Remission Protocol

by TwoVampiresInATrenchCoat (ajaxmoon)

Summary:

A containment breach exposed you to a never-before-seen viral prototype. You should have been dead but instead, it stabilized. Now you are the first known carrier of a virus in 'clinical remission'. You aren't infectious. You're not even symptomatic. But you are not human. And the DSO doesn't trust you.

You are alive. You are changed.

Chapter 1: DAY 0 - Subject 001: First Contact Inititated

Nothing about the DSO containment facility screamed comfort. It was buried in the snow of a small European country no one knew of. The outside was a brutalist corpse of a building with no signs of life on the exterior other than the blinding flood lights that illuminated the barbed wire fences on the perimeter. Towering concrete walls with a reinforced metal door gave it the feeling of a sealed tomb. This sub-level prison was like Pandora’s box, except the only monster Leon had been warned about was you.

Surveillance cameras were attached to every corner of the building, following Leon and his assigned guard with every step they took. The halls smelled of antiseptic and the faint yet familiar iron of blood. Leon hated places like these. They were always quiet but never in a way that provided peace. It gave a false sense of security, like something would pop out and attack him at any moment.

All of a sudden, the guard stopped at a door deep within the facility. He didn’t say a word, just stood beside the threshold and gestured for Leon to enter. He didn’t question it, just walked through the door in silence. 

Looking around, there wasn’t much to see. There was a wall of glass which looked thick enough to stop a bullet, completely dark on the opposite side, and that was about the only interesting thing. The only other objects in the room were a metal folding chair and a landline phone on the wall that looked like it had been disconnected years ago.

Leon shifted to sit on the chair, assuming something was bound to happen. And it did. Bright fluorescent lights buzzed on from the other side of the glass. His eyes were met with the sight of you sitting perfectly still. Your arms were resting on your knees. Head looking down, unblinking. Machines beeped occasionally behind you and monitors kept track of your vitals through wires attached under your plain, white clothing.

There was something empty looking about you. Hollow eyes, no expression, no signs of movement. You almost looked human. If it weren’t for the patches of rough, midnight black skin littering the limbs he could see, he wouldn’t have given you a second glance.

“Agent Kennedy,” from seemingly nowhere, a voice crackled through a hidden intercom system. You didn’t even flinch at the sudden noise. “Its vitals are normal. The subject is stable and responsive. Proceed at your own discretion.”

Leon didn’t enjoy being told how to handle you, and he also didn’t like that the voice had called you an ‘ it ’. You were still a human being. You had managed to somehow survive a virus that should have torn your cells apart on a molecular level and yet they gave you the title of an it like you were some creature in a zoo.

He stood from his seat and took a few curious steps towards the thick glass. He didn’t approach too fast in fear of startling you. Except he knew you likely wouldn’t budge until he spoke to you. But you surprised him. Your eyes snapped up from the floor and went straight to where his firearm sat on his hip.

You were still reading him when you looked up to meet his eyes. There was nothing there to show your emotions. No indication of fear or apprehension. Leon couldn’t tell what you were thinking as you studied him. It was unnerving to say the least but he didn’t lose eye contact with you, even when you opened your mouth to speak.

“You’re another babysitter I don’t need.” Your voice was hoarse from disuse. It came out in crackles that were less than pleasing to the ear. 

Leon continued moving forward, stopping a few feet from the glass. “Consider me more of a long-term houseguest.” He spoke slowly and carefully, as if any word that came out his mouth would make you freak out.

“Your predecessors were meant to be long-term too. They let me take care of them.” Your tone was flat as you made that statement. When Leon came here to do this job, he was aware of the casualties revolving around your containment. Multiple government agents had been listed as MIA on their files, and their last known location was in here with you. It wasn’t a comforting thought by any means that he might end up just like them, but he had survived stranger things.

“So are you going to talk me down when I go all crazy? Or is there something more exciting going on with you?” You asked him, eyes looking him up and down, taking him in - his tired eyes, the way his hand rested on his belt just in front of his knife, the way he didn’t seem amused by anything you said.

“I’m here to put you down,” he said. “Should it ever come to that.”

“Charming.”

The silence that stretched out between you was similar to the yards of barbed wire on the fences above ground. Leon wasn’t sure what to talk about because there wasn’t any topic on the planet that you would probably entertain. Unless he asked questions about your file? Did you even know the horrors the scientists had written about you?

“Do you feel it?” He finally asked. Even in the quiet tone he used, his voice still had a slight echo to it in the concrete chamber. Leon wondered if you could feel your body decaying and rebuilding itself all over again. He wondered if it hurt or if you had a completely new understanding of what pain was.

You looked at him in silence, looked past him, towards the security camera above his head that watched your every move. When you finally responded to him, there was no fear or hurt in your tone. It was boredom, almost surgical. Like you had said the same script over and over again.

“This body isn’t mine anymore. And it knows.”

Leon blinked. His jaw flexed uncomfortably. You met his eyes once more. They were filled with a silent, creeping certainty. It didn’t look like you were using your own eyes to see. “I should be dead,” You stated, just like your file repeated over and over again. 

“They won’t kill me yet.”

“I’m not going to kill you either,” Leon answered. “You’re stuck with me until further notice. So get used to living under my watch.”

You gave a dry and humorless snort in response. Leon turned and pulled his metal chair towards the glass to sit close to it. You watched him the whole time, silently wondering why he was being so brave with you despite the fact you could smell the uncertainty wafting off of him in waves.

“You’ve read my file I assume? You’re brave for deciding to do this Agent Kennedy.” You commended him without a sliver of sincerity in your tone. He wasn’t brave. He was a fool for thinking he could control and contain whatever had claimed you. 

“I have read it. I have lived some of it myself.”

That made you pause. Any sort of smugness and superiority you felt left your body. Sitting back in your chair, you closed your eyes. The machines behind you beeped in a slightly different tone, sensing a disturbance beneath the surface that Leon was oblivious to.

“So if I turn, Agent Kennedy,” You spoke softly, “You know not to hesitate.”

Your eyes opened and Leon held your stare. His look said all it needed to. If it came down to it, Leon would take you out of the game with one bullet straight between the eyes. You wondered if he actually could go through with it. Despite looking like you were rotting away, you still looked human and acted human enough. 

When Leon looked away from you to his hands in his lap, you kept your eyes on him. You had a strange feeling somewhere deep inside of you that he truly wouldn’t be like the other Agents that met their fates at your hands. For the first time since the virus had taken you captive, you didn’t feel so distant from another living being.

Notes:

i have been thinking about doing something like this for a long time. the reader's powers they've gained are probably gonna be my favorite thing to write about. comments and questions are greatly appreciated :)

Chapter 2: DAY 1 - Subject 001: Talkative Today

There was no sunrise to wake you here. There was only a fading sterile white light to ring in a new day. They gave you no way to tell the time so you didn’t even know it was a new day. You guessed that whenever the lights came on, it meant it was another day. Perhaps they’d let you out to see the sunrise one last time before the virus took you.

The cot they had placed in your glass cell was narrow and cold. You chose not to use it, opting to sleep sitting up against the wall on the floor in a bundle of the thin blankets they also provided you with. The solid feeling under you as you drifted off to sleep was reassuring. It was one of the few things that could ground you from your hallucinations. Plus, lying down brought on nightmares anyway.

You were waiting for Agent Kennedy to show up – assuming he would come back after meeting you. He would have been smart to stay away and pick up a new mission from his handler.

You sat crossed-legged against the wall you fell asleep on. One arm was draped across your knee, wrist bouncing in boredom. Breathing steady but an elevated pulse. You looked at your copious amounts of monitors. Symptoms suggested another temperature spike was incoming. 

When the scientists come into your cell during the day, dressed head to toe in protective gear, you watch them closely. You had picked up on what tests they did, what the different noises from the machines meant for you, and what order they ran things in. There was a rhythm to it that you were learning now – the way your body heats and cools as if trying to regulate something bigger than yourself.

The door on the other side of the glass hissed open.

Your eyes drifted up, slow and casual. Agent Kennedy was carrying a folder under his arm and twirling a pen in his hand. He stepped inside the room with a neutral expression. The same jacket with the fur lining he wore during your first meeting was wrapped around his broad shoulders. Was it truly that cold in here that he needed that? You had never noticed if it was.

Boots scuffed against the floor as the man went to sit down. They had moved a desk into his side of the room. You must have been out cold if you didn’t hear them do it. 

He unpacked the folder and placed files out on the table, sitting down and beginning to write the moment he pulled his chair in.

One thing you noticed quickly after seeing Agent Kennedy for a second time, was that he never announced his presence. All the others before him attempted to say a polite greeting or start up conversation. However, he made no effort to put in niceties. It irked you. The others had at least tried to make their time down here less awkward.

“Didn’t expect you to come back so soon,” Your voice echoed in your ears. If he wasn’t going to fill the silence, then you sure would. They hadn’t come to run tests yet today, so you were bored. “You flatter me, Agent Kennedy. I didn’t think I was worth it.”

He stared up from his file, his expression betraying his lack of amusement. “You’re not.” Was all he said in response, his voice full of static from the intercom system between rooms. You put your hand on your heart, feigning hurt. The black patches of your skin prickled as you moved. You looked to see your hands were fully black now. A few days ago, the dark patches had only coated your fingertips. Now it enveloped your entire hand, spreading to parts of your wrists subtly. How hadn’t you noticed such a drastic change yet?

You turned your attention back to the government agent. He was now scribbling down words in his file which made you click your tongue. “Thought you might pretend to like me to make life a little easier.” You told him, playing with your fingernails idly. 

“Pretending doesn’t help either of us.”

He stared you dead in the eye after those words. His gaze was sharp and unreadable, like a still lake slowly being frozen over. Agent Kennedy was different from the others in the case that his stare felt heavy. He catalogued everything about you whenever his eyes deigned to look your way. Your posture, your tone of voice, even the dilation of your pupils when you showed interest in his existence. Everything was studied and noted.

You pushed yourself up slowly and stretched. Deciding to do a few laps of your cell, you swung your arms casually as you walked from wall to wall. You looked up every so often to watch Agent Kennedy write. You tried to guess what his first name was. They never let you know now after the first agent the virus killed. Her name had tormented the staff dealing with you for weeks.

“Are you usually this lovely, or do I just bring out your delightful personality?”

Kennedy flipped the folder to a new page. He didn’t even bother to entertain your attempts at witty commentary. “Last night all your vitals spiked. Fever, elevated heart rate, signs of REM disruption and nightmares.”

“Colour me shocked,” you mumbled, coming to sit near the glass where you could get a closer look at him. “It’s almost like I’m mutating.”

He didn’t respond to that either, just held up a picture from his file for you to see. It was a thermal scan of you from what you were assuming was last night. There was a violent heat pooling behind your eyes and in your hands, exactly where the black murkiness was taking over your skin. The rest of your body was stone cold. Had someone other than you or Kennedy looked at this, they might have thought you a corpse.

“That my glamour shot?” You rocked back and forth, eyes narrowing at the picture. In all honesty, the bright red of the heat signature scared you. It had never been such a vibrant and aggressive shade of red before. Something was happening deep within your core that you were unaware of.

Ever since the virus had taken hold of you, it was like there was a split consciousness within your brain. Sometimes you would show your true humanity but other times there wouldn’t be a trace of compassion left in your actions. It showed whenever you thought of the victims your condition had claimed. There was no pity for them despite knowing every detail of what you had done to them, down to the very last moment where their hearts stopped beating.

“There’s been no signs of cellular breakdown since last night.”

“You sound almost disappointed.”

“Not disappointed. Just cautious.”

You dragged your murky fingertips along the ground, drawing meaningless pictures for an excuse to move. You heard the flipping of paper and looked to see Kennedy shutting his file.

“Did you sleep?” His eyes weren’t on your face. They were staring openly at the black skin of your hands. The question threw your for a moment that you didn’t care he was staring. None of the others had ever asked about your sleep. The scientists only ever asked if it was important to their experiments, their voices sterile and empty.

But Kennedy sounded like he cared. There was something about his words that sounded genuine and meaningful. You couldn’t tell if you were just being hopeful or if it was the truth.

You chose to shrug and play up like you didn’t care. “How do you define ‘sleep’?” You made air quotes and rested your eyes on his that were still staring at your hands. 

“You’re too awake to have slept more than twenty minutes,” He began slowly, leaning back in his chair. “You have enough energy to be sarcastic and deliberately evasive but the bags under your eyes suggest your one moment from hitting the deck.”

A smirk grew on your lips. “Flattery and a diagnosis? Agent Kennedy, how you spoil me.”

He didn’t find you funny and it was evident in the way he fought back a scoff. “I’ve seen people like you before,” His eyes hardened and he crossed his arms across his chest. It was then you noticed the fingerless gloves he wore. They really suited his tough guy exterior, but you tried not to focus on it when he continued speaking. “You think if you talk fast enough, or give a witty enough response, then people won’t notice the cracks forming.”

Something about the familiarity he had with ‘people like you’ made you wonder if he was included in said group. 

“And what will you do when you finally see my cracks?”

“You know the answer already.”

Kennedy pushed his chair back and rose to his feet. He collected up his things in silence as you watched him with an almost predatory look on your face. You could feel the burning behind your eyes. The skin on your hands was smouldering under the surface and it made your expression sour. 

The agent swiftly moved to the door, files under his arm and pen resuming its twirling. 

“See you tomorrow, Agent Kennedy.”

He paused before opening the door. A fraction too long.

“You need to stop pretending you’re in control.” He said before walking out, not looking back.

Notes:

i promise chapters will get longer as i go, i just need to set up leon and the reader’s dynamic a bit more. i have big plans ahead!!

Chapter 3: DAY 2 — Subject 001: Red Light Spells Danger

The room felt more like a coffin than it had the past two times Leon stepped into it.

With the lights off on your side of the room, he thought he had shown up early. His watch was definitely on time. He had turned the hands the moment he got off the plane to match the timezone. There must have been something wrong with you if they hadn’t gotten you up already. His suspicions were quickly confirmed by a voice coming through the intercom. 

“It’s not talkative today, Agent Kennedy. Good luck getting it to cooperate.”

He almost scoffed at the blatant disregard for any humanity you had left. Leon’s sympathies for you weren’t something he ever intended to voice in your direction, but he could think them to himself.

The lights on the other side of the glass suddenly filled the room, illuminating your frighteningly still body. You were sitting dead upright in a chair. The air around you seemed to be still with not a single hair or object out of place. Your posture was straight, and your hands were folded neatly on your lap. Your eyes looked clouded over as they stared widely into nothingness. Not even the overhead lights cast a glint in your pupils.

You didn’t snap your gaze to him like usual when he moved to sit down. The silence from your end of the intercom was deafening. No sarcastic quips, no commentary, not a word. It was almost like you were sitting there waiting for something to happen or someone to show up — someone that wasn’t him. 

The strange aura that you cast into the room made him uneasy. It was then that Leon noticed the black skin on your hands had spread all the way to just past your elbows. It was almost as if you had stuck your forearms in a bucket of paint. It made him wonder just what your cells were going through to give that effect and if you felt it happen. It had to have spread overnight because the last time he saw you, the coverage hadn’t been this concerning.

Leon moved slowly as he flipped through his files and images. The scientists that had carried out your tests this morning had walked away with a few bruises, one of them having been bitten on the shoulder by you as you tried to fight them. They’re lucky to have gotten out without any broken bones or worse. All the photos taken of you for the day were through the security camera footage. Leon looked up at you after reading that. You were still zoned out and unresponsive.

He took this time to look you over properly. On your brow there was a cut that looked like it had only been cleaned and not dressed. Your usually white hospital scrubs had small spots of blood on the neckline that could’ve been missed if he wasn’t looking properly. These two things were evidence of the struggle with the scientists. Had they not bothered to give you fresh clothes at least? Did you clean your wound yourself or did they risk sending in another member of staff to help?

Leon folded his fingers as he sat forward in his chair. It was his turn to try and start a conversation today (he had a feeling it wouldn’t be easy).

“I thought I was early today,” He looked at his watch, the hands going around monotonously. “Your lights were still off.”

Nothing.

There was no smirk. No witty comment. No jab at his weak attempts at getting the ball rolling. He sat in silence with you for about half an hour before trying again. 

“Sleep well?” He asked, trying to pull your attention from the spot on the wall behind him. You blinked once. Then twice. All with the ease of someone who had never had eyelids before. It looked difficult for you and ultimately painful. The whites of your eyes were bloodshot. It was disturbing when you slowly, inch by inch, turned those eyes to him. They were still wide open and closely observing him. It somewhat gave Leon the creeps.

“It seemed pointless to lie down,” You spoke so quietly that it came through the intercom in a whisper. “Didn’t sleep.”

Leon frowned, his eyebrows creasing deeply. “You have any nightmares?”

You shrugged in response. The motion was mechanical, but in the way an old animatronic from a rundown arcade would move. Leon could imagine the bones popping under your skin as you moved. Sitting stiffly in that chair for hours must be doing no favours for your back right now. He subconsciously shifted in his own seat.

Leon zeroed in on your face. There was tension in your jaw, deep eyebags smeared under your eyes, and something about the way you moved and the texture of your skin was just…wrong. You didn’t look sick but something about your physical appearance looked off. It didn’t look exactly like you had the past two days. It brought Leon back to what he had told you yesterday.

‘You need to stop pretending you’re in control.’

Had you taken his advice? God, he hoped not if this is what it was doing to you. 

“I can request sedation? Or perhaps a regulatory system to help with the fevers so you can sleep peacefully-“

“It’s not the fevers.” You snapped, cutting him off completely. It was the first thing today you had said with any force behind it. There was an angry look on your face now. The glare you were giving him was threatening despite Leon never saying anything that could be remotely considered offensive. Your fingers flexed in your lap, like you were itching to get your hands on him. 

“You’re not yourself today.” Leon bravely spoke, paying close attention to the way your expression momentarily became one of shock.

“That’s to assume that yesterday, or any day for that matter, I was myself.”

There it was. The flicker of the attitude you had given him the day before. Looks like you were finally ready to talk to someone.

“I’ve spent so long trying to be myself,” Your eyes cast downward to your hands. You picked at the nails absentmindedly. “I try to hold onto whatever’s left. Personality, memories, everything. But the longer I’m here, the more of me fades.”

Leon didn’t move. He didn’t even pick up his pen to write. Your words hit a bit too close to home. Ever since the events of Racoon City, Leon had been in a similar position to you emotionally. Parts of him were slipping too. The memories of his time in that damn city kept him awake at night and he was stuck between insomnia and nightmares whenever he tried to rest his head. The old him had started to wither away and he was worried he would never see him again.

“There’s a voice in my head that says ‘I will not be afraid’ but it’s getting smaller by the day,” You spoke quietly, scowling at your darkened skin with enough hatred to burn a hole in your skin. “I have to really focus to hear it now. Whatever has me trapped in here has learned how to torture my brain and not just my body.” 

The silence was long between you both as Leon considered what to say. When you raised your head to stare at him again, a little bit of light had returned to your eyes. He could see the slightest hint of fear buried deep in your pupils — fear that you might lose yourself and never be able to come back. Leon understood that feeling more than anyone in the building right now.

“When I told you to stop pretending, I didn’t mean that you should let the virus take you,” He spoke the words he tossed around in his head while you expressed your concerns. “I meant that you don’t need to pretend you are alright when the symptoms are clearly getting worse.”

Leon wanted to express that he was here to help you, but those words had probably lost their meaning a long time ago. He could only imagine just how many times they had been spoken to you only to be followed by painful experiences. Leon decided that was one of the thoughts he should keep to himself for the time being.

 

—

 

You don’t remember ever falling asleep but you are awoken to an alarming red light filling your cell and Agent Kennedy’s observation room. It was strobing, rapidly switching between the red and complete darkness. The occasional flash of white came too which burned your pupils and made you squint. 

Panic rose in your chest as you became disorientated. The rude awakening sprung your body into action before your brain had fully caught up to what was happening. Your skin was burning and the rhythm of your heart was so fast you could barely feel it. 

Out of nowhere, an accompanying siren joined the lights. It was sharp and mind-splitting. It was definitely a warning if you had ever heard one. A voice spoke through the intercom system repeating words you could just barely hear over the shrill scream of the siren.

“CONTAINMENT BREACH DETECTED. LOCKDOWN ENGAGED. ALL UNITS REPORT TO EMERGENCY POSITIONS.”

You pulled yourself up off the floor, using the wall to hold your weight. The concrete felt smooth against your bare arms as you shuffled over to peer through the glass wall. Between flickers of your reflection and the dark room beyond, you could see that Agent Kennedy’s chair was vacant. You were alone in here and about to freak out.

A containment breach had never happened before, nor had a test for one. Who was trying to get in? Or what was trying to get out? As far as you knew, you were the only subject they held in the building. But then again, you never left this cell so what did you know?

Your hand — blackened and veins full of unnatural heat — goes up to touch the glass and creates a foggy outline around your fingers. When you come just shy of placing your palm down, you feel something strange. The glass was vibrating and was starting to get more and more aggressive as the seconds went by.

You took one last look at the room beyond the glass in confusion. Why was no one here yet?

It was then that a crash came echoing through the building, somewhere out the door behind you and down the hall. You spun around with widened eyes, shocked and heart still racing a million miles an hour. The sounds of metal on metal were coming closer and your only response was to stand there helpless in wait. 

You were frozen with your breath caught in your throat and your ears straining through the sirens to hear the noises behind the secured door. 

No loud sounds come through for a moment. There’s silence as you watch like a deer in headlights, waiting for something to come crashing through any moment. But nothing does. 

Your eyes go to the biometric panel used to open the cell door. There’s a red light blinking where there’s usually a green one. It flickers once or twice before it dies completely, leaving the panel blacked out with no visible sign of it being on. 

Shortly after the panel went dark, the lights above your head shut off too. Your cell was left in complete darkness save for the faded glow of the emergency exit strips glued to the floor and door. 

There was another crash from the hall a lot closer this time. This one had weight like a giant footstep. There was something alive out there, you could feel its pulse and hear its snarls. 

You backed up along the glass and didn’t dare to breathe. Whatever was out there was getting too close for comfort. For the first time in weeks, you felt goosebumps rise on your skin and the feeling of shivers race up your spine. Despite the cold, there was sweat forming on your palms. You could feel the tremors in the floor of the thing moving in the hallway.

Something deep within you stirred at that moment. It was a feeling of recognition, of instinct to run to whatever it was outside. It was a feeling of kinship. 

You didn’t know what to do other than to back up into the furthest corner away from the door. You were alone here with nothing to protect you from the thing coming your way. Just like you could sense its being, you guessed it could sense you too. That terrifying thought is enough to root you to the spot in what felt like pure fear.

No one was coming to save you.

No guards.

No scientists.

No Agent Kennedy.

Nothing to keep you grounded except the cold concrete on your back and the desperate feeling of holding something inside.

Notes:

a billy ocean song becoming the chapter name was not something i was planning originally, but it came to me in a vision. there’s probably a very niche group of people who will enjoy that.

i’m putting together a playlist of songs that i listen to while writing this fic. here’s the link! enjoy :)

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4Gy0xcSRrTb8Au7aXj2oNW?si=6_9b3-fXTx-3ZeVgW6OHKw&pi=VUelT1YOSYa78&pt=be34231ca0be9364afa0a9fa4a06cb51

Chapter 4: DAY 2 - Subject 001: Genetic Makeover

Notes:

this chapter took so much of my brain power and i don't know why. it isn't beta read but i will probably go back and fix some mistakes when i get a free chance to. enjoy!

p.s: this story is now cross-posted on wattpad under the username -NEPTUNESSTARR

Something hits the cell door hard. You can’t see anything but it sounded forceful enough to leave a very impressionable dent. A beat goes by before it slams again. This time the sound of metal warping inward follows it, making you curl further into yourself than before. Surely it was a pitiful sight to see — someone so used to violence scared of a little bit of confrontation. But this felt a lot different than when the scientists came barging into your cell. Whatever was breaking down the door wasn’t human like them.

Your breath hitched in your throat when you heard it. A low animalistic groan was coming from the direction of the new gaping hole in the wall. Padded feet stalked into the cell, echoing in your mind as you imagined just what this creature looked like. You tried to keep as still as possible in case it hadn’t noticed your presence yet. Your eyes scanned the dark for a quick escape. Perhaps if you were fast enough on your legs made of jelly, you could outrun your fate. The emergency exit strips, however, were so dull that they provided no aid to your scrambled attempt at forming a getaway route.

Needless to say, you were terrified. Nothing had ever been in your cell other than yourself and scientists. You weren’t aware there were other beings in this facility as well. As far as your knowledge ever went, you were the only monster they kept locked up in here. Could there be something more dangerous than you? It seemed you were about to find out.

Your cell felt smaller than it ever had before. The claustrophobic dread that swarmed your senses was so overwhelming you could feel bile threatening to travel up your throat. It was searching for you, sniffing out the air in attempts to locate the corner you’d hidden yourself in (albeit badly). Without being able to stop yourself, a small shaking breath of fear left your lips. The creature suddenly turned quiet and you knew you had messed up. It knew you were in here now and who knows what it would do to you in order to satiate its hunger.

Heavy, scraping footsteps started to prowl across the room. It was almost as if it bore claws made of metal. Each movement was slow and deliberate. It knew you were waiting in baited breath for it to finally find you — it was playing with its food. The anticipation of waiting for your guts to be clawed out your body was such a disturbing feeling. You wondered if anyone would come to save you or if they would get here too late. You doubted that they would ever care that you died to this beast. It would just be more mess to add to the cleaning list at the end of the day. And you were sure they could make use of your corpse for testing.

Another few sniffs came from in front of you. It was within arms length now. You could see its skeletal features and lean, dog-like frame. It walked on all fours as it closed in on you, every step causing its claws to scrape across the concrete ground. It had a tail similar to a scorpion's metasoma that was whipping back and forth. Its entire body was black and hollow like your arms, but in the case of this beast it had no semblance of a human form. This thing was feral and looked rabid. The only thing that gave the hint it once was human were the scraps of fabric now moulded into its flesh as if it had happened rapidly.

Hold on…

You could see it?

As you stared at the creature, it stared back. It didn’t pursue you any closer. Instead it actually hesitated. Something about you was making it reconsider its meal. You looked down to find that the infected skin of your arms was now decorated with blue glowing veins. That had never happened before and you were just as baffled as the creature it seemed. Now you had noticed, it was like energy was pumping through your body at extremely fast rates you had never experienced before. This could be an explanation as to why you felt like your heart was about to explode out of your chest all of a sudden.

Your eyes shot back up to the skeleton creature as it sniffed the air again. You were still cautious at having this abomination within reach. Insectile eyes studied you and it tilted its head, recoiling an inch before retreating backwards unexpectedly with its tail between its legs.

It didn’t like what it smelt.

You blinked. Once. Twice. You let out a breath, not of relief but disbelief. With jerking movements the creature disappeared from the room, running back the way it came. This thing – whatever or whoever it used to be – seemed scared of you or at least wary. In its eyes there were obvious hints it felt panicked and threatened. It stared at you the way a deer looks at an oncoming car on the road in the middle of the night.

Only claw marks on the cell floor were evident of the being’s arrival and departure. You were still staring at the busted door when the lights flickered slowly and dimmed into a soft white. Your fingers twitched and you looked down to see that the black had risen up beyond your sleeves now but the blue veins still littered your skin. The light was dancing beneath the layers of flesh, pulsing like it was aching to escape.

–

The air in the cell was heavy when Leon finally arrived. There was no tang of blood like he was expecting to find after learning your cell had been breached. This was different. Recycled air from the ventilation system pushed a damp, chemical scent around the room. It lingered faintly in the back of his throat whenever he breathed in.

He had prepared himself for a body or evidence of a struggle, but when he saw you standing and staring at your hands, he was confused to say the least. You weren’t too far from the door so he tried to keep his distance when he fully entered your space. The stance you took made you seem unbothered at the wreckage around you. Your shoulders were loose and your head tilted slightly as if you were listening to something only you could hear.

Leon’s attention was mostly focused on the spread of the darkened skin on your arms. Thin, glowing lines of blue stretched across your arms like cracks in obsidian. The darkness had spread beyond your sleeves and Leon could see small whisps peaking out onto your collar bone. This was worse than when he had seen you yesterday.

Given the circumstances and no other evidence, Leon’s first thought was to assume that you had done this. You had a violent history and there were multiple cases recorded of you lashing out at scientists. But there were no escape attempts on record. As a precaution, Leon’s hand hovered over his holster where his pistol was stowed away. If you tried to pull anything then he would move into action immediately.

“You okay?” He asked quietly, more of a test than a question. Another realisation Leon had at that moment was that he didn’t know your name. On every piece of documentation, you were just referred to as ‘Subject 001’. If he had known your name, he would have used it to get your attention and maybe ground you.

A blink and then your eyes were on him. They went to his hand inching for his gun and then to his face. “Sorry I couldn’t clean the place up a bit before your visit.” There was a rasp to your voice, similar to when you first spoke to him. He didn’t acknowledge your quip as he took a few more glances at the room.

“What happened here?” Leon asked, noticing the claw marks which defiled the floor. You didn’t have an answer for him right away. Instead, your attention was on his hand positioned to equip his gun at any given moment. He realised that despite sharing your thoughts and feelings with him, there was still no trust between you both. You felt threatened by him.

Leon took it upon himself to remove his hand from his side, slow and deliberate so you could see he wished no harm upon you. His previous assumptions about you being the perpetrator of this mess were fading. There was no way that you were capable of causing all this damage, even with your mutations.

“Did you see what it was?” You asked him, looking behind Leon and out the gaping hole where the door once was. You waited for an answer from the agent, confused at his silence. As your eyes slipped back towards him, you were shocked to find he wasn’t there at all. It was like he vanished into thin air.

You pivoted in place, checking every angle of the room. “Agent Kennedy?” You called out to him only to be met with no response. Panic quickly overtook your senses. Thoughts began to race as you tried to figure out where he went. He couldn’t have left so fast. He was right in front of you after all and there was no way he could slip out of your presence without you noticing.

Your anxiety manifested as a tightening grip closed around your throat, invisible yet full of anger, cutting deeper with every breath you attempted and failed to take. Panic clawed its way up your chest as your eyes darted frantically around the surroundings of your cell, searching for something to help you unblock your airways. Each inhale dragged like shattered glass through your throat, sharp and biting, as though you were being filled with water. Your hands shot up instinctively, jagged nails clawing across your throat in a fruitless attempt to ease the pressure, to tear away whatever invisible force was strangling you. Pain pickled sharp at the base of your throat, burning hot as you convulsed in a fit of ragged coughing — a last-ditch effort to expel the weight drowning you on dry land.

—

Your eyes burned as you came back from the deepest part of your mind. The brightness of the overhead lights made you squint, and the first thing you noticed about yourself was how dry your eyes felt. Blinking felt foreign as you attempted to unblur your vision which was fuzzy around the edges. There was no more looming dread of your imminent death, everything was back to normal as far as you were concerned.

One moment it was all flashing lights and giant man eating beasts bursting through doors with nothing on the brain except dinner. The next, you were back where you usually were with no damage done to yourself or your cell. It had all been stripped away like it had never happened at all.

The cell’s surfaces were unbroken and no longer bloody. There was no stench of iron in the air and dust settling on every surface and inside your lungs. It was similar to how it was every day of your life — four cold and desolate concrete walls and a pane of thick glass. Back to factory settings. The space offered nothing new, nothing to give hints as to the nightmare you just experienced.

As your senses started coming back one by one, you noticed other things about your condition. Your breathing was heavy and the heart monitor behind where you stood against the glass was going crazy to the point its beeps were all in quick succession of each other. The adrenaline from what you had been through hadn’t faded yet. It demanded your fight or flight to kick in despite there being no immediate threat. There was nothing broken, nothing chasing you. There was only the normalcy of your cell.

Movement caught your eye. It was small but you had caught it just on the other side of the glass.

Agent Kennedy.

He sat in his usual spot beyond the bulletproof barrier with his elbows braced on his knees as he leaned forward. His hands were clasped loosely, thumbs twirling as he watched you closely. For once, his expression wasn’t completely made up of his usual stoic composure. Worry traced the edges of his face. It was subtle but very much real. His eyes looked softer and there was a small crease in his brow which gave his concern away.

You were rooted in place, only being able to stare back at him in confusion. “What the hell happened to me?” You asked him, genuine fear lacing your broken tone. Your throat was scratchy and you had only the desire to chug water to soothe it.

The blonde watching you didn’t answer right away. He leaned back in his chair and looked to be contemplating if it was safe to disclose anything to you. Finally his voice cut through the intercom, the sound of it being unusual after hearing it so clearly before. You wondered if what you heard in your ‘nightmare’ was what he sounded like without the static interfering. “You tell me.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

Your eyes went to the brown leather gun holster strapped around his shoulders. The way it tightened with the movement distracted you momentarily before your gaze was directed at your hands. They were different. You turned them over multiple times in a desperate attempt to find something – anything – that confirmed what you went through was real. Your limbs had been pure black. You had seen them right before you, consumed by the inky darkness with veins pumping pure energy beneath the surface.

“They changed,” You said, louder than you usually spoke. Your throat fought you, tightening with the effort you put into defending yourself despite Kennedy never once attacking you. “Both of them! It was spreading and–”

Agent Kennedy’s voice interrupted you, steady as always. “You’ve been standing in that cell for hours. The only change in your physicality was that there were no more dark markings on your arms,” He gestured to his file on the desk in front of him. “It was like that when I got here this morning.”

His words sat wrong with you. The memories of your experience were so fresh and had too much clarity to be dismissed so plainly. The terror you felt and the unmistakable look of recognition in the creature’s eyes before it fled was real. Agent Kennedy had been there with you, his pistol at his side and his caution around you was real.

Your jaw clenched tightly. “But I saw…I felt it all.”

“You were dissociating." Kennedy said, his tone was gentle in comparison to the weight of his words. He wasn’t trying to brush you off, he wasn’t trying to mock you like the scientists would have done. “Whatever you saw messed with your perception of reality. There’s also the fact that whatever that virus is doing to your body isn’t just physical, you know that.”

You dragged a hand down your face, fingers trembling as you let out an exacerbated sigh. He wasn’t wrong with what he was saying. There was the possibility whatever you went through was just a by-product of the virus screwing with your mind. It wouldn’t be the first time something like this had happened. Hallucinations. Delusions. False memories that felt more real than reality itself. All of this was in your file.

But knowing this didn’t make the feelings fade.

“It wasn’t just in my head.” You muttered into your hands, still encasing your face as you tried to calm your still speeding heart.

“Look at me,” Agent Kennedy’s voice drew you to him. You took your hands from your face and stepped closer to the glass. “I know it’s difficult to ground yourself, but you have to understand that none of that was real. You’re safe while I’m around.”

Those words had never been spoken to you before. And despite only having known Agent Kennedy for a short while, you couldn’t help but trust what he said. The way he carried himself was enough proof that he was a man of his word. You knew that his primary goal was to document you and protect others from your outbursts, but his statement implied he would save you from yourself too if it ever came down to that. It was oddly comforting to know that.

Your voice cracked when you spoke up next. “What if I can’t tell the difference between the line of sanity and insanity anymore?” His eyes followed you as you began to pace in your cell, up and down the glass wall like an animal in captivity.

“You’ll learn to tell the difference,” He spoke with a quiet conviction that was laced with assurance, not dismissal of your concerns. “You’re not the first person to go through this, but you’re not alone.”

Agent Kennedy’s attempt at comfort was appreciated considering it was a rarity in this place. It pressed heavily in your chest as you finally stopped your pacing. You didn’t exactly feel safe but you felt steadier than when you first came back to reality. Back in your original place now, you placed a hand against the glass. You were not used to seeing your hand look normal again after so many months of the abnormal discolouration staining your skin.

“I look almost human again.” You let out a humourless laugh as you waved your hand in the Agent’s direction. He didn’t respond to you with words but rather a shake of the head and a small twitch of his mouth. A small smile spread to your face at that reaction. Of course resorting to your usual support mechanism of dry humour would be best to get you back to feeling normal. The heart monitors had since stopped their aggressive beeping and your muscles no longer felt like they were going stiff.

“I don’t think I’ve ever asked before, but it only feels right since you’ve made it a few days with me now,” You started, placing yourself down on the floor and crossing your legs. The smile was still on your face as you got Agent Kennedy’s attention once more. “What is your name? Calling you by your last name makes me feel like some weird colleague.”

There wasn’t an answer right away but eventually the man you were speaking to decided it wasn’t such a bad idea to share. “It’s Leon. And yours?”

The question being shot back to you caught you off guard momentarily. Your name wasn’t something you ever spoke about in here. Even the scientists never asked for it and it was likely they didn’t care if they did know. You were just an animal to them with no purpose other than to be their guinea pig for all sorts of ridiculous tests.

“It’s Y/n. Or at least I think it is? Memory hasn’t been the best since I got here.”

Leon tested your name a few times and it felt so bizarre to hear someone speak it. You returned the favour by repeating his name on your tongue a few times. In that moment you decided that you would try your best not to let Leon turn out just like the other agents before him. You would try your hardest to keep your virus under wraps so he wouldn’t be in harm's way. If he said he would keep you safe, then it was only fair you did the same in return. Why?

Because Leon Kennedy would never lie to you like the others had.

 

Notes:

as always, thank you for reading! comments and kudos are always appreciated because i love knowing what you guys think. i have a fun thing planned for the next chapter and a general layout of where i want the story to go now so huzzah!