RESIDENT EVIL

SPENCER'S LEGACY

The events of this story is unconfirmed speculation on an unconfirmed set of events, spun to a tale that crosses into the canonical fiction. It takes place before and after the Mansion and Raccoon City Incidents in the place of Alex Wesker, the fabled Project Lead of the Wesker Project, the powerful program that was used to give Albert Wesker his immense, inhuman abilities. The Prelude contains events that traverse from the current story and far ahead into the planned sequel, Falling S.T.A.R.S.

I do not own the rights to the Resident Evil series, which includes its characters, plot, or brand; which are rightfully owned by Capcom.

Enjoy.

PRELUDE

August 15th, 2006

Spencer Estate, Europe

The window spider-webbed with cracks before it caved in on itself; the Gothic Lolita splitting to glass shrapnel as the night air, cold as death, slipped past my clothing, my gear, as it stabbed at my skin with a thousand daggers of ice. My fingers coiled around his abdomen, glove in glove behind his back as my cheek slammed to his rib. I felt my ponytail thrash aside as gravity took hold over the descent, my eyes open to experience their last.

He looked surprised, but to my own surprise, neither of us were screaming. I had him in my hands, and although we would fall into the ground broke us both, his expression wasn't of terror or fear. He, truly, looked surprised, but not in one of shock or realization of his demise, but one an expression that unnerved me. He was impressed. The fall would be long, he must have known, as his lips parted, voice low and rolled, like a purr from an animal. I despised the sound as much as I despised being this close to him.

"Always the bold one, " He stated. "And always the fool, Jill." I tightened my grasp on him as I grit my teeth.

"If a fool can kill a king..."

He grinned at that, his arms notched as he kept up straight, guiding the descent without struggling. His eyes, a cats-eye in crimson, burned through his sunglasses as he turned his neck back, measuring the distance. The open-roofed cave shouldering the castle far below gleaned back. My stomach churned as the thoughts of death were already striking me, but it was already too late to weasel out now. Wesker would perish, but so would I. Not the way I had planned my end to be, but I was beyond planning now.

"JILL!" Chris screamed from far above. I'd made my choice and he was breathing from it. I wouldn't regret what I'd done, not even on whatever side of the afterlife greeted me. If there was one, after all. I'd find out, soon enough.

Wesker's eyes turned back to me, the air becoming a blizzard across my nerves as my eyes met the ground, one of the many times it did, as it only seemed to become larger and larger. I hated to even ponder it, but Wesker was a man once, as unbelievable as it was. I turned my gaze up to him, my hat flopping from my head and away into the breeze as I kept my grip like irons around him.

"Even a bastard like you has to have regrets," I pushed, Wesker scoffing in laughter. "Last words?" He never betrayed that dark, malicious curve of his lips as his hand snapped forward, leather fingers coiling around my throat as I gasped in surprise. I tightened my arms around him, as if to squeeze the air from his body, as he tried to squeeze the air from mine. I could feel the weight of the world tugging at me, the fall nearly over. And still, he grinned.

"My greatest regret?" The jaguar murmured, his head coming closer to mine as I wrenched about, my grip loosening as he steered me back without much effort, my fingers losing themselves and clawing at the celled-material of his coat. His grin had finally evaporated, but his composure did not. His crimson eyes, malevolent and merciless, stared deep into mine with a savage glow, the ground mere seconds away. His lips parted, but the words were broken, lost in translation as my mouth dropped in surprise, brow raising as I couldn't understand. I could feel my grip tighten around his wrist, but lacking the strength to pull free.

"Letting you live." He had said, before the floor greeted me in its own manner.

Pain. Sharp, mind numbing, as it burned over my back instantly; no delay to allow my brain a moment to recognize the impact. Only pain. The collision knocked the air from my chest, my sight in stars and blotches of black and white as each gasp sent my spine aflame, betraying me need for air as I writhed.

Then, darkness. The pain didn't fade with my sight, only making the agony worse. What was I to do? I couldn't feel my leg and moving myself would only make it worse.

Then, light. A flicker to the sky as rain peppered my skin in tears of frost. The hole in the cave cast a dim moonlight upon me as I gasped in surprise. Good, I thought to myself. I'm not dead! The pain made a groan of agony slip from my throat, unable to move. Not dead yet, thankfully. I began to wretch, coughing heavily as red lifeline left my lips. The castle far above seemed serene, if not caught within the claps of light as electricity arced in the clouds as a blot of shadow fell from the tallest tower of the Spencer Estate. Chris screamed my name no longer, the window vacant of all but splinters of glass as the echo seemed to call to me.

Chris. My heart fluttered as it pumped blood to the wounds I couldn't even recognize, the memories slipping by in pulses, words becoming voices as the experiences converted to dreams. I felt my eyes roll back as I doubled over, my effort to stand crumbling as the pain clawed its way back in, wrenching my control as I tumbled. It was-

The Beretta in my hands bit into my palms, cutting through the leather of my gloves as I strangled the handle in absolute terror. I watched as Richard shrieked and screamed before the decaying hounds had begun their feast. My hands were trembling as my eyes were wide, my index finger slamming the trigger to receive only a hopeless click, the smoke steaming from the barrel as the clip had run dry. I pulled several more times, to a persistent click, before I even recognized that it was empty.

Then, the dogs turned toward me and snarled, unsatisfied in their meal as they looked for more of a morsel within myself. I tried to turn and run, but my eyes were trapped on the scene, my legs heavy as I could do no more than inch back. I jostled in pain as I fell back, a rock biting at my boot as I tripped back, grass meeting my unprotected arms as the dogs showed their teeth to me. The hound spearheading the pack reared for a moment, before pouncing at me and-

Bang. Loud, fast, and deafening. The gunfire snapped myself back to reality as the dog sailed past me, a spray of blood on my cheeks as I looked on, stunned at how quickly things had escalated. "Come on!" a voice called, seizing me by the arm. I turned, eyes searching the face of-

Chris. Chris Redfield. S.T.A.R.S. Alpha Team. His youthful face was serious and in the moment, pistol in hand, still steaming from the recent shot as he looked at me for compliance. "Let's go!" He cried, pulling me from the dirt as I nodded numbly in agreement; the two of us sprinting through the forest as helicopters sailed far above the Arklay Mountain Forest. Brad and his men couldn't have been aware of the situation down here... This was supposed to be a simple recon! None of us had a radio!

"Brad! Where the hell is he going?" Christ voiced before I could, our eyes looked on the metal carriers as they abandoned us.

"Into the mansion!" Albert cried out, waving his gun arm as he stepped inside a massive abode, strange and eccentric. The shadows of the forest almost made the place hidden behind the shrubbery as Wesker crooked open one of the two paired doors rattling as he creaked it open, howls from deeper into the forest gave us the urgency we needed. Even as Christ tore open the door and ushered me in after Wesker, I felt the sincere intuition come over me, the subtle dread that something wrong, horrifyingly so, was on the horizon-

"AAAHH!" I screamed as the light came more quickly, the memory fading as the world snapped into focus and the pain of awaking nearly too much to handle. The lucid burst of light was blinding, blurred and my breaths were too short, too rapid. My gaze turned back from the puncture in the cave's roof as I struggled to understand what was transpiring, the unthinkable occurring.

Wesker, black rectangular sunglasses pinned to his shirt, became known to me. His gloved hand was coated in a sickly red as he removed a white gauze and tore it free, wrapping it around the straight, finger sized injury in my thigh. That wasn't from the fall... He'd harmed me. While I was dreaming?

He resuscitated me. I realized. He SAVED me?!

"Why are you wasting your time with that BSAA cheerleader, Albert?!" A smooth, succubi voice cried out as Wesker didn't even look away, my head rolling back as the pain caused me to groan; the bandage acidic, if not medicinal, to the touch. He must have taken the herbs from my back and condensed them into spray, like I'd done so many times before. It didn't excuse what he was doing, WHY he was doing it.

"Albert!" The woman cawed, like an annoying bird that wouldn't shut up.

"Prepare the boat, Excella." Wesker ordered in a level tone, before his eyes rose to mine, recognizing my awareness as my teeth naturally bit together, face tightening in registry of the pain.

"Ah. So you ARE alive. Good."

"Stop wasting your time with that girl, Albert. She could lead the BSAA straight to-"

"Excella, if you speak another word, I will be very upset to inform the loss of Tricell's executive officer." Wesker threatened in a flat tired tone. I hadn't seen him exhausted, even seven years ago, yet the tire in his eyes expressed those years without age. The years of hurting, betrayal, and the witch-hunt for Umbrella.

Hand at my holster, I nearly cried as I brought it up and-

My arm fell, the black leather glove halting my motion as he pressed into my shoulder, gravity doing its best to hold me down. I grounded my teeth as the pistol, a simple standard issue M2AF, fell from my grasp and rolled over the cold, damp stone.

"Why?" I rasped, and the curl on his lips chilled my heart and set my insides on fire with rage. Excella, the familiar name of the woman, piped up outside of my vision. "Yes, Albert. Why waste your time on this trash?"

"She is an asset, Miss Gionne." Wesker said with sudden reprimand. "You know what she carries.

"A dormant T-Virus strand is barely-" Her words surprised me. They knew about the vaccinated egg inside of me? That was classified by the BSAA, how could they have known?

"Ouroboros is barely at its fullest potential. We require a control."

"Kill me." I hissed. It would be a cold day in Hell before I became Albert's asset any day.

"Why would I do that?" Wesker freed his sunglasses with a free hand as lightning fizzled above. I was well aware of the dangers of my own infection. The benefits of being immune to most diseases, specifically those of Umbrella's fabrication. He wanted it, and I wouldn't let him have it.

"Kill me!" I cried, the pain sapping me of the bravado and strength I desired. "Because the only way I'll help you is give you the bullet that sends you to Hell!"

"Save your strength, Miss Valentine." Wesker sighed. "You'll need it." Wiping his cheek with a sleeve from drying blood, MY blood, as he stood to a more natural posture. I watched the dark cunning burn through the dark tinted sunglasses as he placed them on, the reddish glare seeping through. His fingers rolled into broad fists as he turned to the unseen Excella.

"Haul my brother into the boat before I confirm Spencer's statement. I've a plan for him," He ordered to Excella, before turning to me with that sickening smirk. "And you."

June 4th, 2009

Underground Facility, Personal Quarters

My eyes, HER eyes, rose from the bulbous container of the living creature that was attached to her chest lived. Like wires, tendrils had plunged themselves underneath her skin and coiled around and through her spine, enslaving her movements, but not her awareness. I felt her lips curve into a frown as I lifted a hand and brushed where I reside, the woman in the mirror following suit as my fingers, cloaked in the skintight material, brushed the frail, tender shell of the device. I narrowed her eyes uncharacteristically as I looked at her one last time.

Her face was softer than how she normally was, her cheeks rounded to emphasize youth instead of gauntness of age. Perhaps it was the virus we shared? Her hair, a false blonde that sashayed over a stray eye, rested slightly over her shoulder as the rest came into focus. Her face moved in ways she was not used to, frowning often or bursting with calm tenacity. Her body, a well-shaped hourglass, couldn't attempt to hide behind the coiled leather, skintight battle suit I had been issued, the form of every curve visible to me no matter where my eyes traveled. However, I knew better. She trusted me far too well for me to be perverse.

At the heart of her thin, agile body lay the red thing as it always had for two years; a slender hand brushing it with tender fingers as the other loosely clutched the zipper to the upper-section of the suit. In another time, another life; I'd spent hours, days even; simply curving these lips or crooking that brow just to get used to her face. The face that I now wore. The face that I promised would be returned whenever the opportunity arose. Yet, the strangest hesitation stole my heart, a conflict within that frightened me.

You don't have to go through with this.

I paused for a moment, her thought slipping into mine. Her eyes lowered as a face that neither Jill nor I were used to. My eyes dropped to the floor as indecision seized me by the heart. I could feel her unrest underneath, the years of watching that we shared; yet, the years of control that we contrasted. I pulled the zipper up, the familiar press of the material to my neck appeasing me.

"I must return what I've stolen." Her voice was natural, but low and almost always hushed or calm. That was what set us apart, Jill and I. She was bursting with emotion and fierce, strength and hope; whereas I was solitary, hushed, and quiet, the years of lab work experience prevalent even now, so many years after the conspiracy, the theft, and the paranoia.

You don't have to go through with this. She empathized. We can wait until we find someone else-

"Wesker will kill both Chris and his companion Sheva, regardless of my attempts to aid them. If I don't relinquish control, Chris will open fire on not only him, but us, just as the BSAA are expected to do towards the infected." I interrupted, fidgeting the collar to give comfort and not constrict. I clenched my fingers to test their fit, stretching in preparation. A cramp would be the death of both of us.

Chris wouldn't do that. We've been through too much together.

"But, Chris and I have not. Take the Tyrant you killed for example. Did it not have experiences with people it sought out? The people it killed?" I counteracted, heels of the suit clicking as I walked over to the storage locker of the Quarters on the adjourning wall. The natural sways and motions of her body had become natural and been processed without thought at this point. I pulled open the locker, one of many, and swiping the Skorpion sub-machine gun I had begun to favor and began the routine: Check the cartridge, look for damage, ensure its properly assembled. The habit influenced to me by Jill had been given long ago. I holstered the both of them in the thigh straps, snapping them into place, giving a few testing movements. With the fluids given to her by my attachment, our strength was much greater than before. The death-dealers were almost weightless.

What about Wesker? Excella?

"Albert's personality will bleed into mine, like yours already has." I sighed as I tore the flash grenades and put them at the small of my back, the clips holding them as always. "Excella is a revolting shrew whose body I'd never inhabit."

There must be another way. Jill fought, but I couldn't leave her unsubdued. Those two years were spent in preparation for this moment. The moment Wesker loses it all.

"There isn't. I will die and you will live on with your life return to you." I wrapped the cloak around my neck and pulled my arms through the sleeves, the other hand reaching for the face that I could consider my own.

I won't let you.

"You're a survivor, Jill." I reminded "Survivors survive."

You're surviving with me!Jill snapped. Two years, we've spent together. Two years of waiting, surviving together can't just mean nothing!

I pressed the Raven's mask into place, my breathing now metallic and resonating as I shut the locker, but halted as my hand remained on the metal frame, even as precious time flecked by and couldn't be wasted.

"Twenty years ago, I helped Umbrella manufacture the 'W' Project. I've earned my rest-"

You thought you were improving humanity.

"I watched a child wither and die!"
You took the research notes to ensure it never happened again!

"I am a monster!"

"You are my partner!" I felt my eyes widen in surprise as her words left my tongue, HER tongue, as the tone snapped into one of emotion, of tomboyish strength and nature that I could not have claimed. I paused for several moments, before relenting a slow, ragged sigh as I pried myself from the locker, eyes heavy into the woman in the mirror through red seeing holes. My natural frown slipped into a sad smile as I curled her blonde hair behind my head in a loose ponytail, pulling the hood up to match the mask and hide the identity sparingly.

"Well, then." I felt my tone slip with the emotions that the we both felt, heightened behind the pain and severity of it all. "Don't you trust your partner, Jill?"

The answer was immediate. You could have told Wesker that I wasn't still active, that you hadn't successfully killed me. Of course I trust you!

"Then you'll need to believe me when I say this is for the best. I've lived through you and learned more than Umbrella, Spencer, or Albert has ever taught me. I have spent years hurting people in the name of bettering society, but in truth, we were forging monsters behind it all." I breathed, her pain and sorrow nearly strangling the voice, Her voice out of my control.

"But, now I've seen the treachery I've helped cause. Now, I've seen all the evils this world could offer. Here, as we stood together for over eight-hundred days, I finally see how to right the wrongs I've enabled.

"In minutes, Chris and Sheva will fall for Excella's bait and be brought to the Monarch Room, where Wesker will force us to help him kill the both of them, to prove that you are truly inactive."

But... Jill fumbled, my own heart caving at her feelings.

"I can't let that happen. You are walking out of here, without me."

Alex.

I froze in step, hand pressed unconsciously to the metal door of our quarters, nearly opened. She sounded so helpless, as if the world had crushed her beneath its heel. I tried to level my tone. "Yes, Jill?"

Promise me. Her voice, the very trembling thought that whispered in my ear. Promise me that I'll see you again.

Even in the longevity of possible failure and death, she kept her hopes high; no matter the odds. I bowed my head for a moment, my lips curling into that rare smile that I rarely ever felt, as I recognized her bravery, her fearlessness. She was pure, I was aware. Kind and brave, the best of all of us. I shrouded my thoughts from her review as my eyes watered slightly, blinking away the tears as I could feel her recoil in confusion.

"I promise." I lied, her heart set at ease. I crooked open the door and released a heavy breath. I reflected for only a moment. The face I wore had been everywhere and had done everything in her belief and her endless conflict against injustice. Army Bomb Disposal, Special Tactics and Reconnaissance Service, Rear Security, Private Anti-Biohazard Unit, Federal Bioterrorism Agency, Bioterrorism Security Assesment Alliance. Arklay Mountains, Mediterranean Sea aboard the Queen Zenobia, Russia, the Spencer Estate, Kijuju, and now...

I smiled weakly, even as my steps rang through the muddled hallways towards my death, and the rebirth of the phoenix that was Jill Valentine. I let that feeling sink and devour me as I knew that darkness would follow next. Maybe Hell? Paradise? Reincarnation? I'll find out soon enough I suppose. For now, I wrote the memoir into Jill's mind, never letting her forget me.

My name is Alex Wesker, the project lead of Project W and the catalyst of Ouroboros, the most powerful viral infection on the planet. I am Oswell E. Spencer's prodigy, unblooded son, and thief of the research notes to my own project, to ensure the end of all that was my life's work. I die today with the admiration of one who has defeated bioterrorism globally, but only now do I truly feel what I should. Altruism was necessary to this situation and because of me, life would both end and return, after so much life ending.

I am Alex Wesker and I will save our world by ending my own life.