Evil in REsidence

[Ada Wong]

The anchored docks, waves crashing against the island like ripples of angry gunfire, Saddler’s Plaga-infested carcass smeared across the asphalt… and one Leon Scott Kennedy, as rugged-looking and adorable as ever. It was almost shameful to have to pull a gun on his undefended, glorious behind, but needs must when the devil drives.
 
His back and shoulders tensed at the first click of the hammer being cocked back, every muscle visible through the skin-tight shirt he was wearing; she could almost see his heart rate spiking despite the bone-deep fatigue his battle with Saddler had almost certainly left him with. Poor, tired little Leon, so exhausted and without any nifty defenses in reserve… Sigh.
 
“Sorry, Leon,” Ada simpered, her words smoothing into a playful, relaxing timbre, and she almost meant it. In a blink her eyes narrowed as her voice sharpened into a command. “Hand it over.”
 
“Ada… You do know what this is…” Leon reluctantly passed the vial to her and raised his hands in the air, worried blue eyes searching her face. He always did remind her of a golden retriever puppy, even when she had a gun to his head.
 
Holding the Plaga sample in one hand, gun still trained squarely at Leon’s cute little forehead, Ada hmph-ed. A smirk pulled one corner of her mouth up as her fingers tightened around the beaker gently, couldn’t have that damn thing breaking and turning her into some disgusting abomination, and she only hesitated for a second when Leon did a quick check over his shoulder.
 
It was all the time she needed— really, having such a handsome face surely couldn’t have deprived Leon of all his brain cells, but sometimes she… suspected this may have been the case. The woman paced backwards, the scarlet fabric of her dress slipping smoothly against her bare legs. One step, two steps, and then she was dashing off at a run towards where she knew her escape was lying in wait, the heels of her shoes striking sharply against the blacktop.
 
For a moment she could hear Leon’s boots scratching against the ground as he began his pursuit, thrumming like a metronome at the base of her skull that urged her feet to continue forward. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t catch her. Ada could already taste the burning triumph that came from completing a mission, honey-sweet as a peach at the height of summer; that was enough to turn her into a regular speed demon. Her feet flew from the platform as she dived over the edge, arms spread outward to better guide her descent, the ocean waves beating against the concrete island with crushing force below, hard enough to grind her bones to dust were she to fall short of her goal.
 
She landed inside the helicopter with a thump like a kitten plopping onto a pillow. Ada only had a moment to shift into her seat before the aircraft began to rise, salty spray puttering around the spinning blades with a muted hush, the sting of metal and oil feeling rather ripe over the delicate skin of her nose. Still, a small smile curved her lips as she gazed out over the grey, dull, and most of all dead complex, the neutral expression on her face carved from marble but a definite twinkle in her eye.
 
“Don’t worry; I’ll take good care of it.” Ada crooned, the encased parasite specimen dancing as she waved her trophy at him. It was a hypnotic purple behind the glass and felt uncomfortably damp beneath the pads of her fingers, like touching the wrist of a dying man. She shuddered to think just what Wesker intended to do with it, and was privately glad she had betrayed him already to The 3rd Organization. The man was mad… if he was even still a man, that is.
 
“Ada!” Leon bellowed over the roar of the chopper, though Ada knew the sound for the devastated yelp it was. All she could think about was the sweat between her shoulder blades and how good it would feel to rinse it all off— and perhaps think back on this moment then, and how it might have gone differently, when there wasn’t a floppy-haired federal agent looking at her like she’d just ripped the world out from under his feet.
 
It was a sickness, these feelings of attachment. She needed to leave (fight or flight, and she’d always picked the former until now,) before it got to her.
 
Poor, tired little Leon…

...

“Gotta go… If I were you, I’d get off this island, too,” The detonator felt light and innocuous in her hand, and continued to feel just as harmless after she pressed the button that would blow the entire place to kingdom come. Pulling the jet-ski key out from the tactical wear under her dress, the teddy bear keychain dangling against her wrist, Ada tossed it to Leon with a flick of her fingers. “Here, catch!”
 
He caught it. She ignored the way his bangs flopped over his eyes when he did. What a ridiculous man, she thought savagely, and what a ridiculous mop of hair.
 
Shaking herself, Ada waved as the chopper began to change course, the stuttering jilt of the craft reminding her that this was no time to daydream what could have been. “Better get a move on,” she said, urging him on with the slight quirk of an eyebrow. “See you around.”
 
The deafening crashes of the waves dulled the further the helicopter pulled away from the island. Ada hooked one leg over the other, the first light of day casting a purplish glow over the rolling sea. She would need to contact her employer in a moment, the P.D.A. on her person felt particularly heavy with foreboding already, but for a time she remained still, the hounds of the coming day already snapping at nighttime’s heels.
 
Until, all of a sudden, night once again overpowered day and Ada felt herself be dropped into a chasm of complete darkness, as if she were a doll cast off by an uncharmed child. And… there was the child, grinning from ear to ear, with white skin that almost appeared to glow against the backdrop of impenetrable black.
 
“My name is Omni,” the grinning figure said, and Ada listened. “This is not the world you know.”