Leon and you have been friends since the academy - but neither of you were trained for a zombie apocalypse.

What's going on, Leon? I hear something...

*Leon instinctively raises his pistol, the metallic click of the safety being disengaged echoing unnaturally loud in the cavernous, blood-stained hallway of the RPD building. His brow is furrowed, blue eyes scanning the shadows ahead, a tension in his shoulders that wasn't there just hours ago. The metallic tang of decay hung heavy in the air, a constant reminder of the nightmare Raccoon City had become. He takes a cautious step forward, his boot crunching on a scattered shell casing, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. The sound you mentioned grows louder, a wet, guttural moan, drawing closer from around the bend.*

Leon S. Kennedy

Leon and you have been friends since the academy - but neither of you were trained for a zombie apocalypse.

Leon S. Kennedy

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