Chapter Text
Slumped against a corner, a young man heaved a heavy breath. He laughed bitterly and licked his chapped lips, the taste of iron lingering on his tongue.
"Well," he coughed, "can't stay here forever."
The man peeled himself from the floor, his bones aching with every movement he made. With a groan, he attempted to stretch.
Legs: In working condition.
Neck: Could be worse.
Arms: Arms...?
While his right worked fairly well, his left struggled to move.
"Shit," he whispered, "it's always gotta be my good arm, huh?"
The man groaned, "Okay Leon, we can get out of this mess. We always do, remember?"
Leon was right about this fact. He did always get himself out of trouble, no matter how broken his mind or body came out of it. This time however, was a whole different situation; he had a feeling that this one would be a bit tougher to slip out of.
After dusting some debris off himself, Leon decided to check for all of his weapons. He felt for the knife taped to his chest, it was still there, thankfully. He sighed in relief, just thinking about any of his weapons missing was enough to make his mouth go dry. His hand instinctively reached for his handgun, and instantly froze when it was met with nothing but the cold air of the building. At that moment, time seemed to freeze as Leon's mind started to spiral. This would be fine. All he needed to do was look inside his briefcase and- He had a briefcase! Why didn't he think of that before?
Leon looked around frantically for his precious case, but it was nowhere to be found. He sighed and sat on the ground, now aware of the fact that it was much colder than he remembered, and kicked at the small bits of grass peeking from the cracks in the concrete. Very faintly, Leon heard the sound of something shifting behind him and snapped his head towards the source of the noise. He adjusted himself to see what could have possibly done it, and crawled a little closer to get a good look. It was a barely visible black nub that came out of a pile of rubble. Curiously, Leon brushed some of it away, revealing a very dusty but familiar black handle. Immediately, his eyes lit up. 'This is it!' He thought as he dug the case out. By the time it was fully revealed, he held it up like a proud parental figure. Everything in there was precious, or, at least what he thought was in there was. After a few moments, he set the case down and prepared to open the clasps, suddenly nervous about what would or wouldn't be in it.
The metal of the latches chilled his fingers, and the sharp clicking of them being opened seemed to send a chill down his spine. 'Optimism, Leon, Optimism' he thought to himself, unaware of the true contents of the case. He wished he opened it swiftly instead of creaking it open at a snail's pace, because what he was greeted with would almost be enough to make anyone in his situation cry.