"Albert, would you be a dear and get me another glass of wine?"

Playing with his toy cars near where his mother was lounging by the pool, Albert Wesker looked up to see an extended arm holding out a nearly empty wine glass. Knowing what would come of him if he disobeyed, he set his toys down and grabbed the glass.

"Red or white, mom?" He asked, peering blankly into the sunglasses she wore. Although he couldn't see her eyes, he knew they were closed. Dozing with wine in her hand was Cynthia Wesker's favorite past time, and her bikini clad figure showed no sign that she was a day over 40.

"Red, please." As Albert walked towards the house, he heard her call out, "And a biscotti, if you will!"

He never knew why she prefered to dip biscotti in wine rather than coffee. He shuttered at how it must taste.

The decadent Spanish manor the Wesker family owned was just outside of Raccoon City, a small town in a valley of the Rocky mountains. Albert had lived there, in the northeast suburbs, his whole life. Mom, dad, and no siblings to be heard of.

Albert didn't mind the lack of attention from his mother, but wouldn't mind a brother to play with. His father, however, gave him all the attention in the world, after he got home from his horticulture specialist job at the Raccoon Zoo. Not only did he teach Albert everything, but from time to time they'd work on cars together or even practice at the shooting range. An eight year old shooting a gun oftentimes rewarded him with strange looks, and glares towards his father.

The Weskers knew their only child was wise way beyond his years. They offered him only the best education, which Albert accepted with an open heart and an open mind. Soon enough, they thought, he would be smarter than both of them combined, if that wasn't already the case.

Reaching the basement door, Wesker ascended down the stairs to their wine cellar, separate from their main basement. Of course, their collection of wines ranged from a measly thousand dollars to more exquisite ones retailing at hundreds of thousands of dollars. The expensive ones were housed in the far, dark corner of the basement; Albert made his way there, figuring his mother was drinking her favorite blend of Cabernet.

He set the glass on the bar next to the shelf of expensive red wines. He grabbed the Cabernet, one which Albert knew if he spilt just one drop he'd get a belt to the ass, and began pouring it carefully. A small sparkle of light shone off something behind the bar, catching his attention. Once he was finished pouring, he corked the wine and put it back in its place.

It was a tiny little brass handle, he soon came to find, and he set the glass aside to move the bar. It was heavy; he took several minutes shoving it away and he knew his mother was impatiently, and likely suspicious, waiting for her drink. Once curiosity hit the boy, it was impossible to peel him away.

Albert reached for the handle, but whatever it was, it seemed nailed shut. Upon further inspection, without finding any nails or staples, he gave it a few quick yanks, the drawer creaking open on the third try.

Except it wasn't a drawer as Albert expected. Inside of the door there was a tiny room, impossible to see the contents in the dimly lit basement. Albert was able to crawl inside, and hit his head as he tried to stand. Staying on his knees, he aimlessly palmed the sides for some sort of light switch.

In the middle of the room he knocked his head on something hard. Finding a small string, he tugged it and a shoddy, warn light bulb illuminated the compat crawlspace. Alas, Albert's curiosity reached peak level when only one small file cabinet sat at the end. Quickly crawling towards it, he gently opened the single drawer and gazed at the contents.

Inside were seemingly useless files, Albert rifling through them until coming across a folder entitled with his own name. Eyes bugged out of his head, he expected to find something boring, like school records. What he found was so much greater, and as he divulged deeper, more and more questions started arising.

Albert Wesker

CONFIDENTIAL

Gender: Male

Birth Name: [REDACTED]

Birthplace: Akron, Ohio

Relocation Place: Raccoon City, Colorado

Birth Date: April 20, 1960

Relocation Date: April 27, 1960

Birth Parents: [REDACTED]

Assigned Parents: Cynthia and Tom Brutran

Notes: Albert has shown great promise over the other children, growing at an exponentially higher rate than all the other Wesker children. I expect him to join us at Umbrella at a fairly young age. He is to be given the best care and education available, and kept in the nearby town Raccoon City. Under no circumstance are his birth parents able to contact him, and/or told about the Wesker Project. It's best we keep the boy in the dark as well.

-Oswell Spencer, 1970

Albert flipped feverishly through the rest of the pages, only coming across several paragraphs of more redacted content. He made a mess of the rest of the files in the drawer, his questions hauntingly unanswered.

For years to come, Albert's confusion grew, as his did anger. He stayed quiet about the little room he found in the basement, but surely his attitude changed. The Weskers wondered why their son suddenly had more outbursts, but a newfound power to learn.

W/N: I have a feeling this chapter is slightly unfinished. I'll probably add more to the file that Wesker found. This is one of those chapters I conjured out of thin air (opposed to writing it on paper first) and I had to write some of it over again because it didn't save -slap!-