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The parking garage lit up as Leon pulled through the gate and crept along toward his designated spot near the back. It shouldn’t have been as dark inside given the early afternoon, but he didn’t pay it too much mind as he guided his jeep between the lines. Most of the day had been overcast and threatening rain, he was just glad to be home before the threat became reality.
He stopped the jeep and put it in park as he leaned his head against the headrest. The jeep rumbled and the lights bounced off the pale concrete of the wall back into the cab. Leon shut his eyes and rested his hands on the wheel as he sat there.
After a moment he cut the engine and sat in the darkened silence. He settled his hands on his stomach and breathed, feeling the slight rise and fall. It was something his therapist had recommended during an earlier session. While he didn’t like others to see it, he had to admit it helped relax him.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. He let out a breath and fished it out of his jeans to see Chris’s picture. A stupid smile broke out across his face as he answered.
“Redfield. Didn’t expect to hear from you today.” Leon opened the door and climbed out, going to open the trunk for the groceries.
“Well, it’s good luck, huh, Kennedy?” Chris’s voice sounded so good in Leon’s ear. Warm and bright. He missed it. “We’re sitting at the airport terminal right now.”
“Oh? You and Claire?” Leon opened the back and hooked the handle of the reusable tote over his arm.
“Yeah, though Claire’s at the gift shop buying some last minute stuff. She might have forgotten a few souvenirs.” Chris laughed and it made Leon’s chest tight.
“Sounds like your sister. She gets it from you, you know.” He closed the backdoor and locked the jeep. The stairs up to his floor at least looked well lit.
“Hey, her forgetting stuff is on her. I didn’t do anything to improve or worsen it.”
Leon snorted and started up the stairs, hearing footsteps above him. He tilted his head to see if he could see anyone on the flight above. A glimpse of a bright purple sleeve flashed against the dull metal of the rail. It looked familiar though Leon couldn’t place why.
“Yeah, bet you didn’t.” He muttered and continued to his floor, opening the door. “Did you guys have fun on vacation?”
“Oh yeah, great time. Wish you coulda come.” Chris’s voice softened.
Leon chuckled and continued down the hall toward the apartment. The door to the stairs opened behind him and he turned to see no one. He paused, shifting the bag, before he made it the last few feet to the door.
“Well, next time. It’s hell to get our schedules to line up for anything more than a few days anyways.” He pressed the phone to his shoulder as he moved the bag enough to get his key in the lock. “So you’ll be home tomorrow?” The door unlocked with a click that echoed through the hall.
“Early tomorrow.” Chris’s voice was filled with amusement. “Maybe early enough for breakfast in bed.”
Leon snorted. “Not after last time when you spilled the orange juice. My side was sticky for weeks.” The door opened and the sickly sweet smell of rot slammed into Leon hard enough he staggered. “Fuck.”
“Leon?”
Leon gripped the phone, still holding his keys, as he stared into the apartment. The curtains were drawn, hadn’t he left them open, leaving the apartment in near total darkness. He lowered the grocery bag to the floor and pulled the gun from his ankle holster. Chris breathed in his ear.
Leon whispered. “Something’s up, putting you in my pocket.”
“Call for back-” Chris started but was cut off as Leon tucked the phone into the front pocket of his jeans.
The smell was unforgettable; rotten-sweet mingled together in a sour, hot stench that burned the back of his throat. It had haunted him for almost twenty years, kept him awake, and loomed at the edges of his senses.
The floorboards at the mouth of the apartment door creaked as he slipped inside. He checked behind the door. Nothing. He tapped the light on the top of the gun, illuminating a small halo of the apartment ahead of him.
He eased inside a little more until he could shut the door. He considered locking it, but if something was inside, leaving it open might save his life.
When the door shut, a sense of cold crept in that chilled his bones and pricked against his skin. He shivered and… was that his breath? He shook his head and breathed again to see nothing, but the feeling of cold still lingered.
He shone the light forward as he crossed to the edge of the living room. To the left was the short hall that led to Leon’s bedroom. He turned to shine the light down there, noting the door was closed. The smell wafted toward him, stronger now, and from the kitchen.
He crossed the slim divide into the kitchen, putting in in front of the refrigerator.
The smell worsened and he could hear the sound of dozens of flies buzzing around the hinges. He flicked the light to see swarms of them lining the cold steel of the fridge, their little bodies writhing en masse.
“What the fuck.” Leon breathed and then spoke to the phone. “There’s something in the fridge.” Something dead.
He could hear Chris protesting as he lowered the gun and reached for the handle. Flies crawled across his fingers before he tightened his grip and yanked open the door. The harsh, white light of the bare bulb forced him to shut his eyes.
The smell of rotten flesh mingled with the bitter sting of iron, of blood. So much blood that when he opened his eyes, Leon had expected to see it weeping from his fridge.
But, the fridge was empty save for a small gift box wrapped in glittering, green paper.
He cocked his head and leaned a little closer, though wary.
There was a note taped to the top of it with a rushed script. He didn’t want to touch it, but there was an insistent kind of nagging that forced him to lift his hand.
Leon mumbled. “Chris, there’s a box in here. If it’s a bomb, I love you.”
Chris shouted something but it sounded muffled, even more than before. Leon eased his hand inside toward the box and felt as if his apartment peeled away around him until only the box and the bit of tile he stood on remained.
His fingers touched the top of the box then the side as he carefully pulled it out. It felt light and the paper shimmered in metallic sparks as he drew it closer to himself.
The smell shifted from a fresh rot to something that had been left in the sun for days. Warm, wet fluid touched his fingers as he gripped the edges of the box. Leon turned around to see his apartment had returned and placed the box on the counter. He lifted his hands to see they were clear of any fluid.
Then his eyes strayed to the top where the note was and he struggled to make out the handwriting.
May 27 th , 1990
The date sounded familiar, as if he had heard it before, though maybe not the year. But the day, he knew something was important about the day.
As he struggled to think, a headache formed behind his eyes and soon the apartment faded away again. The box sat in front of him, mocking him.
After what felt like hours, he lifted his hand to the edge and peeled back a side of the wrapping paper. It gave, tore, and he yanked the rest of it away.
Underneath was a small cooler, the kind you carried a lunch in. Or the kind organs were placed in for transplants. It was the two tone kind with a lid that slid back when you pressed two triggers at the sides. Leon moved to press them, easing back the lid.
The smell slammed into his nose again, somehow stronger than it had been even at the start. It wormed its way into his nose and down his throat, settling heavy in his lungs. Bile itched up his throat, but he forced himself to look inside.
Inside on crisp, white tissue paper was a heart.
“You promised.”
The voice startled Leon back to himself, and he jerked his head up to see Andy staring at him from the other side of the counter. Andy’s eyes were purple, sunken deep into his sockets. What little remained of his black and purple letter jacket hung off his frail frame in tatters.
Leon blinked. “Andy, I…”
Andy lifted his hands and smashed them on the counter. His fingers were hooked claws and slicked with grime and blood. He snarled, baring fangs. “You promised!”
Leon shouted back. “What did I promise?”
A hoarse, soft voice rasped at Leon’s back. “To save me.”
Leon twisted around to see Katrina standing behind him in her dirty, white dress. Her head was bowed so low he couldn’t see her face. Blood dripped from her hands and there was a deep stain running down the front of her dress. At her chest was a gaping hole, and Leon felt his own heart tighten.
He whispered. “Kat, oh God.” He moved toward her, dropping to his knees. His hands hovered over her shoulders, but did not touch. “What happened?”
“You promised, Leon.” Her voice sounded so weak, hollow.
She looked so pale, her skin mottled and… gr a y. Leon lifted his head just as Katrina did and stared into eyes he had seen so often in almost twenty years. The glazed eyes of the dead .
“Jesus.”
“You promised.” She whispered before lunging forward and sinking her teeth deep into his neck.
A ragged scream cut out of Leon’s throat as he bolted upright in bed. Hands, he could feel Katrina’s hands holding onto him as he struggled. He gripped her wrists and shoved but she had a firm hold on him. He smashed his forehead against her face.
Something warm spattered against Leon’s chest.
“Christ!” The light turned on.
Leon’s eyes opened to see Chris on his knees beside him, blood rolling down his chin into his open palms. The look of panic in Chris’s eyes left Leon feeling cold, empty.
“Wha-what happened?” Leon mumbled and touched his chest. There was blood. He shuddered. “Is this mine?” His hand went to his neck.
Chris grunted. “Mine. Fuck.” He held his hand under his nose as he shoved to his feet to head for the bathroom. “You were having a nightmare and came up swinging.”
Leon bunched the bed sheets in his hands, his heart racing. He could still feel Katrina’s teeth in his neck.
“Shit, I’m sorry.” He pushed his hands through his hair, still trembling.
Chris reappeared with a washcloth that he pressed to his nose. He settled beside Leon and wrapped his arm around Leon’s shoulders. Leon looked at the rag and watched the dingy white turn to dark red. It made him shiver and he forced his gaze away.
Chris made a soft noise and moved his arm from Leon’s shoulders to touch his hand. When Leon didn’t jerk away, Chris took his hand to hold. He began to stroke soothing circles against the knuckles.
“Was it the one with Katrina again?”
Leon stared at their hands, lifting his free one to his stomach. Slowly his breathing relaxed. He nodded after another moment, and Chris squeezed his hand.
Leon swallowed. “Her heart in a box. She and Andy…”
Chris shifted and pulled Leon into a hug, running his hand up and down Leon’s back. “It’s okay. It was just a nightmare.”
Leon stiffened in Chris’s arms but melted against him after a moment longer of resistance. He squeezed Chris, burrowing his face against his shoulder.
“Yeah, yeah. Just a nightmare.” Leon managed, squeezing his eyes shut. “We should maybe take you to the hospital.”
Chris made a soft noise but let Leon go. “I don’t think it’s broken, but it won’t hurt to check.” He stood up and paused, resting his hand on Leon’s shoulder. Leon opened his eyes to look at Chris. Chris smiled. “ It was just a nightmare, it can’t hurt you.”
Leon forced himself to match Chris’s smile as he watched him move through the bedroom for clothes. He wet his lips and let his eyes stray to the corner of the room.
He didn’t have the heart, or even the words, to tell Chris Andy was watching them from the corner of the room.