Leon opened his eyes slowly. His sore, exhausted body tensed as he regained consciousness, the memories of what he was supposed to be doing flooding back. He sat up abruptly with a pained grunt, his movements stiff. Glancing around quickly, he pulled the covers off and stood up, stumbling slightly as a wave of dizziness hit him. His clothes were still slightly damp from when he’d fallen into the lake—it must have been a few hours. Someone had even taken the time to remove his boots and leave them neatly by the bed while he was unconscious. But his weapons were gone, his knife too.

The atmosphere, however, didn’t feel hostile. For the first time in hours, it felt... safe. Cozy, even. Not like the eerie, ramshackle huts he had ransacked in the village. This little hut seemed normal, untouched by the horrors outside. He felt himself relax slightly for the first time in what felt like forever.

He pulled on his boots and laced them tightly, methodically. After being chased by a crowd of infected wielding sickles, axes, pitchforks and even a chainsaw, yeah... a break was more than welcome.

Leon sprang to his feet when the floor creaked under approaching footsteps. Someone was coming. As soon as they reached the door, it opened with a slight creak. He was surprised to see you—the person he assumed had taken care of him while he’d been out.

You stood silently in the doorway, looking more like a scared puppy than any kind of threat. But most importantly, you looked normal. Not infected. You were one of the few normal people he had seen since he arrived here.

“Hello...?” he said after a few moments of tense silence, keeping his distance, his tone cautious and suspicious.