GODS

AMONG INSECTS

It had happened all too fast for his liking. An ambush always held that promise but not under such unexpected terms. He had been in the market shopping for Sherry's freaking new top to replace the one she had accidentally, and it had been with all earnest, spilt all red wine down on their first 'date'. Having a dozen Javo pounce from the street and start shooting innocent civilians around him gave him enough incentive to know that they were there for him. The rage in one of their voices when a bullet had scraped his arm and oozed blood secured the fact that whoever was issuing his capture wanted him alive. Hell, after multiple times being someone's captive, he was starting to get used to it and planning his escape even before they shut the car door behind him. The chloroform cloth took him by surprise as two of them pinned him till he stilled. But now he found himself in an old tattered warehouse. His clothes clung damply to him like he had just been drenched in water, but he was pretty sure it was his own sweat as he felt the humidity hit him like a wall.

He attempted to blink the fog away from his vision but it refused to budge as he begun to squint against the distant semi-light of a lone bulb on the other side of the large room. And then that feeling of being watched had his skin crawling as he looked into the darkness on both sides. A glint of light caused his eyes to snap over at it, focusing his eyes to catch a better look but it was useless. He wrestled the binds that held him and winced as a symphony sang from the wound on his wrist.

"Show yourself Jackass. You brought me here all wrapped and ready, might as well get the show on the road." He grumbled to whoever was stood out there.

"Indeed." The silkiness in the voice chuckled. "Jake Muller. Born and raised on the streets of Edonia. What an awful upbringing you must of had at the hands of so many repulsive desperadoes. I really thought you would of amounted to more than the mercenary you've become being—"

"Wesker's son. Yeah, I've heard it all before. Sucks to be me listening to this all over again. I've heard my backstory already buddy, several times, and in case you haven't realised in that mutated mind of yours, I'm the one who lived, breathed and survived it!" He shot back, struggling again and glaring at the shadows once more. "Y'know, this is going to get a whole lot worse if you don't untie me, shades." He warned, putting two and two together and settling for having seen the glimpse of sunglasses in the dark.

"..Hmm. Maybe soon but we still have so much to talk about. The absence of your father. Years lost that can never be regained. Such a tragedy. I blame the mother-"

"Shut the fuck up. If you dare mention my mother again, this boot will be so far in your throat, you'll be coughing up boot leather for a month! So, you are going to tell me who the hell you are and what you want with me right now or I swear—" There was a deafening silence in which neither man spoke for a long time not even a breath hitched.

"You'll what?"

"Well, I'll have to take the spontaneous route, naturally. And nobody's likes spontaneity from a crazy."

"Jake. Focus on what you have just witnessed and tell me that you haven't got the slightest hunch of who stands before you. If you have the inherited the intelligence of your father it should be rather simple."

Jake glared in the general direction and quickly thought back to what the guy meant. He hadn't really witnessed much aside from being ambushed and bound in a dark room, seeming to having to spend hours being interrogated by this dickwad. He could think of better ways to spend his day but now this stranger stood before him, willing him to connect whatever dots he was failing to see.

Sunglasses.. He had heard the Chinese Javo communicate about his father about the fact that no person had ever seen the man's eyes unless death was upon them. They had spoken about him like some sort of demon that possessed red eyes and if looked into they would be slain. Having picked up only certain bits of the Chinese language, everything was vague but he definitely remembered the sunglasses conversation from his first week in the cell. He lifted his eyes back up, more softer than before and tried once more with all his will to focus on who stood in front of him.

To help his assumption, Wesker removed his glasses and lifted his eyelids, allowing the gleaming red iris's to stare passively back into his son's own bewildered orbs.

"….Dad?"