Chapter Text
The task was simple. Patrol the outer city limits and help anyone who may need it. Hell, he was actually doing that until his simple task turned into something beyond a nightmare. It really was a classic example of bad things happening to good people. Entering the convenient store had been his first mistake. Things simply escalated from there; one zombie became ten, and ten quickly became countless walking corpses whose only objective was to eat what-- or who-- was closest.
Losing his mode of transportation due to a near-death-crash was one thing but realizing just how bad things had gotten in his small city was another. A much, much worse thing. After temporarily splitting ways with Claire, he realized just how bad things had gotten in just a matter of hours for the city.
“I CAN’T STAY HERE! IT’S NOT SAFE! I’LL MEET YOU AT THE STATION!” Claire had managed to shout in his general direction as they found themselves surrounded.
“I’LL BE THERE!” He had shouted back.
Leon took off after that, heading towards the station with one hand on his weapon belt and the other already copping a simple handgun. Thankfully, he hadn’t needed to fire many bullets and managed to close the gates to the building before giving himself a moment to breathe. His head was already beginning to pound, protesting in anger due to the constant noise and overwhelming smell of rotting corpses from each and every corner.
Claire, he had thought to himself. I need to meet Claire at the back of the station.
He didn’t give himself a second longer to breathe; he needed to continue with his objective. His objective which had changed. It was no longer to patrol the outer city limits and help anyone who may need it, but to simply find Claire.
A sudden slam on the metal gate sent vibrations through him, pulling him out of his momentary resting position and forcing him back into the real world.
“Jesus.” He mumbled to himself, moving away from the entrance and finally toward the police station.
The doors were unlocked, but after stepping inside, Leon quickly realized that someone had tried to block the double-doored entrance, as if the threat of countless walking corpses outside was becoming too much.
The station was quiet-- quiet enough that each step taken in his shoes created a small echo in response. He sighed before sliding the handgun in his weapon belt, figuring that the workplace was safe enough to temporarily put his items of defense aside. He shuffled himself toward the front counter, which was about as much of a disaster as everything else in the city at this point. Papers were thrown across the surface in an untidy manner, some random spare bullets scattered around each thin slice of printed confidential information. He blinked slowly, trying to regain his thoughts.
Meet Claire at the back of the station.
The plan was to unlock the gate at the rear end of the building to allow Claire entrance, but they had to act quick. If there’s one thing that the apocalypse had taught them thus far, it was that time is crucial.
Leon’s eyes scanned the foreseeable ends of the station, deciding on the right flight of stairs to reach the East Office, hopefully giving himself the easiest route to meet Claire. He walked in that general direction, continuously glancing in every corner to assure the absence of others. Uniform or not, he didn’t hesitate. He pulled the trigger each time without any thought. He was sure that he’d run out of bullets soon; there was no way he had enough to get through the night without needing to scavenge for more. He could remember thinking early on in his mission, damn, I never thought I’d have to use my gun so much on my first day. Yet, here he was.
He turned corners with his gun out and ready to fire, not wanting to risk anything. His mind was so sharply focused on what was in front of him that he made the poor decision of ignoring what could be on his sides, behind him, and hell, even above him.
The sudden ear piercing screech that echoed directly above his head not only caused him to drop his weapon in shock-- an unbelievable, stupid rookie move-- but to let out a short yelp in surprise as well. Well, fuck. He stumbled backwards, his eyes roaming every square inch of the ground in hopes of finding that blood-covered object that proved as his only chance of survival. Of course, when his vision landed on it, it was on the other side of the room. Just his luck.
It’s now or never, he thought to himself before quite literally jumping headfirst towards the gun, hoping to gain some sort of momentum over the creature hanging from the ceiling. He wasn’t fast enough, though. Whatever was on the ceiling was quicker than him. Its tongue darted out at an inhuman speed, wrapping itself around his leg and using some odd form of strength to lift his body off the ground, his head dangling upside down and his other leg kicking in protest against the monster.
His eyes landed on his gun once again, feeling nothing but shame as he was so close to reaching it, yet he failed.
The creature removed a hand from its grip on the ceiling (however the hell it was doing that) and used it to grab at Leon’s other leg, now holding the man in a tight and unrelenting grasp. It was a monster, for fucks sake. Of course it didn’t understand that it was causing him so much pain.
But what if it did? Just as Leon was about to shake that thought aside, a sharp, slicing pain cut through his right leg, leaving him with no choice but to let out a scream. The creature seemed satisfied with this. The loud noise that erupted from his throat caused the attraction of a couple zombies. Leon’s heart sank rapidly. If the creature were to drop him now, he would be absolutely fucked. He could feel blood dripping up his leg and soaking through the fabric of his pants. He felt the warm liquid hit his chin as he was hung upside down. Gravity was against him right now. His ears were beginning to ring as all of the blood still enraptured within his body was moving in the wrong direction. It was as though he could literally feel it pooling around his brain. Using whatever strength he could find in him, he forced his abdomen to work against the situation. His top half raised itself until he found himself nearly eye to eye with the creature. Without hesitation, he felt for the knife in his belt and, with a firm grasp, shanked the creature holding him captive with no mercy.
The creature let out a howl and dropped Leon, who landed square on his back, knocking the wind out of him and leaving his lungs trapped with no room to breathe. His eyes clenched shut in panic, understanding what was happening but still unable to calm his racing heart. His mouth gaped like a fish desperate for water, but no air would enter his body. He felt himself dizzying. He tried to focus on his leg. His brutally attacked leg. He attempted to think only of the pain radiating from that area, and it worked. Air slowly made its way into his lungs, filling with satisfaction and pure success. His ears stopped ringing then, making his conscience clearer and his understanding of the environment around him much stronger.
A zombie fell on top of his wounded leg, and Leon bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, not wanting to make any noise to attract even more of the undead. He used any remaining strength to kick at its head just about as hard as he could manage, pushing the thing off his body. He could hear another approaching behind him. He rolled himself over, standing on both feet but only applying pressure to one. He dodged the zombie’s reach and limped toward his gun at a pathetic pace, but it was about all he could give at that moment.
Scooping the inanimate object off the ground, he turned to face the barrel of the gun toward the creatures in front of him. He fired without second thought. The zombies hit the ground almost instantaneously, and Leon felt some form of peace wash over him. Until the creature jumped from the ceiling, hitting the floor with a thud that nearly shook the remnants of the hallway.
With a shaky hand, Leon shot at the creature, hitting it dead-on, but seeing no result from doing so. He fired again. And again. And again. The mutated figure made noises of disapproval, but never faltered. It stalked toward him in a menacing manner. He needed to get outside. That’s where Claire was. Claire was waiting for him. He didn’t want her to wait any longer.
Leon forced his hand to steady as much as possible before firing directly into the creature's eye, this time causing an actual response from it. The beast stumbled backwards, shaking its head in obvious pain. Leon took this opportunity to wobble past it, heaving out useless breaths in the process. God, he was exhausted.
Any thoughts that were beginning to form dissipated quickly at the sound of heavy claws scraping against flooring, headed in his direction. Dammit, that thing recovers fast. The exit was directly in front of him-- literally about 2 feet-- and he could practically smell the fresh air and the rain that offered itself just outside the door.
Another talon from the monster sliced at his upper thigh, thankfully on the same leg, but leaving Leon with no choice but to tumble forward in absolute agony. He groaned, feeling that familiar sensation of blood pooling on the ground, clearly originating from the wounded area. He knew he would bleed out soon if he didn’t find bandages. Or clean clothing that could work as bandages. Anything. Something. He had to stop the bleeding.
The creature wasted no time in crawling on top of him, mounting his body and forcing Leon onto his back. He groaned at the feeling, as he still hadn’t recovered from his previous fall from the ceiling. Strong, inhuman claws held his arms down on either side of his head, and legs sat on top of his own, pushing with the intent to hurt. And God, it hurt.
The creature's knee-- or whatever part of its body it was-- dug into Leon’s right leg, forcing the injured side into the floor and creating a squelching sound that he was sure he’d never be able to rid his mind of. He let out a groan through gritted teeth, starting to feel cold yet sweaty. Fuck, I’m gonna pass out. The creature released one of its hands from its grip on Leon’s arms, using it to extend its talons, almost to simply frighten Leon. And it did.
Slowly, tortuously, its claws made contact with the front of Leon’s top half, tearing at the clothing to reveal the skin that lay under it.
“Fuck, NO, GET OFF!” Leon managed to shout, obviously not phasing the monster in the slightest. As if to show its annoyance to his sudden outburst, the creature pressed one of its knife-like talons onto his skin, just enough to break through the first couple of layers. Leon tilted his head back at this, screaming out more profanities. He couldn’t care less at this point if the loud noises attracted more of the dead. He was hurting.
The creature snarled, pressing into that same wound even further, earning a wide-eyed stare from the man underneath it, whose mouth was simply open in a silent scream that didn’t hold the strength to emit any sound. Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, it retracted its claw from his skin, leaving him with another blood-pouring opening as if to let the zombies know, ‘Hey! I’m here, fresh bait and ready to be eaten!’.
The ringing in his ears became more persistent, beginning to block out any and all sound. His eyelids felt heavy; black was forming around the edges of his vision. Maybe I won’t pass out. Maybe I’m actually dying. Leon wanted to push these thoughts aside, but he hardly found the chance to do so, as darkness quickly swept over his body, and everything around him went silent.