So I was reading the crap out of Resident Evil fanfictions on this site and I stumble upon one written during a hiatus by Special Agent FUNK. That fic brought to my attention the near endless possibilities of the urban legends and what not we all know of and slightly fear. So like, -NOT- if you guys like this -ADVERTISING- you should -AT- then stalk -ALL- Special Agent FUNK and see where this was first inspired lol
I was just so inspired that this came sprawling out of my head, I hope it's not complete shit. Anyway, read, review 'n' all that jazz o 3o
Chris threw the sheets off him as he flung upwards into a sitting position. The stubborn fabric coiled around his legs as he caught his breath and wiped a hand over his sweat slicked face. "Damn it Wesker..." Even now, after all the hell of the C-virus, Wesker was still at the forefront of his mind.
The laughter of the dead monstrosity echoed in the cavity of Chris' skull and he grit his teeth. Disentangling himself from the sheets, he got up, goosebumps prickling his skin as his near naked flesh hit the cool of his air conditioned apartment. The heavily muscled man slunk through the darkened room to his bathroom and pushed the door open.
The thought of turning the lights on occurred to him as he passed the threshold but he made no move to do so as he braced himself on the counter, fingers curled over the lip of the sink. "Why?" He grunted, staring holes into the figure he could hardly make out in the darkness of the mirror to be his reflection. "Will you ever leave me alone... Wesker?" This was crazy, talking to air as if it would reply.
The man was dead.
Chris himself had seen to it.
There was something inside the elder Redfield that just couldn't let his ex-captain go.
Expression hardening, Chris glared at the mirror, imagining Wesker before him. That smug smirk teasing his lips upward and those goddamned sunglasses. "Albert Wesker... How could you die?" Chris honestly couldn't believe it.
A self proclaimed god?
That man had caused his own death to become some power hungry monster.
"God damn it Wesker!" Chris' fist pounded the sink leaving a throbbing ache on the outer side of his hand, he took no notice. As if summoned, a lash of lightening and the crack of thunder startled the brunette into looking out the window as it began to pour. Chris glared at the window too, his temper flared. A chill settled in his chest as he felt the faintest of touches drawing him back to the mirror before him.
Nothing could explain what he saw.
Eyes.
Those eyes, they were his! Smoldering with hate and glowing like an ember, the slitted eyes in the mirror dug icy claws into Chris and the BSAA agent took a step back, appalled. 'There's no way! It's not real! He can't-!' The figure displayed in the mirror smirked ever so slightly as if it pleased him quite a bit to see how Chris was beginning to quake. Without thought of the consequences, Chris' fist struck out and slammed into the mirror causing a huge fracture of a crack to fissure up and down from his knuckles' point of impact.
The slit glass took the liberty of opening the bone white knuckles and red bloomed down the mirror. As if breaking a spell, the illusion before him vanished and Chris could only see the tell-tale signs of a horrified man looking back at him passed the crack in the mirror. Chris flipped the lights on at once then and stared wide eyes at his reflection.
What had just happened?
The very idea frightened him.
He was losing his mind.
Still, he wasn't some push over, with the in-take of a large breath through his mouth and long exhale from his nose, he bandaged his now injured hand and tentatively removed the blood off the mirror.
Great now he had another thing in this apartment he was going to have to pay for.
-T-
After that night, nothing had been the same.
Chris could only enjoy his waking hours as best he could but when his eyes closed, that's when the torture began once again.
At first it was only memories.
Wesker pointing out his every flaw while he stood behind his desk in the R.P.D.
Wesker pulling his gun on Chris and forcing him into the tyrant room of the Spencer estates' secret lab.
Wesker's hands wrapped harshly around his throat as they struggled in the cold of Rockfort.
Wesker monologing that he only had seven minutes to 'play' with Chris and his partner.
And then that scream, "Chriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiisss!" even in his mind, that blood-thirsty cry made Chris shiver.
Now though, now it wasn't even memories.
Wesker would just appear and they would exchange banter, walking circles as they watched the other. Tonight, tonight had to be the worst of them all. Things had become physical.
The tight suited body pressed down on him and Chris struggled further to get in a punch or a kick. Wesker would have none of that, he straddled Chris at the hips and kept the twisting arms above Chris' head with vice like hands on the struggling man's wrists. "You couldn't be happy with what you had, could you, Chris?" Wesker purred mere inches from said man's face.
Chris refused to reply this time, he needed more focus on getting out of this hold Wesker had on him. Wesker rocked slightly with his captive's struggles as his lips pulled up in a satisfied smile. "Now we can be again. I can be again. Through you." Chris froze for a moment at the mere idea, good lord he was completely insane!
His own figment was threatening to turn him into some senseless puppet, his mind a slave to a dead man. "No!" He snarled, noting how pleased Wesker seemed.
"Oh Chris... I merely jest. We both know I am only here for you." The emphasis on that last word made Chris shiver with dread. "Now I will give you exactly what you want!" Chris wasn't even sure what he wanted anymore but it looked like Wesker did.
The blond demon ground his hips against Chris' and the disgruntled agent tensed at the spike of pleasure he got from Wesker's movements. During the struggle Chris couldn't believe he had managed to stiffen, it was advanced to a full blown erection after Wesker's nudge. "What the-?" Chris grunted, putting up a fight once more, "Get the hell off of me!"
Wesker watched the man struggle beneath him,"No." The tone he used had such finality in it Chris swallowed thickly and realized he was more then likely about to find out what being molested and raped would feel like.
A smirk once again took it's seat on Wesker's face as Chris seemed to crumpled under that one word. He moved then, letting go of Chris' wrists and ripping the vest Chris had worn during his days in Africa clean off his torso, the thin fabric of his BSAA uniform shredded under the same grip. Chris thought for sure this was his moment to clock Wesker and free himself but even though the monster's hands had released him and were tearing his clothing off his body something was holding his wrists above his head.
Curiosity getting the better of him, he glanced up and cringed seeing the thick tentacles wrapped around his flesh, pinning both wrists to the ground they were laying on. 'Fuck me, of course Uroboros would be here doing his god damned dirty work!' Chris thought bitterly. As if having read the brunette's mind Wesker let out a soft chuckle of amusement but said nothing as he ground, once again, their hips together before leaning down to his enemy's chest.
Chris fought back a groan as the man teased their bodies and he shuddered as his nemesis leaned close and placed his tongue to his skin. At first it was only a taste, the long swipe up Chris' left pec, gathering the salt of the sweat on his skin. Then Wesker moved over a bit, finding the nub of a nipple and he took the liberty of giving it a harsh nip. Chris jerked, a bark of pain trapped behind his teeth.
He could feel Wesker's hands then, running up his torso along his sides, over the junction of where his armpit and shoulder were and then squeezing the muscles of his biceps as he suckled the now abused nipple. The brunette wriggled ever so slightly, wanting only to fight the tyrant on him but it felt like the more Wesker touched him the harder it became to keep mobile. While Chris struggled pitifully, Wesker took the time to slither over to the neglected of the two nipples and supply a similar treatment.
Having become distracted from Wesker's teasings, Chris mewled a soft protest this time as he felt pain thread from his poor nub. It was then Chris realized how erect he really was, as embarrassing as it was, he was getting off on this by some level.
It sickened him to think he liked this on any level but he dared not think it would come to a stop.
"So you have noticed..." Wesker's words brought Chris' eyes down on him. The blond man was looking heatedly at him, sunglasses nowhere in sight. Chris didn't know what to say, did he need to say anything? Wesker seemed to be able to read minds all of a sudden, well, his mind at least.
Releasing his hold on Chris' arms, his glove clad hands pushed him up and Wesker scooted back enough to take up a spot between Chris' thighs. "Don't- Don't you fucking touch me!" Chris finally yelled, his usual fire returning. As if giving him what he wanted, Wesker opened himself up to attack and Chris took it.
The bound man's leg twisted over his captor's shoulder and Chris planted his foot firmly on Wesker's cheek before thrusting him away. Wesker didn't come off empty handed, his grip tightening on the cloth of Chris' pants and as he went tumbling backwards, the fabric tore and nearly all that had been the area of the BSAA pants' front came off.
Chris couldn't explain it but he found it an awful time to be going commando.
The sickening crack of a skull meeting hard pavement left a tickle in Chris' stomach and he began yanking his hands at once in a full on attempt at escape.
Wesker didn't move for several moments, as if unconscious from the harsh blow but Chris knew better. This was no man, he wouldn't just go down from a little kick like that.
"You are going to regret that, Christopher." Something in the way his ex-superior spoke made Chris shrivel, oh it was so frightening.
Showing wondrous muscle control, Wesker righted himself into a sitting position once again between Chris' legs and looked down on the man before him. There was a spark of fear in Chris' eyes and Wesker could find nothing more pleasing, yes, he should be afraid...
Chris gasped, shock wracking him as Wesker took his stiff rod in his hand.
The lack of skin to skin contact felt strange against his skin but the movements along his shaft were none the less pleasurable,"Auh... Wesker, stop, no." Chris tried to push the fire sizzling in his abdomen away but Wesker seemed to correct that easily as his hand took the meat at the base and squeezed so tight Chris screamed.
The wicked hand pulled with that harsh grip until his hand came off.
Chris lay panting and shivering then, a tear danced at the rim of his eye. 'God damned sadist.' Chris cursed the man, now that it was over his cock was throbbing, it had hurt yet his body was begging for more.
Wesker did not disappoint.
One of his hands slid under the quivering male and gripped the cheek there in a tight grip making Chris whimper softly and cringe in on himself. 'Just make it stop!' He knew it wouldn't but he hoped and prayed none the less. "We have but minutes left..." Albert's voice startled Chris from his withdrawn state.
"What?" He croaked, voice raw for some reason.
Wesker leaned over him and pressed their bodies together, lips ghosting over the Adam's apple of Chris' throat. Grinding their hips together once more, Wesker tilted his head up so his lips were that much closer to his enemy's ear and whispered,"Your punishment is not yet over. Until tomorrow, Chris." The echo of his name brought Chris jerking awake into reality.
His skin was covered in sweat, the covers kicked to the foot of his bed. He lay in a similar position to his nightmare and his body ached at every spot he could remember Wesker touching him. Looking down, his left nipple was sporting a droplet of blood from Wesker's sharp bite and now he noticed the bruise lines on his wrists, as if someone had held them tightly.
'Shit.' Chris didn't understand. He didn't want to. Nothing of this made sense. The marks on his body were real. Wesker... was real.
He thrust himself off the bed and into the shower, he needed a cold shower, bad.
This is part one in a two or three part series I'm gonna do. Hope those of you that read and enjoyed are pleased with this. Always sort've wanted to portray Wesker and his sinister badassery.