Invasion of the Undead | 003 |

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──❝Invasion of the Undead❞──


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As Leon and [Y/n] touched down at the White House, the imposing structure stood tall before them, bathed in the dim moonlight. The grand entrance beckoned, their mission clear: go to the Oval Room to meet the President. "After you." Leon gestured, motioning for [Y/n] to lead the way. "Such a gentleman." [Y/n] responded with a hint of seduction, her voice dripping with conviction as she took the lead, her hips swaying in a hypnotic rhythm. But as they stepped onto the hallowed grounds, an eerie silence seemed to consume the air. And in the distance, the flickering lights of the White House stuttered and then suddenly died, plunging the area into darkness. It was a moment of foreboding, an unmistakable sign of danger. "That's not good." [Y/n] whispered, her voice filled with apprehension. "Well, I guess that's one way to make sure the party doesn't go on without us." Leon let out a hearty laugh, his deep voice ringing out in the dimly lit room.

With trained precision, Leon and [Y/n] unsheathed their guns, anticipation gripping them tightly. Their eyes strained against the blackness, adjusting to the absence of light. Every sound and every breath heightened their senses further as they navigated through the darkened, labyrinthine hallways. Their footsteps were hushed, barely making a sound as they tiptoed through the darkened corridor. As they moved through the dimly lit corridors, their guns were always at the ready, trained on the shadows, their fingers hovering over the trigger, poised to react at a moment's notice. An unsettling stillness hung heavily in the air, broken only by a faint, guttural growl that clawed its way toward them. "Don't tell me..." Leon holds his breath; his heart clamors in his chest. The air was thick with the smell of decay and rot, and the occasional groan echoed through the darkness. Leon gestured for [Y/n] to proceed with caution, his hand raised in the air to signal his warning. Following the haunting sound, they came upon a ghastly sight that froze the blood in their veins.

Zombies, grotesque and deformed, hunched over a lifeless body, their twisted forms ravaged by time and decay. Their flesh was a patchwork of rot and exposed bone, mottled with deep, festering wounds. Blood-soaked clothing clung to their emaciated frames, whispering tales of previous carnage. The zombie's heads jolted violently in their direction, and their milky white eyes fixed on their prey, setting their nerves on edge. As their eyes adjusted, Leon and [Y/n] wasted no time, their training taking over. Leon's hand gripped firmly around the hilt of his trusty pistol, and [Y/n] dual-wielded her pistols with a grace that mirrored the fluidity of a dancer. In one swift motion, Leon seized a zombie by the arm, twisting it back with a sickening crack before a single shot exploded from his pistol, sending brain matter splattering across the corridor. Meanwhile, [Y/n] deftly slid over on the ground beneath a lunging zombie, rapidly firing a flurry of bullets into its body with her dual guns as it lunged over her, before crashing headlong into a window with a shattering impact. The shards of glass rained down around her as she swiftly regained her footing, sending a single bullet squarely into the zombie's head. Shards of glass littered the floor as the body fell limply to the ground, remnants of its former life as a human now reduced to a lifeless shell. 

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