@wkeup said: “you’re still alive? impressive...” / resid.ent evil vill.age, accepting.
alive.
alive. alive. what does that mean?
he has always been alive. no matter how far into hell he’s been dragged into and then dragged himself out of, no matter what god fucking awful situation he ended up in, ethan has always ended up on the other side still breathing. worse for wear, covered in blood and dirt and a combination of various monster fluids, muscles screaming for a split second of relief — but painfully, painfully alive.
it was always for something: finding mia, then finding rosemary. love has always been the strongest and most painful salve, alongside a fucking immovable stubborn streak that has been in him since he was a kid. never had he been able to direct it into something before he got married, taking his vows quite too literally. in sickness and in health, til death do us part.
if the universe did not have a sense of humour, ethan winters would have died a long time ago. but it does, and he did. a mercy he would never once relive. mold clings to anything that will feed it, endlessly resilient in the pursuit of brushing fingers with immortality. he had to stay alive for mia so the mold did exactly that. kept its host alive and spread and spread until there were no more lines between what is and what is not.
a dead man who believes he is alive can never truly die.
eyes slowly open and light stings, a hiss like a steam engine through teeth clenched far too tight. something pale blurs across his vision, almost yellow, blonde. he is tucked away in a far away corner of his body, fingers of black mold wriggling their way under his skin. there is a painful deliria when he tries to think. the blonde separates into different colours — straw, cream, pale. a girl looking down at him. rose? no, not rose. close enough for him to pretend if he truly wished. if he could move his lips, he would have laughed at that comment of hers.
still alive. ethan will always be still alive.