A/N: My first RE4 fanfic! Finally breaking into this fandom, because I'm bored of the others and I hope it's okay. Short chapter and will be continued. If it's too boring, oh well, I'll just keep writing.
Leon sat hunched against the solid wall, hoping to find some time to rest before he could make his way towards the church. The church's door had criss crossed markings on it, stained with dripped blood. His hand shook and he swallowed. There was only one more herb in his pocket and he had to make the most of it. Take it easy, Leon, he told himself, just run as fast as your body can take you, use the rest of the ammo, then blast away all the possessed villagers until you can pry open the door.
The mission was to get from A to B and if he couldn't do this, then he might as well go home. He snorted at the idea and raised himself slowly from his sitting position. Checking his guns, he took out his shot gun, deciding that this would be the best option as that once the villagers by the fire saw him; they'd rush at him like a slow moving stampede. He definitely needed a short vacation after this. Glancing to and fro from his vantage point, he saw the ravens circling above and from there he saw another treasure atop a branch. Alright, he'd remind himself that if he could get to the doors first, he'd make sure to return for that baby for compensation goods.
Leon pushed his damp brown bangs back, the perspiration seeping out of his forehead, and he wiped off the sweat with the back of his gloved hand, proceeding to lodge another shell inside the rifle. This is it, Leon, he told himself quietly, run like hell, pay no mind to the blood that is seeping out of your shirt from that clawed monster you shot the fuck out off earlier.
Screw it, he cursed, he's not about to take any chances so he dipped inside his pocket for that last remaining herb and started to chew on it. He bandaged his sides a bit to still the bleeding. It's a good thing these freaks aren't zombies or they'd smell the blood on him. Within moments, he felt a whole lot better. Clarity returned to his mind and his hands stopped shaking.
Pushing himself off the hidden walled area of the building, he made a run for it, keeping his eye on the sluggishly slow villagers who were instantly alerted as soon as he came into view. Leon's shotgun fired out against the onslaught of five moving persons coming at a lined angle, their bodies pushed back from the impact, sending the first victim splayed out with their guts hanging out. The rest needed a little more attention and he pumped another round, then took out the rest while walking sideways. His ears were alert now, and the sounds of their Spanish mumblings were incoherent at best. They screamed for blood and for the American gringo to be killed on the spot. Even with a few dozen villagers coming at him with axes and forks, Leon shoved them back with another shotgun shell.
Having them pushed back a little bit from the blast, an axe flew at him and barely caught his shoulder, ripped up the side of his jacket sleeve and he rushed forward to avoid more confrontation. Approaching his destination, he was caught off guard with female villager wielding a fork and knocked him off balance. Leon's quick reflexes gave him the momentum to send her on the ground by kicking her face in.
He heard shouts and screams and dragged himself in front of the door. The way was clear for only a scant few seconds and he busted it open with the steely end of his combat boots.
Before closing the door, he took aim again and shot at them, pushed them back a bit, allowing Leon to rush inside, pushing the door closed against the ambush of villagers.