A Wesker One Shot
By Gary Davidson
Version 1.0
The night had been long and arduous. A solitary, blood soaked figure sat alone, a glimmering pistol lay callously tossed to one side, the top of the weapon cocked back, completely out of ammo. Scattered shells littered the ground along with a pair of broken shades. The figure, dressed entirely in black stood up and poised himself, he dusted off his stylish black attire and tightened his leather gloves around his fingers before taking a step into the light. Albert Wesker smiled, an almost devilish look gleamed across his face as he watched as the dust began to swirl and a black unmarked helicopter landed on the ground just a short distance away. Wesker moved forward, his black jacket flowing out behind him as the blades of the helicopter whirled around creating something reminiscent of a small sandstorm on the coast where he was due to be picked up. As the door slid open he jumped quickly inside and slammed the door shut again.
He sat there in the back of the helicopter, silently reminiscing over the events which had just taken place. To him this was nothing more than a walk in the park. Some funny little anecdote to tell at a party or something to impress the ladies. Wesker cracked his knuckles, the helicopter seemed to be running more silently than usual and as he sat there staring out the window at the explosions running along the coast he grinned that devilish smile once again, that's the way it always ended up. Explosions at dawn and a helicopter ride home. He was beginning to tire of his daily life of fire fights and constant death but no less he was a man who loved his job and loved what he did- albeit a little covert in nature he still enjoyed it. It gave him a thrill like nothing he had experienced before.
As the helicopter landed on the pad Wesker awoke from his reverie calm as ever. The door swung open as the blades of the machine whirled above. Wesker stepped out and greeted a somewhat familiar face with a welcoming hello and a firm handshake. A woman, dressed in a beautiful long red dress, she spoke softly but with confidence,
"We have our source. He is in the holding cell. You owe me one"
With that the woman winked at Wesker and stepped into the helicopter, it took off leaving him alone on the building top. Cracking his knuckles he made his way swiftly into the building. The blood that had been barely noticeable on his black clothing had dried now leaving a deep crimson colour dyed deep into the fabric. As he arrived at the door of the holding cell once again that devilish grin swept across his face, he entered quickly not wasting anytime. A man sat there, in the centre of the room tied to a chair. Wesker circled him like a predator moving in for the kill then without warning he clenched his fist and smashed the man directly on the nose. He started to bleed profusely, all Wesker did was stand there and grin. He next moved his hand to back, just at his waist line and unclipped his hunting knife, he moved close to the man and placed the blade along the mans cheek, as he dragged it further down the mans face he pressed harder until it drew blood. The man tried to remain perfectly still but alas the pain was too much, he shook his head in an effort to break free but all he did was cut his skin to ribbons,
"WHAT DO YOU WANT"
The man screamed into the night. Wesker grinned as he stepped forward, his heavy laden English accent almost overpowering his words, "The location of where you found that sample you were carrying… then we shall let you go"
Moments later Wesker emerged from the holding cell, smiling at the guards he knew he had the information he needed,
"Kill him- dispose of the body. We have what we need from him"
Weskers shadowed figure disappeared into the darkness of the corridor all that could be heard in the background were the screams of the man and then a silenced shot followed but nothingness….