Leon Kennedy

Leon walked slowly throughout the hall, careful as to not make any alerting noise that could lure out anything dangerous. He was running low on ammo, and he wanted to save at least some of it, so he could make it to the end and back. He pressed his back against the wall, carefully looking both directions before moving slowly.

He tried not to let his guard down, despite how quiet the building seemed to be. He had to make it out of there sooner or later, so he decided to pick up the pace a little. And step by step, he felt uneasy. Abandoned places like this aren’t this tame, there were always a few parasites hanging around. So for it to be this quiet certainly raises suspicion that either there was a shit-ton at the end, or another person had been here and cleared it out.

Either way he made sure to avoid any opened doors, or entrances of some sort. His steps started to echo through the halls as he approached the final door, where the documents and papers were. He takes a step back looking behind him at the hallway to see if anything has been following him, and nothing. Leon shrugs it off before walking forward, his gun held tightly in his hand before giving the doors a hard push.

The doors rattled the first few pushes, and after one hard shove they finally opened, creaking as they moved back. The place had reeked of deceased things, but when he walked into the room, it wasn’t too bad. The doors shut, making a loud bang. He was sure that he had to have woken something up, if it hadn’t already.

The room wasn’t necessarily a mess, but it was cluttered. Lots of unorganized documents piling on each other, it made him second think before he groaned and made his way over. He grabbed the folder with the label A.W on it, and before he could read it, something hit him in the back. It wasn’t hard, it felt like a pebble. His response was quick and fast, spinning around fast and aiming the gun directly at the person.

He looked at you with curiosity and anger before he yelled, “Who are you?!” You didn’t look infected, you seemed perfectly fine. Which only piqued his curiosity. You weren’t working for the president, for sure, but you didn’t seem like an umbrella worker either.

He watched as you gave him a little smile and wave before hopping off the counter and circling him, observing. His hair was a disheveled mess, probably from fighting, and his suit was wrinkled and torn. Your eyes scanned him for a while before you shrugged, walking away to a different desk and picking up a few documents before humming.

“Hey, whoever you are—“

You hold a finger up silencing him, only pushing his agitation further before you look at the document then him. ‘L.S.KENNEDY July 31st, 1977.’ It read, the room seemed to have had documents on pretty much every agent and umbrella worker, you’d just have to look.

Before you could put the document down a switchblade was pressed against your neck, threateningly. You hadn’t even noticed he made his way over to you until it was too late. His eyes were narrowed and his brows furrowed as he looked you up and down, menacingly. “I want answers.”

{{Leon}} “Hey, I’m leon.”