Outtake #6: Stab
"Ironic, isn't it? For one who has the right to be a god! To face his own mortality..."
Spencer coughed, feebly getting to his feet. On shaking legs he stood, looking Wesker in the eye.
"The right to become a god is now mine." Wesker stated in his cold, impassioned voice. Then with a superhuman strength he stabbed Spencer with his hand, sending blood spurting everywhere. He then withdrew his hand, sending Spencer's body tumbling to the ground.
At first Wesker had that feeling of grim satisfaction that he always had when he had done the dirty deed. But then, a flash of lightning illuminated the air, and he noticed that Spencer's blood was spattered all over his clothes.
"Fuck!" he muttered loudly. "That was my favorite jacket too. Now I have to go to the dry-cleaner's place and they'll get suspicious like they did the time I came back from the Mansion..."
He tried to pat off the excess blood as best as he could, but then he remembered that he had gotten blood all over his right hand. He had been smearing with Spencer's blood even more.
"Looks like this form of murder isn't as badass as I actually thought," he concluded to himself as he finally stopped trying to solve the problem all together. Besides, it wasn't like anyone besides the dry-cleaners would know about this anyway. Hopefully the suit wasn't ruined. If it was...well, he didn't know how he would take it out on those dry-cleaners then.
"At least he didn't touch the hair. Nobody touches the hair."
And with that he took out a comb and a can of mousse, reminding himself to use his left hand this time.
Wesker's hair is always perfect, no matter what. Even when he's running so fast he's teleporting, or when he falls into a volcano and loses his shirt in the process, the hair is ALWAYS intact. All hail the hair!