A/N: I own no one but my OC.......
It has been TOO long since I visited the RE Game verse! Life and its BS has been keeping me from updating anything so please, I ask, no beg, for all of your forgiveness on this one!
Before she continued, Alex gathered the bottle into her waiting grip, tipping it over to claim the remaining bit of amber gold. Her fingers drummed lightly along her opposite knee. Nervousness, anxiety, fear......All of those danced through her mind, traveling through her veins as she struggled to form the words that kept dying on her tongue.
“As I started to say,” she found her voice, thanks to the infusion of liquid will. Now her hands were losing hold, shaking, fighting to remain in control. “It happened when I was alone. I had brought home some files to sort and put in order; as a way to stay focused.”
Piers simply watched as she sunk into the couch; the haunted look settling in, robbing the light from her eyes. His stomach churned, watching her sitting there in this pathetic state. He slid in beside her, noticing she paid no heed to how close he was seated beside her.
“Alex, you don't have to say anything.”
“No,” she shook her head. “No, I need to tell you. You deserve to know, to understand it.” The lump collected in her throat as she lifted her head, meeting his inquisitive stare. “I trust you. I know, it goes against the BSAA's mission and I would be dead if they ever found out.”
Alex finished the remaining whiskey off, knowing it would not come close to quelling the dread gathering within.
Can I REALLY do this!? Would I succeed in recalling the demons held at bay for so long only to renege on her self made promise to never speak of them? Could I keep them at bay, restrain them from taking control? What if it happens?! What if I breakdown like before!? There was only one way.......
“Might want to grab the other bottle,” her voice cracked above a whisper. “I'm gonna need it.”
Piers hurried to fetch the second bottle, his eyes darting back to her then to locating his target. There it was! Alone on the counter, beckoning him to reach out and take it. It was some Scottish import and by looking at the ornate labeling not a cheap one either.
“Thanks,” she allowed him to dole out another round then quickly downed it in two gulps. This burned more than the last but dam if it didn't feel good in the same thought. “Keep that close.”
A part of him begged, screamed to refuse her such. But against his better senses, Piers slid the bottle over, just in front of her. Instead, he remained tight to her side; waiting patiently for her to speak. Alex took a deep breath then slowly exhaled, mentally preparing herself for what she was about to recall. A hand slid up and raced over the right side of her face. She felt it in her bones: the cold which had dominated her body mind and soul beginning with that night.
“I remember it was half past eight. It was a Wednesday.” Piers heard the abrupt humorless laugh. “It's funny how you remember the little things in times of duress. My tea had grown cold. It was raining. Hard....”
The tapping and stacking of papers and folders had continued unabated for 3 hours. But to Alex it had taken on the sense of 20 minutes. The only reason she knew that much time had passed was her eyes started to burn forcing her to shift her focus from the piles neatly organized about her. It was good really; occupying her mind with menial tasks such as tidying and re-structuring forms, reports, and paperwork those in the BSAA either saw as busy work or had no time to perform such duties. So, Alex happily acquired the responsibilities and always returned the messy stacks and strewn files in perfect little piles with clear labels for quick reference.
Still, it didn't whittle away the gnawing loss of being alone. After learning that Chris's former captain, Albert Wesker, had not only survived the “Mansion Incident”, but had infected himself with the T-Virus, Chris insisted she stay with Barry until he returned from locating Claire.
No, I don't want to impose on Barry. I'm able to handle my own thank you very much!
Lexi you have no idea what Wesker can do; what he is capable of doing now that he's......
“A freak,” she muttered, finishing the silent thought. Who in the HELL would intentionally inject a bioweapon into their body?! Reminded her of a comic book villain: Cooking up half baked ideas for domination over the human species even if those visions included self infliction on every imaginable level. Could be comical had it not been for the one fact: The resurrection of the presumed dead captain signaled it was only the beginning. God knows what was being dreamed up and cooked by tainted minds and hands. The mansion had been carnage enough! Then again, it shouldn't come as any level of shock given the bottomless pockets and endless resources at their whim. But it appeared as though the tide was shifting in their favor. New reports of Congress calling for investigations into the financial behemoth.
Alex just shut her eyes then shook her head. She had grown up surrounded by the multitude of products the corporation flooded into every home. She couldn't recall one person or business that wasn't under the caress of the faceless conglomerate. As a child, she had thought of the little icon as neat, cute even. The minute swirl reminded her of a peppermint or if it was the holidays, a candy cane. But the innocence vanished after the veil was ripped away after Raccoon City. Collateral fucking damage was what the city had become. Human lives!? What human lives? All swept under the expanse of payoffs and more payoffs. She HATED them all.
The rotted stench of Umbrella saturated every paper her fingers brushed. The cherry red and virgin white, when molded into the innocent guise of an umbrella, disarmed the mindless masses. Umbrella was good! Umbrellas provided shelter and security from the unforgiving elements! Umbrellas were also weapons if wielded correctly. A means to end life as much as to protect it.
Sighing, Alex knew she should call it a night. Her neck was stiffening and she could use a hot shower to soothe the screaming burn which was forming between the plates of bones along her spine. The box of disheveled papers and folders would be patiently waiting for her return in the morning. It had been about three days since she last heard from Chris. After Antarctica, Wesker had dropped off the radar. Son of a bitch was good . Though, Alex likened him to a cockroach. When the lights flipped on a roach always sought the darkness. Pity this cockroach couldn't so easily squelched with a shoe.
“Okay, okay,” she chided herself. “Get your ass in that shower and then go to bed.” She had given her word to Barry that tomorrow night she would pull away from the oh so exciting filing and join him and the girls for dinner. It would be nice though, to get out for a few hours. Kathy was practically begging her to divulge her taste buds on the chicken Alfredo her grandmother had taught her to make. Who was she to turn down home cooked Italian?
Alex didn't want to part ways with the hot steady jets but she was starting to prune and turn red in places. But, she felt renewed and bed was beckoning. With towel tight around her, Alex padded across the hall. She went to flip the switch only to be greeted with darkness.
“You gotta be kidding me!”
A phone call to the property manager would be the first thing on her list in the morning. Huffing in frustration, her attention went to the lamp on the dresser. Click....Nothing! Her hand furiously smacked the switch despite the obvious outcome.
“What the HELL is going on here?!” Now she was pissed. No light in her bedroom leaving her to stumble and shuffle through the drawers for the tiny flashlight stashed in one of them. A short curse flew from her mouth when her knee caught the sharp corner of the furnishing. One by one she scoured, a hard slam of anger her reward.
“Looking for something?” The cold accent sliced through the air.
Alex instantly froze. Her heart stammered against her ribs as her brain dispatched adrenaline into her veins. Fight or flight.
“You must be Alexandra.”
He knew her name.
Fear should've claimed her.
Through the slats of the shades the narrow neck of the baseball bat glowed from the street light just beyond the glass and plastic. Alex had one chance.
She chose fight.
Piers caught the trembling in the corner of his eye.
“He was in there.”
“Probably watching me shower,” Alex took a hard gulp which was followed with an equally ferocious shudder. No matter how much she imbibed, it always came back with a painful clarity. Perhaps it was another effect of the virus: Higher tolerance for alcohol. Every drunk's dream.
“Bastard,” Piers spat in disgust.
“You're being too kind,” Alex rebutted bitterly. Her eyes traveled to the bottle and frowned. “Damn, half way through it. All of the alcohol in the world can't and won't erase them. I tried. God knows I tried and tried,” a tear cascaded down. “Nothing I do gives me release. I don't tell Claire or Jill this. They would panic. I never told Chris either. I keep it to myself ya know? Easier that way.”
Piers leaned across, gently taking the glass tumbler from her fingers. Alex didn't object or form a protest at his act.
“Here,” he placed it on the table. Before he could say a single word, Alex's hand shot up inches from his nose.
“If you're going to start in on how I don't need booze to cope save it. I don't want to hear it.”
Her voice had dropped to a dangerous level, one that made Piers freeze in place. Her head was slow to lift but once it had, her eyes had narrowed to slits as if warning him, no daring him to do it and find out the consequences of such foolery.
“Didn't plan on it,” he softly whispered.
Alex blinked and slowly lowered her arm along with the bristled stance.
“I'm on your side Alex; I will always be on your side.”
A half smile peeked on the corner of her mouth. The pensive shoulders went lax allowing her body to further settle in. The lines which creased the edges of her eyes lightened the deeper she relaxed. Piers was disarmed by the sweet narrow smile. The sudden though subtle pressure of her leg brushing along his snapped him from any gathering daydream and to closeness between them. The light shined on the pendant dangling from her neck. It was the one he gave her back in London. How had he not noticed it?! Did she wear it all the time? Or had she started wearing it?
“That means a lot. I don't have a lot of people I can count on. But I consider you one of those people.” Alex felt a pang of strength taking hold as Piers silently cursed himself for his mental indiscretions. “I think I'm ready to continue.”
“You sure?” Alex responded with a brief but firm squeeze of his hand. He couldn't but help to reciprocate the gesture covering her hand with his other one.
“Positive,” she nodded confidently. “I can't let him control me; even in death.”
She didn't say anything when he didn't release her hand.
“Are you seriously contemplating going for that bat?”
Silence was her response.
Muscle contracted, soaking up every precious drop of fuel. Her pulse quickened, only hastening the currents of adrenaline.
Wesker jumped harder and faster.
Her back smacked against the solid wall first.
Then the back of her head collided violently with drywall and beige. The air in her lungs heaved up and out in a deep pained rush. Alex rolled to her hands and knees, struggling to regain control over her breathing. Wesker snickered at her, bat held loose in one hand.
“I'm sure Chris warned you about me?”
“Fuck you.” She rose on shaky feet. Wesker simply chuckled at her words.
Her pathetic human eyes didn't catch the sadistic grin or tongue rolling over and along parted lips. Oh how he was going to take pleasure in this.
“Such words coming out of your mouth. Perhaps you should be taught some manners.” His voice hissed on the last word sending an involuntary shudder down every nerve across her spine.
Alex steadied her body against the dresser, sliding her hand across the slick surface, praying something, anything would be there she could launch at Wesker.
“Sorry asshole, I make it a point not to get involved with psychotic, narcissistic douche bags like you.”
“Now that's not very nice.” Wesker feigned hurt. In the dark, she rolled her eyes as several fingers glided over jagged points of the ceramic trees that created the base of the snow globe. It had been a gift from parents before they died. They would understand what it was about to become. Compared to his sharper sense of sight, Alex was at a serious disadvantage. Human vision was rather limited in little to no light. Evolution had a twisted sense of humor.
With a deep grunt, Alex hurled the heavy memento from her hand and darted for the door. Shadows were cover for the Tyrant, masking the stealthy movements as he pursued his prey. Alex succeeded in getting five steps down before the violent blow of a gloved fist brought her down. One well placed punch in the center of her spine; enough to subdue but not kill her. Where his fist landed, skin burned as if rusted nails had been dipped in acid then dragged across her flesh. Alex couldn't scream; her body was in complete shock. Her eyes and jaw were squeezed so tight a few tears pricked the corners of her eyes.
“I didn't strike you that hard,” Alex could hear the mockery dripping off his lips.
COME ON!!! COME ON ALEX GET THE FUCK UP!!!! Jesus did he break my back!? A-Am I paralyzed!?
The clasp of warm leather along her left calf answered her silent fear.
“I haven't even begun to get rough.” Hot puffs of breath coated the right side of her neck and ear. The glove crushed down on her calf eliciting a pained cry from his victim. The other hand grappled the thick cotton, ripping it away from her body. An involuntary shiver raced down her spine as the cold air encased her damp naked skin.
Alex clawed her nails into the carpet then slapped against the bedpost; a pathetic attempt at keeping any leverage. Panic was slowly seeping in as her fingers slid along the polished wood then grasping air as the sensation of skin burning against fibers ignited along her torso, chest, and legs.
“What is it he sees in you? What is it about you that gets into every little part of him? Hmmm?” Wesker questioned aloud while dragging her down the hall. Alex continued fighting, hooking her fingertips on the corner of the wall before Wesker spun around and stomped the heel of his boot into the stubborn digits. A second shriek of pain played upon his ears but it wasn't enough. He needed more.
“FUCKER!” She roared in anger only to be rewarded with a sharp backhanded swing. Knuckles collided with the area below her eye, instantly stinging and swelling. “SON OF A BITCH!” This time the other side suffered the same fate. Molars slashed across the inner part of her cheek allowing trickles of crimson to sprinkle her tongue and gums.
“Again, you really should reign that tongue of yours in.”
Alex couldn't catch her breath before Wesker pounced. His hand tangled in her damp locks, snapping her head upright. His grip intensified, threatening to rip her hair from her scalp. Her back was bowing outward into a near perfect C. Her spine screamed wildly, begging for the agony to abate. Wesker grinned manically as he thrust his arm forward, slamming her head into the carpet beneath. Tears were distorting her vision or rather, what bit she had in the shadows. Her body refused to obey her mind; to move, crawl, anything to escape this monster. The pain was immense, stabbing her in the center of the forehead before spreading like fire across the top of her skull then traversing back down then along her neck. Everything went numb; a strange but welcoming numbing sensation which blissfully dulled her senses. Not even the blood trailing from her nose and over the swelling lips could be detected. Alex suspected her nose was probably broken on account of the impact.
Her body was in a state of shock.
Her mind had detached from reality, keeping her from hearing the belt sliding off the tactical pants then fitting around her wrists.
“N-No.....” her protests sounded strong in her ears but were feeble and meek. It was then it dawned on her.
Wesker had planned this.
He tossed out a line to Chris like chum in water. Bait, set, match. He knew Chris would pursue the “lead” like a bloodhound. Follow the scent until it lead to Wesker or another dead end. Trouble was, Wesker was there.
“Chris.....” she groaned painfully.
“Oh yes, Chris,” Wesker mused with unmasked venom.
The Tyrant dropped to his knees, cradling Alex's head in his lap. He watched her flinch at the light carding of his leather clad fingers through her tangled tresses. As digits became ensnared in a mat of chocolate, the grip tightened and viciously raked through it, uncaring if it compounded her suffering.
“My dear,” he leaned in closer, letting their noses touch at the tips. Wesker paused to lick his lips, as though he was tasting the fear radiating from his victim, “I have no intentions of hurting your precious Chris. At least, not yet.”
“Don't.....touch....me.....” He just chuckled at her pathetic demand.
“I'm going to do more than touch,” she shuddered at the veiled intent. “I haven't even arrived at the good part yet.”
Alex felt her senses returning starting with her legs. Fear kept them paralyzed but logic was also screaming at her. She couldn't clue him in. So, she stayed frozen, channeling her energy into the looming fight.
Wesker weighed his options carefully. He could 1) Kill Alex and leave her lifeless decaying corpse for Chris to discover upon his return or 2) Commence with what he had originally devised. Which would be produce the greatest gratification for him and maximum agony for his nemesis? While he could break her down in this shit hole of an apartment until her life was exterminated or he could prolong the suffering in a more secluded location; on his terms. Where the possibility of being interrupted was nonexistent.
The dark grin deepened across his lips as the plan changed but in a delightfully sinister direction.
Her head unceremoniously smacked the floor as Wesker shifted around. Through the narrow slits of light, Alex's eyes focused on the looming figure which now crowded overhead. Her eyes narrowed in a hopeless shot of focusing on what her attacker was doing. Perhaps, it was best her eyes couldn't or wouldn't grant that request.
“What is it,” he repeated acidly, “that he values in you?”
Burning fingers traced along her outer thighs.
Bare fingers!? On her legs?! SHIT!!!
Alex kicked with every spark of energy she could summon, striking Wesker in the chest with her knee. He fell back, briefly shocked at the assault. With hands still tightly bound, Alex rolled to her knees, leaping to her feet with the door in her line of sight. She didn't turn to see the molten amber cutting through the inky blackness. She didn't see Wesker whipping through the night in a blur of midnight.
Three steps was all she had between her and salvation.
Three steps that kept her in the embrace of the Devil.
Her body was hurled up then violently thrust into the coffee table. Her ears played the song of fragile flesh colliding with sturdy oak. Wood splintered then embedded into her lower back, missing kidney and renal artery by millimeters. Wesker cracked his knuckles one at a time as he observed his helpless captive struggle like a turtle turned on its back.
“That was foolish!”
Alex prayed someone had heard the crash and called the police. Prayed someone would come to the door and knock on it.
God wasn't listening that night.
The searing heat of his hand clamped tight around her throat, lifting up and off the scattered remains of the furnishing with ease. Alex coughed and gasp, fighting for each breath of precious air. Wesker simply squeezed more, denying her the simple biological function which was essential for her survival. Her feet were barely above the floor, cruelly brushing the soft surface with every spasm. Her arms were still bound, hampering her determined clawing at the iron grip of bone and flesh.
“Tell me Alexandra, how does it feel knowing your life is in my hands? That with one snap of my hand you'll be dead before hitting the floor? Hmmm? Come on now, don't hold back. Do speak your mind.”
Now her sight was filled with random patterns of white, red, and orange in various shapes and sizes.
Is this it? Is this the END? It IS the end.
Wesker's grin deepened further as he watched her face turn bright red to deep purple from the deprivation of oxygen. It was fun, really, hurling her to the brink like this. Her heart racing out of panic and the primitive need to remain alive.
He laughed at the involuntary reaction of her arms as they shot up, warring to liberate her body from her tormentor.
“That's it Alexandra; fight it! Fight right to the end. Hmmm......Perhaps this is part of what he sees in you.”
The raking nails were slowing in frequency as her brain slowly shut down.
“Oh we can't have you dying so soon,” his grip eased permitting air into deprived lungs and blood. The tingling and needle like sensations around her face lightened as life saving oxygen flooded her lungs. The deep cough forced more into her airway, ushering additional relief.
“Not when there is so much to do.” Chills reverberated through her soul, causing her skin to pebble not in anticipation but in absolute terror.
Alex felt her body falling, falling until it crumpled on the carpet in a weakened heap. Everything seemed to hurt. Hell, everything DID hurt. Adrenaline was waning that much was she was certain about.
Wesker took a step back, taking in the view. She wasn't emaciated but not voluptuous either. Her body possessed curves around the hips and a little in the thighs. Her upper body showed signs of definition; clearly she had been engaged in physical activity on some regular basis. Her legs were sculpted; muscle wavered hypnotically when they flexed and relaxed. Abdominal muscles were a work in process but not too bad. Glowing orbs drifted downward, committing the woman's physique to memory. Alex felt his predatory stare falling between her legs; hovering there longer than any other area.
NO! NOT GOOD! NO! NO!
Alex reached deep, calling up the reserves she didn't think existed. Her core complied and rolled her over onto her stomach, giving her leverage and hope. But it was fleeting as Wesker tackled her with lightning speed. Her face ground into the carpet a second time as his hand palmed the back of her skull. The other centered on her spine, preventing her from executing any foolhardy plan. Her head felt as though a million tiny serrated knives were being plunged then retracted with agonizingly slow movements. Alex clutched her forehead as best she could, offering little solace to herself. It hurt! Fuck it hurt! Why weren't the police coming!?
“If you are hoping those imbeciles known as the police will be arriving I hate,” she could hear the smirk in his tone, “to tell you but they won't. And as for anyone hearing your screams, no one's home.” He laughed with maniacal glee. Alex squirmed but the splinter embedded in her back cut deeper into her flesh. She did her damndest to prevent the scream building in her throat but the narrow shard pierced across the side of her right kidney.
Alex whimpered and curled into a ball, exposing the chunk as some bloodied offering. Wesker leaned over, gathering the projectile into his burning hold. His wrist snapped right then left before his bicep jerked back pulling it from it's fleshy resting place. Her shrill cry echoed off the walls, quelling the spongy slippery sounds of polished wood sliding along open skin, blood, and muscle. Now her eyes were flooded, creating anguished torrents along her cheeks and neck.
“As I said, there is so much to....do.”
Alex couldn't see his leg swing back then forward until the steel toe tip crushed her rib cage, cracking each strip of bone that was unfortunate enough to be in the line of fire. Cracking and popping saturated her ears, reminding her of her vulnerable state as her hapless form hurled across the room. Her mind couldn't catch up fast enough with the violent afflictions cast upon her body until the brass hinges were cutting into her spine. Alex felt the air being expelled from her lungs as the jagged edges of bone ripped along her lung before one snagged and stabbed the spongy organ. It burned......Wait, burning is an understatement. Dipping a rusted blade into concentrated flouric acid then stabbing her where the rib now rested was more appropriate.
“Get off me! Fucking psychotic ass bastard! Get the FUCK off me!!!!”
Her body and brain re-surged to life at the intrusion of naked flesh caressing between her legs. A fresh infusion of adrenaline numbed her nerves, channeling her will into fighting. But Wesker held the advantage, easily keeping her restrained with one hand on her wrists as the other continued stroking and fondling.
“Again with that vulgar tongue. Perhaps we should put it to some better use hmm?”
Alex spat in his face, causing him to reel back in shock but mainly anger. The hand departed her body, sweeping the disgusting glob of saliva from his face. She watched in cold terror as his eyes glowed, showing his displeasure in her defiance. She had done it. Alex had invoked the wrath of Albert Wesker.
“No more games!”
“Games!? You think this is a game?!” Alex didn't recognize her voice.
“Of course it is! You're all pawns! Pawns that I manipulate and move as I see fit.”
“Bastard!” Alex raged despite the restraints both materiel and biological.
“One by one into place until......” he closed the space between his lips and and the outer shell of her ear, tracing the inviting lobe with the tip of his tongue. Alex cringed and wrenched her head left, only inciting his arousal.
“Mmmm......that's the spirit; fight Alexandra!”
Alex used every bit of resistance that remained in her depleted broken form. Her arms lifted to the elbows before falling back to the ground. She writhed beneath his dominant silhouette, sensing the last vestiges of strength draining out. Her torso squirmed then twitched until going still. Wesker kept his grip fierce but could detect her will was finally weakening; yet her heart carried out its furious dance, acting of its own accord. The stench of copper and iron saturated the air and carpet with more being added from the gaping laceration. The walls painted in angry crimson, a “present” for Chris upon his return.
She was still alive. For now.....
“Now where were we?” He licked his lips as though he was tasting the air. “Ah yes.....”
Strong knees pressed into her inner thighs and in a show of power over her, forced them apart until his eyes fell upon the prize.
“N-n-n-n-nooooooooo,” Alex protested through the gathering tears.
“Ah begging,” Wesker cruelly snickered. “The last resort of a desperate man or should I say.....woman?”
His mouth latched to her neck, suckling on the dried blood like it was candy. He couldn't but help to moan in unbridled ecstasy as his tongue savored the stark coppery sweetness. The tiny whimpers which escaped her lips only amplified his pleasure as he lifted her hips and slammed his cock inside.
Alex could only sob uncontrollably as Wesker carried out his perverted desires on her. Her body had shut down; refused to carry on fighting. So she lay there, helpless as one had snaked between their bodies, parting her legs wider to give even more of what he wanted. The violent smacking of his hips injuring every inch of flesh they collided with. She shut her eyes, working to detach her mind from the abuses being inflicted. Anywhere would be better! But Wesker wouldn't allow it. His hand shot out, pinching her chin with thumb and index finger. The sharp pressure abruptly thrust her back to the present, to the image of Wesker naked, on top of her, and sneering as if he had achieved some great conquest. The fiery eyes brightened to blood gold, boring into her wide traumatized ones.
“I can....feel what it is that Chris likes about you. Tight, hot.......”
NO! He wasn't going to shatter the intimate memories she treasured. While Chris had used those words in love, Wesker turned them vile, invading her soul and tarnishing them. Twisting them around until her mind could only see the demonic leer burning into her vision. Alex's sobs intensified as he felt the tightening begin in his lower body. Oh no, she had to remain alive. This was just too good for one time.
“Chris.....” her voice weakly hiccuped but Chris wasn't going to save her. Her nails dug into her palms with each deep wail of agony, puncturing the skin and drawing out 10 immaculate crescents of crimson. Alex thought her body was going to be split apart with the merciless temp. Each thrust only called out a higher pained howl. She was on the road to untold sensations that Alex never though existed and Wesker was happily dragging her along the razor and thorn embedded path.
“Agh!” Her body exploded, clenching around him, coating his cock with a thick sheen. Her lower back arched then dropped in rapid fire as the orgasm tore through her. “NO!” Alex wept openly, knowing her body was reacting to the stimulation, albeit forced. But that didn't provide a grain of solace.
Wesker flung his head back victoriously as the hot viscous ropes invaded. The Tyrant was lost in a pure moment of bliss as he rode out the macabre climax. The deep guttural growls stung her hearing and burned her soul as the burning waves saturated every inch they touched, tainting her with his mark. His thrusts sped up, emptying completely into her battered body. His mind and body were awash in euphoria, unaware of the salty bitterness that streaked her face, chin, and neck. Clear trails dribbled down her nose which went ignored as Alex lay there, growing numb from inside out. She prayed, begged, beseech anyone who was listening to rescue her. Maybe this was all a nightmare; no a night terror. A nightmare so real that the mind couldn't segregate between reality and illusion.
Alex turned her head left, just as a bolt of lightning streaked across the inky blackness, casting a peculiar glow over the photo of her and Chris. Her lips quivered as the warm smile and embrace they shared seemed to be mocking both her and her predicament. She could feel the dull ache in the lower front of her body increasing turning into deep pulsations that felt like agonizing cramps, the longer she remained on the unforgiving flooring.
“That was......eventful,” Wesker whispered cruelly. “I must say Alexandra, I am highly impressed with your *ahem* endurance through all of this.”
She felt the contact of their bodies separating as Wesker rose to his feet. Her skin pebbled with the rushing chill across her sweat slick skin. Alex couldn't move. She was at the mercy of him now. If he wanted to step on her throat and crush her windpipe she wouldn't be able to stop him. Consciousness was dangling on the edge of the cliff which below was a vast precipice, waiting to swallow it whole.
The leathery caress returned, turning her blank stare to his searing one. Wesker was now dressed with hair slicked back into perfection; the feral aura had been recalled, leaving the calm calculating bastard persona in control.
“This is going to hurt you a lot more than it is me,” the thick sharp edge of the needle tore into her neck, creating the pathway for the potent sedative to race along the blue and red highways. Tendons and her collarbone protruded in response to the invasion; tightening of muscle which was an instinctive reaction. It burned where the cocktail was plunged into her body.
“Sleep well.....Dear Heart.” The last drops seeped through narrow steel, completing the first step in Wesker's plans.
Alex felt her world going dark and heavy. Chris's name was on her tongue but the thick muscle turned slimy and limp like meat as the cold hands of unconsciousness claimed her. Wesker continued to admire his handiwork, noting the improvements to the drab décor of this plain boring dwelling. The blood is definitely a nice touch. But, Chris just won't or can't appreciate the finesse that went into this homecoming gift.
“Let the games begin,” he victoriously collected the limp form into his waiting arms and casually strolled out into the deluge.