Resident Evil: Code Genesis
Disclaimer: For once in a while, I'm writing this for two of the greatest Albert Wesker fans I've met: Wesker's Countess and Madam Wesker of DeviantArt. All three of us wish for a sequel where Wesker returns. Honestly, is it Resident Evil without the guy? He MADE the series. I can accept his death, but I don't have to like it. So, for your reading pleasure, I create a story featuring his utter return. This is for fans, not to be taken too literally.
"Change is the constant, the signal for rebirth, the egg of the phoenix."
-Christina Baldwin
"Life, death, and rebirth are inevitable."
-Rig Veda
By: VampireQueenAkasha
"Sure I'm not human anymore! But LOOK at the power I've obtained!"
-Wesker, Code Veronica
Chapter Thirty-Six: Intensive Care I
Fox Island, Mississippi
Human-shaped shadows danced around Rose's immobile form, whispering quietly to one another, cautious about the strange woman. After a few seconds of silent contemplation, one of them spoke. They seemed wary and secretive as they analyzed the woman at their feet. The area was dangerous for them and being out here even during the day could run the risk of meeting unsavory creatures.
A shadow loomed over Rose, reaching out and touching two fingers to her throat to check for a pulse. "Hurry, get her back to the house..." a male voice whispered, carefully.
After a few minutes of silence, two sets of arms circled around Rose's shoulders and lifted her up out of the dampened earth, hoisting her onto two shoulders of men dressed in black, leather coats. They grunted as they hurried off into the trees toward a pickup truck; it was reinforced into a battle machine with a hood scoop welded to the front, spikes on the hub caps of the tires, grates on the windows and bottles of yelloish fluid wrapped up in the bed. The two men placed Rose into the bed and quickly rushed to get moving.
Rose's body bounced slightly as the truck pulled away into the swamps and further away from finding her friends.
The truck stopped in front of an electrified gate and fence. The driver honked his horn three times and after a long moment, the gates clicked and squeaked open, allowing them passage inside.
The fence traveled all around Fox Island, with the sole purpose of keeping the undead out. There was a large house that stood in size to several smaller houses around it. Small children were playing outside of their houses and their parents were keeping a close watch over them, hanging off of their porch banisters and resting on steps. There were also two - - no, three - - great Doberman Pincher hounds chained up on each house, ears at attention and nostrils high in the air.
And almost everyone held a weapon in hand.
At the sight of the pickup truck pulling in, the people seemed to react with delighted expressions. One in particular was an older woman who appeared to be in her early 60's, dressed in full hiking equipment and built pretty good for her age. This was Alma Gahns Her hair was cut short around her cheeks and lengthy around her dull, black eyes. Although aged, she gave off the appearance of being a kind woman.
"Boys!" she called, her voice rough from years of smoking, "I thought you'd never get home!"
The two men in the pickup truck and the one crouched on the truck's bed hopped down as soon as the vehicle stopped, smiling at her. They were her three sons, Alan, Caleb and Mark Gahns; battling the undead for such a short time and even prior to the apocalypse had left them equally muscular and toned from their former jobs as dock workers. All that heavy lifting of crates and bags had been worthy enough 'training' for them to take on the horrors that waited just outside those electrified gates.
Alan was the oldest of the three and even though they were equal in almost every way, he almost always spoke up before the other two. He was the brains behind the three and the command as well. The other two usually didn't complain about that as much, usually more concerned about getting the job done rather than who was in charge of it.
Alan had short brown hair and blue eyes, wearing tattered blue jeans and a ratty tank top beneath a black outback jacket. He had a scar over his cheek and one of his fingers was missing. He had lost it when he started his job at the docks; being a novice, he had gotten it caught up in one of the machines and had to have it removed. Not his brightest day, but he quickly adapted with having only four fingers on his good working hand.
Caleb was the next to the youngest of the three brothers. He resembled Alan in hair color and length, except he was a head shorter and had dark brown eyes that almost looked black. He wore a pair of tan cargo pants and a denim jacket with the sleeves rolled up over a white, stained t - shirt; he had a gun holster and belt around his chest and waist also. Caleb was the most quiet of the three Gahns brothers and rarely spoke except when he absolutely needed to. Caleb believed it work over friendship and that seemed to go well for him in life. He was an intimidating looking young man and no one enjoyed being in a room alone with him.
Mark was the youngest of them and also very quiet. He attempted to start up conversation, but despite his rugged appearance, he was actually a very shy young man. He had long brown hair that ended at his shoulders, sharp blue eyes. He had a bandana around his forehead, a loop of ammunition around his torso and he wore a black outback jacket similar to Alan's. His pants were ripped and his boots covered in muddy splotches.
"Mom, we found someone out by the river's edge," Alan told Alma - - his mother - - before looking back at his truck, "She doesn't look too good. From the looks of her wounds, I think she got into a tussle from one of those escaped crocs."
Alma's smile melted away, concerned now for the fallen woman in their pickup. She walked around to the bed and Mark immediately pulled the door down so that she could climb up into it. She knelt before Rose's limp form and reached out to touch the wounds on her arm. As soon as her flesh contacted Rose's, the torn vessels and shattered bones began to move; literally move as if they had a will of their own. Alma's eyes grew wide as she watched the fleshy, calcium filaments wriggle slightly, making sickening sticky sounds. The bones began to slowly stitch back together and the muscles overlapping one another as the regeneration process slowly began.
"Oh God ... " Alma whispered, haunted.
"Mom?" Mark said, "What is it?"
Alma quickly covered Rose's would with her jacket and turned to the boy. "Tell the others to get any medicine, food and water that they can," she ordered, "Meet up at Oluchi's house in 2 hours." She looked back down at Rose and smiled lightly. There was a knowledge and intensity in the old woman that went over the heads of her sons. "This one will have quite a story to tell us, I'm sure."
O
"Hurry! She's waking up!"
"Step back a bit, give the girl some room!"
"Aww, come on!"
"She needs to breathe! Poor thing's been through hell, so don't bother her."
There were so many unfamiliar voices around her. Rose wasn't too sure who the talking blobs were as her vision slowly came into focus. There were many faces staring down at her of every size, shape and color, ones she didn't recognize and a room that reminded her of the small shacks that could have been something from a summer camp. She blinked a bit, fighting off the dizziness that she felt to try and get some of her senses back.
"Ugh ... Where ... Where am I?" she mumbled.
"You are on Fox Island in Mississipi," Alma told her, smiling gently, "My boys pulled you up out of the water. You were in pretty bad shape but you ... " She cut herself off and decided not to let the others know just who she was and risk frightening them all. After all, Oluchi would have a perfect idea and he would share it with them in a way that would ease their already troubled minds.
Two little boys were watching her and grinned. One of them poked Rose's cheek and tilted his head with fascination. He seemed to be interested in her eyes and why they were the way they were. Rose flinched at the touch and uttered a weak grunt of pain. She felt sensitive all over and every bone in her body ached from wrestling the crocodile.
Alma took the boy's hand and scowled down at him. "It's rude to point, Jeremy!" she barked.
Rose managed to smile and held up one hand. "No, no, it's okay," she assured her, in a weary whisper, "He's not bothering me." She met the boy - - Jeremy's - - gaze. "I'm just really sore from wrestling a crocodile. I think I even swallowed some of its blood ... "
Jeremy's eyes grew wide in amazement and immediately, so did the other child's. "Whoa!" he gasped, "How was it?"
Rose flashed a grin now. "VERY bitter and a little bit like stale vegetable juice," she joked, "I wouldn't recommend it."
The two boys looked at each other and giggled at the joke. Alma pushed them off of the side of the bed that Rose laid in. "Alright now you little vultures!" she barked, "Go and get back to your folks before I take my foot to your tails!"
They took off, squealing and the others in the room seemed to hesitate, whispering to one another about what they saw in the woman laying there. Her eyes had frightened them somewhat and they didn't know exactly what to make of her. Was she the enemy? Was she a mutation of some kind? They didn't know entirely until Alma and Oluchi would figure it out.
"Hey! You guys should hurry up and get Oluchi here!" Alma told them, sternly. "Don't worry about her. She ain't gonna bite ya'." After considering what she had just said, she looked over at Rose with a bit of caution. "You won't bite, right?"
Rose looked a little insulted. "No."
Alma smiled and it seemed to Rose that she was trying to convince her friends that she wouldn't hurt them. She was a nice old woman considering she didn't even know a thing about her. Rose found herself liking her already. She watched the other people inside the room slowly disband and struggled into a sitting position. As soon as she moved, Alma immediately stepped to her side.
"Hon, I suggest you get some rest," she advised, "Even though you healed a good bit of it, your body hasn't fully recovered."
Rose stared at her, frowning. "How'd - - "
"It's okay, dear," Alma assured her, smiling tenderly, "Oluchi is a good friend of mine. Got me a damn good job when I lost mine at Umbrella after the company's fall. I know what I see." She patted Rose on the back and felt the woman tense up. "But it's okay. I'm clean. You have nothing to worry about with me." She inhaled and looked up, her eyes focusing somewhere into the past. "It was hard doing what I did, even if it was just a small time job. It was even harder escaping that life and dodging the head hunters of the corporation, but Oluchi helped me and I'm pretty sure that he can help you."
Rose knew that she had to meet this Oluchi now. Hopefully, this woman was right and he could help her. But then again, he could also be working for Spencer and everyone here not even realize it. Whatever the case was, she'd have to be on her guard and find a way to get back to her friends again.
El Dorado, Arkansas
BSAA Headquarters
The small headquarters was erupting with activity and chaos as everyone struggled to trace the signal from the strange broadcast. Ivan and his comrades followed Claire and Leon, inquiring about just what they would do in this situation.
"I don't know what to tell you guys." Claire told Ivan, "It looks like once we track down this asshole, we're gonna take him out."
Ivan shook his head and looked at her gravely. "Do not," he said, softly, "Is what he wants ... "
Claire chuckled. "Well, then we're gonna give him what he wants."
Ivan glanced both ways, making sure no one could hear before he leaned in close to her, whispering. "Spencer is clever..." he whispered, warily, "He calls for us to come, but we resist. We can't resist it for long."
Claire's brow furrowed in deep thought and watched as Leon ducked into a restroom, checking each and every stall before he removed his PDA and watched the small hourglass appear before Ingrid Hunningan's features lit the screen.
"Leon. How ya' holding up?" she asked.
He raised a brow. "Bad question, Hunningan."
She smiled sympathetically. "Sorry to hear that ... " she replied,
Leon looked up, listening to voices outside of the bathroom before he spoke. "Hunnigan, I have some bad news," he told her, "I've received confirmation regarding Project W. Looks like Ada's tip was right after all."
"Leon, you have to get out of there..." Hunningan whispered, glancing over her shoulder for a brief moment, "It's become difficult over here. Ben and I are hiding out in the van, but we can't stay in one place too long. Whatever you can dig up will help a lot."
Leon looked a little concerned. "You're okay though, right?"
She nodded her head, a tired look crossing her features for a brief second. "I'm fine," she answered, "There was a male civilian here who had some useful information about an Umbrella base located somewhere in Louisiana. According to him, it could have some information for us. He's a little bit of a shady older fellow. Maybe you can get the BSAA to check it out. I'll send coordinates as soon as I can."
Leon nodded. "Alright, take care of yourself, Hunningan," he said, "I'll keep in touch. You do the same." He clicked the PDA off and turned in time to see Claire standing there. "Claire."
She folded her arms across her chest and walked over to him, her brows raised. "Leon. Are you going to trust me enough to fill me in on your little plan?" she asked.
He sighed. "I wish I could, Claire," he told her, "But it's not a matter of trust, it's a matter of safety."
"I hardly think it matters anymore," she pointed out, skeptically, "We need to know anything that we can to fix what has happened. Ivan's been worried about something, something regarding Project W." She paused and shook her head, trying to sound realistic. "He's afraid that he won't be able to resist some 'call' or something."
Leon looked thoughful for a moment, murmuring once before he stepped out of the bathroom with Claire following behind. They passed Chris, who was carrying an open laptop in his arms. Jill slowly joined his side. On the tiny screen was Josh and Sheva moved around in the background, talking to someone that they couldn't see.
"It's become a real mess over here at the African Branch, Chris," Josh told him, "But I think I managed to scrap up some useful information about this Rose Bedford and the part that she plays in all of this."
Chris looked particularly relieved. Best news he heard all day.
"Go ahead."
Josh typed a few keys and brought up another screen, covering his face. It looked like an older Umbrella transfer document. As far as Chris could tell, it was listing a few names and numbers of possible test subjects to be transferred to particular places around the world. Rose's name was there as well, but there was a large CANCELLED stamp right in front of it.
"Rose Bedford's name is on the list," Josh said, "She was scheduled for transfer 20 years ago to Umbrella's European Branch, but it was cancelled. It took a while to dig up the old files, but it states in a memo here that she was taken to live in Atlantic City instead. She would have been 2 years old by then. Here, read this."
He brought up another image. This one was of an official fax paper that was originally sent to Ozwell E. Spencer.
Date: Sep. 18, 1987
To: Raccoon City Umbrella Division
Attn: Manager of Facilities
From: Atlantic City Research Department
Test subject: BEDFORD, L. ROSE Age: 2 DOB: 1985
Admission date: 2/17/87 Attending Physician: ALEX W.
3/14 22:00 Administered Virus: Type-B
NO VISIBLE SIGNS OF MUTATION
Plasmolyzing of tissue during cell activation.
Virus fusion: Positive but delayed fusion.
Body modification: Observed constant results.
Status: Continue protective observation.
The contents of this fax are confidential and intended for the named addressee only. Any copying, or disclosure of the contents of this fax to any third party is strictly forbidden by the sender. After reading the contents of this fax, must be destroyed immediately.
Sept. 18th 1987
Time is not of the essence, you realize as Albert's observation must continue as well. Close observation is necessary under a third party eye for Rose Lenore Bedford, notably Charles Bedford, who has taken interest in the child. He had to have some regard for her, given that she had received his surname in the process.
I suggest, with your permission that Charles assume the role of her father for now, allow for her to adapt to a normal society like the other subjects had with everything that she will need upon adulthood.
Her body has counteracted the injections, which may have positive results for the future. I do, however question the chipping procedure that you had suggested. But perhaps there could be a plus to it.
Chris gave Jill a strange look before Josh removed the image from the screen. His features looked grim and somewhat exhausted.
"It does not stop there, Chris," he told him, "I discovered another fax from this Alex W. It regards the satellite and Project Genesis." He turned to his other console and began to type in more keys. "Spencer and Alex both had some documents written up about their plan. Take a look at this." And with that, he brought up a new image of a document that almost looked like a letter. A handwritten one by Spencer. Chris could tell that his handwriting had gotten a little terrible since he had seen his memoirs written at the mansion a long time ago.
I have done everything Alex has asked of me.
Alex's ingenuity far surpasses those of normal people.
We wait for the appropriate time, gather the necessary
materials, and Alex continues to keep the operation
running smoothly.
Most children are held back by the limits of their own
intellect, but not with Alex. I've never witnessed
anyone so adept at absorbing the talents of others simply by
observing them.
I could not be more pleased. Alex displays superior
quantities to everyone else.
I've provided everything Alex and the other researchers
would need to conduct their research; unlimited funding,
top-of-the-line equipment, research materials, and an
endless supply of test subjects. The only thing wanting
is time.
He tells me that all that needs to come to pass is for Albert and
Rose to meet one another and assume the roles that they are
destined to play: The mother and father of my new world with me as
their God. Hm. Even Albert as king would have no other choice
but to kneel to me.
Rose is almost the perfect woman in every way; she possesses the intellect
that would make Einstein himself shudder. Alex tells me that she has not
suffered illnesses of any kind, no physical flaws and she has almost perfect
cellular structure; an excellent tool for breeding my perfect children.
I laugh out loud, in spite of myself when I consider how perfect she would be
for Albert. Of course, he would have to accept her first.
Once Alex tests the samples of his blood, we will see for sure of she
can receive the injection. As soon as Alex makes an improvement to the
virus, the team administers it to another batch of test subjects,
Unfortunately, they do not have time to study the virus
before testing it. If it looks feasible, they proceed
forward and see how the test subjects react to it.
All of this is to be expected I suppose. It's not Alex's
fault.
I waited in earnest for good tidings of their research.
Instead I received only a phone call a month later asking
me to send more test subjects. How was it possible that
they had gone through hundreds of test subjects in only
a month?
As my frustration rose, Alex attempted to reassure me.
"You'll be pleased to hear that all experiments are
running smoothly."
And so I continue to wait ...
"It is a real problem," Josh said, interrupting Chris before he could finish, "You have already met this Rose Bedford on the road, haven't you?"
Chris nodded, frowning. "Yeah, but she and Wesker weren't exactly enjoying each other's company. I don't think that we have to worry about them making any children any time soon."
"We cannot be too certain, Chris," Josh told him, "We have to be absolutely sure. A child from two beings like that could bring danger to us all. We have to prevent this from happening."
And just how did he expect Chris to do that?
Fox Island, Mississipi
Rose finally found the strength to walk out of that cramped, depressing room. She wandered around the outside, observing her surroundings. It reminded her a lot of summer camp now that she had gotten a good look. The electric fence was a strange touch, but she had a suspicion that she knew why it was there in the first place. Everyone seemed wary and cautious of her and attempted to hide their stares when she wound look at them.
"They seem friendly," she murmured, glancing over at Alma.
"Ah, don't worry too much about them," Alma answered, "When we take in strays, sometimes they try to bite the hand that feeds 'em, if you catch my drift." She led Rose toward the largest house situated at the center of the island.
Rose nodded in acknowledgement. Well, that would give them any good reason to be afraid of her.
"Well, who do I talk to?" she asked, "Who's this Oluchi you keep mentioning?"
Alma smiled and didn't look at her. "You'll see."
She walked into the house - - the door was open - - and Rose followed her. There was a heavy smell of burning incense and oils in the air and she could even make out a stale, salty smell as well. There were various crates and boxes of food and ammunition lying against the walls. There were even a few boxes of weapons of every shape and size. Wow, these people sure had a lot of goods with them. They had to have prepared for the coming apocalypse and even more, known about it. But then again, this woman had been an Umbrella employee so that didn't surprise her.
"Oluchi?" Alma called, stepping into the living room.
Rose noticed that no one was here and she couldn't resist looking around the expansive living room. The windows were covered with thin, white curtains and there were piles upon piles of books everywhere, some lying open to specific pages. There was a thick bear-skin rug and a few deer-head trophies lining the walls. A fire crackled in a cherry oak fireplace.
Alma caught that look and smiled sheepishly. "Yes, it's quite messy in here," she said, "Oluchi just picks up a book and can never put it down once he starts reading it." She hesitated before she disappeared down the hall to find this man called Oluchi.
Rose watched her go before she approached the roaring fire and raised her hands to it. She shut her eyes and exhaled with contentment. That felt amazing against her skin. For a brief moment, she relished the feeling until a memory of her burning house and Kirk's burning body snapped through her head. Her eyes opened rapidly with a quick gasp and she backed away from the fireplace.
"You look upset ... "
Rose turned at the deep, kind voice and came face-to-face with a man sitting in a wheelchair. He was an African American gentleman with short hair and gentle green eyes. She had to keep her gaze to his face to prevent herself from staring because he had no legs. They ended at stubs at the knees. The chair that he sat in looked very old, bits of dirt and mud stuck in them.
"Um ... hi," Rose greeted, "You must be Oluchi."
He smiled and nodded. "I am." After a moment he reached out one hand for her to shake. "Oluchi Yeboah. Hail from West Africa."
Now that he spoke, Rose did notice the accent in his voice. She shook his hand and cocked her head. There was something about him that she couldn't quite put her finger on, but she decided that she already like him too. He was kind in his approach and very polite. This was just something that she was not all too accustomed to these days.
"I'm Rose ... " she began.
"I know who you are," Oluchi interrupted. He chuckled, embarrassed by his rudeness and retracted his hand from hers. "Forgive me. It's not proper to interrupt a lady when she is speaking. I was just so thrilled to hear that you have finally come."
Rose frowned thoughtfully. "How do you know about me?"
Oluchi wheeled himself toward the flames to get warm. "Now that is a loaded question, Miss Bedford," he murmured, smiling gently, "No matter how I answer you, you would find my view to be very ... disturbing and almost a means of a threat to your existence, won't you?"
Rose tried not to make it too obvious, but yeah, she would have found it a trifle uncertain. After all, how many people had she run into so far who knew her name and everything about her who had it in them to kill her? Oluchi faced her and she smiled weakly, trying not to make what he had just said so very obvious that it was the truth.
"Well ... you could just explain and we'll try and go from there," Rose offered, leaning back a bit.
Oluchi tilted his head a bit, wondering what to think of that answer before he spoke. "You have come across many Wesker's in your journey, haven't you?" he asked, turning in his wheelchair to roll over toward his piles of books.
"Um. Yeah, we have."
Oluchi smiled and took a book, paging through it without looking at her. "Well, you can go ahead and add another one to your list, today, Miss Bedford," he told her, "I am Oluchi Yeboah, the African Wesker child."
Rose's brows went up slightly and she watched as he turned to face her. She licked her lips before speaking. "Uh ... What happened to your ... ?" she began, gesturing vaguely to her own legs, trying to make it seem not as rude as she could.
Oluchi glanced down at his own legs for a brief, silent moment before he looked up at her. "Come ... Follow me." he said, rolling out of the room and into the hallway.
Rose slowly followed behind him down the hallway.
"I was just a little boy, a ripe age of 12 years," Oluchi began, "My doctor had told me that it was a flu shot, to keep me healthy. I don't recall his name, however, but I think he was called ... Alex."
Rose furrowed her brow. She considered the name for a second before she looked at him with surprise. "Wait ... I had a doctor named Alex when I was a little girl as well!" she exclaimed, "Do you think that there's some kind of weird connection or something?"
Oluchi smiled. "I do." He pulled into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door to retrieve a glass bottle of yellow lemonade. He offered one to Rose and she took it without hesitation. "You see, Miss Bedford, I had grown up receiving these shots and it looked to be a great thing for me. I never got sick and I was as healthy as a horse - - pardon the pun. Years went by and I soon fell ill. After months of being cast to my bed, my legs had begun to fail me. Eventually, I had to have them amputated and I was confined to a wheelchair." He chuckled, as if it didn't bother him in the slightest. "But that would never stop me from wanting to go the distance."
Rose lightly smiled. So he was a good man after all. Maybe he could help her.
O
Note- The letter that Spencer had written was based off of his memoirs from the fifth game that I edited a bit.