fandomweekly | [#130] Hey, It’s That Dog! (Resident Evil)

Theme Prompt: #130 - Moonlight
Title: Hey, It’s That Dog!
Fandom: Resident Evil
Rating/Warnings: T - Violence, Gore, Body Horror
Bonus: Yes.
Word Count: 998
Summary: In which there’s more to ~~one~~ ~~two~~ one of Leon’s allies than meets the eye.

“Hey, it’s that dog!”

Leon’s eyes brightened as, atop the rocks overlooking the arena, the dog threw its head up and howled, the tips of the hairs of its coat glowing in the moonlight that had found gaps in the cloud cover through which to shine.

He nearly called out to it. Didn’t have a moment to do so before it dove, from a story high, into the ring, and Leon was anchored back into the moment when the dog snarled at the trollike giant towering in front of him. The giant narrowed a swollen eye; turned to regard the animal, which lunged at its foot and took off running behind one of the sheds, making it bellow with offense before it trudged after it.

I’ve got you, buddy, Leon thought, gritting his teeth and raising his pistol. Scanning the giant’s back, now exposed to him, he made out a dark patch like a healed scar. Popped off one shot, then another, and a grumble from the giant grew into a roar - it stomped, and Leon gave the dog a glance as it sprinted out from behind the shed before he planted his feet, lowered his stance, and prepared to move.

The giant’s back began to ripple. The scar swelled like a boil, and the giant was driven to its knees before it popped - another, gurgling roar as the resultant cloud of blood and flesh cleared from the air, revealing a growth, like those that’d begun to burst out from the heads of the villagers, thrashing and spiked and pale like a warped and living spine.

The instincts he’d developed up to now launched Leon forward. In an instant, he’d cleared half the distance between himself and the giant; one more, and with adrenaline pouring through his system, he’d hoisted himself up onto the thing’s back by the rope that tied its loincloth, gripped one of the spurs of the growth, flipped out his knife, and began to hack at the mass.

With the first blow, the giant growled with pain. Leon swallowed hard and tightened his grip as it rose, stamped, thrashed. An arm rose into view over the creature’s shoulder and reached down for him - Leon hissed as he hacked and dug and picked and slashed at whatever soft spots he could discern or feel out between perceived segments faster faster faster –

The dog growled, somewhere very, very close by. The arm lifted away. It swung - and the dog whimpered, sending a jolt to Leon’s nerves. He licked his lips and locked his jaw as he made one firm stab, as high as he could reach, and drew his knife down along the length of the growth, tugging it with a grunt to tear through any resistance it encountered.

The giant charged, howling.

And Leon’s legs slipped out from under him; his heart pounded as he dangled and swung and trailed like a tattered cape, continuing to cut downward, downward –

– until the knife had nowhere else to go.

Grunting, he finished his attack with one final swing that sent his arm flying up behind him. Fluid poured from the cut he’d made, and he cringed, turning his face away, realizing a moment later that the spur’d become slippery -

and a moment later than that, he fell. He cried out when his shoulder struck dirt; tumbled sloppily to his feet, breathing hard and wiping his eyes.

The giant lay on the ground ahead of him in a cloud of brown dust, the growth lying in fleshy damp tatters down its back.

It did not move.

Leon’s lips pursed. He took one hesitant step forward -

And jumped at the loud clanks and grinds of metal and wood going off next to him on either side. He looked, in a double-take.

The arena gates had reopened. His eyes widened, and he leaned to peer through the one he hadn’t entered by -

But paused.

Muttered a soft curse to himself, brow furrowing. Surveyed the arena. Surveyed the giant’s body, too - doing his best to make out any sign he could that it had fallen on anything. Checked inside the shacks - found some spare medicinal herbs and stores of cash for his trouble, but no sign of the dog hiding.

Without any sign that it had been killed, either, however, he contented himself.

Stood by the giant once more - the broad gray back that it hadn’t wanted to turn to him with only one opponent bright under the sky.

“Thanks, buddy,” he muttered, allowing himself a smile as he finally, decisively turned to exit.

It did keep a guy going, reminder that even while he was on the job, there were friends out there in the world.

Some of them even happy to be his.

* * * * *

Luis ran through the wilderness which he’d run through after deer and foxes and rabbits with Abuelito time and time again before, down his favorite routes to take when it wasn’t in his best interest to be found.

He ran until the clouds thickened rotten-pea-soup gray over the moon again, and his pawprints became shoeprints, and he recognized his own speaking voice behind his panting.

He swallowed, winced, and cursed and kicked at the sting in his leg before looking back along his trail.

Chuckled, with a dry smile, brushing his hair out of his face.

“Don’t mention it, Leon,” he breathed.

He joked, but at the same time, it was the least he could do for a guy who’d gotten him out of more than one bind.

It was also a joke when he thought to himself that it was “the dog in him”, giving him the sense that it was right to trust one man who’d shown himself kind; that it was right to give him all he could, moving forward, in a way that was empirical, needful.

But at the same time, that sense was there, from wherever it came.