Janus | Leon S. Kennedy x Reader
STANO: Log #1
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Summary:
January 30th, 1998. Eight months before everything would be revealed. Eight months ago, you slipped upโyou delved too deeply into matters that did not concern you. Perhaps you never should have become interested in hacking, never should have become interested in discovering government secrets and connections they barely bothered to conceale.
STANO: Log #1
Subject: [REDACTED] Location: [REDACTED], California Date: January 30, 1998, 23:47
[SURVEILLANCE BEGINS]
Subject is seated at computer terminal, unaware of monitoring...
The room around you was dark, lit only by your computer. The PC cast rainbow colors across the small space as you sat in complete silence. Your hands covered your mouth, trembling. In front of you lay documents that could change the lives of many people. Maybe hundreds, maybe thousands, maybe even millions. But you had no idea what to do as the light settled on your skin, the only anchor keeping you from spiraling about what you had stumbled upon.
At first, hacking was just a hobby. Something to pass the time, something to make you feel like a crucial character in a piece of media. But now here you were, staring at government secrets.
It happened only moments ago.
The B.W.P. folder sat in the government directory, barely protected. You told yourself you'd just take a quick lookโdocument the security hole, report it, get paid.
But then you saw the subfolder labeled G.V.
And you clicked.
Unlike before, where you'd report holes immediately, curiosity took over. You decided to inspect the folder more closely.
Part of you wished you hadn't. I mean, curiosity does kill the cat, doesn't it?
Your hands shook with excitement over what might be revealed as you verified your proxy was working, ensuring no trace of your presence could be documented and used against you. Your eyes glimmered in the blue light, darting from folder to folderโB.W.P. to U.O. to G.V.
G.V.โthe start of your struggles.
You clicked on it frantically, shaking with adrenaline. But now you shook with fear.
Inside the folder you found various subsections, one labeled G.V., or G-Virus. Numerous photos showed mutilated rats and horribly bloody scenes. Decapitated individuals. People with half their heads missing, exposing the contentsโhuman matter. Your heart dropped. Nausea twisted your stomach. But you couldn't stop looking.
Now you stared at videos of a scientist.
"Experiment test #428. Our last test subject was unable to properly acclimate to the G-Virus and exploded everywhere. It was a tough mess to clean up but," the scientistโcompletely covered, only his voice identifiableโlaughed, "hey, that's how life goes. We have our ups and downs."
The scientist next to him with a clipboard did not smile, nor speak. She wore no face mask, revealing her fiery red hair and emerald green eyes. A face you'd see and never forget.
You'd remember that face. You knew you would. Something about her cold expression, the way she didn't react to the subject's screamsโit was worse than the laughing scientist. At least he showed human cruelty.
She was something else entirely.
But the scene that unraveled was also one you would never forget, no matter how hard you tried to scrub that memory from your head.
The person they experimented on looked young, maybe 17 going on 18. They injected the subject while they thrashed back and forth, foaming at the mouth with fear and tears. The victim sat bound to a worn chair, the walls around them splattered with blood and what appeared to be flesh. Perhaps their ownโhow could they possibly experiment in a contaminated environment?
When they injected the subject, the convulsing stopped. They stopped. Nothing happened. Nothing...
...
..
.
The subject's skin split open. White fleshโwet, wrong, aliveโerupted from the tears. The sound was organic, like tearing meat. The thing that used to be a person convulsed, bones cracking as they reformed. Teeth burst through gums, too many, too sharp, piercing lips and cheeks from the inside.
It turned its head toward the scientist.
It lunged.
The video stopped.
Goosebumps crawled across your skin. You'd found something you weren't supposed to. Something the government knew about yet did nothing to stop. I mean, they had a folder about this companyโUmbrellaโand the threats they caused, but they did nothing. Perhaps because it could benefit them?
Suddenly your computer beeped. A Windows message popped up on the bottom right of your screen, white text penetrating the dark background of the paused video.
"Proxy server isn't responding"
Your heart began to race. Your fingers scrambled to close the window before anyone monitoring this sector could spot you online. The mouse hovered over the disconnect button. Just as you clickedโ
Your computer turned off.
The room, once lit by your screen, plunged into darkness. Perhaps it was paranoia, but now everything sounded loud, everything sounded wrong. Movement in the closet. A knock on the door. Or maybe just your imagination.
You held your breath, waiting for something to happen. Minutes passed. You found yourself in the clear. Your eyes never left the screen.
But just as you released a breath you didn't know you'd been holding, the screen lit up once again.
Your mouse moved by itself. It opened your notes app and began typing.
"Hello. We know where you are." It typed slowly.
Then another Windows notification popped upโyour location was now being shared. You bit back a scream as you tried moving the mouse to turn off anything else that could incriminate you. Your hand flew to the power button, but no matter how hard you pressed, it wouldn't turn off. You slammed your desk in frustration, then peered at your open window. What if they were already here?
You ran to the curtains and yanked them shut. A car sat in the distance.
Could it be them?
You glanced at the desk, sat down once more, hoping nothing would come of this.
Suddenly your face glowed green a small
Beep
could be heard.
Your eyes darted to your webcam.
It was on.
Your notes app pulled up again:
"You're not supposed to be here. But you are.
We're coming."
You launched upward, yanking the power cord from the wall. You knew nothing you did now with the computer could save you. You'd messed up the second your proxy went down.
You grabbed your car keys and stuffed essentials into a small duffel bag you'd bought a while back. A flashlight. Food that wouldn't spoil. Water.
And a gun.
'No no no, this wasn't supposed to happen!' You screamed internally, shaking as you ran downstairs. Your car waited just outside your apartment in a dimly lit area.ย
The cold night air entered your senses as you fumbled with your cold metal car keys.
CLICK.
They dropped. The metallic clatter obscenely loud in the quiet parking lot.
You peered to your left. Something stood by the lamp post. Too tall. Wrong proportions. Its eyes caught the lightโreflective, animal. For a heartbeat, you locked eyes with it. Then it moved, disappearing into the shadows faster than anything human should.
You slammed the car door open, shoved your bag into the passenger seat, and started the engine.
You threw your phone out the window. Ran it over. Grabbed the laptop from your carโthe only device they hadn't touchedโand shoved it in the Faraday pouch.
The tablet and desktop were compromised. You'd left them in your apartment.
Let them find nothing but ghosts.
The laptop held everything. Photos. Messages. Your entire life before this.
Stupid to keep it. Dangerous.
You shoved it into the Faraday pouch anyway.
You shifted into drive, your breath coming in short gasps.
You'd made a terrible mistake.
And now you'd spend the rest of your life paying for it.
You disappeared into the night.
[LOG #1 CONCLUDED]
SUBJECT STATUS: Compromised. Identity confirmed. SUBJECT NAME: [REDACTED] KNOWN ASSOCIATES: Brother [REDACTED], currently under surveillance THREAT LEVEL: Maximum PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Intelligent, resourceful, predictable emotional attachment to family RECOMMENDATION: Use brother as leverage if direct extraction fails DISPATCH: Field team en route. ETA: 38 minutes. AUTHORIZED BY: [REDACTED] Next surveillance window: 72 hours Subject's apartment has been secured. Personal effects catalogued. Brother has been flagged. Subject will not evade capture.
AYYY AYYYY firts chapter what do we think
