Resident Evil: Where'd I Put Those Keys?
Summary: One-shot. Wesker has to go to the Spencer Estate and get a few files before the plans are set in motion. Except there is one problem, getting to the files and getting out again might be a little too much for him to handle.
Wesker stopped in front of the mansion. It was just past midnight so the researchers would be gone or asleep at their computers by now. It escaped him as to why Spencer had the damn thing built like that. It looked as if it should be the setting for some Alfred Hitchcock film. Not exactly the brightest thing in the world considering their occupation. And just to top it all off it started to rain. The weather was accentuated by a large flash of lightning and loud rumble of thunder. Of course, who was he to talk? Spencer signed his paycheck and that's the most important thing.
"Not that the bastard would let go much more than the minimum pay for the entire company. For the work I do I should be getting at least half a mil a year. Tightwad. I only make 450,000. Birkin's his favorite. He gets 600,000 a year. Assholes. And I'm the one doing all the hard work," Wesker said to himself as he made his way to the front door and entered. "I don't think Birkin could even figure out how to work a gun let alone handle all the physical work involved with being a police officer."
Spencer was away dealing with some important business, leaving Wesker to deal with the situation. His advice and any further instructions were in a hidden room in the laboratory. It wouldn't be too hard to get to. He would've preferred to use the helipad but Spencer had said it would attract too much attention. So the only way in was through the mansion. Spencer said all the doors were unlocked but would be on a timer. He had three hours to get to the file and back out again. Piece of cake. And if there was a problem, there was special key under the rug at the entrance.
Wesker hurried inside so his hair wouldn't get too wet. His eyes roamed over the main hall. He saw the broad staircase with the slightly worn carpet covering the steps. The whole place was dimly lit and gave off a sense of foreboding. He prayed he never had to come back here again.
"Who the hell decorated this place? It's ugly as sin. If you ask me he should have fired that Trevor guy?" Wesker waved a gloved hand gesturing at the surrounding main hall. Of course he supposed that the being killed is a fair equivalent to being fired. "And am I the only one who thinks it's a little weird to have an old-fashioned typewriter by the staircase. "What kind of drugs are these people taking?"
It was sometime around then that he realized that he was talking to himself. Everyone probably thought he was nuts. He just couldn't understand it. William talked to himself. Marcus had talked to himself. Half the guys in the lab would be carrying on conversations in the middle of the hall when no one else was around. And they didn't just whisper to themselves like when you're trying to figure something out. Oh no, they'd yell to the empty space beside them. Wesker was convinced that at least 4 of them were schizophrenic.
"And they call me crazy."
Wesker didn't want to admit to himself that he transferred because he was being, for lack of a better word, teased. Birkin understood, but claims to never have been teased in his life. Wesker knew that was a lie. He was a textbook nerd if he'd ever seen one. William had the pale complexion, and was completely absorbed in his research. And he only talks about science. If Annette hadn't been a researcher Birkin would still be single and clueless. Not that he wanted to know any details, but at least the guy wouldn't have to die a virgin.
Wesker walked to the first door on his right. He walked past the statue almost tripping on the small step ladder. "Whose bright idea was it to put this thing here?" He usually wasn't one to get angry, but it really pissed him off when people left things in the way. Some might call him OCD. He just believed that everything had a place, people and things. If there wasn't order, everything would just fall apart. Chaos and carelessness is what led to failure. And failure was unacceptable.
After kicking the ladder out of the way he noticed a small side room. He just couldn't resist wondering what was in there. He followed it around to see a shelf against the wall. There were a whole bunch of paintings. Some were of naked women, painted in the renaissance style. Another stack held what looked like collages of the guinea pigs used in some of the experiments. They were mostly before and after pictures. Wesker looked at the guinea pig with its fur all nice and soft and looking so adorable, chewing on a wood chunk. Wesker then picked up the last stack. All were Dali and Picasso painting replicas. "Figures," he muttered.
Wesker returned to the room with the statue and again tripped over the step ladder. He started to get angry then realized he was the one that kicked it over there. So he just kept going, following the bright hall around the 90 degree turn. Most people would consider it a little sick that there were skeletons on display throughout length of it in small wooden cases. They were good sturdy pieces of furniture, each with a name tag.
Wesker read them aloud, "Mary Spencer, Johnson Spencer, Molly and Millie, Jason, Jake, and finally Martha." He never knew of anyone who took care of their ancestors quite as oddly as Osmund Spencer. Wesker shrugged it off and continued onward. He had gotten used to stuff like that from 'eccentric geniuses.' There was hardly a thing that could bother him. He'd seen so much in the company already.
The next hall had a few twists and turns. He thought it was hilarious that in the entire mansion there was only one bathroom. It made no sense at all. Of course there was only one bedroom and that was on the second floor. Wesker didn't dwell on it though. He continued around through the double doors at the end.
"It would've been nice if you could've just put it in the room beyond the room with the crushing roof. Or in the office maybe. But no, it has to be in the damn lab. In the basement." Wesker shouted sarcastically. Briefly, he wondered if there were cameras around. "Of course there are cameras. Spencer wouldn't go through all this then not have the place monitored. There better not be anyone at the security station."
He ran his gloved fingers through his blond hair and walked to the end of the next hall into the grimy tool shed and through out to the courtyard. His shoes clacked against the cobbled floor. Passed the shed was the garden. It was one pathetic garden. It was obvious that Spencer didn't bother with it. There were no blooms anywhere. Besides, the set-up was all wrong. Nothing flowed. But he caught himself before his thoughts wandered too far off. He realized that he was making good time. He took an immediate left after exiting the tool shed. Something caught his eye then. There was one thing that was kept up though. The herbs. Red, green, and blue plants were arranged in a small bed. Their arrangement didn't please Wesker in the least. The green herbs were arranged into an 'F', the red herbs were arranged into a 'U', and the blue herbs around it.
"Fuck you too Spencer."
He took the side elevator down then took the narrow path between two ponds that had once contained the really big goldfish. There were only two left out of six. After the others had died, Osmund didn't bother replacing them. Wesker took the ladder down to the second level of the basement and the stairs down to the third. In the office was where the files were. There were three files. The first one contained a manuscript.
"Spencer's writing a romance novel?! You have got to be kidding me. And under the penname Mary Jane Bonner." He picked up the second one. His name was written on it. Just to be on the safe side Wesker took a quick glance inside. He knew he should just leave the other one alone, but curiosity won out. He looked inside. Wesker was relieved to find it was only articles about the recent attacks in the Arklay Mountains. As he was about to replace the file a picture dropped out. It was all of the head researchers from the late 80s with their heads pasted on the bodies of female models. Disgusted he threw the picture back in the file and took off.
On the way back up he dropped by Jon's room. Wesker couldn't help himself. Jon always had such interesting things lying around. Nude pictures and love letters from his girl and a whole lot of books on all of the major tests done within the last century. Especially some personal manuscripts from WWII. Some of the other files made the Nazi researchers look like saints.
And Jon's room wouldn't be complete without his very odd collections. You would think that a scientist would have something like a coin or stamp collection. Or maybe spores, molds, and fungi like Egon from Ghostbusters. But his things were a DNA, skin, and blood sample from every experiment whether they were successes or failures along with their name and picture. He had them in display cases that sat against the wall. The last one was from two years ago. It looked like he softened up a bit since meeting Ada Wong.
Wesker found Jon's stash of love letters from his girl. He couldn't resist reading just a little of the correspondents from Ada to Jon. Once done he checked his watch then surveyed the room. Unfortunately he had to go. Wesker wanted to make sure that he had plenty of time to get out of the lab and back through the house.
"You're crazy for getting involved with a woman. The only thing they're good for is trouble." Wesker told Jon even though he wasn't here. "Look at me. I'm the smartest, smoothest, coolest guy in the entire corporation and everyone knows it. And a woman would only hinder my greatness." Once finished thinking that he promptly slipped on some green viscous slime on the floor.
"Son of a-" Wesker tried to identify it then decided against it. "What the hell is up with this place?" He looked in the mirror and saw that his hair was messed up. Not to mention his backside was covered in some weird goo. "Damn! I didn't bring any hair gel." Wesker sighed and ran the faucet, smoothing the stray locks into place with the after. He couldn't do much for the suit though. He'd dispose of it properly by burning it. His suits deserved nothing less.
With his sleek and cool image tarnished and he decided he'd wasted enough time. It only took a fraction of the time to get back to the front door. Wesker was glad to leave the place behind. He was about to get back to his car when he realized that he was without his keys.
"Shit. I must've dropped them when I fell in Jon's room. Now I have to go back through the creepy mansion to get them. At least I have another hour before the locks are reactivated." Just as he got back inside he heard the horrifying sound of the timer going off and the front door locking. But at least he had the key in case this happened. Wesker fished around in his coat pocket and found that the Master Key was missing too. He looked at his watch again. "But I still have another hour!" It was then that he remembered. Daylight savings time. "I always reset my watch. Always. How could this happen?"
Wesker took a deep breath and double checked to make sure that the doors were actually locked then set off to solve the puzzle that made up the Osmund Spencer's mansion. Dr. Albert Wesker never shied away from a challenge. "I have a PHD in bioengineering. This should be a piece of cake. I have the layout down pretty good," he lied to himself. "I have a good idea of the hiding places." Another lie. "And there aren't any insane freakish experiments running around." He hoped he wasn't lying.
He started off in the dining room since the path he took before was blocked he went into the dining room and out into the small hall. Three doors. All locked. He turned away from the larger door and a large spider popped down from the ceiling. Wesker jumped back. It was a fake. He was at least thankful he didn't scream like a girl. He hated spiders. It didn't matter what else it was. Nothing else really scared him like spiders. Not roaches, not toads, not zombies or even the tyrant. Just spiders. Well spiders and the dream where he went to work wearing nothing but his sunglasses when it was cold out. But that was beside the point.
Now he knew that someone was watching. I've got nothing to be ashamed of, Wesker thought. He then raised his voice and turned to the most likely place for there to be a camera. "I'm going to kill every single one of you when I get my hands on you." He could imagine a group sitting in front of the monitors watching him and laughing at all of this. And it pissed him off something fierce. He couldn't kill Spencer or Jon. And even though Birkin was now head of the Raccoon City Lab he was probably in on it too. But everyone else would get it.
With that promise taken care of he went off. He unfortunately didn't know the locations of all the pieces but he was confident that he would figure it out. How hard can it be? "I'll beat this and get out of here. It won't even take me an hour," Wesker taunted.
One Hour Later . . .
Wesker had just unlocked the first door with the sword key. "The sheets were gray and so was the key. That was brilliant. Why can't they just put a blinking light on it? How is anyone supposed to find anything in this place?" Wesker shook his head. With each passing moment he became more and more pissed off. He could be at home preparing for all the crap he had to do in addition to going to work."
Wesker took the time to realize that if finding one key took this long, then getting out of here would probably take most of the night. Then he'd have to get home, a 45 minute drive, then get to the police station. This was most definitely not his night.
"What would everyone say if I was late? Everyone would be thoroughly shocked. Actually that might be fun to see the look on their faces when I came strolling in at 10am when I was supposed to show up at 7am." That made him smile. But only briefly.
With the Sword Key in his possession he made it to the plant in the fountain. Then he had the Armor Key and found the Helmet Key on the way back to the door to the courtyard. Then he had to search for the crests the Moon Crest, Sun Crest, Wind Crest, and Star Crest. Which meant that he spent half an hour back tracking. Finally he had all the crests and was standing in front of the puzzle. Hurriedly he put them in place and tried the door. Nothing. After two more tries he read the inscription on it before rearranging them a fourth time. This time there was a soft click from the lock drawing back.
He hurried past the tool shed and the herbs heading straight for the underground path. Thankfully the battery was still in the side elevator so he didn't have to worry about crossing the pond. Shortly after he was in the underground.
Another Hour Later . . .
After a lot of frustration and a very painful headache, Wesker found himself in front of Jon's room. He was beginning to hate Spencer. Wesker had to break down Jon's door. Well to be more specific he got a blowtorch out of one of the utility closets and melted the hinges. In the puddle of muck he fell in before lay his keys.
"That's my present to all of you watching this. Have fun replacing the door." He made sure to not show his anger. Eagerly he grabbed them up from the slime on the floor and took the master key off the small table before turning back the way he came.
It was then that he found two zombies waiting outside. One of them had a note attached to his shirt reading "For our beloved A&W." His nickname. They only used it since he was working for the information department since. No one, not even Spencer, had the balls to say it to his face. It was two of the janitors from … well Wesker didn't really know where they were from. It's not like it mattered to anyone anyhow.
"What the hell is wrong with you people? That was two people that are just going to get blood and gray matter all over my clothes." Wesker pulled out his custom Berretta and put a bullet in each of their skulls. Their heads exploded with a satisfactory sound and as expected, little bits of bone with brain and blood on him. He ignored the note. The only thing it could say was something derogatory. Besides he didn't have the time for it.
"Now all I have to do is get out again." Wesker was quite pleased with himself. And it had only taken two hours to get there. He got out of Jon's room and went back the way he came. When reached the foot of the ladder he became drenched in water from the pond. He bit back a response. He couldn't let himself give into his anger. He'd kept calm before under worse conditions. He climbed the ladder and one rung before the top his hand slipped. This left him unbalanced and his other hand slipped leaving Wesker to drop to the hard concrete. His head hit the ground with a small thud and the water threatened to choke him.
By now Wesker was completely furious and as soon as he recovered he threatened them all. "That's fucking it! Whoever's behind this you better show yourselves now!" No one appeared. "God damn it."
He felt dripping against his neck. It took him a while to realize that it was water and blood. His shades had streaks of water dripping off of them and he was soaked to the skin. The black fabric clung to him in places and made him uncomfortable. "You're going to get it when I get a hold of you Jon. I know you're here, you always are." Wesker whispered to himself. This time he climbed slower and more cautiously. Not to mention he had a death grip on the metal. "And when was the last time you've seen the sun?"
He continued onward and got back to the front door. It was still locked and the Master Key wasn't working on it. Now he remembered that Spencer had told him that the key was by the holding cell if the security system had been activated. Even though the door was wood, it had reinforced metal bars inside along with solid metal deadbolts and he left the torch in Jon's room. He checked around for an open window and found one on the second floor. He finally found some rope so he could get down without injuring himself further. Before starting his descent he made sure that his car keys were with him. Calmly he went to his car. His shoes sloshed as he made his way to the vehicle. He left a wet imprint in the seat when he got out.
But now that he was finally home he had to go to work. He checked his watch. 7:06 a.m. He felt like screaming. They were so going to pay. After taking care of the gash on his head Wesker took a shower and dressed for work. He took extra care when dealing with his hair. First blow-drying and combing then the gel. Unfortunately with all that the cut started bleeding again. He would have to bleach his hair later on after work. Wesker figured there was no point in hurrying. Late was late whether it was a minute or an hour. And he would rather go in looking like business as usual instead of spent the whole night with a psychotic dumbasses. Of course he knew this wasn't going to be good.
He marched into the office at a little past eight-thirty, going straight to Chief Irons' office. Wesker could feel the eyes of Alpha team and Bravo team staring at him in disbelief. To get back at the people in the lab he wanted to tell them all to fuck off. But it was unprofessional and not their fault. He was so pissed off he couldn't even enjoyed the stunned silence. Albert Wesker, leader of Alpha team and head of the S.T.A.R.S. unit was never late. It wasn't physically possible, like the sun going around the moon. It didn't happen.
Chief Irons made it look like he was being harangued for being late but understood. In fact Spencer had already filled him in on what was going on and he had to keep himself from laughing at the whole deal. "Very well. I know it's a one time deal. Spencer mentioned that he would be sending you to the research facility."
"Good."
"So everything is alright?"
"Of course Chief." Wesker turned to leave.
"Good. And before you go, Spencer wanted me to give you a message."
Wesker turned and waited for the chief to talk. Instead he handed over the note that had been tied to the zombie in the lower lab. He took the note from him and shoved it in his pocket before turning and storming out. He slammed the chief's door when he left. Everyone was watching him. He was just glad that no one spoke or they wouldn't have lasted through the day.
"One of those days boss?" Forest Speyer.
"Girl trouble?" Richard Aiken asked slyly. He couldn't help but ask. In the two years they'd had Wesker as their leader, no one knew anything about his personal life. They were sure he wasn't married but since he always had his gloves on they didn't really know. But that's all.
Wesker chose his words carefully. "My alarm clock stopped working."
The answer just didn't fit. Wesker seemed to have a very good internal clock. Even if the alarm didn't go off, force of habit would have got him up. They each looked at each other knowing that something was up. They waited until lunch so they could discuss it in more detail.
"The alarm bit is a poor excuse for a guy like him," Aiken said.
"True. But what could it be?" Frost wondered.
"Maybe he had a date," Rebecca said innocently.
A couple of them smiled. "Maybe he had a good date. It's about time for Wesker to get some."
"I don't want to go there," Dewey told them.
"Wesker doesn't seem like the type to let a woman get in the way of his job. He's a workaholic," Chris said.
"If you're all so curious why doesn't someone just ask him?" Sullivan asked.
"He's got a point," Barry agreed. "But it's really none of our business as to what Wesker was doing last night."
"And what makes you think that Wesker will just tell someone about his personal life even if someone asks?" Dewey told them. "He might even fire the person who asks about it."
"He can't do that. Whoever confronts him about it might end up taking a bullet or two, but they wouldn't get fired," Aiken commented.
"Sullivan and Barry are right. This isn't our concern," Jill put in her two cents.
"So you aren't the least bit curious?" Speyer wondered.
"Of course I am. But that doesn't mean that I have to know what's going on," Jill replied.
"Either way, it's not like he did anything wrong. We've all been late to work at one point or another," Sullivan added. To him this whole conversation was pointless.
"And I'm sure if Wesker was having trouble with the opposite sex I'm sure he'd talk to someone about it," Jill said.
"Yeah, that's what 900 numbers are for," Aiken commented. He was a funny guy except he always said what was on his mind even if it was bad timing. And this was bad timing.
"You know there are no personal calls on the job Aiken." Wesker told him as he pretended like he was just walking by. He'd heard almost the entire conversation and Richard Aiken was like the class clown. There was just one problem. Wesker didn't find him funny at all.
"Hi Wesker. Care to join us?" Aiken played it off quite nicely. He knew if Wesker had been standing there long enough to hear him, someone would've mentioned it to him.
"No." Wesker turned and walked away without saying anything. He was completely exhausted and the Adravil wasn't working on his headache.
"Do you think he heard?" Dewey asked.
"How could he? Wesker wasn't anywhere around here. Don't worry." Chris told them. "It's almost time to get back to work."
Wesker sat at his desk. No one would know by looking at him that he'd received zero hours of sleep and had just pulled a ten hour shift. However when it came time for everyone to leave he stopped them at the door. "Aiken, I have something that requires your personal attention."
The others hurried out of the office leaving poor Richard alone with Wesker. He visibly paled. "What can I do for you Captain?"
"In the janitor's closet you'll find everything you need to clean out the prison cells. I expect them spotless by tomorrow morning."
Aiken's eyes became as big as saucers. "The cells. All of them? By . . . ." He paused knowing that Wesker had definitely overhead him earlier. "Yes sir."
"Good." With that Wesker got up and walked out. He got home and plopped down on the couch. He then remembered the note. "To A&W. He opened it and saw that only two words were written inside. "April Fools." He stared at the page for a moment before letting out a howl of rage. Heads were going to roll.
A/n: Okay, I'm pretty sure Spencer was dead before RE1 but I didn't know Wesker's direct Boss so he'll just have to do. Also I based it predominantly of the PS version though I threw in a few one or two things from the GC version as well just because. I'm not the best at writing humorous fics but I think I did a fair job. I don't have a beta reader so feel free to point out mistakes. I hope you enjoyed this and reviews are always appreciated.