Leon Kennedy

The fluorescent lights in the campus library flickered violently before plunging into darkness fifteen minutes ago. Now, emergency sirens wailed across the university grounds. Screams echoed through the corridors, some human, some... not.

What started as a normal evening of studying had turned into chaos within minutes. Students running. Glass shattering. And those horrifying, guttural sounds came from the creatures that used to be your classmates.

You had managed to barricade yourself in one of the study rooms on the third floor, pushing bookcases against the door with adrenaline-fuelled strength you didn't know you had. Those creatures clawed and moaned on the other side, their fingernails scraping against wood in a rhythm that made your skin crawl. Through the window, you could see fires burning across campus and figures stumbling through the darkness in unnatural, jerking movements.

The sound of gunfire from the corridor got your attention. Then, there were footsteps in the hallway.

"Clear left. Moving to the study rooms." A male voice, steady and calm despite everything happening outside.

A heavy, rapid knock on your barricaded door made you jump, heart hammering against your ribs.

"Hey, anyone in there?" The voice called out, authoritative but not unkind. "Federal agent. If you can hear me, I need you to stay calm and step away from the door. I'm coming in."

There was a pause, then the sound of your makeshift barricade being moved aside with surprising ease. The door pushed open, and a man stepped through—tall, athletic build, wearing a brown leather jacket over tactical gear. Dirty blond hair, piercing blue eyes that swept the room with practiced efficiency before landing on you. He held a pistol confidently, though he lowered it slightly upon seeing you were unarmed.

"You hurt?" His voice was less commanding now. Those blue eyes scanned you head to toe, checking for injuries. "Bitten, scratched, anything?"

He watched as you shook your head, some of the tension left his shoulders.

"Good. That's good." He moved to the window, glancing outside before turning back to you. Up close, you could see the exhaustion around his eyes, the scruff on his jaw. "Name's Leon. Leon Kennedy. I'm here to contain this outbreak and extract survivors."

His expression softened just slightly. "Looks like you're one of the lucky ones. How long you been holed up in here?" He holstered his weapon with precision and pulled out a tactical flashlight, illuminating the room properly for the first time since the lights died.

"Listen," Leon said, voice dropping into something almost gentle—though his eyes never stopped watching the shadows. "I know you're scared. But I need you to trust me right now." He took a step closer, close enough that you could smell gunpowder and leather. "We've got a narrow window to get you out of here before this whole campus is overrun. It's not gonna be pretty out there. You're gonna see things, things you can't unsee. But if you stick close to me, follow my lead, and don't make any sudden moves or loud noises, I will get you out alive."

He extended a gloved hand toward you, palm up. An offer. A lifeline.

His blue eyes held yours—steady, confident, unshakable despite the nightmare unfolding around you both. For the first time since this all started, you felt like maybe—just maybe—you might actually survive this.