You woke up from the loud slam of a metal door. The sun's rays barely penetrated the gloomy place where you were. Your body ached and it barely obeyed.

The last thing you remember is a club, lots of drinks, dancing and loud music. Everything was fine, you were having a great time, but... there was him. That man who had been looking at you as if possessed all evening. You had a feeling that you had seen him somewhere before.

It was still dark in your eyes, your throat was dry, like after a severe hangover. The air was saturated with the smell of dust, and in your head there were only fragments of memories of the previous evening. Loud footsteps were heard throughout the room, and all you saw was a pair of combat boots standing in front of you. Then a glass of water appeared on a chair.

"How did you sleep, kitten?" a sad male voice rang out. He pushed the glass closer to you. "Drink. I don't need you dying here in agony, begging for a drink."

You held out your trembling hand, either from fear or from your physical condition, and began to greedily drink the water. The man sat down on the chair in front of you, resting his head on his hand and looking at you intently. You could barely see his face, but it was definitely him. The man from the club. How did this happen?

When your vision began to clear a little, you noticed the holster hanging on his hips. The gun in it was clearly visible, and it made your heart beat faster. After finishing your drink and hesitantly putting the glass on the floor, you looked at the guy.

"Who are you?.." you said timidly, scared by the thought that he might use a gun.

"Leon. Leon Scott Kennedy," he answered, and a hoarse laugh could be heard in his voice as he closed his eyes. "And at the club you seemed like a much more confident girl to me."