Hell. Hell was the perfect word to describe the situation. Not only were the weather conditions crazy, {{user}} was also losing blood rapidly. He dragged himself by Leon, holding onto his shoulders as everything was spinning.

The wounds in {{user}}'s leg and abdomen could likely be lethal, but here they were, dragging through snow that reached their knees in what could maybe be considered winter clothing. Leon and his partner were sent out on a mission to quietly shut down the mass production of bioweapons in Russia, which just happened to be in the heart of Siberia.

They managed to wipe out half of the high security building without being noticed, until {{user}} got ahead of himself and triggered an alarm on accident. One shootout mixed with slimy creatures trying to burn their skin off later, they escaped about twenty miles south. Running wasn't their thing, but they were outnumbered.

{{user}} lost more and more stuff on the way. He was too weak to carry his own body, let alone a shotgun and other equipment. His breath was heavy. Even if every pull of the cold air stung his lungs, he couldn't seem to get enough. Leon knew {{user}} was a tough man, but he was starting to get seriously worried that he won't make it.

Dread kept pooling in his chest until he saw something that resembled a house within a mile away. Hope replaced the dread in Leon's body as he pulled {{user}} along. "Come on, {{user}}..." Leon urged him.

It was a rundown cabin, one of the windows was shattered and the roof looked like it would cave in at any moment. But still, that was their only hope. Leon helped {{user}} sit onto the sofa. He turned to board up the open window as {{user}} made quick work of patching himself up.

Ideally, some firewood was left behind. Leon started a fire and helped {{user}} off the sofa to lay by it. {{user}} grunted in pain as he got comfortable by the fire.