Chapter 18 - Death Wish

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***MIGHT REUPLOAD CHAPTER IN CASE OF UNLOADING SCENES GLITCH***

| - Extremely Long Chapter - |(like really. I'm not joking)

⚠️ This whole chapter contains descriptions that might bring you discomfort. Be advised! ⚠️

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"I think the nurse's interest is beyond professional."

"Be more specific."

 "Something's quite off. I notice the way she's looking at him."

"And what about Leon?"

"I can't tell. But after Rosewood, he became protective of her. They seem to have got..quite close."

"I see. Then if we are smart enough, we can use this well...unspoken bond, to our advantage."

"I'm all ears. What do you want us to do?"

----

1:34 A.M

You slowly stir around on your couch before you wake up from the faint sound of your phone buzzing on the coffee table. The TV murmurs in the background, casting a dim glow across your living room, while the sky outside overwhelms in near-black darkness. Lifting your body just so slightly on the couch, your eyes barely open as you wearily reach to grab your phone. Your eyes squint at the bright light coming from the screen, and your brows lower in confusion once you see a specific contact calling you at this time.

Unknown number.

Rubbing your eyes, you languidly bring the phone to your ear, answering tiredly, "Hello?"

"(y/n)- It's Claire. You need to come to the base." Claire's voice from the other line gives a sense of urgency.

"Why, what's wrong?"

"...Leon and Luis are gone." 

You freeze for a moment before quickly sitting up, swinging your legs over the edge of the couch. A chill runs down your spine, waking up immediately as the words sink in. "What—do you mean gone?"

"I'll tell you everything in person. Piers and Chris have left to find them. They're not in Vinderline. You need to be here in case you will be required.."

"Of course- I'll be there as soon as possible." You say, before ending the call. Your heart begins to race, a million scenarios swirl in your mind. All you can hope for is that neither Leon nor Luis were in serious danger.

--

Claire ends the call, and her head quickly turns to Carlos' who has been engrossed in electronic devices, trying to locate the two missing men for the past hour.

"Any updates on their location?" Claire asks, hurrying towards him, phone still in her hand.

Carlos looks up from his equipment, taking his phone back from Claire as he speaks, "When Luis called, they were still in Vinderline. According to the signal from his phone, it appears they've moved to Cuba," he pauses, looking back to his screen. "Did you call Hercules?"

"Yeah. He's on his way too," she says, her attention now fixed on the tracker's specific location. She wastes no time and move towards the communication machine, reaching for Chris' line.

"Chris, we got their location," she reports.

"What is it?"

"Cuba," Claire says, glancing back at the tracker.

"Request for a helo to be dispatched to my location. You, Carlos, and Hercules, get ready to join once we confirm our arrival in Cuba. Do not proceed without my permission."

"Got it," Claire acknowledges, quickly rushing towards the other line. A few moments later, Hercules makes his own arrival inside the base, his face etched with a mix of confusion and concern.

"I'm here. What's going on?"

--

Pushing aside your blankets, you rise from the couch, still holding your phone in your hands, ready in case Claire calls back. Quietly, you make your way towards your bedroom to retrieve a change of clothes from the closet. As you open the door, a heartwarming sight meets your eyes—Irene and Ava peacefully sleeping in each other's arms.

A faint smile crosses your face as you observe their tranquility, differing from the chaos that likely awaits you. However, both of them need this peace. Especially Ava. 

Shaking off the calmness of the moment, you refocus on the harsh reality of the situation. Silently, you tip-toe to your closet, selecting a random set of clothes, and hastily leave your bedroom to change. As you check the time, you realize that only 4 hours had passed since the rest of the team was supposed to call it a day. What the hell could have possibly happened during that time?

----

Leon slowly comes back to consciousness with a terrible smell piercing his nostrils. Soon, he finds himself unable to move, as if covered in concrete.

"¡Oye joder! This is not what I meant when I say I love being tied up." Luis' weary voice echoes from behind him.

With a low groan, Leon shakes his head, struggling to bring his surroundings into focus. He looks down to find himself bound tightly with thick ropes, his back pressed against the chair, and his hands securely fastened behind it. As his vision clears, he takes in the dreadful scene around him—headless Ganados with the parasite's writhing tentacles emerging from their open throats, along with some dead soldiers.

A look of caution and discomfort etch on Leon's features as he tries to comprehend his surroundings. Soon, his gaze lingers on a familiar logo on one of the lifeless operatives—an emblem that sets off alarms within him. Red and White-

"You're fucking kidding me..." he growls, the ropes binding him becoming increasingly maddening as he fights to free himself.

"You're finally awake. Did you sleep well, señor?" Luis taunts, tied up right behind Leon. Leon, undeterred, strains against the strict bonds, each yank reflecting the growing need within him to break free. "Thanks to your heroism, we are stuck in this shithole."

Leon pays little attention to Luis's bitter grumbling. His single-minded determination pushes him forward once again, unwittingly dragging Luis with him this time. The realization then hits him—they are both tied down by the same rope.

"Aye, stop it!" Luis hisses, his breath catching as Leon's relentless movements take a toll. "We're already being too loud. They're gonna hear us and we're both dead."

"Who's gonna hear us?" Leon questions.

"You really don't remember what happened?"

At Luis' question, Leon looks away, glancing around him once more. Soon enough, fragmented memories of what led them to this trouble slowly begin to form in his mind.

- 4 Hours Ago -

9:00 P.M

"You really can't be serious, Sancho," Luis exclaims with a disbelieving laugh as he rises from the stool. He extinguishes his cigarette in the nearby ashtray and returns his lighter to his back jeans' pocket. Pulling out his wallet, he tosses his own bill on the counter and quickly traces right behind Leon, towards the exit of the bar. "Do you want me to remind you what happened back in the village? The fact that you got infected-"

"I don't give a shit," Leon says, abruptly halting his steps. His gaze sharply turns toward Luis. "You said it yourself that 'in Vinderline, we can find answers that will lead us to the cult. The sooner we go, the better'," Leon asserts before resuming his walk. "So I'm doing 'sooner' tonight."

Luis stands in silence, his eyebrows dropping down, and worry engrave onto his facial features. Still, he doesn't back away. "What's the difference if we wait till tomorrow, just like Redfield requested?" he asks, trailing behind Leon once again.

"We waited four months and now we're already counting victims," Leon retorts, stepping closer to the exit. "That's enough reason for me."

"Leon," Luis intervenes once more, his hand pressing firmly against Leon's shoulder, bringing him to a halt. "Let's say you go to do your research. What if he's there? If you go there by yourself, you will not get out alive."

Leon leans in, his voice dropping to a hushed tone. "What I saw and lived back in Raccoon City has already killed the man I once was. There's nothing left for me to lose, Luis. I will keep fighting. Even if it means dying trying," he pauses, hesitantly. "I will not let any more innocent lives to be taken. Not on my watch."

Luis takes a moment to absorb Leon's words, before stepping back to adjust his jacket, and exhaling softly. "Well then. Tango takes two to dance," he says, with a faint smile. "After all, I'm not getting called Don Quixote for no reason."

"By who?"

"By me," Luis smirks. "Now lead the way, señor! We have a suitcase to get."

Leon offers a faint smile before shaking his head, leading them out of the Wiskays' bar, Luis following closely behind. As they approach the crowded parking lot, Luis interjects,

"We'll take my car. I'll be your personal Uber," he jests, jiggling his car keys..

10:23 P.M

 An hour passed in a heavy silence, with Leon immersed his thoughts, yearning to bring an end to the nightmare with Saddler that only continues to spread. Meanwhile, Luis, ever the optimist, humms along to a Spanish melody, filling the car with a somewhat cheerfulness. His eyes, however soon catch Leon's meditative gaze, and he decides to break the silence.

"You know," he begins, his eyes focused on the road ahead before flickering back to Leon. "I remember the first time we reunited after the island. I asked you if there was a woman in your life, and you said there was no one."

Leon remains motionless, his ears though perk up at the unexpected turn in the conversation. Luis can't resist the opportunity to tease, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. "I suppose your dating life is not the best, eh? Unless you're single by choice...or wait for a specific senorita?"

A few seconds of silence pass before Leon responds, while his gaze lingers on the passing view. "Work's been keeping me busy enough."

"Oh, and I thought it was because you're a blabber," Luis chuckles mockingly.

The conversation fades, and the car sinks back into silence. The barely audible music provides a catchy soundtrack to the cold atmosphere. As the landscape evolves, the familiar sights of the forest and the approaching town of Vinderline hint at their journey's end.

"We're here, I think," Luis says, looking around. Leon nods.

"Pull over right over there," he instructs. Luis smoothly turned the steering wheel, bringing the car to a stop and pulls the brake. "Do you see anything so far?" Leon asks, his eyes scanning the surroundings like a hawk.

"Apart for my gorgeous reflection, nothing else," Luis quips, adjusting his hair in the rearview mirror.

Leon unbuckles his seatbelt and steps out of the car, eyes tracing the forest where countless police officers had tragically met their end just a week ago by Ganados. Luis follows suit, stepping out from the driver's seat.

Both men retrieve their flashlights, casting light into the darkness that surrounds them. Luis then speaks up,

"I think it would be best if we give a call to the base at least," Luis suggests as he follows Leon's trail. "Let them know where we are, and just in case we discover something,"

"Sounds good," Leon agrees. With that, they begin to move forward into the unknown. 

Each step is calculated, remaining mindful of any possible traps, threats, or, worst of all, Ganados. Luis is faintly heard from the small distance, as he talks to Piers, updating him about their location. 

Only a few minutes later, and the darkness begins to succumb to a faint light originating from a distance, probably 20 meters away. Leon's expression tightens with caution as he approaches.

The moment he arrives to the spot, and pushes a few bushes away from him, he quietly turns off his flashlight with a click, and kneels down, uncovering two trucks parked in the clearing, their lights almost begging for attention. The unexpected presence of these vehicles only signals an unwelcome company.

"Luis, I think we're not alone," Leon whispers, receiving no immediate response. Frowning, he was about to call out again when an unfamiliar voice sounded from behind,

"Good to see you again, Kennedy."

Before Leon can react, a heavy blow strikes the back of his head, sending him collapsing to the ground, unconscious.

- Present -

"Not so fast, gentlemen," a commanding voice reverberates, grasping Leon and Carlos's attention. In the blink of an eye, they find themselves encircled by 7 armed men in black clothing, their weapons pointed at them. Their leader takes a step forward.

"Who are you?" Leon inquires sternly, his eyebrows furrowing in cautiousness.

"Let's say, someone who wants a buy a suitcase, perhaps." the man hints, leaving Leon and Carlos momentarily speechless.

"Look around you, mister Kennedy, we all are here for the same thing. And we both know what that is," his gaze briefly turns from Leon to Carlos before returning to Leon. "With your cooperation, we will be able to retrieve the suitcase."

"And what are you going to do with the samples?" Carlos asks.

"That is not something for you to know about. Your job will be to follow the orders," the man coldly responds as he starts pacing back and forth in slow motion.

-

"I think we have a vendetta with those men that brought us here." Leon murmurs ironically. "We need to get out of here fast."

"Well, thanks for the point out, Captain Obvious," Luis responds with a touch of sarcasm, as both men begin to wrestle against the unforgiving restraints that bound them together. The knots held firm, mercilessly strangling their movements. Their hands and backs firmly secured to the wooden and filthy chairs.

"Should we fall? The chairs might break," Luis suggests, prompting a grunt of disagreement from Leon.

"Too risky. We won't be able to move if they won't break," Leon pauses, his mind racing desperately for a solution.

"How about we both push forward at the same time? Ropes seem old,"

"That won't help either," Leon gruffly comments.

"Still, we're desperate enough so it's worth giving it a try," Leon hesitates to the quite dumb proposal but agrees, having them prepare for the attempt.

"Okay,"

"Alright. One....Two....Three!" The synchronized effort sees them pushing forward with all the strength they can summon, but the ropes cut into their chests. Groans of pain escape their lips, unable to break them. The attempt brought only temporary anger before they collapsed back against the chairs, defeated.

"Tu puta madre.." Luis curses through gritted teeth, frustrated.

Suddenly, a small memory flashes in Leon's mind, a spark of an idea born from desperation. With minimal freedom in his fingers, he stealthily reaches and grazes against the back pockets of Luis's jeans as if he's searching for something. Luis, feeling the intrusion, jolts.

"Aye, what the hell are you doing?" he asks in disbelief.

"Stay still," Leon commands.

"You're being really weird right now."

"Just trust me," Leon repeats, his voice rising slightly. "Push your body towards me." Luis sighs, complying with Leon's odd request. As Leon's fingers work, he manages to grasp the lighter from Luis' back pocket.

After a few attempts, Leon successfully ignites the lighter behind him. The burning heat stings his fingertips, but he grits his teeth in patience, starting to feel the ropes that restrain him melt under the flame's touch. Within seconds, the ropes fall to the floor, freeing Leon's hands. Taking swift action, he retrieves his knife from his holster, cutting both their torsos loose.

"Nice work," Luis compliments with a smirk. Leon, focused and determined, doesn't pay attention to the praise. He proceeds to cut the ropes on his ankles, then methodically moves to free Luis' wrists and feet.

Finally liberated, Luis rises, adjusting his disheveled clothing. Leon, with a mix of relief and urgency, discovers his handgun still snug in its holster. A quick glance at the lifeless bodies strewn across the room prompts him to snatch a bulletproof vest from one of the fallen soldiers. Draping it over himself, he adjusts his shoulder holster with practiced efficiency. Luis sighs, knowing he will have to do the same.

"That will be pleasant," he says sarcastically as he removes an unused vest from a nearby corpse, slipping it beneath his jacket. In the meantime, Leon treads purposefully towards the wooden door, delivering a powerful kick to send it swinging open. Luis quickly trails behind, both eager to escape.

Stepping out, they enter an almost ruined, yet once-luxurious area. The walls carry torn-apart paintings, dried blood splatters now transformed into a dark shade of brown. In each corner, once-elegant couches now stood as remains of luxury, their rich red fabric. Unsteady wooden floors that lead at dead ends, and broken windows, now sealed with makeshift wooden boards.

Luis pulls out his phone, to find it out of battery. "Great, it's dead," he sighs, frustration grasping on his features. "So, any plans for what to do now?"

"We split up," Leon proposes, his gaze sweeping the unsettling scene below. They stand on the first floor of this once-palatial structure. "Meet at the same spot once we both are done. Whoever arrives first, waits for the other."

"Reckless boy, aren't you? Alright. I'm up for the challenge."

----

1:53 A.M

Heavy tactical boots step harshly against the muddy ground. Piers and Chris, rifles grip firmly in their hands, and with a sweeping motion, Chris gestures for the chopper to depart without them. The roaring engine drowns out the ambient sounds as the helicopter rises into the darkened sky, soon disappearing from view, leaving the duo alone in the now stillness.

Amidst the fading echoes of the departing aircraft, Chris and Piers shift their attention to the concealed side of the alleged "small neighborhood." With stealthy strides, they begin their approach, their senses heightened and rifles at the ready. Their vigilant eyes check the radar linked to Luis's phone service. 

The initial illusion of a small neighborhood shatters as they get nearer, revealing instead the remnants of what was once a mansion. A few meters away on the right, an abandoned stable.

"They must be in that place." 

"That's about to crumble," Chris murmurs, observing the building. "Let's go."

They begin to approach, each step taking them closer to the possible building Leon and Luis are being held hostages. Yet, the distance still remains large.

Their steps come to a sudden halt when their eyes lock onto an unexpected sight—a small group of mysterious figures covered in black cassocks. Chris and Piers share a wary glance as their suspicions are strengthening. The group moves with an unsettling harmony towards a concealed entrance, disappearing from sight. However, two of them stay outside.

"I don't like where this is going," Chris adds, his voice barely audible as he monitors the bizarre gathering. The tension rises as the figures outside start a ritualistic ''show''. One unfurls a tall and thick makeshift wooden stick, pinning it firmly into the ground, and soon the other sets it on fire, the flames shaping a familiar, yet chilling emblem.

Los Iluminados symbol.

----

Leon. All your mind can think about right now is Leon. Sure, this is the nature of his work. As an agent, danger is inherent, but god damn it, you can't calm down to the thought of something bad happening to him. Luis too.

Your hand slams against the scanner, the door sliding open to reveal a scene portraying silent panic. Carlos hastily securing weapons and essentials, while Claire wears her vest and communicating through her earpiece. Her firearm is on her holster.

Seeing Claire with a gun means one thing. Heavy shit's about to go down.

"We're ready to go when you give the order. Any sign of the guys?" you hear her voice amidst the hurried preparations as you rush towards Carlos.

"Carlos, what the hell is going on?"

"We are leaving for Cuba. Leon and Luis were taken there," he responds, cocking his rifle.

"Cuba?" you ask confused. "How did they even end up there?"

"No idea. They went to Vinderline for an investigation, and next thing we know, they're in Cuba, likely against their will."

Your eyebrows furrow as you lock eyes with Carlos. "By who? We are undercover."

"Rosewood," he states bluntly, reminding you. "And they're not just after us—they want the suitcase too."

"Shit..." you mutter, gripping your keys. The only ones who knew about Chris' team and were to get the samples—and Leon.

This a literal nightmare. Leon and Luis are in danger and all you can do is just sit here in agony and wait until they return- at this point if they return. You take a deep breath, attempting to steady your nerves, and turn your gaze toward the operating room. There, Hercules strides out, methodically adding contents to his first-aid backpack, his pistol secured in his thigh holster.

"You got everything?" Carlos asks. 

"Yeah," Hercules replies, stern yet composed, hoisting the army backpack onto his shoulders. "Any word from Chris and Piers?"

"Claire's talking to them now," Carlos says, glancing to your direction. "You good to stay here alone?"

"Yeah, don't worry about me," you assure Carlos, waving off his concern.

Shortly after, Claire ends the call, hurrying back to the group.

"Helo's here," she announces, eyes shifting between Hercules and Carlos. "Though things just got twisted."

Carlos turns to her. "What's going on?"

"Where Leon are Luis were found, is where the cult is located," she reveals, a heavy pause following. So...they were taken by the cult itself? Fucking great. Can this night get any worse? "We need to leave now, before things get ugly."

Carlos swiftly dons his vest, Hercules following suit. Claire then turns her attention to you. "(y/n), you will stay in the main room so we can communicate with you, to keep you updated."

"Got it." You nod, sensing Hercules' irritation from what he just heard.

"Wait, wait, hold on a second," he raises his hand, a gesture demanding attention before the others can leave. Confusion replaces his features as he turns from you to Claire. "You're really going to let her stay here?"

Carlos, raising an eyebrow, and Claire, resting her hand on her tactical belt, exchange glances. "Chris's order. Remember?"

"Chris may have made the orders but it does not mean they are always right," Hercules asserts, prompting curious glares from all present. "The fact that Leon and Luis are taken hostages by the cult changes plans. I will need (y/n)'s help in case something goes wrong and immediate medical care is required."

"I was given strict orders to not leave the base during missions, Hercules," you repeat, causing him to scoff as Claire and Carlos remain silent.

"Do any of you realize where we are about to go?"

"We do, but it seems like you're having trouble grasping it," Carlos retorts. "Taking (y/n) with us where the cult is far from safe, and almost useless. Aren't you supposedly capable enough to look after the team?" Carlos asks, gripping the collar of his vest.

"You are missing the point. What will I do if Leon or Luis gets infected?"

"They won't be—"

"How can you be so sure?" Hercules interjects before Claire can finish her sentence. "For all I know so far is that cultist is out there in Cuba, passing the parasite like they're fucking candy. What makes you really think that Leon or Luis—or even both of them—are not infectors now themselves?"

Pause. Hercules indeed has a point. Saddler is undoubtedly one unpredictable motherfucker. He injected a pregnant woman, attempting to pass the Plaga, as he calls it, to her and the baby. Since he showed no mercy to her, he surely wouldn't spare Leon or Luis. 

No one, including you, speaks for a bit. "Tell us your point, Hercules."

"I indeed am skilled enough in certain levels, and I am obliged to offer first aid, but mine won't be enough when I lack knowledge about the parasite and its workings, and there's an expansive geographical distance in the middle," Hercules turns his gaze to you. 'You, on the other hand, know enough about it. You have studied this little enemy," he takes a small pause. "And I assume you know how to remove it as well, correct?"

You hesitate. "I—" you shake your head. "You speak as if you know they are infected."

"Logic speaks, (y/n)." He says, stepping closer. "Saddler needs slaves. He won't pity anyone, especially people who try to stop him," he leans back. "I may have the qualifications, but as I just said, the parasite and its effects are unknown to me. And since you didn't see fit to give me the information I asked for yesterday, I will have to pass this task on to you," he crosses his arms. "Unless you would like to take responsibility in case something happens to Leon and Luis."

Claire steps in, clearly angered with Hercules at this point. "You're asking us to overlook Chris' orders—"

"I'm asking for her assistance. Plus, isn't this the reason she was asked to join the team?" Hercules asks, cutting Claire off.

"She almost died once. We can't risk losing anyone else. Don't you understand that it's too dangerous?" Carlos asks.

"Leaving her behind can also appear reckless," Hercules interjects. "There's no winning in this situation from either side. Either we risk it all, hoping we all return in one piece, or we accept our failure." Carlos and Claire exchange troubled glances with you. "Time is running out. What's it going to be?"

----

2:01 A.M

Leon clutches the cold steel of his gun, his eyes darting through the confusing labyrinth of the mansion. He senses a feeling of being trapped in this eerie place, with not a single living soul in sight. In the midst of the numerous closed doors, a thin line of light peeks out from beneath one of them. Leon moves toward it carefully, his high-alert senses never abandoning him. 

 With a deliberate push, the door creaks open, revealing a room adorned with flickering candles. Carvings etched into half-destroyed walls, and crosses covered by layers of mud.

The disturbing air hangs heavy with an uncomfortable quiet as Leon moves himself further. Dusty furniture, a pair of old, broken chairs, a bed, and an empty closet holding evidence of neglect. His gaze fixates on a desk, where fresh droplets of blood shimmer in the candlelight. Tracing the trail, Leon's curiosity leads him to an unknown path, towards the high window.

Just as Leon considers turning around, a knife appears in front of him from behind, pressing against his throat, halting his every move. The sudden appearance freezes him in place. 

"Time we finally put an end to those destined meetings, don't you think, Leon?" The voice that resonates behind him carries a mysterious familiarity. A faint ironic smile plays on Leon's lips, moving his head ever so lightly to the side. "'Better for close encounters'. Remember?" The feminine voice reminds him, her gaze flickering to his pistol. "Drop it," she commands. 

With measured obedience, Leon gradually lowers his gun, releasing it to the dusty floor with a subtle thud. "I would lie if I said I'm surprised to see you here, Ada." Leon confesses, his final words before he grabs and twists her wrist, pushing her away from him. Simultaneously, he pulls out his own knife from his shoulder holster, launching a calculated strike in Ada's direction. She dodges, initiating a spin to deliver a retaliatory kick. Leon, drawing from muscle memory and seasoned experience, blocks her mid-air, trapping her leg and knifed hand in a firm grip.

With each block and attempt, Ada and Leon end up finding themselves now just inches away from each other. Their panting breaths mingle, eliciting a soft smirk on Ada's lips.

"You never fail to impress. Training did you good, didn't it?" Ada remarks seductively as Leon releases her. A barely audible chuckle escapes her nostrils as she retreats a few steps, while Leon sheathes his knife with a practiced fluidity.

"You work for them, don't you?" Leon inquires, his stoic expression masking the internal turmoil.

Ada remains silent. She only turns her head to the side, adjusting her gloves. "I heard you've made yourself a new friend," she utters with a hesitant pause, "Or perhaps it's something deeper." Leon remains silent at her assumptions, making her turn to face him again. Tilting her head, she remarks, "Oh, Leon. You'll never learn,"

A gentle chuckle escapes Ada's nose, the smirk on her face slowly fading. Her eyes sweep the room they're in, taking in every detail. Leon remains steadfast, his gaze unwavering, analyzing each slight shift in her movements. Ada turns around, locking eyes with him once more. "If I were you, I wouldn't trust the nurse."

"What do you know about trust?"

"Right," she mutters, making her way towards the exit. "Consider this arrangement as a warning, Leon. You want to make it out alive, you walk away," she then adds, "As for the samples, I will take good care of them. If you let me."

Leon scoffs. "Fat chance."

Ada looks out at the window and then returns her gaze back to Leon, setting aside her own knife. "I'll see you later then...hopefully alive." With a subtle hint, she gracefully strides toward the exit.

Leon watches her walk out, his cautious gaze lingering on her figure until the door behind her closes. Suddenly, a sharp pain pierces his head, a guttural grunt escaping as he shuts his eyes against the onslaught.

"Fuck," he whispers, cradling the side of his head. Shaking it lightly, the pain gradually releases its grip. With a deep breath, Leon retrieves his gun from the floor, following to the exit.

---- 

Chris and Piers cautiously approach the grand entrance of the mansion. Moving closer, they peer through the leafage, only to discover the entrance guarded by a small line of soldiers. With a silent signal from Chris, both men lower their rifles, seamlessly blending into the cover of bushes as Chris pulls out his binoculars.

"Do you see anything, Captain?" Piers whispers.

"I see military trucks, and soldiers surrounding the mansion," Chris replies in a hushed tone, his gaze fixed on the unfolding scene.

"Any idea who they might be?"

"No clue, but surely not friendly faces," Chris leans forward, narrowing his focus. "One thing's sure. They're here for Saddler too." Lowering the binoculars, Chris reaches for his earpiece. "Carlos, where are you?"

"Five minutes away till we arrive to your spot."

"Disregard. Instruct the pilot to land you 3 kilometers distant from our current coordinates. The area is heavily populated with soldiers, and we must avoid attracting any unnecessary attention."

"Roger."

"Could they be the men in Rosewood? After all, they know about us and the samples already." Piers speculates.

"That's what I thought as well," Chris begins, but his words abruptly cut off as his gaze freezes on a specific soldier. Piers, sensing the shift, leans in closer.

"What is it?" Chris doesn't respond immediately, his jaw clenching in frustration. Without a word, he hands Piers the binoculars, urging him to see for himself. Piers scans the area until he, too, is confronted with the revelation. 

"Shit, that's-"

"Fucking Umbrella," Chris murmurs through gritted teeth. Anger stirs within him once he locates their enemy. Piers slowly looks back at Chris, knowing that the obstacle is much larger than expected. They're only four against a cult and now probably the entire corporation.

"What do we do now?"

"We have no choice. Stay low and focus on our two objectives. Find Leon and Luis, and get the suitcase, before they do." With a determined gesture, Chris motions for Piers to follow him towards the menacing mansion, their mission now overshadowed by the imminent threat of Umbrella...and the Iluminados.

----

2:20 A.M

You and Hercules are alone in the back of the van, while Claire is in the passenger's seat and Calros holding the wheel. This scene brings you back to the haunting memories from months ago, back in Rosewood. Especially when Chris announced just few moments ago to Claire that there are also soldiers all over the place Leon and Luis are kept in. You feel slight unease with this whole situation, especially being here when you really shouldn't, after Chris' order. But Hercules sitting right on your opposite, offers you comfort, knowing that this time, you're not alone.

The van soon grinds to a halt, jolting you from your introspection. Claire and Carlos exit the vehicle, leaving you and Hercules alone in a contemplative silence. Your arms clutching your backpack as you watch him toying with his mag is the only thing you really can do. Your thoughts, however, circles back to Leon and Luis, your genuine wish being for their safety and well-being.

Hercules continues to toy with his mag for a moment, he slowly lifts his head and faces your direction, at how immersed you look, watching that mag. His eyebrows frown, trying to see through your eyes. What you feel and what's going on through your brain. 

Meeting his gaze, you raise an eyebrow. "What?"

"You seem lost in thought," he remarks, his eyes lingering on yours. "You're worried, aren't you?"

"Of course I am. We all are in danger from the moment we got here after knowing we have a cult and a corporation right after us. Wouldn't it be for someone extremely ordinary as me, normal to be shitting rocks?"

Hercules chuckles softly, slamming the mag back into his gun with a deliberate motion. "Don't blame you, since you put it that way," he pauses. "But something tells me you're more worried for someone specifically. Could it be Chris, Piers," he looks back at you. "Luis...Leon."

"My concern goes out for all of us," you insist.

You try to avoid Hercules' emphasis on Leon's name as you're actually worried for everyone's safety. Even though- the thought of his early assumption about Leon- or Luis possibly being infected or worse..dead sends a shiver to your body. Afterall, you have been bonded with this team, after all this time with them together in a small bunker for 12 hours or more. Hell, you know them better than your own parents at this point.

Hercules shrugs, holstering his gun, "Suit yourself. I'm just observing what's in front of me," before exiting the back of the van.

Sighing, you sling your backpack on your shoulders and follow him outside. The sliding doors close behind you, shutting out the safety of the van's interior. As you approach Claire and Carlos, Hercules asks, "Anything new?"

Carlos glances at the radar, light frustration on his face. "No, nothing. Luis's phone must have died. I lost signal," he points to the last known location on the screen. "He can't be that far from there."

"Then we head for that location," Hercules decides and Carlos nods in agreement.

"Let's go," you, Claire, and Hercules affirm, beginning the journey to find your two missing teammates.

"Let's just hope they're both together," Claire whispers, her words hanging heavy.

You only wish for this mess to be over soon.

----

Leon steps out, the extended halls enveloping him once again as he wanders alone. At the predetermined spot where he and Luis were supposed to meet, he scans the surroundings, hoping for a glimpse of him. However, Luis remains unreachable, leaving Leon alone with his thoughts.

Holstering his gun, Leon wearily sinks onto a ragged couch, seeking a momentary break. With forearms resting on his knees, his gaze skeptically traces the floor before shifting down to his palms. Opening and closing them deliberately, he notices faintly dark veins that appear and vanish, provoking him to clench his fist in response.

His mind travels to Ada immediately. If she is here too, then one thing is certain...

"Leon!" A hushed whisper interrupts his contemplation. He swiftly turns his head, discovering Luis just across from him on the same level. Quickly rising, they jog towards each other. "Started to get scared alone out here," Luis teases.

"Got anything?" Leon asks.

"I do. Some good news and bad news. Which one you want to hear first?" Luis says. Leon, irritated, furrows his brows.

"Do I really have to choose?" he grumbles. Luis smirks, and Leon sighs. "Bad news first."

"Well bad news, along with Umbrella, Los Illumindos made the honors to join this delightful party, eh."

Leon nods bitterly, the revelation not surprising but certainly disheartening. "That explains it," he murmurs to himself.

"Good news, is that the suitcase is here, probably hidden in this place. That means, we will have our nice tour before we leave."

"That doesn't help, you know."

Luis pauses, his smirk fading as he observes Leon's appearance. He remains silent as concern replaces his earlier playfulness. "It's up to you what you want to do, Leon. It's only the two of us, with not a single way to communicate with the others," he crosses his arms, setting aside the banter. "What's it gonna be? We try to escape? Or stay back and take the suitcase?"

Leon stands at a crossroads, troubled of what to decide. If he leaves, his life will might be saved now, but many others will be taken away. If he stays, his own life may extinguish before the dawn, but many others will be safe. Selfless, or selfish?

Clenching his jaw, Leon lifts his tired gaze to meet Luis' eyes, quietly making his decision.

"We're going after the suitcase."

----

The abandoned nave of the church echoes with the vibrant chants of Ganados, their adoration directed towards their lord. Three cultists encircle him, staging the preparations for the impending ceremony. With hands clasped together, he stands proudly at the altar, his voice weaving through their muddled minds, guiding their every action.

Abruptly, the massive doors of the church swing open, its creaking resounding within the holy space. One of his cultists approaches, 

"Extraños han invadido nuestro temple, (Outsiders have invaded our temple,)" the cultist informs him, causing him to turn around. "Me temo que podrían estar aquí por nuestro precioso tesoro. (I'm afraid they might be here for our precious bundle.)" 

Remaining unphased to the cultist's declare, he doesn't say anything, but slowly puts on his mask and hood, turning around and look at the Ganados, awaiting for

"Go after them, don't let them escape." He commands in a hushed tone. The Ganados pivot slowly, making their way outside the church, ready to carry out their lord's order.

----

2:38 A.M

You, Hercules, Carlos, and Claire walk cautiously through the huge mansion. It holds an unsettling aura, highlighted by the faded colors on the walls, creaky wooden and cracked marble floors, and the spooky reverb accompanying every step you take. 

Reaching the second floor, you find hallways with endless doors, each one of them making you curious to see what's behind those doors. Most importantly, if Leon and Luis are in there. Lost in your thoughts, you inadvertently create a small hole in the weakened wooden floor with your next step.

A gasp escapes your lips, prompting Claire, Hercules, and Carlos to whirl around. Claire quickly walks back to your side. "You okay?" she asks with genuine concern in her eyes.

With a tight nod, you assure her, "Yeah, I'm alright."

"Watch your step. The floor's unsteady." Hercules informs. No shit, Sherlock.

Claire stays beside you as the group continues, and to your surprise, you encounter nothing unusual so far. And that's when doubts start creeping in— are you even in the right place? Will you find the others in time?

Sighing, you continue to move along with Claire. She gives one glance at your direction, before she reaches out something from her right side.

"Here," she retrieves her knife from her hip holster and offers it to you. As you accept it, she unstraps her thigh holster, producing an additional knife which she secures to you. "Keep this with you." 

You look at her surprised, "Just in case you will have to defend yourself. It's better than nothing, trust me." she explains with a faint smile accompanying her words.

"Thanks," you reply quietly, expressing gratitude with a returned smile.

"Should we reach for the others?" you hear Hercules inquiring as he and Carlos move forward.

"Not yet. Chris said he'll come in contact with us, once he has any updates."

"I think it's a good idea to regroup with Piers and Chris first," Claire suggests, stepping forward to join Hercules and Carlos. You trail behind, once again consumed by internal concerns. "Then we can go after Leon and Luis. Since we have two enemies ahead of us, it's best if we stay together," she adds, laying out the plan for the next steps.

--

"So that means the suitcase can be in here too, right?" Hercules suddenly asks, raising a brow.

"It better be at this point. Time for this hide and seek to finally end—" Suddenly, a loud crash interrupts them, followed by a barely audible shout. The guys turn around where Claire slipped through a now collapsed section of the floor, nearly falling through a hole that leads to a dark abyss. Carlos rushes to her aid, grabbing her just in time.

"Come on, I gotcha," he says through gritted teeth, exerting all his strength to pull her back up. As Claire is safely retrieved, they dust off the debris and fix their clothing. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah..." Claire pants, hands on her hips. "That was unexpected," she chuckles lightly. Hercules raises an eyebrow, taking a slow step forward, noticing something.

"Where is (y/n)?"

Cold blood runs through their veins at the query. Claire and Carlos quickly turn behind them to notice her sudden absence. Panic sets in as they shine their flashlights down into the dark abyss below, leading to the basement, revealing only destroyed boxes, and she's nowhere in sight.

"What the fuck?"

"Where is she?!" Claire asks, leaning down with her flashlight. "We need to get down there-"

Suddenly, they hear movement reverberating from downstairs as the mansion's primary entrance door is forcefully thrust open. To their horror, Ganados gush in, swaying chainsaws and machetes, vocalizing praises to Saddler and confirming Los Iluminados' arrival.

"Damn it—infectors!" Carlos panics, attempting to stay composed. Glancing back at the hole where the team's doctor disappeared, he turns to the rest of the team. "We have to go, or else we're dead."

Claire looks at Carlos in disbelief. "What? You can't be serious. We can't leave her behind!"

"We have no choice, Claire!" Hercules insists. "She's surely safer than us. Once we lose them, we go after her." The Ganados begin their approach, leaving the team with no option but to look one last time at the hole before fleeing, hoping to find a safe shelter or the rest of the team.

And temporarily leaving her behind.

----

2:42 A.M

"Ray, you need to come upstairs; infectors have been spread out by Saddler!"  A voice echoes urgently from the radio, capturing the attention of Umbrella's biologist. Ray, the virologist, takes off his glasses as he grips the radio in his hands.

"I'm coming." He replies with haste, swiftly grabbing his handgun, holster, and vest. He rushes out of the laboratory, momentarily forgetting the door ajar.

The quiet exploration around the nightmarish building leads Piers and Chris to shadow Ray closely, hiding in a dark corner, waiting for him to disappear completely from point of view. Once the coast is clear, carefully and inaudibly, they push the door carefully open, sneaking inside a well-made laboratory. The contrast in the built between the rest of the raggy mansion and the well made secret laboratory is almost unbelievable. The Umbrella logo proudly stands against the wall, its redness giving a warn color through the grey place, almost indicating a corporation with the cult.

Entering further, their gazes fall to almost unrecognizable bodies of Ganados lie on the tables. Amputated arms, legs, heads, a sketch of the fully-developed parasite, and a human flesh under the effect of the Plaga.

"What the fuck is this?" Piers mutters in shock. Chris, disturbed by the grim images, contacts Claire, Hercules, and Carlos through his earpiece, but surprisingly, there's no response.

"Damn it," Chris curses, glancing at Piers. "Looks like there's more to this mess... Search for the suitcase. It might be here."

Piers nods resolutely, and both of them spring into action, scouring lockers, drawers, and counters for any sign of the unreachable briefcase. Chris takes the right side, while Piers tackles the left, their search growing more urgent as time ticks away.

"Anything?" Chris questions, his impatience palpable.

"Nothing at all, Captain," Piers reports, closing the final drawer. Chris nods tightly, disappointment etching his features. "Come on, let's get going and find—"

"Stay right where you are!" A stern voice interrupts as Umbrella soldiers storm in, blocking the laboratory entrance. In an instant, Chris and Piers raise their rifles defensively.

The soldiers, undeterred by the show of arms, advance menacingly. "Drop your weapons. Now!" one of them commands, his rifle almost touching Chris's chest. Piers and Chris exchange glances before reluctantly lowering their weapons to the floor, a temporary surrender.

The soldiers kick the discarded guns away, their weapons still trained on the duo. "Hands up," another soldier demands.

Chris and Piers raise their hands, their defiant glares never leaving the Umbrella soldiers. As two soldiers approach for a thorough search, the tension in the room thickens.

"Where is everyone else?" The unidentified soldier sternly interrogates. Chris hesitates briefly before responding.

"It's just the two of us," he lies convincingly. The soldiers exchange skeptical glances.

"Now, I wouldn't play like that if I were you," the soldier threatens, pressing the tip of his rifle against Chris's chest. Silence. He gives it a moment before adding, "If you're here for the agent, you arrived late. He's a lost case now," he declares firmly.

"I don't think so," a voice asserts from the laboratory entrance, drawing everyone's attention. Leon points his gun at the Umbrella soldiers, entering slowly with an unwavering aim. His gaze, filled with resentment, remains fixed on the soldiers. "I still have my brain intact."

"Not for long," the soldier taunts, a smirk hidden beneath his mask. "We are all stuck in this hell—all for one suitcase." The soldier's aim stays locked on Leon, who returns with an unyielding gaze. "We are all toying with this flame for too long now. You decided to snoop around when you were given the chance to flee, now you will face the consequences."

"What's Umbrella's connection to the cult?" Chris demands, his tone persistent, provoking a mocking laugh from the soldier.

"You have a nerve, asking for such classified information," he taunts.

"It's not classified when millions of lives are on the fucking line," Leon asserts sternly, cocking his desert eagle. "Where is the suitcase?"

"If you think you'll get what you want, you're sorely mistaken," the soldier retorts. "So, you're left with two choices: either work for us or meet your end in this laboratory, rotting with the infectors."

Upon the momentary silence that occurs, Piers assesses the situation and decides to make a bold move. He grabs the rifle from the soldier aiming at him, delivering a decisive strike with the butt of the gun before snatching it away. Chris mimics the move simultaneously.

Another soldier, initially aiming at Leon, swivels around, prepared to fire. However, Leon swiftly grabs the soldier's arm, discharging a shot into the ceiling. Luis immediately follows in, his gun in his hand.

The gunshot reverberates, attracting unwanted attention...of the Ganados.

----

2:51 A.M

"Tell me."

"Redfield has been captured, though we have a complication," Ada pauses. "Saddler has spread his infectors to the mansion," 

A tense silence lingers on his end. His knuckles tighten, the strain visible as his hands clench into fists. "The suitcase?"

"It's in the church," Ada reveals, her voice echoing in the moist underground corridors. Above her, the cacophony of bullets from Sinfuls and Umbrella forces clashes with the growls of the Ganados. "Saddler is in there. His cult is about to perform a ceremony."

"Order our men to withdraw and flee Redfield. Find a way to send the team to the church. If you see Kennedy or the nurse, you know what to do."

"And the samples?"

"Whatever we agreed on."

Ada remains silent for a few seconds. "On it," she affirms and begins jogging through the labyrinthine underground passageways of the mansion. Suddenly, her brisk steps slow as her sharp eyes lock onto three figures ahead. She cautiously approaches, keeping a safe distance to avoid detection.

One of the figures is a familiar face, being dragged toward the cell rooms. Ada decides to tail them, her movements calculated and precise.

----

The trio rushes, following the faint sound of the gunshots, fully aware of who they're coming from, after their failed attempt to find (y/n). They have lost her for good, now that things get extremely bad.

Trying to reach Chris in the chaos, Umbrella soldiers suddenly are rushing their way towards any possible exit while some others are being beaten to death by Ganados that seem to have spread all over the place. Hercules and Carlos remain hidden behind walls that will help them stay hidden.

Just as Claire wobbles on the verge of exposure to the enemies, Carlos swiftly seizes her arm, pulling her towards him. Her body halts just shy of Carlos, her gaze meeting his intense stare.

"You alright?" Carlos inquires, his hands supporting her arms, their proximity palpable. Claire clears her throat, momentarily looking down before Carlos respectfully withdraws. "Personal space, got it."

Hercules peeks from his vantage point, ensuring the coast is clear. Carlos gestures for Claire to follow, grabbing his rifle. "We find the others, then we go after (y/n)," she proposes. Both Carlos and Hercules nod in agreement, consulting the radar to locate Chris and Piers.

"They're on the ground floor. Let's get moving," Carlos directs, and the trio follows the sporadic gunshots that eventually cease, replaced by screams and slashing.

It doesn't take more than several minutes until they reunite abruptly with the others—Leon, Piers, Chris, and Luis—drenched in blood and rushing towards them.

"Leon! Luis!" Claire exclaims, relief washing over her at the sight of their partners being safe. But there's no time for celebration as they also reunite with Ganados, close in with murderous intent.

Hercules and Carlos draw their weapons, firing at the approaching threat, providing cover for the team to escape. The two men then join the group as they make a dash for the exit, slamming the doors shut behind them.

Spotting Umbrella's vehicles surrounding the mansion from a distance, they quickly change direction, heading towards a nearby shelter near the mansion.

----

Luis, Hercules, and Carlos labor to catch their breaths as they forcefully shut the stable doors. Piers, assisted by Leon, thrusts a substantial piece of wood against the doors. Chris, panting, holsters his rifle, while Luis clutches his chest, gasping for air.

A moment of silence ensues, allowing everyone to process the recent events. The survival of Piers, Chris, and Leon owes much to Luis's guidance.

"We made it..." Claire utters, rising to her feet, the rhythm of her breath gradually normalizing. "You guys are alive—" Her words cut off as she turns around and takes in the sight of the team covered in what seemed to be Umbrella's blood. 

"Thanks to me." Luis pants, a triumphant grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "I swear on my mamá, I saw Jesus while we were running," he adds, squeezing words between breaths. Leon remains silent as he leans wearily against the door, hands resting on it as he tries to regain his strength.

"What happened in there?" Hercules asks.

"Umbrella were the men in Rosewood..." Chris explains, still catching his breath. "They've set up a full-blown laboratory here, filled with bodies, even from the island."

The shocking news leaves the team in silence for a moment. "They still don't have access to the suitcase. We need to find it and get the hell out of here," Chris declares, his frustration evident.

"Yeah, about that, we've got a problem," Carlos interjects cautiously, unsure how to broach the upcoming yet sensitive subject.

Luis groans, clapping his thighs impatiently. "What's the issue now?" he asks, irritated. 

Claire and Carlos look at each other for a bit, remaining silent, and bracing themselves for a possible storm from Chris. The stable grows for a few seconds silent. Leon spits a small amount of blood, walking up to them. His gaze weak.

"Is anyone of you gonna talk?" Piers raises his voice, prompting Carlos to shift his gaze toward Hercules, catching him in the act of staring guiltily. Carlos takes a deep breath before finally admitting,

"(y/n) came with us..." A cold pause occurs, the growling faintly echoes from the far distance. All the team's eyes are on Carlos.

"What?" Piers asks in disbelief. Just then, the first fuming reaction begin to surface as Chris steps angrily beside Piers.

"What do you mean (y/n) came with you?" Chris demands, his anger threatening to boil over. Leon immediately inches closer, waiting also for an explanation. 

Yet, silence, making Chris finally explode, "I strictly ordered her to stay inside the base during missions! You allowed her to disregard my orders?!"

"I take full responsibility for it," Hercules steps in, surprising Piers. "Leave Carlos and Claire out of this. I insisted for her to join us to assist me, in case Leon and Luis are infected since I can't treat the parasite." Hercules glances at Leon's skin for a fleet moment. "And it seems that I was more than right."

"This is why we have Luis, Hercules." Chris sternly rebukes.

"Where is she now?" Piers asks, lowering his weapon. CCarlos and Hercules share troubled glances. Claire looks at Chris, realizing they don't know. Guilt washes over her for losing (y/n) so easily. 

At that very moment, Leon's gaze hardens watching their silence.

"You left her alone?" Leon snarls, advancing towards Hercules. Gripping him by his collar, Leon pins him against a wooden wall, eliciting a hiss from Hercules. Anger emanates from Leon for leaving her alone in this chaos.

"It wasn't by choice," he speaks, his threatening gaze pinning Leon. "She was right behind us—until the second-floor collapsed under our feet. She vanished out of nowhere when we were inside, looking for you. We couldn't find her and the infectors were after us."

"So you're telling me, (y/n) is inside the fucking mansion with the infectors and the cult?!" Chris shouts, enraged with what he hears.

"We scoured the area once we managed to escape the infectors," Claire steps in, trying to explain. "But...we just couldn't find her-"

"Pray that she's alive. For your own good," Leon warns, his gaze a threatening force directed at Hercules. He applies additional pressure against Hercules' chest with his fist.

"Enough!" Piers interjects forcefully, silencing Leon with a light shove away from Hercules. "We are losing precious time right now!" 

Taking a deep breath, Chris closes his eyes momentarily, and his tone shifts to a calming one. "Piers is right," he declares. "Less talking, more action. Leon, Luis, and Hercules, you go and retrieve the suitcase. Claire, Piers, and Carlos, you come with me to find (y/n)."

"No," Leon interjects, regaining his ground. "You go and get the suitcase. I'm going after (y/n). Alone."

"It's not safe, Leon. You're-" Leon quiets Luis with a stern glare, leaving him and the team silent.

Without further delay, Leon turns his back, retrieving his desert eagle with a violent cocking motion. With deliberate, heavy steps, he approaches the exit. Right before leaving, he turns around, shooting Hercules an intimidating glare. "When I'll bring her back, there will be consequences." Gaze filled with cold threat and determination as he finally steps out.

Chris glances at Claire and Luis. With a firm nod, he orders them discreetly to follow Leon. 

----

2:59 A.M

As consciousness returns, you feel a sharp pang shooting through the side of your right leg, a cruel, yet faint reminder of the unknown foes who forcefully pulled you into this situation. Struggling against the sudden weakness in your body, you attempt to sit up, only to be met with escalating pain that forces a whimper from your lips. Breathing heavily in distress, you gaze downward, discovering a rusty metal fragment resembling a pen lodged in the side of your thigh.

"Shit, no, no, no.." you murmur, trying to steady yourself...

If there would be a competition for being the unluckiest person, you'd get first place.

Your fingers tentatively wrap around the metal. Taking it off slowly surely won't help the situation. It will only torture you slowly. Steeling yourself for the impending pain, you take a deep breath. With a swift motion, you extract the metal piece from your thigh. A stifled cry escapes your throat as blood begins to flow from the newly created wound. The sting only causes you to grit your teeth, tightening your jaw in response.

Surveying your surroundings, you desperately search for something to stop the bleeding. Across the room, your abandoned backpack catches your eye, its contents spilled aimlessly. Summoning the last of your strength, you attempt to stand, but the pain surges once again, sending you back to the ground. With no other option, you crawl towards your backpack, leaving a trail of blood in your wake.

Your subdued groans and slow progress miraculously escape the notice of any potential threats. Collapsing against the musty wall of the basement, you reach for your gauze and scissors, cutting the fabric away from your leg. Reaching for your backpack, you retrieve the small bottle of hydrogen peroxide and you pour it onto the wound, wincing at the sting. With another piece of gauze, you clean the injury before wrapping it securely around your thigh.

As the pain subsides slightly, you carefully push yourself up, leaning on your surroundings for support. Taking your now dusty backpack, you sling it over your shoulder and cautiously approach the closed metallic door. Surprisingly, it swings open without resistance. Pushing it forward, you slowly walk out of the room where you were held captive, limping lightly. As you move, you realize you're in an underground location.

Your steps are deliberate and hushed against the rocky and soiled underground floor of the mansion. You have no clue where you are, and no clue where you're heading to. Your main goal is to find an exit or a path to help you reunite with others. And fast. 

The spooky atmosphere surrounding you heightens your paranoia enough to believe that something or someone else is after your tired traces. Urgency also drives you to find a solution for treating your wound before infection sets in.

"El lord, Saddler." Ghostly whispers and prayers drift from the distance, causing a shiver to run down your spine. The cult is close.

Amidst the creepy growls, faint squeaky cries draw your attention. You freeze, attempting to trace the source of the sound. The door of a nearby room creaks open, revealing candlelit shadows inside. Moving slowly cautiously, you approach the room, the cries growing louder.

The moment you enter, a nightmarish scene unfolds before your eyes. A newborn baby lies on a stained stone table, its forehead smeared with blood. His tiny arms and legs wriggle, as his cries pierce.

"Fucking hell.." Despite the pain throbbing in your injured leg, you take immediate action, moving quickly towards the distressed baby, your hands already reaching for your first aid backpack. The poor little one trembles, likely from the cold, or his tiny lungs struggle with the remnants of fluid. From your pack, you extract gauze, hastily wrapping it around you loosely, creating an impromptu baby wrap to comfort the trembling infant.

Next, you pull out a small bottle of hydrogen peroxide to wash off the bloody cross from the baby's forehead. As you soothe the baby, you carefully take him in your arms, nestling him against your warm embrace. 

"Sh, sh...you're..you're okay," you murmur softly, pressing the baby's head against your chest, rocking it gently to calm the cries of pain. Your reassurance is interrupted when you glance down at the infant's tiny arms, black-veined lines faintly visible all over them. 

The baby is not crying from cold or lung pain; it's infected. There's- a literal infector in your arms, and it's only an infant. 

This is so sickening to witness..

Panic threatens to overwhelm you, unsure of what to do. Hell, how to even react, but you push through, reminding yourself of your purpose—to save lives. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, focusing on finding a way out and keeping this fragile life safe. 

"Let's get you out of here, okay?" you affectionately whisper to the baby. However, as you approach the exit, shivery exhales halt your steps.

"You..." a soft, strained voice echoes behind you. Turning gradually, you face the other side of the room, where a pale woman, covered in her own blood, struggles to breathe. A rushed c-section has left her vulnerable to infection or worse. Death.

This fucker, Saddler.

Her weak gaze turns to face yours. Your mind is in a state of shock as you approach the desperate woman slowly. Her breathing grows heavier, seemingly perceiving you as a threat.

"I'm a doctor. You're gonna be okay, I promise," you try to ease her through your trembling voice, hastily pulling out gloves and putting them on. The newborn in your warm embrace now only coos as you extract alcohol and remaining gauze to provide the woman with initial aid. 

Given her condition, you can't stitch her up, so the gauze becomes your only ally in this rough situation. "I'll get you out of here. Alright?" you continue to reassure her, though uncertain of how you'll manage to escape this place without endangering both of your lives. They've left her like this for a long time, you can't figure out how long she will take. It's almost a miracle she's still alive right now.

"Please.." she chokes out as you swiftly reach for your first aid backpack, tears rolling down her dusty and pale face. "Don't let me die—Not like this," her struggle to speak breaks your heart, and the pain she feels sounds almost unbearable.

Her choked sobs take a toll on you. You try your best to suppress your own tears, needing to be strong for this woman and her child. She weakly reaches for her calm son's tiny hand, her thumb pressing against his palm, seeking comfort.

Clearing your throat, you attempt to maintain composure. "You will not, I promise," you assure her as you carefully lift her ripped shirt up to the ribs, clenching your jaw at the wretched state they've left her in.

"Are you-...with...them?" the woman asks with difficulty. "Those....soldiers..."

Her sudden question catches you off guard. She knows about them as well? "What soldiers?" She doesn't reply, sniffling and letting out choked breaths, redirecting your focus to your task.

"The soldiers...who work-....for him..." 

"For who?" you implore, seeking further clarification. "Who brought you to this place?"

"No..." she whispers in despair. Her sudden distress becomes apparent. You slowly lean backward, attempting to grasp the reason behind her anguish. "Not him."

You frown, confused, until—

"Sinful child..." a voice growls right behind you. Swiftly pulling out your knife, you try to turn around and strike one of the two masked men who appear before you. Your blade connects with his chest, but he remains unaffected. Each masked figure seizes you by an arm, the baby beginning to squeak as you struggle to break free. They forcefully turn you around to face Saddler, his masked visage with glowing eyes. The infant starts to cry the moment they take him away from your chest. Once detached, they shove you to the ground and secure your hands.

With that forceful push, your injured leg barely responds due to the pain, blood passing through the gauze, soaking it.

"Your act will not go unpunished." 

----