Light Casts Shadows [RE4: DavetheHuman+Candentia]

candentia

candentia

Moon
Joined
Oct 20, 2014
Location
USA
Ashley Graham was positively determined that if she made it out alive of this freak-infested hellhole, she was going to learn how to shoot a gun. Lots of guns. Maybe even a crossbow to mix it up a little.

Thoughts like that helped her not give in to the panic that made her heart pound so hard that she was sure there was a bruise the size of a grapefruit on her ribcage. There were moments when she had to go down on her knees on the disgustingly cold and put her head between them to wheeze as if she were suffering from an asthma attack. Moments that were too dreadful to bear in uncertain stasis that grew with the passing hours. How could someone have gotten her out of the country? How?

She wasn't fooling herself, a President's daughter being kidnapped wasn't as dire as the President himself going missing but still, her disappearance had to be big news. FBI and CIA scrambling to find her from the moment her car didn't make it back to her family's home in Massachusetts. It boggled the mind how someone could have smuggled her out of the country and how no one had come to rescue her yet.

And yet the cold reality was that her butt was freezing, she was starving and if stress and fear hadn't keyed her up tighter than a piano string, she would have been sleeping in exhaustion. They -- whoever 'they' were -- had dumped her in this closed room with barrels and nothing else and it was incredibly creepy to her. Not that the situation wasn't weird enough, but there was something... strange and unsettling about the situation. Something alien and wrong. The room was something way out of history, even the barrels looked like a prop out of some medieval movie.

It was all strange. For someone who'd grown up with the possibility of being kidnapped, she'd had a lot of training in what to expect and how to behave -- which was always 'be patient ad we'll come get you' -- but no one had ever said about being kidnapped and locked up in some sort of ancient pre-Renaissance castle in a foreign country.

She rubbed her face, sighing, and then went absolutely still as she heard... something. Movement. The blond whirled around and made a dive for her only weapon, a fairly hefty stick that she'd found wedged behind a shelf. She'd gotten more than one splinter embedded in her palms from pulling it out but a weapon was a weapon.

Whoever was about to come through that door was going to get a lot worse than a splinter.
 
Leon Kennedy had only served in law enforcement for a short time, but he had seen some very strange things. However his time on this Spanish island put everything else to shame. This place seemed to be what every conspiracy theorist had been drooling about for decades. Impossible things happened over and over, causing the special agent to wonder if this was all some feverish dream. But he knew better than that. The threats were real and if Ashley Graham was here, then it all the more dire.

Searching through the side rooms of the old church, Leon saw one door he hadn't opened yet. Drawing his USP 9mm, he kept the muzzle pointing forward as he twisted the doorknob and pushed. Just as he was trained, his eyes scanned the room from corner to corner rapidly. One threat came at him, but it was just a wooden stick which tumbled through the air and hit the wall beside him. It's thrower was the woman he had been searching for, Ashley Graham.

The special agent, slide the USP into his thigh holster and quickly closed the door behind him. "Ashley, it's ok. My name is Leon Kennedy. Your father sent me to bring you home." Leon knew that the name of his organization and title were of no importance to a kidnapped girl. She had been capture for a long time before his arrival so he made no intention of lingering in Spain.

He took a few steps toward her, understanding her hesitation. He decided not to press further but instead let his words sink in. Fighting his way into the church, he now assumed it to be empty. But he had learned this place could fill with enemies at the drop of a hat. However that was nothing he wanted to burden Ashley's mind with. He just hoped she was mentally strong enough for her to follow him out of this hell hole and back to the US.
 
Second thing on the agenda; learn how to throw, you twit. There went her only weapon, about as useless as tossing a ball of tissue. Ashley would have screamed in frustration if she thought it would have helped the situation any. She took several cautious steps backwards until she tripped and landed on her butt, eyes trained on the gleam of the gun until it was put away, which gave her pause and actually made her look at the person in the room with her.

More than him being handsome, his accent being unmistakably American nearly brought tears of relief to her eyes. Who knew if he was telling the truth? He could be working for someone else with their own malevolent plans for all she knew, it could be like jumping out of the frying pan and into the searing fire but he was there, he was big, and if he could get her out of there she was completely on board with this idea.

Ashley made what her father would have called a 'strategic choice' to take her chances. Playing up her well-known ditziness never hurt.
"What? My father?" She didn't have to pretend to sound hopeful. She really hoped this guy was on the up and up. But where was his team? Ashley scrambled onto her feet, glancing over at her thrown stick and then at the door. "Are they out there?"

Whether she meant his team or those weirdos was up for debate.
 
Leon could see she was shaken up quite a bit, and who wouldn't be? He nodded and said "Yes, your father sent me here to take you home." The special agent had wondered what the girl's mental state would be. Thinking optimistically, he had packed a small handgun, a Sig Sauer P232 in a pouch on his belt. He planned on giving it to Ashley if the situation became extra nasty, which is was, but he had be confident in her mental state, which he wasn't. So for now the polished pocket-pistol would remain with him. Hopefully that would change.

Leon had many friends in the Secret Service and they were always full of interesting things. One of which was programs offered to their political clients. If an individual was eligible for Secret Service protection, they were always offered self-defense courses ranging from hand-to-hand combat all the way to assault rifle training. He hoped Ashley attended some of the courses, but he heard few ever attended.

Hearing her question, he replied "No one is outside. We should move quickly and take advantage of that." He didn't see her question angling at friendly reinforcements. Leon was her only means of rescue for now.

The pair left the dark cellar and wove through the church until they reached the sanctuary. Upon entering, they saw a large man in a purple cultist robe. Leon knew it would be best to run, but something inside told him this could be important.

The hooded man spoke up and said "I'll take the girl."

Leon replied coldly "Who are you?" drawing his USP quickly.

"If you must know, my name is Osmund Saddler leader of this... religious community."
 
No one outside? What kind of one trick cart and pony show was running that operation? Or... or had they all gotten killed on the way in to rescue her? The color bleached from her face at the thought before her expression settled into one of grim resolution. Ashley said no more to the man as they left her impromptu prison, which had obviously better served as a storage room once upon a time. Casually as she knew how she snagged the stick on the way out, tucking it behind her. It stuck oddly out of the hem of her skirt but a little discomfort was not high on her list of worries.

No, Ashley was thoroughly getting spooked now that she could actually see what was happening around her. It wasn't like she'd gotten the walking tour on her way in -- she'd been unconscious nearly every single moment from the time the car had smashed into hers on the highway to waking up on chilly stone floors, only waking up long enough to intermittently grasp that it'd been days, if not more, since she'd left the college. Mostly they seemed to have left her unharmed, though she had strange bruises she couldn't account for. The surrealism of finding they were in some sort of genuine functioning medieval church made her wonder what kind of crazies were in charge. If anything, she kind of expected them to like this Leon Kennedy -- professional, fast and methodical.

Oh, Lord. Let it not be religious nutcases. She hated those. Ashley stopped when he stopped as they entered a large chamber, then peered around Leon. Observed the robe. Grimaced. Religious nutcases. Definitely. Figured. That explained all of the crazy. Why Leon was even bothering to wait and speak to him instead of shooting him was beyond her, but she guessed he maybe had a reason? Just not one she'd like. So she nervously glanced around, trying not to shudder at how insidiously evil that voice sounded. The Phantom of the Opera would sound downright jovial in comparison.

She didn't particularly care why he wanted her. It wasn't anything good. But Leon was stalling, so... nothing was attacking him, and she'd be stupid to run ahead without him, so Ashley decided to play along. The stupid angle. It kept people off guard.

"What do you want?" Like hell she was going to ask the specifics of what he planned to do with her. Ashley was game but not that much.

Seemingly surprised, the man shifted to look at her with his unfortunate face that only a mother could love, the candlelight doing the sallow skin that hung in folds no favors.

"To demonstrate to the whole world, our astounding power of course. No longer will the United States think they can police the world forever. So we kidnapped the President's daughter to give her power then... send her back." He sounded like so many nutcases that she saw online and on hate shows that for a moment she dismissed him as yet one another of the idiots who thought they deserved more -- but something about the speech jotted a memory. A snatch of light and conversation in the darkness.

Ashley brought a hand up to her neck, horrified to remember the smoothness of an operating table. There was a bruise there and a cut, but she hadn't given much thought to it. "No. No way." She sucked in a breath. "Leon, I think they shot something in my neck."
 
Keeping his sights on Saddler, Leon growled "What did you do to her?"

The hooded cult-leader replied "You two will find out when the eggs hatch, and yes... you were given the same gift. But I'll give you just enough to think on. Once those eggs hatch you will be puppets to me, following every order I command without question."

Leon hated it, but flashes of memories returned which corroborated Saddler's words. Plus the soreness in his neck, which he told himself was from stress, must have been the injection point. The special agent was seething for retribution, but suddenly the large double doors behind them opened and two crossbow-wielding monks entered. The tips of their bolts were tipped with flames, and Leon knew Ashley's safety always came first.

Grabbing her wrist, he ran to the side of the church and fired several bullets into the stain-glassed window. It weakened it's structural integrity just enough to allow the pair to lunge through it, breaking the glass like egg shells. Landing on the ground, he helped up Ashley and said "We have to move quickly."

They ran from the church and into the woods. Here it would be more difficult for them to be spotted. For a long while they just hurried, words didn't cross between them. Weaving through trees and the occasional bear-trap, they arrived at a small village but Leon kept them in the woods.

He pulled out his radio and turned it on "Hunnigan do you copy... Hunnigan." There was no signal but he didn't want to scare Ashley. "We have an evac. point placed. Radio or not, someone will pick us up."
 
Ashley Graham had been groomed since she was very young to expect to have a spotlight shine on her with the power of a thousand suns if she stepped out of line. Anything that she did that wasn't proper, wasn't decent, always reflected badly on her father. His aspirations to become the President of the United States had begun before she'd even been born; lesser scandals had been known to derail political careers than one wild child off-spring.

So for the most part, Ashley wasn't giving to swearing. Or violence. Playing the sweet, chirpy blond made everyone happy and nobody paid attention to her. It meant having something resembling a normal life, attending college, pretending for a moment that half the world seemed to want her father's head on a silver platter.

Right then she wanted to both swear profusely enough to make a grizzled sailor blush and punch someone in the nose. And maybe use her nails to rip out whatever they'd put in her, claw it right the hell out before it burrowed into her brain or whatever that disgusting thing was supposed to do. Ashley's eyes narrowed and she was about to take one step forward towards the hooded man when the doors behind them slammed open. She turned around, saw the cross-bows and nearly threw her hands up. Not out of submission, but out of a definite gesture of 'are you freaking kidding me right now?'

Then they were bursting through glass, slivers of it biting into her bare arms and legs but going unfelt as she ran, sucking in fresh air for the first time in forever. It took all she had to keep up with Leon; every time she felt pain in her wrist meant that she was falling behind, and that wasn't in her best interests.

Bear traps. Strange sounds in the dark. Ashley was panting when they finally stopped at -- what else, a village, what the hell --and she gratefully slumped against the bark of a tree, clutching a hand between her breasts to keep her heart shoved right in there before it got any more ideas.

He wasn't even out of breath. Jerk. Ashley gasped through parted lips and and listened as he spoke into the radio. Not entirely running solo, then. Good... except there was no reply. No reply was never good. She shot him a dubious look, knowing she probably looked awful. Kidnapping, lunatics experimenting on and running through woods did that to a girl. Then her gaze skimmed down his body, focusing more on the sheathed guns that any sexual interest. At the moment she was too mad, afraid and out of breath to appreciate the niceties. Taking a gun would be easy enough when he was distracted.

"What did they do to you?" She asked instead, remembering that the old creep had indicated they'd both been victims of the same 'gift'.
 
Leon clipped the radio back onto his belt. Ingrid Hunnigan may have become sick of his attempts at a date, but he knew she wouldn't ignore communications because of that. These satellite radios were some of the most highly encrypted communication devices in the world. Leon knew It would have taken a lot of skill to jam the signal. But he didn't worry too much. Communications or not, a helicopter would come to retrieve him. They would just have the extra welcomed surprise of Ashley as well.

As he knelt on the forest floor he heard her question. He wanted to ignore it but replied "I think I was injected as well. It felt like a bad dream but I can feel the soreness in my neck." He didn't talk about the other clues. This all felt like some sick science fiction that his mind was having trouble grasping. So for now he focused on what he understood. They would need shelter for the night.

The special agent pulled out his binoculars and scanned the town through the trees. He didn't see smoke rising from the chimneys or people walking around. In fact, he couldn't even see fresh tire tracks or footprints in the mud. It seemed like this village would be the place to set up camp.

Sheathing his binoculars, he pulled out a small white aerosol can and motioned for Ashley to come over. He held her arm and sprayed the disinfectant along her glass-scraped arms. "Soon it will be dark... well darker. We will find a place to rest in the town there. Tomorrow we will continue to the evac point."

Leon stood and held out his hand for Ashley. "I know we have been running a lot. But once we find a safe house, you can rest for the night."

The pair walked out of the woods, Leon keeping his eyes peeled for movement. Weaving through the town, he decided on the two-story home in the center. It allowed the most visibility in case of an ambush. Once inside, they saw it was as abandoned as the rest of the village. Things were beginning to look up. He took bookshelves and barricaded the doors. Leon would have done the same to the windows but that would have made it obvious to outsiders that people were inside.

He checked the second story and then said "It's all clear, come up Ashley."
 
That hadn't been much of an answer but Ashley supposed that the situation didn't warrant a tête-à-tête in the middle of the forest while who knew what prowled around searching for them. Since they'd stopped short of going into the village initially, and the buildings matched that same indefinably decayed and out of place feel at the church, she had to guess that this whole area belonged to some sort of deranged religious commune. The locals wouldn't be providing a lot of aid.

She accepted the disinfectant without a word, plucking shards away that had become embedded in the flesh. That wasn't good, infection was a serious problem, but it also sounded as if it'd be the last of their concerns if Mr. Purple-and-Creepy had been speaking the truth. Following behind Leon, shoulders hunched close to her neck, she reviewed what she knew about viruses. Probably more than most people -- she'd been privy to more than one whispered conversation between top officials who thought her too enthralled with her cellphone to listen in. The words 'Umbrella' and 'T-Virus' got kicked around a lot.

The village was empty. How odd. People searching for them? Or... were the people all dead? She lingered over that grim thought a little too long, peering around corners and then watching Leon secure the perimeter. She didn't like being helpless but he was the professional, she wasn't. Military dudes like him never appreciated comments from the peanut gallery, she'd learned.

"Okay; I'm going up." She whisper-called out to him, taking the stick out her waistband and carefully going up the stairs, examining them for rot and structural integrity. Just her luck if it broke under her weight. But it held and she was on the second floor a moment later. The adrenaline was fading but she still wanted answers. And to talk to someone. Someone American and not crazy, preferably who wasn't planning to sell her off to some other maniac, but she'd take the first two.

"Can I take a look at your neck?" She wanted to verify for herself, eyeing him a little cautiously, placing the stick down. If he said yes, she'd probably by his side quicker than a flea on a hound but otherwise she kept her distance.
 
When Ashley arrived on the second floor, Leon was working on closing all the blinds. He didn't want to take any chances, but he did leave them open just a crack so they could peak out of it undetected. It made him very glad when he continued seeing nothing outside except for leaves blowing by. He hoped it would stay that way until their evac.

"The bed is all yours." He motioned to one of the few pieces of furniture on the second story. Leon knew her sleep wouldn't be sound and peaceful, but any rest she could get would be good. They had a long way to go and he needed her to be refreshed. Sure he could have used sleep himself but he was trained to run on empty and he was confident in his abilities even when his body needed to reset. Plus his adrenaline was coursing through his veins and the organic drug was always welcome.

When he heard her question, he nodded. "Let me know if you see anything." Leon sat on the empty nightstand and looked away from Ashley so she could see the side he assumed was the injection point. There was one thing that did reassure him and that was if this was the T-virus, he would have already turned. So if something was inside of him, there was still time before it manifested into whatever it was supposed to become. Like all of these bio-weapons it was oftentimes better to know less.
 
"Thanks." Ashley approached him quickly; there wasn't a whole lot of what she called 'good light' so she had to lean in close and observe. There was an area that looked a little swollen below the ear, a small reddish dot that was easy to miss marking an injection site. So that was what they'd done? She frowned, placing her fingers around the wound and testing for signs of deterioration, fever, anything that would give hint as to what sort of sick unwanted gift they'd been given.

"Excuse me." She said, rather rudely, placing a hand on the other side of his face to turn him to face her, peering hard into his eyes in search of overblown or dilated pupils and feeling relieved that she didn't see anything... yet. And that he'd trusted her enough to put his throat in her reach. Surely he knew that she didn't have knives on her but still spoke in favor of this Leon Kennedy being who he claimed he was. From her cupped hand along his cheek she could already tell that he was only running slightly warmer than she was, but that could have been from his recent moving around of old heavy furniture. "You seem alright. No craving for flesh munchies, right?"

... oops. Dark zombie humor might not have been the most PC. Ashley quickly pulled away her hands and took several steps backward, turning around to inspect the bed and begin brushing it free of dust. A pitifully meaningless gesture but one that gave her something to do.
 
Leon sat as she examined him. He had read she was studying medicine in college, so he knew she would be able to give a fairly accurate opinion. But if nothing else, it gave her a chance to focus on something instead of the people hunting them right now. So the special agent sat tight.

When she was finished, he smiled at her joke "No more than the usual craving I guess." Then he asked a more serious question as she inspected the bed "How are you holding up?" Leon got up from the nightstand and stood watching her. He knew she had cuts and scrapes from the glass, but that wasn't what he was asking about.

Outside the wind began blowing harder, making the ancient house creak. After a short while the sound of rain drops was heard on the shingled roof. Then it was followed by a pouring rain and thunder. Leon was thankful they found a safe home to occupy.
 
The bed was as dust-free as it was going to get short of chucking the whole mattress out the window. Ashley put a wrist against her mouth and tried not to laugh, though it came out rather strangled. Then she checked her hand, the front of it, biting her lip. Without saying another word she pulled off the sweater, spread it over the bed and began examining herself for signs of... something. Vital signs. Fever. Inner ear balance?

"I'm... " Ashley dithered over whether to lie or be brutally honest, picking out pieces of glass from her clothes, shaking the shirt tail out. What she really needed was a change of clothes but she didn't think they'd magically appear out of the air, no matter how well-prepared the man seemed. "I've been better, Mr. Kennedy. I could use a bath and a Big Mac, but I also neither seem to crave flesh any more than usual nor am I going to break down on you."

Her head tilted back as the first raindrops patterned across the roof, shoulders relaxing slightly. Maybe they wouldn't be found so easily if no one could follow their tracks. Then she sat, knees akimbo, and peered through pale bangs at him. "When's evac?"
 
Leon smiled when she answered in an up-beat manner. It was good to stay positive in times like this and it was hard to motivate people into thinking that way. "That's all good to hear but yeah I would love to have a Big Mac right now." He smiled and said "You can just call me Leon so you don't make me feel ancient."

Reaching into one of his pouches, he found two granola bars. They were chosen specifically for missions because of their high calorie count when compared to their small size. And they did indeed help fill you up but didn't have a five star taste. He handed one to Ashley and said "It's no Big Mac but it will keep your stomach from growling." He opened his and took a bite.

When he heard her question he had been avoiding this on purpose. She wouldn't like the answer anymore than he did. "Three days. But if we can get a radio signal it will be much faster." Since this mission was just checking on the reported Ashley sighting, they wanted to give Leon plenty of time to be certain. He really hoped the radio signal would become unjammed so the three days could turn into a few hours.
 
His pause should have given her warning but when he said 'three days', Ashley had just barely then taken a bit of the granola bar. It started go down the wrong way so she swallowed fast, gasping for breath and pounding her chest to get it down faster before she choked to death on it and the whole mission was for nothing. She grimaced at the burning sensation running down her esophagus as well as at him.

"You're joking." Her voice came out as a harsh whisper before she cleared her throat, tasting something vaguely like cranberry and dried up stale granola. He wasn't kidding, she knew, but her temper and dismay had gotten the better of her. Not his fault. But could they survive three days? The idea unsettled her. Not because of the inherent danger, of course bad people were chasing after her. Ashley's concern was a little... more serious. If it could be called that.

"Listen, um. Leon." She pressed her legs together and leaned her elbows on them, half-eaten granola bar in hand. "Right now we're not showing signs of... infection, you know? Not that I can tell, unless you want me to check all over, but the quicker we get some blood work done, the sooner I can stop worrying something's going to incubate and explode out of our stomach like Alien."

The rain had been joined by thunder, flickering white light harsh even through the blinds. She couldn't help but nervously look over and then got up, nervous energy making her go over to peer outside. Fear broke through her voice, and she hated to sound like a little girl. "I don't know if that guy was lying or not, but we might not have three days."
 
Leon shared the same concern. These alleged eggs inside of them were a ticking time bomb with an unknown count-down. It was a horror the two of them shared, but they couldn't let fear paralyze them. So he kept strong for Ashley. "Tomorrow we will begin moving to reach an area where the radio signal is freed-up. Ashley, we won't find out what Saddler's gift was because we are going to make it out of here. I promise you that."

He paused and said "Before we know it, the best doctors in the world will be taking good care of us back home." And if he was wrong... then he had no idea what would happen. But that was something he would never vocalize or even imply to Ashley.

"Think about that hot bath and cheeseburger and get some sleep. Tomorrow things will get much better for us" Thunder was exploding outside but Leon would not show any fear he held inside under any circumstance. He knew from experience that if a leader lost faith, everyone was doomed.

"I will be up guarding you every second of the night. You have nothing to fear, Ashley."
 
He was lying.

And he was a kind man for lying.

Ashley bit her lower lip as she peered out into the abandoned village, looking like something out of a set for an old-fashioned Dracula movie. Or maybe Frankenstein, before the villagers swarmed out of their houses with pitchforks and torches in hand, ready to slay the hideous creature. Or in this case, them. The rain blurred her vision, falling thick enough that she thought the world was weeping.

When she turned around again she had a smile on; not a particularly bright one but enough of one to indicate that the Serious Discussion Time was over. "Okay, Leon. Um. Wake me up if you want to get some sleep, okay?" He probably wouldn't take her up on that. But she'd thrown it out there, tried to make herself useful.

Her gaze flickered over to his guns and then she finished off the granola bar, not tasting it at all, before she curled on the bed. It creaked and shifted ominously but held her weight, smelling only faintly of mold and disuse. Playing along because she thought that sleep would skirt out of her reach, she closed her eyes, arm tucked under her head.

There was something vile about the land they were on. Evil people existed in the world. Normal people like her could turn overnight into biological abominations. If they were both sick then she'd been infected first. It was a very grim kind of comfort to know that Leon would be able to take her out if she did turn, if they didn't get home in time. But a comfort none the less. Ashley didn't want to die, but more so she didn't want to be a monster.

She fell asleep with that thought lingering like a seared afterimage.
 
Leon was glad when she didn't argue about getting sleep. She would need it for tomorrow's journey. He watched her climb under a few sheets and roll to her side. The special agent moved a chair over toward the stairs and sat. He stayed quiet for a long time, until he was certain Ashley was asleep.

Then he began checking his supplies. Ammo was beginning to run low. He had been lucky finding some in these village communities. It was a good thing they weren't anti-gun so he could snatch up ammo when he was lucky enough to find it. While he sat in his chair, rocking silently, he noticed a floorboard was moving from side to side slightly. Leon picked up his chair and got on his knees to lift the floorboard. What was inside nearly made him cry out in happiness but he didn't want to wake Ashley.

Reaching inside, he lifted up an old wooden stock Remington 870. Since it was one of the most popular 12 gauge shotguns in the world and a favorite for law enforcement, Leon was very familiar with it's functioning. He pulled out the two 25 round boxes of buckshot and loaded the dusty firearm. Perhaps their luck was changing, this find truly did lift his spirits.

Sitting through the night, there were a few times when Leon became dangerously close to falling asleep. His mind even entered the strange state where half-dreams came to him as thoughts. But he was shaken out of that when he heard a pair of footsteps in the mud outside. Usually with the downpour, they would be inaudible, but these footsteps were running.

Raising his newly acquired shotgun, Leon waited for the door to open below. Soon the footsteps had reached the bottom of the stairs, and he was glad he didn't shoot.

Luis smiled at up at the shotgun-wielding special agent. "Leon. Small world, eh?"

Leon, lowered the firearm and said "Luis, what are you doing here?"
 
The floor was thin; voices drifted upwards, one louder than the other. Ashley curled up tighter under the covers, intent on ignoring them until reality came crashing back in with its unpleasant reminders. Her eyes snapped open and she almost jumped out of the bed but stopped herself, shaking off the sheets and stealthily getting up. The old springs gave a low creak that made her wince but at least one of the voices continued with its ostentatious drawl.

Who--? Leon was alone, wasn't he? That Spanish accent made her stomach twist with concern as she sidled over to the stairs, going down to her knees so that she could peer over the edge to see what was happening downstairs. The conversation reached her clearly.

"Checking up on you, my friend. Turns out the locals are feeling feisty tonight, I figured 'why, old Leon probably riled them up'. I should find out why." The speaker's insouciance gave Ashley pause, frowning. What in the world...? He was moving around on the first story, occasionally slipping into her view before walking right out. Ashley couldn't see Leon but he had to be there. His suitcase was right by the bed.

Right by the bed... She turned and went back but found to her disappointment that it was locked. Well. Great. There went that plan. She shook her head and then moved over to the window, poking through the blinds. At first nothing seemed to have changed until she saw the nascent stripe of color along the horizon that was the rising sun. A smile broke out on her face that then died almost as fast. That wasn't sunrise.

No longer caring about being stealthy, Ashley snatched the suitcase, ran down the stairs and barreled straight into the arms of the stranger.

"Whoa! I see the President has equipped his daughter with ballistics, eh?"

What. Ashley pulled back and shook his hands off her, giving the leech a scowl. "Don't. I don't even have time for you. Leon, there's a welcome party about half a mile away." The irony that they'd been carrying lit torches had not been lost on her. She was struggling a little to carry the suitcase but her grip on it was tense, ready to start running again. They were trapped like rats in the house.
 
Luis was a mysterious kind of guy so Leon knew this visit wasn't as simple as that. Even though he didn't have a reason to distrust Luis, he wasn't certain he wanted to let him know Ashley was here. The Spaniard's motives weren't as crystal clear as the special agent would have liked. But when Ashley hurried down, there was no need in giving her a false identity. Leon had once showed Luis a recent picture of the girl.

Luis' comment made Leon smile inside and the Spaniard replied with a simple "Fiesty woman". Leon was quickly learning that the Spanish didn't have any tact. But his amusement ended when Ashley's demeanor was disturbed and she was carrying his attache case. Hearing her warning, Leon quickly peered through the blinds and saw countless torches.

"She's right." He took the case from Ashley's hands and put it on the table before touching his thumbprint to the scanner. The latch opened and inside was ammunition and weaponry. Leon picked up the Sig Sauer P232 and looked at Ashley "Do you know how to shoot?"

Luis was looking out the window when he said "There is no time for a lesson, my friend. Best she hide in the corner"

Leon knew there wasn't many spots for Ashley to hide, but if she had even the most basic understanding of how to use a firearm, then she would get the gun.

The special agent knew they were short on time, so he gave her the run-down. "Once you grip the gun, it actuates the laser. That laser is where the bullet will impact, aim for the head or chest. Once the pistol is out of ammo, the slide will lock back. Press this button to drop out the magazine and then slide in another one, like this. After that, press the slide release and you can begin firing again."

Leon wished he could have shown her more, but it was the best he could do. He didn't like giving a gun to anyone inexperienced, but if worse came to worse, she would have a fighting chance.

Luis pulled out his Mauser C96 which would have been best suited behind the glass case in a museum, but it was better than nothing.

As the first violent knocks hit against the doors and windows, Leon said "Ashley, you will be fine. Stay close to me no matter what and I will protect you." He handed her the shiny polished pistol as well as several extra magazines.

Leon was holding his newly acquired shotgun with his USP resting in his holster like always.
 
Men. Always deciding things for her. The blond ditz act could wear down the nerves sometimes but it got her a gun, even if she almost blanked out at hearing the instructions that included a phrase like 'actuates the laser', almost blurting out 'what laser oh my God I just wanted a normal gun' but managing to pretend she understood everything. Which she did. Just not as quickly as she would have liked.

"I'm not worried." She tried to sound confident. This was long past worry. They'd zoomed right past panic but the gun was in her hands, both of them, holding it tightly with her finger outside of the trigger. This wasn't her first rodeo holding a gun but she was accustomed to the hunting rifles that her father used, particularly when she'd been young and summer camping trips always seemed to end with a dead buck strapped to the top of their car, much to her mother's disgust. The stranger barely seemed to muffle a laugh at her declaration. She studiously ignored him.

Ashley thought they should have run. Wouldn't it be easier for them to set the house on fire and force them to come out, without even risking an all out gun fight? Nobody was listening to her, though, so she took a deep breath and with shaky fingers tucked the magazines into her bra, awkwardly, because skirts didn't have pockets. And if that leach made another unwarranted comment she was going to be sorely tempted to aim her first shot at his foot.

The door was holding up surprisingly well under the determined blows. The windows... not so much. Ashley flinched as glass shattered inwards and the bookshelves began to tip over, crashing into the floor loudly. Her gaze fell to the side and settled on the chimney. Tall column. Thin. Nothing coming down or out unless they were either Santa or an 19th century chimney sweep. But the fireplace was surprisingly large, with a wide, round entrance.

Strange people began to pour in through the broken windows; she called them strange because there was something immensely off about them Swollen features. Dirty, sallow skin. None of them had seen the inside of a bath in years. Their stench was almost as bad as the blank expressions set in rigid hatred.

Luis got off the first shot, nailing one of them in the head. Something gray and slimy burst out backwards in a spray. Ashley nearly dropped the gun in shock and then it was on, bullets all the place. Leon had told her to stay with him and she tried, right up until a thrust pitchfork nearly gored her arm when Leon dodged and pushed her to the side a hair shy of being too late. As good as his intentions were, she was a big gaping liability behind him, and she couldn't get the gun up to aim long enough to shoot without being afraid that she'd shoot Leon -- or even the perv.

Ashley made a tactical decision and dove for the mouth of the fireplace. Sooth and ash that had lain undisturbed for who knew how long flew up into the air as she squirmed inside and lodged herself in a corner at an angle where no nasty little pitchforks could easily get her and brought up the gun with both hands, back braced against rough brick. Barely two seconds later an ugly face and a portly body filled the entrance and it was a matter of physics and ratios -- she was a novice who didn't know guns, but at that distance there wasn't a single chance in hell that she'd miss.

Boom. The impact jolted back unpleasantly on her wrists but she squeezed off another shot immediately. The body swayed, seemingly uncertain whether it was dead or not, and then fell over. Ashley bit her lip and brought the gun up again, hearing all the yelling and the other shots rocking through the house. She didn't even dare reach out and kick the body away, despite the horrible face staring at her lifelessly. She did notice the eyes were too red, but it was an unconscious observation, and she was more interested in waiting for the next religious whacko to come and try to get her.

"Come on, Leon, you better survive this." She whispered to herself, not knowing what she'd do if he didn't.
 
After Luis fired the first shot, the thunder continued within the house for a long time. Even though the attackers were armed with crude weapons like pitchforks, hatchets, and sickles they had numbers on their side. None of them had the time or care to count. Leon just hoped they had more bullets than enemies.

When a pitchfork came at him and he dodged and blocked, he knew Ashley wasn't completely safe behind him. Seeing the girl run to the fireplace, he felt much better. The newly arriving villagers would see him and Luis before Ashley, so in a way she was much safer there. Plus Leon was sure to keep her within his peripherals at the least.

His shotgun was a force to be reckoned with. Every time he pulled the trigger, nine lead balls the size of marbles screamed out of the barrel. It left his enemies with massive holes in their torsos or heads completely disintegrated but it wasn't without it's flaws. Loading each shell into it took far more time than a magazine-fed weapon, so oftentimes he used the butt of the shotgun as a club. The wooden stock smashed into the faces of many of the possessed villagers before he drew his USP and unloaded precise 9mm bullets into skulls and chests.

Luis was faring well with his antique firearm and Leon was glad for that because if push came to shove, Ashley would always be the one he'd run to with his last bullets. After swinging a hard roundhouse kick to the head of a villager, Leon drew his long knife and stabbed it into the head of another before sheathing it and reloading his USP.

After what felt like an eternity of fighting, bodies had piled up heavily on the floor and they were sprinkled with brass bullet casings, empty shotgun shells, and spent magazines. The walls were peppered with holes and the air smelt of burnt gunpowder and death. Leon fired a round into the head of an enemy starting through the window when he heard a loud call outside. It was not in English but Leon hoped it meant retreat.

No more enemies came through, whoever was leading the attack must have seen it's futility because the remaining torches outside moved away.

Leon moved quickly to Ashley who was in the fireplace. "Ashley, are you ok?" He asked seeing that the polished steel handgun she held was coated with gunpowder at the muzzle. It meant she used it heavily, and for that he was glad.

Luis loaded his Mauser and smiled "It seems this cult places value on life after all."

Leon helped Ashley out of the dirty fire pit and said "They're all headed back to the woods. We should get going before they gather more numbers."

Luis slid his pistol into his belt along his back "I forgot something. You guys go on ahead."

Leon gave a confused look and said "Luis..." When the Spaniard left he turned to Ashley "I'll never get that guy."
 
By the time the thunderstorm from hell was over, Ashley was fairly certain that she'd go deaf. The ringing silence when it was finally over was almost incredibly painful in comparison. Cooped up in her hidey-hole, she had no idea what was going on except that it was just suddenly over, her knees were stained with blood and soot and she was completely certain that she was never going to sleep again without having nightmares of bloated faces and clawed hands reaching in for her.

When Leon appeared she reflexively brought the barrel of the gun up again before lowering it, relief apparent on the young woman's face. "You're alive." If she sounded far too happy about that then the world could bite her. She could have hugged him. Even the pervert. She grabbed his hand instead and pulled out from the hearth, nostrils burnt and full of ash. It was better than the metallic, sour taste of blood and gore.

Then off the Spaniard went as if out for a carefree Sunday promenade and Ashley's jaw dropped open in disbelief. "Is he crazy? What could he have possibly forgotten that's so important?" She nearly threw her hands up in the air in frustration but stopped, belatedly remembering that she was still holding a gun. Reluctantly it was offered back to Leon, since he'd probably wasted all of his shotgun ammunition during the firefight. "You have strange friends."

Her ears were still ringing one moment and thick and muffled the next. Ashley shook her head sharply, trying to shake it off even though she knew better. "Wait, I need to check something."
 
Hearing her question, Leon said "Who knows. He has an odd way of saying goodbye." Leon took back her handgun and set it on the table with all of the other weapons. He didn't mind that she wanted to check something. All the firearms needed reloading and magazines needed to be filled.

As he took care of that, he realized how much ammo they went through. He knew it was either shoot or die, but things were getting tight. Once everything was loaded, he pulled a shoulder holster out of his case and slid the loaded P232 into it. Walking to Ashley he said "Hold out your arms."

When she did, he slid the holster around her and tightened the straps so they were snug but not restricting. But he left the straps under her breasts loose so she could take care of that. He brought the female version of the holster specifically for Ashley. After the firefight, she showed she was useful with a gun and not a liability, so he had no prob elm in giving it to her.

The left side of the holster held the handgun while the right held several reloaded magazines. Ashley would be set for a while and it put him at ease knowing she would standing a fighting chance if something happened to him.

"What do you need to check out?"
 
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