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When Leon had turned on the power to open up Ben's cell, somehow, foolishly, he'd not considered the possibility that meant all the other cells opened as well. Not until he turned the corner, parking ticket in hand, to be faced with a horde of undead, shambling towards him.
“You've got to be kidding me.”
Looking for another way out, he noticed a switch had also powered on, and quickly hitting it, was relieved to spot a side door slide open. Leon eagerly took the new opening, wanting to conserve the little ammo he had left on him.
Only, of course, it couldn’t be that simple.
With the well known heavy footsteps heralding its arrival, the Tyrant stomped down the new hallway, its gaze fixing on him the moment he came into its line of sight.
Great.
Leon hesitated, glancing back the way he came as he considered his options.
He wasn’t sure if Trenchy was still feeling merciful, but he would much rather find that out than deal with the mob of undead blocking the other way out.
So cautiously, weapon holstered (not that it would do anything to it anyways), he approached the towering monster, hoping it wasn't looking for a gut to punch.
“Hey big gu-”
Leon nearly yelped as the tyrant swiped for him, just barely jumping back in time. Stumbling back as it recovered, Leon quickly bolted back the way he came, as its large frame filled the hallway, forcing him to get too close and personal if he wanted to squeeze by.
He had no idea what had made the tyrant change its mind, but he had no time to figure it out, and couldn't risk it catching him.
He’d ran out of knives and flashbangs, after all.
Unfortunately, Leon didn't get to go far, nearly stumbling into the not-so-loving embrace of a zombie in his frantic scramble away from Trenchy, barely managing to pull out his shotgun and pop it head like a balloon.
Dammit, that'd been his last shell.
Switching to his glock, he did his best to thin out the crowd as fast his could, the approaching heavy footsteps putting a shake into his aim. A shot only clipped an undead's ear, Leon cursing under his breath as he did his best to steady his aim.
He just needed to clear a path and bolt through, and he'd be home free.
As decaying hands reached out towards him, Leon heard his gun click with an empty cartridge, and his stomach dropped.
He was out of bullets.
Leon stumbled back, dread washing over him as he barely dodged a zombie’s swipe, the sound of heavy footsteps quickly growing nearer.
He was fucked, he was so fucked.
Letting out a nervous laugh as his time alive was quickly running short, Leon got stuck in a paralyzing panic, knowing both directions he ran would mean death.
The undead did not care for his state of frozen dread, rotting nails digging into his arms as they dragged him towards themselves.
Shit shit shit!
Running on frantic adrenaline, Leon beat at the shriveled fingers that gripped him with his empty pistol, the formerly ranged weapon ineffective at driving them back as he desperately tried to pull away.
His back hit something solid, before large fingers circled his neck and lifted him upward.
Leon sputtered in shock at the sudden stranglehold, legs kicking uselessly in the air as he was lifted with no effort, pulled away from the neurotic grasps with ease. His empty pistol clattered to the ground, before getting lost beneath zombie feet.
The tyrant.
Leon clawed uselessly at the gloved hand, gasping for air, as Trenchy held him high by his neck, lifting him far out of the undead's reach.
Was this it? Has his luck finally ran out? The vivid imagery of Ben Bertolucci’s face being popped like a grape flashed vividly in his head, and a whimper sputtered out his mouth.
“Why!?” He barely choked out, stars starting to dance in his vision.
Why did it change its mind again? If it had wanted him dead, why had it bothered to help him in the way that it did?
To his surprise, the tyrant cocked its head slightly, cold silver gaze softening, before it raised him above its head, grip loosening as it opened its mouth wide. Leon choked out a laugh.
Of course.
He didn’t struggle as it slipped his boots into its mouth and swallowed.
Leon went slack as it gulped him down not unlike a hotdog, only going rigid as he greedily sucked in air as its grip loosened, light headed and dizzy from the stranglehold.
He didn't like it, but right now, with no ammo to name, he'd be foolish to not let himself be tucked away inside the big meaty impenetrable shield. Even if said shield had choked him out moments ago.
It could've been worse. It could’ve squeezed a little harder and snapped his neck with ease. But it didn't.
It was strange, maybe it was the earlier oxygen deprivation talking, but Leon found himself feeling that the squeeze of its throat was comforting, pulling him into safety, like a big long tight hug. A soft chuckle escaped him, as his head slid past its teeth, and he closed his eyes.
Without Leon fighting it, the rookie went down quickly, the tyrant licking at his fingers as the last of him left the light. The warm soft flesh surrounded him as he slid into its stomach, going slack against the walls.
He was going to be okay… right?
Doubt still nipped at the edges of his mind like a frightful animal, that he was in danger, a prey baring his neck to his predator. But he was too tired to care, adrenaline crashing and body recovering from being strangled. He didn't have control anymore, he just had to trust he’d be okay.
So he laid there, listening to the beat of its massive heart, trusting he’d wake to hear it again.
“Please don’t scare me like that again.”
Leon mumbled the words into the soft flesh, unsure if they'd go heard, as his weariness dragged him under, and he once again, fell asleep in the belly of the beast.
The tyrant sighed, patting its middle gently, before it started to crush the undead shambling before it.