A/N: A teaser for my upcoming story Diamond in the Rough, a Resident Evil fic about Wesker's childhood.
Warnings: Violence, child abuse (little in this teaser, considering it's so short), spouse abuse.
Teaser for Diamond in the Rough
The small, blue-blanketed bundle squirmed in the arms of the scientist holding it while it was being examined critically. The baby was a boy, blond with blue eyes that would almost certainly change to a darker color; he was a thin baby, but healthy, perfectly so, who regarded everyone around him with a curious and skeptical eye. He didn't cry and the scientist expected he probably wouldn't for a while.
Spencer walked over and observed the child with a smile. "Wonderful," he said softly. "He's perfect. We'll call this one Albert."
The scientist stared into the analytical baby-blue eyes of Number 013 and sighed, placing the baby in the car to be taken away.
Albert sat at the table, staring down at the pristine white tablecloth, unmarred by food particles or stains. His mother sat next to him at the table, small hand clutching his even smaller one as his father ranted on the telephone with someone from his job.
He looked up, green eyes meeting the soft brown of hers, a questioning glance.
She ran a hand through the fine blond hair on top of his head, then sighed, examining her free hand. He noted that they where lily-white and fine, with long, elegant fingers, much like his.
It was perhaps the only physical resemblance he bore to either of his parents. His father had dark, hungry black eyes and black hair in a military cut, his mother with soft auburn curls cut short and pinned close to her head.
His father cleared his throat, shooting Edith a pointed glare. "Albert, go upstairs and finish your homework, then go to bed."
"Yes, sir," the boy said softly, standing and starting up the stairs. He only pretended to go to his room, instead choosing to sit at the top of the stairs so he could catch the conversation he knew they were about to have.
"You shouldn't be so hard on him," he heard Edith whisper. Feeling a stab of pity for his mother for what he knew was coming, he listened and for and was rewarded with the expected slap from Frank.
"And you'd have him grow up soft and weak!" the cold man hissed. "Edith, he's not like the other children! We have to treat him like he's different!"
"He's just a boy!" Edith shouted, making Albert jump. He'd never heard her raise her voice. "He's a child, Frank!"
Albert scrambled to his room as he heard his father coming up the stairs, splaying books across his bed and pretending to work diligently.
His father opened the door. "What are you doing?" he asked, voice chilling.
Albert glanced up, and then back down. "Homework," he said softly.
"Liar!" Frank shouted, making the small boy jump again. He cried out as his father grabbed him by the ear and dragged him to the stairs. "Stand in the corner, boy!" he roared.
The phone rang downstairs as Albert stood with his nose to the corner. He knew he'd be standing here until his father told him to move, and if he was found crying or sitting down, it would be another hour before he was allowed to go to bed.
Frank stormed downstairs to answer the phone. After a moment, the front door opened. "Edith, I'm needed at work. He's not to move until I come back."
Feeling hot tears spill down his face in spite of the threat of punishment, Albert obediently stayed in the corner. He stood for hours upon hours until, finally, his vision went black.
He woke with his father standing over him, features twisted in fury.