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Day 75
"You detest Ms. Sherawat."
Detest sounds too strong. Dislike alone comes short.
"Why?" Wesker asks, flips a page of a magazine on luxury cars.
Her throat constricts, forced to talk. She swallows the lobster roll she's been chewing.
"Chris slept with her."
She's confused by her own answer. So shallow. She was sure she had forgiven Chris's lapse in judgement.
"Was it before or after Queen Zenobia?"
"Before."
It was one time.
Chris had always been loyal.
They fought. He fucked the next female throwing herself at him.
It was nothing.
Wesker peers at her over his sunglasses. She sees the amusement in his eyes.
"Jealousy is always evil."
Day 55
She remembers doing it before.
Legs splayed open on his desk. Full weight on one elbow. Lower back sticking on the wood. She remembers a sort of thrill in her young, plucked straight out of the Army days.
He's entertained with how she becomes wet then wetter, he says.
Something presses into her back this time. A small lever. A button or two of the control panel here and there. She eyes the slab in the center of the room. Why not there? He can examine her better then.
One of his fingers slips into her pussy along with two of hers. He tugs and stretches her slick skin.
He pulls out the moment she's completely out of breath, her digits numb and wrinkled.
Wesker brings his fingers to his lips, savors her flavor.
She ignores the clenching in her abdomen.
Day 35
"Do not rest."
"Keep moving."
"Ineffective."
His voice digs into her insides, like steel scraping over her bones searching for the marrow.
"Stop." Her arms automatically fall on her sides. Her fighting spirit gutted with a single word. The large black bag twirls before her eyes, repeatedly beaten but still standing, so much like her. "Get on the range."
Sweat soaks her clothes, makes them stick on her skin like wet paper. Her chest feels tight as she steps infront of an assortment of rifles.
Her mind's exhausted. But her body's not.
"ACR." He instructs and before she could fully process it inside her head, her hand already finds itself around a camel-colored grip.
"Ensure you rid all of the targets this time."
He's a ghost haunting every waking moment, a ghost possessing her.
Day 55
Jill slumps over his shoulder, panting and sweating. He's softening inside of her.
She shivers, feels the all too warm sensation spreading over her limbs.
He's touching her. Hands mapping her skin. He palms a heavy breast, tweaks an erect nipple. He gropes her hip, her ass.
He keeps on touching her.
She pulls herself close, unconsciously grinds her used cunt over his undone pants.
He stands from the swivel chair, soft cock sliding out, thick seed following suit. The entirety of her tightens, chases the loss.
He carries her out of the laboratory and to who knows where. She falls asleep with the rhythm of his steps.
Day 05
"Why are you doing this?" She asks during a light meal, white thin fingers grasping a cheddar square.
Her eyes bore into him, memorizing the confidence and impatience permeating his stance.
"Have you always wanted this?" She notices the way he crosses his legs, gloved hands folding on his lap.
She notices the way he guards himself.
Her stare shifts to the plate of half-eaten crackers.
"Have you always wanted to play the villain?"
She hears a 'no', believes it's nothing but her drug-addled imagination.
Day 95
"I'm not the one at fault." He whispers in the dark, whispers on the afterglow covering her skin. "This world is."
Her fingers run into his ruffled hair, tug until the short strands stick in weird directions, smooth until they fall over his snake eyes.
"It created me."
"It's my turn to recreate it."
He props himself on his elbow, eyes the decorative scarab on her naked chest. His finger traces over the delicate wires scarring her skin. He soon places his palm over the jewel, works his fingers around the plate.
He gives it a good tug, tests its depth and build.
The wires groan and she writhes in sudden pain.
"Will you not try to change my mind?"
"No."