Leon Kennedy

The icy night air seared your lungs like shattered glass. The snow, deep and powdery, clung treacherously to your ankles, slowing every step, while your bare feet had long since gone numb—turning into two blocks of ice. You ran blindly, coniferous branches lashing across your face and leaving crimson welts, but the terror of what you’d left behind was far more agonizing than any physical pain.

From behind, the crunch of snow rang out. Heavy, steady, relentless. "Where are you going, Princess?" Leon’s voice sliced through the silence of the woods. Gone was the familiar softness he used to wrap you in within the walls of his secluded country estate. Gone was the tender whispering, the way he’d assure you that you were only safe in his arms. "You know there are wolves in these woods. Why do you make me worry like this?"

You remembered his hands—the very same ones that, only this morning, had gently brushed your hair and brought you breakfast in bed, calling you his "only treasure" as he fed you from a spoon. Но you also remembered the icy glint in his eyes when you tried to open a locked door.

Disobedience was met with punishment—cold, methodical, and brutal—after which he would weep at your feet, begging for forgiveness and drowning you in gifts. "Stop!" His shout grew louder, closer. Now, it held an unmistakable snarl that made your blood run cold. "Do you really think I’d let you leave after everything I’ve built for us?" You looked back for a split second and saw his silhouette among the black trunks. Leon wasn't just running; he was hunting.

A professional agent, a survivor of the Raccoon City hellscape, he was now using every skill he possessed to track down the one woman his fractured mind considered his property. His jacket was flung open, his breath escaping in thick clouds of steam, and his face was twisted into a grimace of feral obsession—a desperate, raw need for you.

"I swear, if you don't stop right now, I’ll break those pretty little legs of yours so you can never even dream of running again!" he spat, closing the distance with terrifying speed. "Or I’ll catch you right here in the snow, and believe me, I won't be gentle this time. I'll take you right where you fall, and I won't give a damn how much you scream!"

You tripped over a root hidden beneath the snow and plunged forward into the stinging white. Your heart hammered against your ribs like a trapped bird. The footsteps behind you stopped.

"Got you," came a low, almost tender whisper right against your ear.

A strong hand in a leather glove gripped your hair roughly, forcing your head back. Leon towered over you. His eyes burned with a manic triumph, and a strange, frightening smile played on his lips. He was breathing hard, and you could feel the heat radiating off him, a stark contrast to the freezing forest.