"Where is my daughter?" he held the gun to the man's head. Rage filled him, a rage so black and dreadful it caused his eyes to burn crimson through his shades. There was no hiding what he was now. Not as he dashed from hallway, snapping a neck here, punching through a chest there. Alarms had been tripped yet but with all the dead behind him as he worked his way deeper into the facility, it was inevitable. His thick black wool coat and suit were matted with blood and gore. If they hurt her…he shook his head. He would destroy this entire facility and everyone here would it come to that. His little one…he couldn't imagine her gone, couldn't imagine telling her mother that he had failed. No, he would find her. He knew she was here. He could've sent an army but he wanted to come alone, wanted to rip apart whoever had the audacity to take his pride from him.

"I don't know, please, I don't know." The man on his knees whimpered. Coming back from his thoughts, he stared down at him. "Then you are of no use to me." He pulled the trigger, the silencer making a dull thump as the man fell back. He continued on, his experience with similar facilities pulling him deeper underground. He found an elevator that required a passcode and swore under his breath. He had backtracked the entire area; this was the only way down. 'How inconvenient.' he thought as he paced. He could feel the time passing like the ticking of a great clock. 'If they hurt her..' He had wasted enough time. He punched through the control panel and pulled out the wires. He tied a few together and the doors slide open. He got in, hit the lowest button and reloaded as the doors slide closed.

Four floors down the elevator stopped and the light turned red. A klaxon rang out. INTRUDER ALERT. INTRUDER ALERT. LOCKDOWN PROTOCOLS WILL NOW COMMENCE. Yes, inevitable. He removed his overcoat and sunglasses, checked his ammo and holster then found the maintenance hatch. He jumped through it and landed on the roof of the elevator. He looked down. The shaft seemed to go down miles. 'If they hurt her...' He jumped down. He landed and rolled after what felt like a minute. He appraised the door in the red light; it was different than the others, reinforced steel with what looked like carbon fiber. They wouldn't expect anyone to be able to get through that. Well, he wasn't anyone, he was a god. He lined his fingers up into a knife edge and stabbed them into the edge of the doors. Quite predictably, the edge creased, allowing him a finger hold. With his prodigious strength he pulled the doors open. Cautiously, he stepped into the hall, his pupils widening to take in the red, strobing light. The klaxon was still going but it was faint down here, it was almost quiet. Slowly he moved forward, inspecting the labs, most looked empty. At the corner he turned right, there were only three labs on this side. Two held people on tables, attached to machines. Eyes wild, they pleaded with the red eyed devil silently, their bodies arching under restraints. He passed them by, they were not his concern. The third lab held a body, open as if for an autopsy. He edged closer to the window. His scientific mind glanced over the cadaver and summed up what he saw there. 'If they hurt her...' Something glinted in the back of the 'autopsy' room. He looked down at the door. It was undoubtedly pressure sealed and would require yet another passcode. He growled, took a step back and threw himself through the plate glass window. The stench was immediate and he crinkled his nose. Something clanged to the floor up the hall. 'Impossible' he thought, 'the other labs are likely sealed as well.' He strode to the window, treading softly on the shards of glass and looked out. Nothing. He ground his teeth impatiently. It was unsettling quiet, even the klaxon had faded. He looked around to the shiny thing glittering on the floor. 'Odd' he thought.

It was a glass eye. 'I do not have time for this.' he thought angrily. His burning eyes swept the room. In the corner a statue of a torso was missing an eye. 'How bloody convenient.' Clenching his jaw, he walked over and inserted the eye in the statue. The statue slowly revolved to reveal a set of stairs. "And this isn't even an Umbrella facility." he mumbled with a sneer. Shaking his head he dashed down the stairs. He kept running until he came to a door. He put his foot through it and dashed into what appeared to be a garage with about fifty men in tactical gear talking. Before they could finish turning to see what the commotion was, he had dived right in. Letting loose his phenomenal strength, he ripped heads from shoulders, kicked kneecaps backward, tore arms out of sockets, pulled hearts from chests, stomped heads to pulp and dodged the bullets they eventually fired at him. They didn't stand a chance. Eventually only two men were "alive" in a sense. One lay still on his back, all sensation from the neck down gone. He had taken a mustang kick to the spine. The other was hanging from a pipe in the ceiling where he'd been thrown. Amazingly, the pipe that impaled him was also keeping him alive. Wesker wiped the blood from his face as well as he could and squatted beside the man on the floor. Looking up at the impaled man he spoke loud enough for both to hear. "I am looking for my daughter. Tell me where she is and I will end you quickly. Do not and well…" He let the threat hang in the air and smirked. "Your choice, gentlemen." The impaled man on the ceiling merely stared, anger in his eyes. Wesker looked from him to the man on the floor. The man on the floor looked terrified and was whispering something. He leaned close to hear. "I can't feel my legs." The man said. He tilted his head to the side and his smirk grew fangs "I know." Wesker grabbed his jaw and began to squeeze. The man on the floor shrieked as he felt his jaw begin to pulverize. The man on the ceiling began to cry out. "Jason! Oh god, please! Jason!" 'Jason' only shrieked louder. Wesker leaned across his body and whispered in his ear. "Scream for me, louder" and squeezed his jaw slowly, oh so slowly. He looked into his face with a grin. The boy, for he was hardly a man, was breathing raggedly, his eyes rolling up to the white. The man on the ceiling began to thrash, trying to get down and help his friend. Wesker merely glanced in his direction and muttered 'impressive' before returning his attention to the man child. "My daughter. Where?" The man on the ceiling yelled "Stop! I'll tell you! Just for the love of god, stop!" Wesker rose to his feet. Eyeing the man curiously he stood beneath him, arms crossed. "Well?" The man adjusted himself on the pipe and eyed him steadily. "Will you keep your promise, end us quickly?" Wesker chuckled. "I give you my word." The man looked pale and rightly skeptical. He chuckled again. "On my daughter's life." The man sighed and leaned back, grimacing as the pipe shifted organs. "She's in room 206. Down the stairs, left, two doors. The code is 1126." finished, he closed his eyes. Wesker smiled and walked to the man child who seemed to have slipped into unconsciousness. He placed a foot on his stomach, bent down and grabbed his jaw. Looking up at the man on the ceiling he began to squeeze. Jason's eyes flew open and began to shriek. The man on the ceiling's eyes flew open and he began to thrash, screaming "No goddamn it! Jason!" Wesker squeezed and pulled hard. The man child's jaw came off and he began to drown in his own blood. He pulled his hand back and shot it through the boy's chest, quieting the gagging and gurgles. He looked again at the pined man who was now sobbing, he smiled broadly. "That was quick. If I find you lied, I will make you wish you had never been born." The smile vanished as soon as it had come. His crimson eyes flashed as he dashed down the stairs.

He stopped in a bathroom on the lower floor to wash the remnants of blood from his face. He washed the blood from his gloves and wiped at the gore on his shirt front. He inspected his reflection in the yellow glow, squinted. Was that blood in his hair? He swiped at it with a paper towel and sighed. It was the best he could do for now. He walked out of the bathroom and continued down the hall. 206. 'If they hurt her...' He punched the code and entered cautiously. The room was unsettling to him. There were bright pastels on the walls, a soft downy carpet, and little bed done in pink, fluffy toys everywhere. He spotted a tiny princess gown on the floor. His brow furrowed and he pulled his gun. Suddenly, a vicious little growl rose up from the corner near the desk. He walked towards, glancing at the coloring books there as he passed. He was pleased to see all the males had yellow hair and drawn on sunglasses. The little growl came again. "Honey?" he whispered.

A tiny golden ball of energy came flying out of the corner, hit him in the shin, ricocheted, bounced back and attached itself to his leg. "Daddy!" it screeched. He holstered his weapon, smiling as he reached down to pick up his pride. "Hello, Honey. Did you miss me?" he teased. "Always and forever Daddy." she answered, just like always. Her little brow furrowed. "Daddy, can we go home? I don't like it here" she pouted adorably. He smiled wistfully as he stared into her crystal blue eyes." Of course Honey." Her little body nestled close to him, tiny hands wrapped around his neck; he dashed with her back upstairs. He put his hand on her honey curls to keep her face in his shoulder as they came to the garage. Looking up, he saw the man on the ceiling had closed his eyes again. With one fluid motion, he pulled his Edge, shot the man between the eyes and holstered. Stepping over the jawless man on the floor, he smoothed his daughter's hair. "Let's go home."