GAWAFFE

Chris - RE8 Version

You didn't think anything of it when you started seeing Chris every day at the coffee shop you worked at. After all, regulars were called that for a reason.

There was an air about him that you were enamored with. Tall, dark, handsome, kinda broody. He was like the early 2000's vampire that everyone wanted to save. Except he was real.

He was too old for you though. At least you thought so. He was at least forty and you were just about to his your mid-twenties, but he seemed to like you.

At first it was flattering to have him calling you pet names like 'Doll' or 'Honey.' It felt nice to have that attraction even if you didn't necessarily reciprocate it.

For months it was like that, Chris would stop in on his way to work in the mornings, chat with you as you got his coffee. If you were slow you'd find things to do while talking to him.

Then he started coming in when you were closing. Again, not that odd. You had heard him mention something about working late a lot and thought he was wanting coffee that wasn't from a breakroom.

Except every now and then you'd catch a black SUV parked out back behind the building. It wasn't close, but at the very back behind the other shops that shared the strip mall your shop was in. No one was in it and you rationed it away as someone carpooling and leaving their car there.

Then it was showing up every time you closed. You asked others about it, but it was only when you closed that it was there. Nothing had happened, so why worry?

One night your car didn't start. You could hear it try to turn over, but it never actually did. Ready to call an uber, you heard a knock on your window. Jumping out of your skin, you looked at it wide eyed to see Chris there.

'Everything okay? I was passing by and saw you still here. Thought you guys closed over an hour ago.'

Opening your door, you stepped out with a sigh.

'Yeah, car won't start. I don't know what's wrong with it. I mean, I just had the oil changed and they never said a word to me about anything being broken or close to broken.'

'Here'll, I'll pull around and take a look, go ahead and pop the hood.'

Back inside the car, you leaned over to pop the hood. Sitting back up you saw the SUV that was always there pull up in front of you.

Something was off, but you couldn't be picky. Ubers were expensive and if Chris could get your car going then you'd deal with the weird feeling.

It took just a few minutes of Chris looking to see that your battery was dead. But how? Your headlights weren't on, there wasn't anything draining the battery. Maybe there was some corrosion on the battery. It was late and you wanted to get home, but even charging it didn't get it to start up.

'Shit. Thanks for the attempt. I'm just going to call a ride from Uber and call it a night. It's late and I'm off tomorrow so I can just deal with it then.'

'I can give you a lift. I mean, it's not a problem. Not to mention I promise not to charge you an arm and a leg.'

'Thanks, but I don't want to keep you late. You've probably got someone waiting for you.'

'I don't, but uh, like I said, not a problem.'

'Alright, just promise not to murder me.'

You had meant it as a joke to make yourself feel better, but something about his eyes didn't sit right.

'Never. I mean, I'm one of the good guys that protects people, remember?'

Leon - RE 6 Version

You had just started at the DSO when you met Leon. His reputation proceeded him and it was hard to contain the hero worship. Especially when it seemed you had caught his eye.

It wasn't much at first, he would give you tips and tricks when he happened to see you training or would spar with you when you were lacking a partner. It was normal agent business.

While you two weren't partners for any missions, you noticed he would always find you when things were slow. It was sweet really. You felt like you could trust him, like an older brother that was looking out for you.

It was common knowledge how he survived Raccoon City and had basically adopted Sherry Birkin for a bit, so to have Leon all but state out loud that he was taking you under his wing wasn't anything to be upset about.

The special attention that he paid to you felt nice and you liked it. It was probably the first time someone had taken that much interest in you as a whole and not just for sex. The fact that Leon never hit on you, but always kept things platonic helped.

He always seemed to be there when you needed him to. It was like he was watching over you always.

At work it was fine because you would take all the help you could get, but when you found yourself bumping into him more and more outside of work, that made you question your relationship a bit.

A handful of times it was at the grocery store where he'd shop along with you and take your groceries to the car for you, then there was the time you went out with high school friends and got a little too drunk.

Leon was magically there to save the day so you didn't have to try and call a cab. Granted he was a gentleman and made sure you were okay and in your home before leaving, it was still weird that you managed to find him there.

But what tipped your scale from 'happy accident' to 'something isn't right' was when you started to see Leon outside of work and outside of town. It didn't happen just once, not twice, not even three times, but four whole times in the span of two months.

You were visiting your sister in West Virginia, in a rather rural area that no one drove to but through, when you saw him at the diner. It was plain as day and while you could explain away that it was a coincidence, you just couldn't after everything else.

So, while you made pleasant conversation that day, when you returned to work, you made sure to do things out of your normal schedule. You had to be sure that your theory was right.

Every time you deviated you still saw Leon, even catching him a few times trying to act natural as he showed up around the corner you were waiting at.

'Listen, Leon, I really appreciate you as a friend and mentor, but. . .'

'But what?'

'What are you doing?'

'What do you mean?'

'You're following me everywhere. Don't lie to me, I know you are.'

'Look, I don't know what you're talking about, but I'm not following you.'

'Whatever you're doing, whether you admit to it or now, stop it. I don't like it, okay?'

That was that. You told him off and made sure that he understood you knew what he was doing. That was sure to make him stop.

Tired after a long day of training and confronting Leon, you come home to take a long, hot shower to help ease your muscles. Coming out of the bathroom, dressed in your sleep clothes, you didn't even bother with dinner. Instead, slipping into bed to pass out.

It was early morning when you felt the bed shifting. Sometimes you'd be just awake enough to move and not realize it was you, so you brushed it off, wriggling to get comfortable again.

Comfortable, you were drifting off to sleep when the unmistakable weight of an arm laid over your waist, making you freeze in place for the rest of the night.

Piers

The way Piers interacted with you made you sure that he hated you.

He was short and gave you the most simple of tasks. While some would find it a godsend to have the easiest job, you weren't exactly thrilled to have the same one over and over again while the rest of the team actually put in work.

Piers probably thought you were incompetent and had to be babysat. Despite the fact that you were the top marksman under him as well as had the fastest time of the training courses, of course you should be stuck digging a latrine and sent to get firewood when out on a mission.

At base you were ignored during meetings, put down in front of the other team members, and even made to stay late to clean the bathrooms.

It was truly the making of a shit job and had Piers been in charge the whole time you'd probably have quit.

But when Captain Redfield went rogue and let Piers take command of the squadron, you knew you would either have to finally stand up for yourself or throw in the towel. The second one wasn't an option as you'd worked your ass off to get where you were, there was no way you were giving up so easily.

When the first day of a mission came and you were all assigned your tasks, once more you were given the remedial work as the others were given guard duty, scouting, setting up the bunker area, etc.

'Captain, may I have a word with you?'

'Not now, sergeant. Do your duties first.'

'No.'

The rest of the team that could hear you gave a moment of pause as you defied your commanding officer.

'I won't tell you again, do your tasks, soldier.'

'And I said no. Not till we talk.'

One of the team stayed close, sure that a fight was about to break out, but Piers held back his temper.

'In my quarters, now.'

You didn't flinch at the snarl, instead going straight into his tent with him right behind you.

'Give me one good reason not to charge your ass with insubordination.'

'Because I'm the best damn soldier you've got and you continuously put me on shit duty. I haven't fired a gun in battle for almost six months despite the entire team being in fire fights, not to mention it seems to be only me you do this to. So is it insubordination or do you have it out for me?'

Piers was actually quiet a moment, something that was rare as he always had to be last one to say something.

'If you don't want me on your team, fucking man up and say it or act like like a damn leader use the members of your team properly instead of pissing me off and making me quit.'

In your head you were proud of yourself. You finally stood your ground and made sure that Piers knew you were drawing the line.

The unfortunate part was that it landed you on desk duty. You were being transferred from Piers team to Jill Valentine's and that meant till Captain Valentine was back from her nearly six month mission you were stuck in limbo.

Fine, whatever. Fuck Piers.

To occupy your time, you read through mission reports and logs to get up to date information. It was boring as hell, but at least you weren't digging shit holes and being held back.

You had even forgotten to be mad at Piers after the first few days. Instead, taking the reprieve and enjoying it. There was no telling when you'd get another.

It was the fourth day at your desk that you received a present.

Well, it was really just a card in an envelope.

'From Your Secret Admirer.'

Of course you would get one when you were stuck at the base. The card was simple, just a lovey dovey card with no signature. You put it in your desk and forgot about it.

The next day there was a small coffee on your desk, still warm, before you even got there. Looking around, you were suspicious of it. Not necessarily because you were paranoid, but drinking something you didn't see made or didn't make yourself was a safety precaution of yours. Even at work. Last thing you needed was to be apart of a bio attack via free coffee. So you dumped it.

It was a few more days before anything else showed up on your desk. You had put the weird gifts out of your mind till you came back from lunch to find an unmade ramen meal. Specifically your favorite. Okay, someone wanted your attention more than just a little bit. At least they didn't waste food this time.

Just the next day, the gifts went from food to more personalized items.

You received a total of about 50 gifts in the span of two weeks ranging from crystal figurines of birds, specifically your favorite the kakapo, to packages of new pens to even a brand new digital camera.

The camera made you uncomfortable because it was so expensive, over $2,000 and someone you don't even know just gave it to you. You tried to return it to the person, leaving a note to explain, but they just wrote another note insisting you keep it.

As much as you wanted to, you couldn't, but without a receipt you couldn't return it or really do anything with it. So you took it home and tucked it away for safe keeping.

When you brought it home, you began to get things there as well. Packages left on your doorstep of clothing items. Shirts mostly, sometimes hats, and one time a pair of boots you had been eyeing at a store online.

It had to be someone at work, obviously. But who? Your team was out for a mission and your former teammates never stayed in touch.

It also wasn't like you were too worried about finding out who it was. You never checked cameras or asked around, figuring you'd look crazy. Nothing violent or disgusting was given to you. So why worry?

The worry came in the third week when you noticed things in your house were missing. Things you distinctly remember placing down so you could find them again. Not only did things go missing, but things were moved. Specifically the camera.

You woke up one morning to find it sitting on the kitchen table, unpacked and ready to be used. That should have been the last straw before you said something, but it wasn't.

The last straw was when you finally caught who was leaving the gifts.

You were coming home from a late night work out and saw someone leaving something on your doorstep. They were taking their time in getting it set up right as you snuck up behind them.

'Whatcha doing there, friend?'

Pointing your flashlight at the person, you were just as shocked to see who it was as they were to see you.

'You've got to be shitting me.'

Piers stood up on your steps as you walked up to him.

'You know, I genuinely thought that someone nice was into me, but it appears that I was wrong.'

Before he could argue, you pushed past him and unlocked your door, leaving it open behind you.

'While you're here, come get all these things you gave me. I suddenly find myself not wanting them anymore.'

You didn't feel threatened, more annoyed and pissed off than anything else. Hearing him shut the front door after coming in, you grabbed a plastic garbage bag and began to collect the things you had taken home from the office.

'Look, just stop and listen. This isn't some joke or twisted prank, I swear.'

'Seems like it to me. Last time I saw you I got shipped to a different team and that was that.'

'It's because of the ethics! I can't date a soldier under my command.'

Pausing, you turned at looked at him slowly.

'Who said I wanted to date you? You treated me like shit when I was on your team. The whole 'he makes fun of you because he likes you' schtick is old and shit. So, no, Piers. I will NOT go out with you.'

'I'm sorry I acted that way, I didn't want to show you special treatment above the others just because I had feelings for you.'

'You did show me special treatment though, special shitty treatment. I'm not dating your or even want to be friends with you.'

'You don't understand, I'm in love with you!'

That. . . That was scary.

'Actually, leave. Right now. I'll get everything back to you tomorrow and I'll pay you back for the meals.'

'No, I'm not leaving. Not after everything. I need you to see and understand.'

'Piers, leave now.'

You turned away to pull your phone out of your pocket, but his strong arm was suddenly around your neck and squeezing.

'I'm sorry, I can't.'

No matter how you tried to fight back or struggle, you couldn't keep him from choking you out.

Blacked out, you came to a bit later. Still in your workout clothes, you found yourself tied down to a bed with a cloth gag tied around your mouth.

Whimpering, you pulled on the rope as you looked around. Things that had gone missing from your place, pictures of you from afar, more paraphernalia was plastered and set up around the small room. Panic gripped you as you tried to struggle free, but could only give yourself rope burn as you screamed behind the gag in faint hopes that someone would hear you.

Carlos

It was nice to have a friendly face around the neighborhood, especially one you just moved to. Having a helping hand when you moved half a continent away by yourself was a welcome relief.

'I'm Carlos, the neighbor from across the street.'

'Hi. Thanks for the help, I just moved to town and didn't realize how much work this would be on my own.'

'No problem! Just let me know if you need help around the house or anything like that. I'm a pretty good handyman. Everyone around here can vouch for that.'

You were glad he told you because not a week went by and you needed help with your kitchen sink. It wasn't draining right, but Carlos knew exactly what to do.

There was chit chat as he worked, finding out he wasn't just a guy with no life, that he was actually on leave from his super important job and could never just relax.

That was a good thing for you because despite the house having been cleared by an inspector, it seemed there was always something going wrong.

'I swear I'm not just trying to have you over all the time.'

'You say that, but I'm starting to wonder if you just like seeing me on my back.'

Carlos was a sweet guy, fun to be around, and so interesting. While he was a catch, you just weren't interested in him like that. You thought of him as a friend and hadn't thought of him in any other way.

When the house finally stopped falling apart you would still see Carlos at least once or twice every few days. He would be at the store or in his garage working on his motorcycle or just in the local area. It didn't seem weird, you both lived so close to one another.

But you noticed a slight change one day, a few months after moving in and meeting Carlos, when you mentioned to him that you had a date that night. You could have swore you saw a twitch in his eyes, but his smile stayed in place.

The date went well and you planned on seeing one another again. You were dropped off at your place and went to bed.

The next day when you tried to message your date, you were told it just wasn't what they wanted after all and they wished you good luck in life. Weird, but okay.

Grabbing a six pack of beer, you walked over to Carlos' house after work to knock on his door.

The two of you sat on his couch lamenting about dating and how much it sucked. You felt comfortable around him and you even dozed off at his place for a bit.

Waking up slightly, you heard him doing something. You weren't sure at first, but pretending to be asleep, you quickly realized that maybe Carlos wasn't that great of a guy.

While he still sat next to you, you could hear him grunt softly as he masturbated. Under his breath he'd said your name a few times.

There was no way you could keep being friends with him after that.

It was the next day when he came over to check on you to make sure you weren't upset over your date still that you confronted him about it.

He tried to play dumb even when you insisted that you knew what he did and said. Turning it around on you, he said you needed to get over yourself, that he wasn't some sicko and that maybe you should not hang out for a bit.

You knew what you had heard though, but you let him go. After all, if he was going to be like that you didn't need to tell him to leave when he was doing it himself.

A week went by and nothing was heard from Carlos. Which was fine by you. You were busy with work. That alone had you stressed and overwhelmed.

At the start of the second week, you got a letter from Carlos, letting you know he was back at work and was out of town. He was sorry for how he acted and wanted to try to be friends again once he got back.

Your gut told you to just throw the letter away, so you did. That one act was too fucking weird for you and you weren't going to let it slide.

After tossing the letter, you kept getting them. One a day. He was begging you to respond to him, to let him know that you two were friends still and that when he got home it would be okay.

You were confused because how could you write back without a proper return address. You'd tried once just to tell him to stop and your letter was 'Return to Sender'. So where the hell was Carlos, but also how the hell did he know you weren't writing back by the next day?

Your lease was only six months, as you had wanted to make sure you had an out in case your job was transferred back to your hometown. So, you told the landlord that you were not going to renew your lease and would be moving at the end of it.

You house hunted across town and found a smaller place, but it was miles away from Carlos. It was at least some distance.

The letters kept coming along with phone calls of someone just breathing. Smart enough to keep the letters, you also kept a log of the calls as well. You knew it was Carlos, but there was not real proof other than the letters and because he wasn't doing anything other than sending the letter and possibly calling you, there wasn't anything anyone could do.

While he was away, you decided to go ahead and move. This time you hired a company to do it for you so you didn't have to rely on a neighbor.

Carlos still wasn't back when you left and you were thankful for that. At least he wouldn't be making a scene as you left.

The first week at your new place was quiet. Nothing broke, there were no letters, and after a complete change of phone service to get a new phone and number, you were finally left alone.

The new neighbors were nice enough, kept to themselves and you liked it that way.

A month passed and nothing happened. Ready to move on forget about your crazy neighbor you got sloppy. You didn't look over your shoulder as much, letting your attention slip to your phone more, even forgetting to lock windows at night.

But when the letters started again, this time delivered directly into your mail slot, you were ready to move to a whole other city.

There wasn't much time to think that through as the letters escalated quickly. They went from begging to come back to calling you names and saying hateful things. The phone calls started again as well, but the second wave also had something more threatening and scary.

You came home one day to find that there were things out of place. The home was tidy and neat, easy for you to keep that way, so to find your cabinets in the kitchen ajar, the light in the bathroom on, and a suspicious looking substance on your bedsheets, you went to the police.

Of course they couldn't do anything, there was no way to tell it was Carlos. The letters were unsigned, the phone calls went to a disconnected number and the substance wasn't able to be tested. All they had was your word. At the very least you had started a paper trail, handing over the letters.

Apparently a detective named something Kennedy would be looking into it, but you didn't have any hope that Carlos would be caught until he did something drastic.

A few days after the police came by, you realized that things were not only moved but missing.

Half of your underwear was gone, but not from your dresser, from your dirty clothes hamper.

Moving wasn't an option. If he found you once, he could find you again.

What were you supposed to do?

A few glasses of wine helped you relax and unwind as you wanted to just ignore everything for a few hours. Work had finally let up, but you were still tired from the load you'd just finished.

Maybe you should just confront him, tell him that you already talked to the police. That might scare him off.

Emboldened with false alcoholic confidence, you took to your laptop to look him up on Facebook.

There he was, smiling like the ass he is.

You were about to message him when a specific photo caught your attention. Clicking on it, you felt your stomach drop.

There was Carlos, in a military-esque uniform and standing next to the detective who was working your case. Leon Kennedy knew Carlos.

You knew for sure that nothing was going to happen. Carlos was going to be free to do what he wanted and you couldn't stop him.

Upset and angry, you turned your laptop off, wanting to cry yourself to sleep. When the screen went black, you were about to close it when you noticed something in the reflection of the screen that made you freeze.

Someone was standing directly behind you.

A latex glove covered hand clamped down over your mouth before you could scream as the other arm wrapped around your torso to drag you over the couch and back into your bedroom.

Master List