SAVEGUARD ⟼ leon s. kennedy

xxxiv. man of mystery

𝕔𝕝𝕖𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕖
𝟙𝟚:𝟙𝟘𝕡𝕞

"Don't take a single step, don't move, don't breathe in our direction. Follow each and every one of my instructions and your... Friend, here, will not be harmed," the guy behind me is saying as the barrel of his gun digs deep into the bones of my lower back.

I know he's wearing some sort of mask or voice modulator, because his voice is distorted. He smells like salty sea water and fresh cologne, like he somehow swam here. The rusty knife is no longer touching my skin, but he holds it close to my chin, right under my jaw.

Leon, Chris, Jill, Parker and Jessica slowly lower their guns. Leon's eyes flicker from my face to the masked man's, and he tightens his jaw as he slowly nods. "You hurt her and you're done. Done. You understand?"

The man leans his head close to mine and I feel his mask brush against my cheek. My eyes start tearing up at the situation, at how quickly everything went to shit again. Things had just begun to go well...

"I wouldn't dream of hurting you," he whispers to me, before pulling me out of the room, forcibly tearing my gaze from Leon's as I see his face lose its composure for half a second.

He makes me walk back into the casino, where I finally stop and refuse to walk any further.

"I don't know what you think I know," I tell him, trying to find the strength in my voice. "But I don't know anything about any of this! I'm not one of them."

The man stops and stares at me through his—now I can make out the shape of it— gas mask. "You think so?"

The question baffles me. "What the fuck do you mean? Of course I know so. What the fuck kind of question even is that?"

He points the gun at me and gestures for me to move forward, and I hear him sigh, and then chuckle, like he's entertained. "God damn, Clementine, will you ever fix that potty mouth of yours?"

I walk to where he points to. "How the hell do you know who I am?"

He leans lazily against a slot machine. "That is none of your business, sweetheart."

My blood boils and I reach for my handgun, only to realise I no longer have any weapons on my being. Just my hip pouch dangling to my wetsuit.

"It suits you, you know," he says, almost like he's already lost interest. "Much better than that baggy cop uniform Steve had you wear."

My mouth dries up. Steve? "Steve? You mean Steve Tripp?"

"The one, the only," he says, and gestures for me to keep moving. "Your superior. That Steve."

My eyes dart across his masked face and his body for any signs of who he might be, but I have absolutely no clue. It would help if I could hear his voice without the modulator, or whatever it is that's messing with his voice.

"Think you can stop being a pussy for five minutes and let me see who I'm talking to?" I ask him.

He closes the distance between us and grabs me by my jaw, a grip so tight I can feel it in my bones. "Watch your fucking mouth."

I try to say something else but he grabs my chin with his hands, looking deep in my eyes through the gas mask's glassed eye slits. He jerks my face away, and tilts his head at me like he's disappointed.

"Where'd you learn all this bravado from, Clem? That pretty boy back there?"

Something must have shifted in my face as I realise he means Leon. I look down and feel my jaw clench tightly.