He remembered a time when everything was simpler, when life wasn't so complicated, so painful… At first the beatings came with a vehemence that couldn't really be described quite accurately, a hate and rage unlike anything he had ever known. At first he fought back and tried to deal an equal beating to his attacker. This only ever ended in misfortune and finally Chris came to the realization that the more he fought back, the more his aggressor enjoyed it and prolonged their encounters. The brunette had finally learned to just lie back and take the beatings, that way they would be far less severe. The blonde would become bored and leave if Chris didn't give him a reason to stick around. He'd repeat these words in his head over and over, feeling ultimately humiliated and defeated.
"Really you've become such a bore Chris. Where's that tenacity and fire of yours that used to burn so brightly, hmmm?" The velvety voice questioned him as he lifted the weaker man by the throat and slammed him against the wall. Chris grunted as his body forcefully hit the cement behind him. "Where are your hot headed comments now, eh Chris?" He taunted him tightening his grip and clenching his teeth in a malicious leer. Chris gasped for breath under his heavy grip. The brunette felt his world begin to turn black and he was on the verge of passing out completely when his body hit the floor. The blonde had dropped him, his ruthless mind knowing exactly how to push Chris past his breaking points without pushing him to far over that edge that would bring the younger man's death. Chris hacked and coughed, inhaling desperately the oxygen he had bee deprived of. When he felt he had the strength he sat up and looked up at the tyrant with his broken gaze.
"Why don't you just kill me Wesker?" Chris asked in a whisper, rubbing his sore neck, his tone almost begging the man to end his life.
"Kill you Chris?" Wesker mocked, "No, you and I, we're just getting started…" A deep, sick laugh echoed out across the room as he left the wrecked man in the cell alone. No matter how empty and numb Chris Redfield felt, that laugh still gave him chills.
Albert Wesker made his way down the dark halls, content after having beat the shit out of Chris Redfield once again. He ran a gloved hand through his slicked back blonde locks, now feeling more relaxed. Beating his former subordinate was almost like therapy to him, more like a drug really. Feeding off that man's pain was intoxicating. His mind wandered back to what Chris had asked him. "Kill you, Chris? That option became unviable long ago." He contemplated to himself. Feelings of rage washed over him with this thought, and yet a small feeling of only what could be described as nostalgia. He pushed them aside quickly though, after all, feelings were for the weak, and one thing Albert Wesker was not, was weak.
This is my first story I've uploaded, please tell me what you think so far!!! ^-^ Reviews are appreciated!