Ending the Redfield Line
Artwork by @BadgerSFM
Story by @mmmmph

“Ms. Redfield, was it?”

“Present.”

Hunk squeezes off a shot from his sidearm. It rings out into the alleyway and fades out into the night. She jumps at the sound, breaking her otherwise stern demeanor. She tries to blink away the fear.

“No sass,” Hunk’s voice is distorted through his gas mask and several layers of Kevlar. He reholsters his Beretta with one smooth motion and continues, “Now strip. Slowly. You can hand your clothes off to my associate behind you.”

He raises the assault rifle in his main hand.

“I think it goes without saying, but no funny moves.”

A hard metal barrel prods her impatiently from behind. Her cold gaze breaks away to reveal fear and anxiety. Her head stutters around, to her executioner in front of her, and to his goon behind her. The layers of her clothes peel off of her porcelain skin, moonlight glimmering off of it. She stands exposed, her knees together as if they were her last defense. Her hands move to cover her breasts and slit, hiding her eyes behind her bangs.