9 1/2 days
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Capcom. But oh how I wish Wesker belonged to me.
Day 1 (continued II)
Krauser looked very displeased but tried to flash Claire his toothiest and most intimidating grin as he noisily pulled a stool off the wall to take a seat in front of the lab's door. The stool's rubber feet screeched loudly over the floor's surface in protest. Claire cringed inwardly for it sounded like a piece of ill-tempered chalk slowly being pulled across a blackboard, but she managed to show no sign of her discomfort.
He leaned heavily against the seat's back, crossed his ridiculously muscular arms, laid one heavily booted foot on top of his other knee and repeated the same with the other leg. Sitting in the lotus position, Krauser wasn't fazed at all when Claire glared daggers at him and crossed her arms in return, slowly sliding down to the floor with her back to the wall across from him whilst making a drawn out, squeaky, rubbery noise not unlike the one Krauser had made when dragging the stool. His grin faltered for a moment, but then his smug sneer was back in place; despite that, she felt strangely satisfied with her attempt at annoying him as much as he tried to piss her off.
The redhead sourly considered her meager options in this tense situation. She could forget about buying Christmas presents for Jill, Leon and Albie dearest for now, that much was clear. No super-duper Christmas cookie baking contest with Jill either – at least not any time soon. Not unless Wesker decided to be uncharacteristically generous and let her use his kitchen – yeah right! - but that was truly out of the question at the moment.
And what about getting out of here? Scrunching up her nose deep in thought she absent-mindedly touched the tip of her nose with her nimble, flexible tongue – a mannerism that could only be seen on her on very rare occasions - such as when she had spent too much of her money on a shopping spree and needed to locate and fish for any leftover quarters or dimes stuck in between her sofa cushions.
Alright, let's see…
There were only 3 heroic fools who could have potentially freed her from her current imprisonment – Chris, Steve (who was much closer than she thought) and Leon.
Chris, being the loyal but dense big brother that he was, was completely oblivious of her situation, believing her to be in the safety of her comfy home, wrapped up in preparations for the holidays.
Steve Burnside was still safely stashed away inside a giant clear ice cube, like a stone-age insect frozen in time in an oversized rubik's cube of golden shimmery amber. He would remain huddled against viral samples and Petri dishes in the back of Wesker's lab refrigerator for a long time to come, right behind Excella's cucumber facial mask, Ada's supply of Brazilian wax and a couple of bottles of cold beer ("Mercenary's Delight", Krauser's favourite brand).
And Leon? Last thing she heard he was still desperately trying to track down that cheeky Ganado who stole his stylish leather jacket back in Spain. She suspected that she wouldn't be able to count on being heroically rescued by him any time soon for that reason alone; after all it had been Leon's pet jacket even though it smelled of wet dog every time it got humid , thanks to the fur trimmed collar. For years to come, Claire would always fondly think of Leon when smelling drenched puppies. She sighed dreamily.
Meanwhile, blessed with ignorance about the most recent development in Claire's life and thousands and thousands of miles away, somewhere in a forest in Spain near a now deserted small village, Leon had run into some trouble on his hunt for the thieving zombie.
He found himself camping in the ass-end of nowhere - still following the tracks of the jacket thief by his permeating scent of wet dog alone (it had been raining all day) - when he noticed that he had run out of that expensive 'mane' shampoo that made his hair so bouncy and silky. He sadly shook his head in a poor attempt at letting his full, dirty blond hair fly, but the rain had soaked him to the bone and the wet strands remained glued to his skull.
He was incredibly upset about that. What would Ada say if they crossed paths and he looked like he hadn't properly washed his hair in a while? The mere thought sent visible shivers down his spine. Unthinkable!
Angrily he kicked a small unsuspecting pebble away with his foot and dropped his backpack on a much larger rock by the side of the small path leading through the woods. He flopped down on the stony, uncomfortable seating right next to his bag.
What next? Unsure of what to do he frowned deep in thought. Leon felt insecure and naked without his precious brand shampoo. It always left his hair so glossy and perfect that even Claire couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy every time he threw his head back to get his hair out of his face whenever they crossed paths, even if it was only to give her a better look at his green puppy dog eyes.
That was only one of the reasons why Claire adored Leon but never could keep him around for an extended period of time, for she always ended up envying him for his effortless manly beauty. He gladly would have passed along his ample knowledge on how to keep up a perfectly groomed appearance in even the most extremes of battles, but neither was Claire anywhere close to him right now, nor did he know of her secret shame – her nagging mane envy.
It was better this way. As Claire had had to learn a long time ago, his gorgeousness was best enjoyed in small doses, for it seemed to attract the attention of certain red-clad spies. Too bad that only Leon welcomed that fact.
Still, all of this didn't help solving the issue at hand. Would he end up wearing a mullet if he couldn't find that sneaky Ganado soon and had to wander through the forests for much longer? He shuddered violently. No! Not him! Never!
Hell-bent and optimistic on finding a drugstore somewhere nearby in the middle of nowhere that would carry his most needful and beloved grooming product, he got up dusting his hands off on the sides of his snug fitting pants that displayed his buttocks in the most flattering way. Flexing his tired muscles, he finished his much needed little moping break and sighed, looking grimly ahead towards the overflowing green thicket in front of him. He would find one, even if it was going to be the death of him, that much was sure.
With a determined look on his face, he marched off into the leafy maze in front of him. Too bad he had missed the oversized, blinking neon sign right behind his back that pointed towards the next drugstore which happened to be right behind the overgrown bush to his left.
Being stirred out of her blissful daydreaming by Krauser's melodic snoring in E minor, her thoughts only lingered for another split-second on the incredibly dangerous and exciting adventures her well-coiffed friend Leon was probably experiencing while she was locked away as Wesker's pawn. She sighed wistfully and got up from the floor, slipping inelegantly in the process on a small pool that had formed under Krauser's seat from the drool dribbling slowly from the corner of his mouth. She hit her head hard on the lamp protruding from the wall behind her. Krauser didn't even flinch in his sweet slumber, but Claire did while cursing in her most colorful ways to date.
Silently she wished a pumpkin sized pimple on the ass of whoever had thought that having a lamp on that wall would be a splendid idea and rubbed the back of her head. The shock of her head hitting the hard metal of the lamp had temporarily fixed the loose contact inside the lamp – and the one inside her head - and in both cases, the lights came on.
In that moment, Claire realized something. So Leon was out of the picture as well for the time being. What a drag. This time, no one was going to come to her rescue.
Time to help yourself, Claire. You can do it! If you can survive Wesker, you can survive anything. I mean, how much worse can it get? Chris will be so proud if he finds out that I held my head high while being captured.
Yes, she was going to show them all where to stick it! Yes, there and in a few other rude places. She would prove it to Wesker, Chris, everyone.
She smiled impishly.
After all, what could go wrong?
Just about everything, as she would soon find out.
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