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Wesker's New Life

Episode One: Wesker Behind Bars! (Part One)


The prison was deafening.

Wesker grit his teeth and held his lunch tray tightly as he shuffled along at a near snails pace on the lunch line with fellow inmates.

Well, he wouldn't call them fellow inmates. To Wesker they were more like the unfortunate souls who were trapped in a giant concrete structure with him.

Oh but how he hated the noise. A hundred ugly, inbred men yapping insistently without end. All Wesker saw in every direction were heads flapping about with nothing to say. He was beginning to consider his decision to let these fools live a mistake. A mistake he would have to rectify soon.

"Your tray, Con."

Wesker gripped the edges of his tray and watched with clenched teeth a large brick wall of a man only known as 'D'. D was Wesker's cellmate and he was as dumb as he was big.

And he snored. Oh Mama Wesker did the man snore.

And clip his toenails.

And pick his teeth.

Wesker bit his bottom lip. Since losing his syringe and missing his shot of the experimental virus on the St. Wesker Wesker's abilities had diminished. He was still strong, he was still fast, only very less so. Less than he was used to, anyway.

But his hearing, his hearing was still at peak efficiency. Of course it had to be, how else was he going to hear D jam that toothpick in between his teeth for several hours a day otherwise?

"Con! Your tray!"

Wesker snapped out of his rage trance and turned to the burly man holding a ladle of mashed potatoes with a displeased look on his face. He wore a grease stained apron two sizes too small that strained against his massive gut. He had a small paper hat that barely covered a bald spot that was glistening from sweat. The man also had a lazy eye. One eye was currently focused on his tray and the other, the lazy eye, was looking dead into Wesker's eyes. Dead into Wesker's black soul.

Wesker suddenly lost his appetite.

Shaking his head at the creature of a man, Wesker tucked the empty tray under his arm like a book and walked off to sit far away from everyone else in the cafeteria.

"Hey Whiskey."

Of course, he wouldn't be able to.

D sat down next to Wesker and put a large arm around his shoulder.

"Get your hands off me, D." Wesker said in a growl.

"Oh come on." D pulled Wesker in close and he almost gagged when he caught a whiff of D's underarms. "We cell mates. We buddies. Don't you like D?"

"No." Wesker said definitely. "I do not like D."

D pouted, moving the toothpick around with his tongue. "But D likes you, Whiskey. You're cool. =] "

Wesker had no idea how D managed to emote with his voice, but if anyone could, it was this man. "D, listen. I just want to be left alone right now." He grabbed D's wrist and lifted it off his shoulders. "And its Wesker. Wesker."

"Whis-"

Wesker shook his head. "Wes.."

D's face strained. "Whissss… key. =] "

Wesker buried his face in his hands. "Whatever, fine. Just, just go away, D."

D sighed, defeated. "Fine. But D is going to make you like him. D and Whiskey are going to be buddies."

D rose and left Wesker alone at the table. With some measure of peace the former evil mastermind turned towards the window of the cafeteria and watched the birds fly over head. It was a terrible metaphor for freedom, but Wesker was starting to feel a measure of depression creep into his usual calm demeanor.

The fact of the matter was simple: he had to get out of here. Not only because he didn't want to be stuck with the human chaff for another hour, let alone the rest of his life, but because he was getting weaker.

His powers, he hated to admit, were waning. He could still hold his own, but he feared that spending even a week in this hell hole without his next shot would not be good for him.

He surmised that, eventually, he would succumb to death's embrace. An embrace he's long evaded. Something he would do everything in his power to evade again.

"Hey cracka!"

The sound of a fist pounding the lunch table brought Wesker into the present. He didn't jump, merely calmly looked across the table at the man who referred to him as a snack food.

"May I help you?"

The inmate was almost as large as D, but all muscle. A snarl curled his lips and he had small, beady eyes. He was hunched over and snorted, like a bull.

"I don't like you, pretty boy."

"That's funny." Wesker said blankly. "I guess we have something in common."

"What?"

"Tell me." Wesker reached into the sleeve of his jumpsuit and pulled out a small silver blade, a shiv he thought it was called. "Have you ever heard of a T-incision?"

The inmate said nothing, but his eyes darkened when he saw the blade.

Wesker raised the knife and but did not attack. He simply held it horizontally and slowly made the shape of a 'T' in the air. "Its something I developed in my field of work. You take the knife and you cut the creature from shoulder to shoulder. Then you cut from the neck down to the tail bone."

"The quickest way to skin a gorilla. From there you just peel the skin off." A twisted smile spread across Wesker's face. "You know, like a banana."

Wesker slipped the blade back into his sleeve and the inmate leaned back in his seat. "Fuckin' freak, that's what you are. I don't believe it for a minute."

He smirked. "Well, why don't you come by my cell. I can give you a demonstration."

The inmate said nothing but stood up and left, grumbling underneath his breath.

Wesker exhaled. He still had the ability to intimidate that was for sure. Prison might not be so bad if it wasn't for, well, everything that made it bad. Maybe he would finally be able to think of a plan for escape in peace.

"Con." Someone jabbed a thick finger into his shoulder.

Wesker grumbled and turned in his seat, he grabbed the offending finger and twisted it. "Hands off!"

POW! Wesker caught a nightstick to the face and reeled back only slightly. He did, however, let the finger go.

Wesker rubbed his jaw and looked at the fat corrections officer holding the nightstick. Oh the hundreds of ways he could kill him right here! It would have to wait, though. He would get his revenge soon enough.

"Next time you'll think twice before putting your hands on an officer. Otherwise a bruised jaw will be the least of your problems."

Wesker glowered. "What is it?"

"A friend of yours heard you were here." The officer said the word 'friend' as sarcastically as possible. "He wants to see you."

"I know no one here." Wesker said. "You're clearly mistaken."

"He thinks differently." The corpulent CO grinned, his greasy mustache curving with his mouth. "He knows you very well."

"What's his name?" Wesker said, clearly not pleased.

"Barry Burton." The CO sneered. "CO Barry Burton."

Oh dear, Wesker did his best to suppress a sneer of his own. Perhaps this prison detour will be more fruitful than I first imaged!


The prison bars to Wesker's cell shut with a loud clang. His hands now free of the handcuffs, Wesker turned towards the bars and wrapped his hands around them.

"Barry!" The CO called. "The con is ready for you."

The CO winked at Wesker. "Good luck." And laughed mockingly before leaving.

But not before Wesker got a good look at his nametag: McGrady.

He added the name to his mental list of people and their families he would have to kill when he got the chance.

CO Barry Burton stepped into Wesker's view and Wesker tried his best not to laugh. Actually that was a lie, Wesker laughed once, very loudly, upon seeing Burton. He was dressed in the usual CO's uniform: dark blue, he wore a badge with his name on it, and a blue officer hat. He had grown a full beard. Perhaps out of depression.

"My, my." Wesker said. "What do we have here? Oh, how the mighty have fallen! Then again, you were never mighty to begin with, were you Barry?"

Burton's hand dropped, hovering over the pistol on his hip. "You're lucky I don't shoot you dead right here."

Wesker only smirked. "I could say the same. I don't appreciate you shooting me back in Arklay. Don't think I haven't forgotten about that."

"What happened to Chris?" Burton didn't seem keen on catching up on old times.

"Oh I don't know." Wesker shrugged. "Diving for pearls?"

Barry didn't say anything, but his expression darkened.

"If you'd like I can take you to him." Wesker crossed his arms. "You let me out of here and I'll make sure you and Chris can play catch up at the bottom of the ocean."

Burton looked speechless but after a great deal of time the Neanderthal managed to put a few words together. "I-ah.. I think we're through here."

He then tapped on Wesker's bars. "Open up on 15."

Burton left and the bar's on Wesker's cell slid open. Wesker stepped out and was prepared to track down Burton. However the inmate from before blocked Wesker's view and put a large, meaty hand on Wesker's chest and pushed him back.

"I'm here freak." The inmate growled, cracking his knuckles. "You gonna show me that technique of yours?"

"Ah, I have no time to play with you, Magilla." Wesker tried to push passed him. "Maybe you should go talk to the Warden, he'll probably transfer you to the zoo when he realizes he's got a gorilla loose in his prison."

The inmate shoved Wesker back again. Wesker was growing increasingly tired of the prison, it's inmates and everyone else in it.

"Come on, white trash!" The large black inmate growled at him, holding up his fists and ready for a fight. "Lets see what your skinny ass can do."

"Are you a lawyer?" Wesker asked, lifting his fists up nonchalantly.

The inmate tilted his head at the question. "What?"

Wesker advanced immediately and drove his foot in the inmates chest. The inmate was knocked back, his head bouncing against the prison bars with a sickening thud. He crumpled to the floor, dead.

"Because you just failed the bar!" Wesker sneered, pleased with himself.

The celebration was short lived, however, when the prison alarms began to sound. Wesker thought briefly of simply waiting for the officers to come to him and take out as many as he could. Then again, that would be foolish. Wesker's abilities were waning fast and even though he was more than a match for anyone even they would eventually overpower him. No, if he was going to make a break for it, it would have to be now.

"Whiskey!"

Wesker placed a hand over his face when he saw D rushing over towards him. As if things couldn't get any worse.

"D I don't have time-"

D held up a hand, which shocked Wesker that the oaf would try and silence him! "Whiskey, you in big trouble! We hav'ta get out of here!"

Wesker's expression soured. He did not like the fact that D was delusional enough to think that they were buddies… And yet, with a man of his size he could be a decent meat shield to use if the CO's began shooting.

Wesker grinned, his decision made. "All right D, lets get out of here."


Barry entered his office, hung up his hat on the hanger and sank into his chair. He was not looking forward to the news he had to break. Still, Jill was his friend and he had to make the call.

Reluctantly Barry picked up the receiver and dialed Jill's number. He sighed and leaned back in his chair, praying she wouldn't pick up the phone.

Click.

"Barry, is that you?"

Barry sat bolt upright when Jill's voice came on the phone. He cleared his throat and tried his best not to stammer. "I ah-ah-ah.. Hey Jill how are you?"

"Well, Chris is missing. Sheva is missing. Wesker is missing. Josh barely knows how to fly a helicopter, let alone land one. I'm blonde, I have ten holes in my chest thanks to Wesker's crazy mind-control … thing. I've spent a ludicrous amount of time not being able to control my body and have had to watch in horror as Wesker controlled my body to… to…"

Barry's eyes widened. "To… what?"

"That bastard can't cook. I was basically his live in maid when he wasn't sending me out to try and kill Chris. That man has an unhealthy obsession with cheeseburgers."

"Oh… I ah-.. I see."

"So, I'm not very good. Have you got any news?"

"Yeah, Wesker surrendered. We have him in lockup."

Jill sounded ecstatic. "That's great! Did you torture the bastard to find out where Chris was?"

"Oh, uh, about Chris…"

Jill was dead silent. Barry took a deep breath and winced in preparation. "Wesker said he killed him."

"What?" Barry winced and held the phone away from his ear. "That bastard! I'll… I'll kill him! Why didn't you kill him!"

He brought the phone back to his ear. "I'd love to, Jill, but that guy has a habit of… not dying when I shoot him. Besides, I'd go to prison if I did that."

Jill was about to say something, but the prison alarms went off, causing Barry to jump from his seat. The door to his office slammed open and CO McGrady poked his head in.

"Barry, it's Wesker! He's trying to escape."

"Ah hell!" Barry turned to speak into the phone. "I gotta go Jill. I'll see you at Thanksgiving!"

Barry hung up, grabbed his hat and rushed out the door.

He had a bad feeling about this.


To Be Continued… In Wesker Behind Bars! (Part Two)