Haunted
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"You're beaten. So am I.
I've got a heart of stone.
No medication can cure what has taken hold.
You're hurting. So am I…"
- Disturbed – Haunted
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Hopeless romantics say life is like a novel; humans write their stories through their actions. Rationalists say life is the result of experience, that faith in the divine is futile, for it is the human mind that shapes the world. Scientists say the world can be broken down into energy and matter, through which all things exist. And the Bible says a single divine creator constructed the world and all its inhabitants in a single week.
"'And God said, "Let there be light," and there was light. And God saw that the light was good, and He separated it from the darkness.'"
Closing the book with a soft thump, Albert Wesker gazed out the panelled window at the droplets of rain sliding down the glass. Above the warehouse, dark clouds glowered ominously, as though aware of what he planned, of the pride that drove him to this point. He was the Satan of Man, consumed with what could only be called hubris in search of what he rightly deserved: divinity; the right to write his experience.
Angry winds pushed against the walls, causing the old supports of one of Tricell's oldest facilities to groan in protest, and drops hit the windows like small stones. Far in the distance lightning forked, splitting the sky from the earth, leaving the air ionized and hot.
Wesker laid the book on a table gently and turned away from the window. Computers hummed and fell silent as they shut down, preparing for the long venture across the Atlantic and the office darkened to a perpetual blackness – interrupted infrequently by bursts of white light that last only a second – as vials and tanks switched to battery power and were loaded into wooden storage crates.
Sliding a hand into the pocket of his alligator-skin coat, he fingered a vial of the Uroboros virus and glanced at a digital clock on a paper-strewn desk. In another two hours, he'd be due for an injection. His veins pulsated with hungry anticipation.
Over the grunts of delivery men and squeal of tires on forklifts rubbing against the floor, Wesker barely heard the gentle hiss of pressurized air as the south door slid open, emitting a woman he'd come to regard as the only – dare he say it – companion (he'd be damned to call her a friend) he'd ever truly had.
He raised a glass tube over his shoulder without turning to regard her presence and stated dryly, "You may take back your bacteria sample if you wish. I shan't be needing it."
"Nothing gets by you," she replied as dryly, snatching the container and tucking it into a pouch strapped to her inner thigh.
"I'd be within my rights to have you quartered for that little gag." And she knew he was serious. "What brings you by?"
As elegant as any cat, she leapt onto his desk and crossed one knee over the other. The crimson satin of her dress slid lazily off her smooth skin, unveiling a long, pale leg. Wesker was grateful for the reflection of his favourite aviators hiding his ethereal gaze; the last thing he wanted was to give the traitorous bitch the satisfaction of playing on his instincts.
"Word on the grapevine is you're off to Africa."
He admitted with a slight nod. "Umbrella owned a testing facility there before the company went down. Between cultural tribes concerned with maintaining some degree of individuality and civil wars breaking out between various sects of natives, a little medical research will be of little notice. Who will miss a barbaric chief or guerrilla soldier? No one to say the least."
Ada Wong, fifteen years his minor, agreed with a shrug and her eyes followed the labels on the crates out the door. "So, you've given up on the Organization?"
Wesker chuckled beneath his breath and at last turned to face her. Lightning flashed, turning his shades into two headlights. Ada squinted.
"My dear, my allegiance was never to the Organization. They were merely pawns, just like everyone else. You understand, don't you? You use people too. Like...what's his name again? Leon?"
Ada tensed and Wesker's grinned tightened. He knew he'd touched a sore spot.
"You're a heartless woman, abusing him and lying to him while at the same time claiming to love the man and so much as disobeying my orders to rescue him." He saw the surprise in her eyes and added, "I have my methods."
She turned away, ashamed to appear so feeble, so...feminine, before him.
Wesker repeated the first lines of Genesis in his head once again. "Don't feel bad; it's Darwinism at its finest. Humans are simply animals. No matter how noble or considerate we pretend to be, we're only out for ourselves when it matters most."
She raised her brows. "Is that you're justification for resurrecting Umbrella?"
"Isn't that your justification for joining the Organization? You could easily give it all up, you know? I'm sure Leon would forgive you."
She dropped her shoulders and focused on the ends of her shoes. It would be so easy to do that too. To turn her back on the Organization. And he was probably right. Leon was foolish like that...Always trying to see the good in her. But she wouldn't abandon them. No matter what she tried to tell herself, Wesker was right: she was out for her own benefit, no matter who she hurt in the process.
"So now what? What happens when you resurrect Umbrella? That's if you can. The B.S.A.A. will be on your tail soon. They're becoming increasingly involved in biological weapon tracking."
Wesker grinned and for the first time, Ada noticed the masked figure standing guard nearby, as though waiting for her to make the wrong move. The intense red eyes of the steel mask sent chills down her back.
"You know what, Ada?" he asked and pushed himself off the desk. "I'm actually looking forward to their involvement. There's a certain young man with whom I have some...unfinished business."
She watched him turn slowly and somehow – though it could have been her imagination – he looked...larger. Taller and more frightening. She'd never been afraid of him before, despite what she knew he was capable of. She heard his leather gloves creak as he grabbed her chin roughly.
"Goodbye Ada," he murmured and pressed his lips against hers. There was no warmth in them – as she remembered so vividly lived in Leon's – only powerful bitterness and evil. "Perhaps, if you're strong enough, we'll see each other again. If not...well, then may God be with you."
God? She'd never heard him speak about Him before. She didn't even believe Wesker had any faith. He didn't seem the type, but as he walked away, she thought she heard him whisper,
"He's already abandoned me."
And he walked away like a shadow, disappearing into the darkness with his cloaked companion a few steps behind. Lightning flashed, thunder boomed and Ada, still as stone on the edge of the desk, couldn't help but feel an sober, almost depressing tug at her heart - though if she were asked, she'd deny any knowledge of it - having the strange feeling that she was never going to see him again. And somehow...it mattered...
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fin
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Disclaimer: All Resident Evil characters are property of Capcom.