𝐌𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖’𝐒 || 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐄𝐯𝐢𝐥: 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐦
other parts are on my page <3
She didn’t look back to check if Leon was following—she just started up the stairs, one hand brushing lightly along the wall for balance. Her injured leg dragged slightly with each step, stiff and unreliable, but she forced it forward anyway. Each movement was controlled, practiced. Pain didn’t slow her down anymore. It just… existed.
Leon followed a step behind, keeping his pace slower than he normally would. He noticed the limp immediately, the way she favored one side, the way her shoulders tightened every time she put weight on it. He didn’t say anything about it. Just watched.
“Glad that FBI agent got away…” Leon said, his voice carrying lightly up the stairwell.
There was a small crackle in his earpiece before Sherry responded. “FBI?”
“Yeah. Grace Ashcroft. Victor kidnapped her.”
It was subtle barely noticeable but Leon caught it anyway.
She glanced back at him for half a second, something sharp and conflicted flickering in her expression, before she quickly looked forward again and kept moving.
“What? Why?” Sherry asked.
“I don’t know,” Leon said, stepping up onto the next landing. “But I intend to find out.”
Mina’s jaw tightened, she knew why, of-course she did. But she kept it to herself, her hands curling slightly at her sides. It wasn’t like Leon would understand her even if she tried. Not her words. Not her signs. Not any of it.
They moved down the next hallway together, the sterile lights above flickering faintly. Mina stayed ahead, navigating without hesitation, even as her leg dragged just enough to leave a faint, uneven rhythm in her steps.
Leon watched her for a moment longer than necessary. Then, once she’d turned a corner and put a bit of distance between them, he slowed slightly and tapped his comm again, lowering his voice.
“Hey, Sherry,” he muttered quietly, keeping his eyes on Mina’s back. “I need you to do me a favor.”
“There’s a kid here,” he said. “Teen. Looks… infected, but not gone. Name’s Mina.” He paused, watching as she steadied herself briefly against the wall before continuing. “I want anything you can find. Missing persons, medical records, anything that even sounds close.”
There was a short pause on the other end.
“…Leon,” Sherry said carefully, “you think she’s connected to this?”
“I think she’s been here a while,” he replied. “And I think she’s not telling me everything.”
Mina paused ahead, glancing slightly over her shoulder.
Leon straightened immediately. “I’ll keep you posted,” he added quickly, before cutting the line.
He picked up his pace again, catching up to her just as she started moving. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The tension wasn’t the same as before—it wasn’t hostile—but it wasn’t comfortable either. Mina kept a small distance between them, her movements still guarded, her shoulders slightly hunched like she expected him to grab her again.
Leon didn’t push it. “Hey,” he said after a beat, a little more casual this time. “You got any other name?” Mina didn’t answer right away.
She kept walking, her limp more noticeable now that the adrenaline from earlier had worn down. Her breathing was quieter, but still uneven, and there was a faint tremor in her hands as she moved.
After a few seconds, she stopped. Slowly, she turned to face him. Her expression was still guarded, still defensive—but there was something else there now. Hesitation. Thought.
Then she lifted her hands. Carefully, deliberately, she signed.
My name is Jung Seo-yeon.
“…Yeah,” he said after a second, scratching the side of his head. “I didn’t catch any of that.”
Mina huffed in frustration, a quiet, breathy sound. Her jaw tightened, and she tried again—this time slower. She spelled it out, letter by letter, her fingers stiff but precise.
At the same time, her lips moved faintly,ghosting the shapes of the sounds she couldn’t make.
Leon watched closely this time.
“Jung… Seo-yeon?” he said. She paused—then nodded. Leon gave a small nod back. “Alright. Mina.” He gestured forward. “Lead the way.”
Mina turned again without another word and continued down the hall.
Mina suddenly stopped, her body going rigid. Her hand shot out slightly, instinctively blocking Leon for half a second before she leaned forward, peeking carefully around the corner.
Leon followed her line of sight.
A massive, grotesque figure hunched over a corpse at the far end of the hall, its body swollen and distorted, flesh stretched unnaturally as it fed. Wet, tearing sounds echoed faintly in the confined space.
For a split second, she thought—
Relief hit just as fast as the fear. Leon didn’t hesitate. He raised his gun and fired. The creature jerked, turning toward them with a wet, guttural sound as it began forcing itself through the narrow hallway, its massive body crushing the walls as it moved. Wood splintered, metal groaned under the pressure.
“Hope I’m not next,” Leon muttered, firing again.
Mina stayed back, watching.
Her chest tightened—not with fear, but something else. Something closer to anger.
As Leon moved forward, grabbing his axe and driving it into the creature’s head, she flinched slightly at the impact. He stepped back, adjusting his stance.
“You felt that one, huh?” he said.
Mina let out a low, irritated growl.
That thing had been human.
The creature lurched again, slamming into the walls as it charged, its voice breaking through in distorted, desperate cries.
The hallway shook. Mina stumbled, her injured leg giving slightly, but she caught herself against the wall and kept moving, following Leon as he backed down the hall.
The creature forced itself toward them, squeezing through a doorway, its body contorting unnaturally.
“Whyyy? Whyyy?” it cried, its voice warping into something almost unrecognizable. Then it shrieked, “All mine!”
It dropped forward, dragging itself after them. “Mine, mine, mine, mine—”
A sharp, broken shriek tore from her throat as pain shot through her. She twisted instantly, kicking hard with her good leg, knocking its grip loose before stumbling forward into the next room.
Leon stepped in, axe already raised, driving it into the creature’s gut again and again until it finally gave out. Its body convulsed once—
Silence followed. Leon exhaled, lowering the axe slightly. “Sorry,” he muttered, “but I’m not on the menu.”
A few minutes later, she led him into another room, heading straight for a picture frame mounted on the wall. Without hesitation, she lifted it off, revealing a hidden lever behind it. She pulled it. A low mechanical sound echoed as a hidden door slid open. The noise carried.
Down the hall, distant groans answered. Zombies.
Mina didn’t wait. She slipped through the opening, Leon right behind her.
The door closed behind them, cutting off the noise. They stepped into a quieter space—cleaner. Different.
Leon glanced around, taking it in. “Thanks, Mina,” he said, already reaching for his comm.
“Pretty sure we found Victor’s private office.”
“Nice work,” Sherry responded. “Lock it up.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Leon said, moving to the computer. He started typing, trying combinations, fingers moving quickly across the keyboard.
“Bingo. I have the IP address, just give me a minute… and I’m in,” Sherry said.
Leon leaned back slightly, exhaling. “Okay, hit me.”
“Sherry, you’re killin’ me,” he added.
“I found some information about our illness,” she said. “Our symptoms confirm a T-virus infection.”
Mina had already drifted closer to the screen.
Images flickered across it—data, files, things she didn’t need to read to recognize. Her body stiffened slightly as she stared at it. Leon sighed under his breath.
He rubbed the back of his neck, then glanced toward Mina briefly before looking ahead again.
“Well, hey,” he said, tone lighter, aimed back toward the comm, “at least we’re in it together, right?”
Mina lingered near the edge of the room, watching Leon more than the screen. He moved like he’d done this a hundred times—steady, focused, already piecing things together.
Maybe she wouldn’t have anyway.
But the infection didn’t help.
It made everything sharper. Anger came faster, burned hotter, sat heavier in her chest. Even now, just watching him stand there like he belonged, like he had control, made something twist inside her.
So she turned away, Mina limped off toward the rows of drawers lining the wall, fingers dragging along the handles as she moved.
Her leg throbbed with every step, but she ignored it, pulling one drawer open, then another, searching—she wasn’t even sure for what. Something useful. Something real. Something that wasn’t him.
Behind her, Leon spoke. “Alright, what’ve we got.”
The computer screen flickered, casting pale light across the room as files began to load. Images flashed one after another—lab photos, close-ups of tissue samples, DNA sequencing, charts filled with notes that blurred together too fast to read.
“Elpis?” Leon muttered, leaning in slightly.
Her body stretched in unnatural ways, limbs elongated, skin warped and pulled tight in places where it shouldn’t be. Notes filled the margins—references to something labeled F-virus. Observations. Failures. Progress.
Mina froze for a second where she stood, her hand tightening around the edge of the drawer.
She didn’t need to look closely.
Leon’s posture shifted slightly. “Grace… what does she have to do with this?” Mina turned around slowly. In her hands was a notebook—worn, slightly bent at the corners. Familiar.
Her fingers tightened around it as she stared down at the cover. It was hers. Or… it had been.
Victor had taken it a long time ago. Said it was for “documentation.” Said it helped track her mental state. Track the effects.
Schizophrenia, he’d called it.
“Minor cases,” he’d said, like that made it better.
She stepped closer to the desk, holding the notebook against her chest for a second before setting it down in front of Leon, not looking at him.
Leon glanced over, noticing the shift in her posture first—then the notebook.
“…What’s this?” he asked, softer now.
Mina didn’t answer. She just pushed it slightly toward him. Leon opened it carefully.
The pages inside were filled with messy handwriting, uneven sketches—dark, frantic drawings of things that barely looked human anymore.
Figures with stretched limbs, hollow eyes, too many mouths. Notes scribbled in the margins, some crossed out, some repeated over and over.
Her handwriting, Leon’s expression shifted as he flipped through a few pages.
“…Kid,” he muttered quietly. Mina turned away again. Her breathing had changed. Subtle at first—but uneven. Shallow.
Her hand pressed against her stomach. Something wasn’t right. It hit her all at once.
A sharp, twisting pain deep in her gut, like something inside her was moving wrong, pushing where it shouldn’t. Her body tensed instantly, her shoulders locking as she sucked in a breath that didn’t quite fill her lungs.
Mina staggered, she barely made it two steps before dropping to her knees, one hand catching herself against the cold floor. The other clutched tightly at her stomach, fingers digging into the fabric of her shirt as another wave of pain hit—stronger this time.
A broken, strained sound tore from her throat, Leon was at her side in seconds, dropping down beside her. “Hey, hey—what’s going on?” he said, his voice sharper now, but still controlled.
Mina shook her head quickly, her breathing turning ragged. Her body curled slightly inward, like she was trying to contain it.
Then, she gagged. Her whole body jerked forward as something forced its way up her throat. She tried to hold it back—instinct, habit—but it didn’t work.
It hit the floor with a wet, sickening sound—blood, too dark to be normal, mixed with something else. Leon’s expression hardened as he leaned back slightly, eyes narrowing.
Small. Pale. Almost translucent.
“What the hell…” he muttered under his breath.
Mina coughed harshly, her body shaking as more followed—less this time, but enough to leave her gasping for air. Strings of saliva and blood clung to her lips as she pulled back slightly, her hand trembling where it pressed against the floor.
Her skin looked worse now, it was paler and the green tint more visible, like it was spreading under the surface. The veins along her neck pulsed faintly, darker than before, more pronounced.
Leon hesitated for half a second—then reached out, grabbing her shoulder to steady her before she tipped over.
“Easy,” he said, quieter now. “Don’t—don’t fight it.”
Mina let out a weak, strained sound, shaking her head slightly like she didn’t agree, like she didn’t want to accept that.
Her fingers curled weakly against the floor. Her breathing was uneven and fragile.
Leon glanced back at the screen, then at the mess on the floor, then back at her.
“…F-virus… the hell is that.” he muttered.
His grip on her shoulder tightened slightly—not rough, just grounding.
“Yeah,” he said under his breath, more serious now than he’d been this entire time. “You’re definitely part of this.”
Mina didn’t respond, she just stayed there, trembling, trying to breathe through it, one hand still clutching her stomach like she could hold herself together if she just didn’t let go.
