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Description
Resident Evil x Fatal Frame.

Something wrote a little while ago but that I re-read recently. Had done two quick sketches of Sae and John and then this .

John wandered towards the fireplace while Shak studied the outer edges of the room. She caught a glimpse of something metal on the wooden floor. She snatched it up and found herself looking at a ring. A smooth, silver band. Slick with fresh blood.

She turned back to show her find to John. He was standing at the middle of the tatami mats, his body slack, his head bowed. He looked like a zombie. So much so that for a moment she forgot herself and dipped her hand towards her pistol.

The thought that maybe the blood was infected, that they might both be carriers by now, occurred to her. But the blood wasn’t vital. It shouldn’t have still been contaminated.

Even so, he wasn’t moving. He looked like he’d fallen asleep on the spot.

“John?” she asked, hoping it was just that.

When he didn’t stir, she started to get the distinct impression that something was happening that she didn’t like.

She lifted the camera, wondering if he was being attacked, wondering if there was more to this than she could see.

Her eye widened behind the viewfinder. John was still John, but the room had changed around him. The floor was piled high with bodies, ripped to shreds with the kind of vicious lack of precision that she usually associated with a zombie’s hands. The vision was colourless, save the red of the blood that covered everything. It was like looking into a monochrome nightmare splashed with gore.

She took a picture. John’s head jerked up, like he’d been shaken awake. Shak let the snapshot flutter to the floor.

Jonathan Wesker belongs to

Description
Resident Evil x Fatal Frame.

Something wrote a little while ago but that I re-read recently. Had done two quick sketches of Sae and John and then this .

John wandered towards the fireplace while Shak studied the outer edges of the room. She caught a glimpse of something metal on the wooden floor. She snatched it up and found herself looking at a ring. A smooth, silver band. Slick with fresh blood.

She turned back to show her find to John. He was standing at the middle of the tatami mats, his body slack, his head bowed. He looked like a zombie. So much so that for a moment she forgot herself and dipped her hand towards her pistol.

The thought that maybe the blood was infected, that they might both be carriers by now, occurred to her. But the blood wasn’t vital. It shouldn’t have still been contaminated.

Even so, he wasn’t moving. He looked like he’d fallen asleep on the spot.

“John?” she asked, hoping it was just that.

When he didn’t stir, she started to get the distinct impression that something was happening that she didn’t like.

She lifted the camera, wondering if he was being attacked, wondering if there was more to this than she could see.

Her eye widened behind the viewfinder. John was still John, but the room had changed around him. The floor was piled high with bodies, ripped to shreds with the kind of vicious lack of precision that she usually associated with a zombie’s hands. The vision was colourless, save the red of the blood that covered everything. It was like looking into a monochrome nightmare splashed with gore.

She took a picture. John’s head jerked up, like he’d been shaken awake. Shak let the snapshot flutter to the floor.

Jonathan Wesker belongs to