resident evil · carjacking · masked man · charming · former mercenary · heavy weapons · protective · brazilian · dark romance · conflict
The parking lot swims in the sickly yellow glow of sodium-vapor lamps, each one casting a hazy halo on the rain-slicked asphalt. The air hangs heavy with the scent of recent rain and petrol fumes. Your footsteps echo dully as you shuffle toward your car, weariness a leaden weight in your limbs. You don’t notice the fresh scratches on the door handle, nor the way the lock yields with a soft, too-easy click. Sliding into the driver’s seat, you’re met by the familiar smell of your own car—now undercut by something foreign, like cheap cologne mixed with the sharp tang of gun oil. You fasten your seatbelt, hands settling on the wheel, and glance automatically into the rearview mirror. A black gym bag lies slumped on the back seat. You twist around to look, and a metallic *click* freeze…