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 Forty-Nine: Blacken Sabbath

Raccoon City, Colorado

Rose and Wesker found themselves inside Alex's office, facing his security screens that he had been looking at not too long ago. There was quite a lot going on in each screen; Chris and Claire were carefully moving their way through the main lobby of the underground base, Ivan and Mikhail seemed to have been arguing to one another inside a freezer filled with specimens, Leon was running up a flight of steps, Beth was with Krauser and Jonas was alone inside what looked like a greenhouse.

"Jesus, he can see everything in this place!" Rose exclaimed. Her eyes locked onto a small microphone with many buttons labeled onto the side. "Hey, Wesker, where does it look like Jonas is at?"

He sighed and rolled his eyes, knowing full well what she was going to do. "Rose, we don't want to jeopardize our position more than we already have," he argued, "I don't think that it's a good - - "

But Rose had already pressed the button labeled "Greenhouse" and spoke into the microphone in a mock parody of God's voice. "Jonas Burton, this is God speaking!" she bellowed, "I have seen all your sins! Including your 1970's porno collection!"

On the screen, Jonas jumped somewhat at the sound of her voice before he looked around wildly for the source. His eyes finally spotted the camera and he grinned broadly, waving his hand at her. "Hey, I can see the camera from here!" he said, leaning his head forward, "Where are you guys anyway?"

Wesker murmured painfully and shook his head with dismay.

"I think it's our asshole's private office," Rose said, "I'm not too sure exactly because he's got a little bit of everything in here; a lot of cameras, equipment - - Oh! And even an empty bird cage! - - I'm guessing from the equipment, he's got a thing about spying on all of his associates. Hah. What a freak." Rose's eyes locked onto another television screen beside Jonas'. Her eyes went wide when she noticed that a few guards were closing in on the greenhouse door. "Oh shit ... "

"Rose? You still there?" Jonas called, shifting on his heels.

Rose grabbed the microphone. "Jonas! Get out of there! You got company! Those guards know that you're in there! Move your ass!"

Suddenly, the screens began to fill with static one by one, blocking out every image of their comrades. Rose gasped in horror and attempted to contact Jonas once more by pressing the appropriate button over and over again, despite the fact that she had no signal.

"Jonas? Jonas! Jonas, can you hear me? JONAS!" Rose groaned angrily and punched the computer with a single fist. "GODDAMN IT!" She turned to Wesker and grabbed his arm. "Alright, we got to get down there to him right now!"

Just as they started to go, the screens blackened entirely. And then, one by one, Alex's image began to fill the screens. Only he was not wearing his true skin this time, nor speaking in his natural voice.

"There, there, we don't want that, now do we?" he said, his voice echoing strangely due to him speaking from the various screens. "Yes, we're going to be just fine, aren't we, my children?"

Rose narrowed her eyes venomously. "Who are you?" she demanded.

"Oh, that is a question not so easily answered, my dear," Alex continued, "I am everyone and no one, I am man and woman, I am God and mortal."

Rose laughed coldly. "Sounds like you're just full of shit, old man!"

Alex chuckled quietly before he seemed to stare right at Wesker. "Albert, I know you're there as well, watching me," he continued, "I'd almost given up waiting for you to come and play. I am flattered to have you here at long last."

Wesker smirked sarcastically. "It'll pass."

Alex seemed delighted all the more, despite Wesker's sarcasm. "Ohh," he crooned, leaning back in his chair. His eyes seemed to glitter with amusement. "Is that any way to treat an old friend of the family?"

"What are you talking about?" Wesker demanded.

Alex sighed and shook his head, feigning sadness. "It is such a pity when a boy no longer recognizes his ... " And much to Rose and Wesker's horror, his entire form and voice changed to his true, original appearance, " ... father."

Rose's eyes grew wide. "Oh shit."

Wesker furrowed his brow. Through the dark lenses of his glasses, there was a gaze of deep thought, confusion and anger. But nonetheless, he spoke with a perfect calm. "No, it can't be," he said, "I know who I am."

Alex smiled and pointed to his own cheek. "You're my blood, Albert. You always have been."

"But you can't be my father." Wesker said, his voice hardening.

"Spencer took you away from me ... " Alex continued, ignoring Wesker's doubtful words, "But losing you to him also served my purposes as well. You became the Great Nemesis of this world, the Immortal Albert Wesker, my flesh and blood son and soon, the King of the future that I will create."

Wesker smiled cruelly. "Sorry, but I do not play second card to anyone," he told him, "If there's going to be anyone ruling this world or what is left of it after this, it will be me as its God, not you."

"Oh Albert, my only regret was that you learned the ways of an arrogant puppet," Alex sighed, "But things will soon change. Once you see what my ... Special Work can do, you too will learn your place. You and Rose have a future together. A future as my Adam and Eve of the new world." He grinned broadly now. "After all, you have already started on that plan ... haven't you?"

Rose grimaced with disgust. "You're disgusting!" she spat, "You have no right to our child, do you hear me?"

Alex tilted his head to one side and he looked amused. "That was what the others said to me ... " he murmured, "I took all of their children away from them and they soon saw the benefit of it all."

Wesker's glare intensified. He had enough of listening to this pretentious crap for one day. "Where are you, Alex?" he demanded, "If you are as powerful as you so claim to be, then you would have no objection to test your skills with me."

Alex smirked. "I made no such proclamation, dear son," he responded, "I am where you want me to be. I will be waiting as will the rest of the world. The world that will succumb to us."

Rose snarled. "Good, then we won't have to look very hard to find your ass in order to kick it!"

Alex's brows arched at the threat. He glanced at Wesker with a broad smile. "You taught her a lot, didn't you, Albert?" He stood up from his spot. "But there's so much more to learn." After moving toward a door behind him, he stopped and glanced to the right; he smiled thoughtfully, as if he could hear something that the pair could not. Once a brief moment passed, Alex looked back at the two. "You know, Rose, they say that the greatest suffering ... a parent can know ... is the loss of a child. Perhaps you should check on your friends soon before they ... have a bad day..."

Rose looked confused and angry all at the same time. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Alex smiled and waved at her before the screens went completely black.

Meanwhile, Ivan was moving slowly and cautiously down the pristine halls. He glanced both ways, gazing down two opposing hallways. There were no signs of anyone or anything. But as soon as he sensed something behind him, he whirled and there stood Alex, wearing his true skin. Ivan furrowed his brow thoughtfully and tilted his head to one side, scrutinizing the man standing there.

"You ... " Ivan whispered, "You ... You're not Spencer ... "

Alex chuckled and shook his head. "Indeed I am not," he replied, "I am he who made you into what you are, my dear Ivan. While Spencer claimed you as a failure, I see a beautiful Russian baby boy with a gift that he could not understand."

Ivan's eyes narrowed at the 'compliment'. He stared down at his wrapped hand, to the mutation beneath it and snarled at him, his eyes blazing with fury. "YOU! YOU DID THIS!" he shouted, "YOU DID THIS TO ME!"

Alex uttered another chuckle. He took a deep inhale and his chest puffed up somewhat. "You seem distressed, my child. Was it not a blessing to give you the greatest gift of all? To allow for you to live forever?"

Ivan pulled out two handguns from his hip holsters and aimed them at Alex just as he started to take a step forward. The man stopped in his advance and shook his head with pity and boredom, as if he had been down this road before.

"Oh Ivan, look at you ... So eager to take a life ... so willing to squeeze the trigger for the safety of your family and friends," Alex continued, "You always were my favorite of them all. So spirited despite the circumstances, so full of vigor and life. You gave joy to another; a woman who saw you for what you were, not for what she wanted you to be. If only my son could have been that way." He closed his eyes and pretended to be hurt by the sound of the handguns clicking. His little specimen truly wanted to kill him. "Good. Stand your ground. Face me! Face your maker." A sudden grin touched his lips. "Family man."

"This not a game!" Ivan bellowed, furiously, "You took my wife! You hurt many others! You can't do this anymore!"

Alex arched an eyebrow and his voice seemed to change. There was no name for the tone there, but a clever man could possibly detect a bare hint of challenge there, as if Ivan had insulted his intelligence; almost. "A game?" he whispered, "Oh ... of course not, my boy. There is no joy to me in seeing innocents suffer." He smiled so suddenly. "After all, I do not wish to see another Demidov dead."

Ivan's eyes suddenly went wide in horror. "What?"

Alex closed his eyes. When he opened them, Mischa's voice emerged from his throat. "Papa!"

Ivan suddenly turned tail and ran back the way that he had come, determined to find his son. Alex watched him go and he slowly laughed to himself. This would be interesting indeed. "Go!" he called, "Go and find your son! Run!"

O

Keith Abernathy was slowly making his way into one of the laboratories where Mischa was hiding beneath a counter. He held an intricate knife with a small feather dangling from the hilt close to his chest and he shut his eyes, stilling his breathing like his father had taught him. Calm your heart, clear your mind and find your enemy's weakness. Once you found that weakness, you strike without mercy, without remorse.

It was the way of a warrior and Mischa had always wanted to be just like his father.

Just as he stood with his knife at the ready, he ended up face - to - face with a dark, gleaming barrel. Keith smiled at him, but his eyes held a glimmer of doubt for what he knew would have to be done.

"Hello there, cue ball." he sneered.

Mischa held up both of his hands and kept his gaze locked with Keith's. "Why are you doing this?" he asked, steadily, "What can you accomplish? Do you fight for better politics? Better wars? Money?" He chuckled. "My papa has a saying, 'Politics is a rotten egg. When broke, it stinks'."

Keith kept his weapon trained on the boy. "Alex has changed this world," he told the boy, "He made it better now that there are no crimes, no senseless wars, no nothing ... Once Albert and Rose come to terms with that, you will too."

Mischa chuckled and shrugged a single shoulder. "I guess I just have an eye for prettier things."

He swiftly grabbed a beaker and tossed it at Keith. The man reacted by shielding his arm from the glass that shattered against it and Mischa took the advantage by quickly ducking to the left. Keith regained his senses and opened fire, sending shellfire raining across the room, shattering glass beakers, rupturing rubber tubes and shredding papers. After he was sure that Mischa was no where in sight, he looked around furiously.

"Come out and fight!" he shouted.

Mischa was lying beneath a table across from Keith's exposed legs and he lashed out with the knife, slashing through the fabric. Keith gave a sharp cry of pain and shot round after round at the place where Mischa used to occupy.

"Goddamn it, boy," Keith snarled, "Stop this running around like a fucking pussy and fight me!"

Mischa laughed from somewhere across the room. He tried a bait - and - catch technique with a bit of colorful language the way Claire had taught him. "Hey, if you see that guy, tell him his grandmother was trying to work me over."

Keith snarled furiously and his face went bright red at the insulting joke. "You little son - of - a - bitch!"

Mischa moved just as fast again, slashing Keith behind his back. The man cried out in agony, clutching his wound and he looked around wildly for the boy. Damn! He was a fast little bastard! After a few moments of heavy breathing and curses, Keith suddenly smirked and shut off every sense he had save for hearing. He could make out small footsteps, heading right for him to his left ...

He turned swiftly and fired.

Mischa's world went white hot and before he knew it, he had hit the floor hard. His head rang with excruciating agony and his chest felt as if someone had set it on fire. There was a pool of bright red forming around his blurry line of vision and he realized that it was his own blood. He tried to scream for help, but he was interrupted by the liquid that filled his throat. Keith towered over him and Mischa glared up with defiance.

"I'm so sorry, son," Keith said, his words sounding like he was standing behind a muffled door, "It's not my style to kill a kid. Really, it's not. I didn't want this to happen, but I have orders. You had a lot of spirit. I'm sure going to miss you."

Mischa felt the cold barrel against his forehead and he finally stopped gasping long enough to smile with a sort of peace. "Мама, быть со мной ... " he whispered, just before his world went black.

Ivan had heard the sound of the gunshot just as soon as it went off. He froze in his spot and his chest felt a twinge of pain that he had never felt before since the death of his wife. He couldn't explain why he felt physical anguish, but right now, he had to find his son. He had to pray to himself that Mischa had been the one to pull a trigger, not the other way around. Oh please let that be it ...

"Mischa ... !" he gasped.

Ivan surged down the hall, running as fast as his legs would carry him toward the sound of the shot. His heavy footsteps thudded loudly against the floor and his nostrils flared with determined breaths. Oh God, please let him not be late!

"Mischa!" Ivan bellowed desperately, stopping at a corner, "MISCHA! Where are you! Answer father at once! Misch - - " He cut himself off at the sight of bloody footsteps that led a path out from the laboratory.

Ivan felt his world slowly close in on him and he moved tentatively toward the sliding door, losing his sense of breath and time. It swooshed open and the frantic father received the greatest horror of his life: the sight of his blood-drenched son lying on the floor.

Ivan felt his head ringing and he slowly dropped to his knees. The ringing in his head blotted out the horrible sounds of his screams.

"MISCHA!"

Ivan scrambled across the floor on his hands and knees, working his way through blood and glass to reach his dead son, not even caring if the shards were slicing into his flesh and cutting him in painful ways. He took a firm hold of his son and brought him close to his chest, sobbing against his forehead. He swayed back and forth as he cradled Mischa's lifeless body.

"My son ... My son ... " he moaned, over and over again, his tears streaming down Mischa's blood - soaked cheek, "Not my son ... "

He stopped sobbing long enough to notice the blood - stained knife in his son's clutches. He reached up and gently took it, studying the hilt with a smile of despair. He had made this weapon for him, carving his initials M. I. D. with the image of a wolf alongside it. Ivan chuckled sorrowfully to himself. He remembered calling his son a little pup when he was a baby, which had always earned the disdain from his wife.

Mischa had loved the name because it was something that he had shared with his father, no matter what anyone else said. The wolf had also been his most favorite animal, so Ivan, delighted by the fact that his son wanted him to craft a weapon for him.

But now ...

Ivan suddenly felt heat swelling in his chest, a heat that choked off his ability to breathe and all sense of reason. His world turned red and began to sway like the shifting waves of a crimson sea. He could not hear his own racing heart, his surging breath and his snarls. There was no Ivan, there was no Mischa, there was only the thirst for blood and the desire to kill until there was no more left to kill.

O

Keith had to drag his sorry ass into the medical bay where there were two doctors there to help him; a nurse and a male doctor. They peeled off his jacket, revealing the wicked, discolored slash on his back. He groaned as the two began cleaning it up. They seemed to work anxiously and hurriedly, almost as if they too were afraid of the intruders who were surely inside the inside Eden now.

"How did this happen, sir?" one of the doctors - - the woman - - asked.

Keith griamced sharply, stifling a groan when she dabbed the cut with a Q-tip filled with alcohol. "A Russian brat attacked me," he groused, "Little bastard was fast, too. But I took care of it."

The two doctors looked at each other. They didn't seem enthused by this knowledge; they had a more moral way of thinking that the soldiers here lacked. "Did you ... kill the boy sir?" the other doctor asked, grimacing as he said this.

"Let's just say he'll be doing his little square dancing in hell."

The doctors looked pained by his response, but they resumed work on fixing him up. After all, they had no say or authority to argue with Alex's guards. They could simply kill them too if he wanted them to.

Suddenly, there was a gentle knock on the medical bay door. The three glanced over at it in confusion. "Hello?" the female doctor called.

On the other side of the door stood Ivan, shoulder high, wicked gurgling snarls filling his throat. He sounded like a man on the verge of a stroke or a heart attack. He raised his shaking, blood-drenched hands and smoothed back his hair before he knocked again.

"Answer it!" Keith spat, glaring at the doctors.

Suddenly, there was a loud popping sound and the door flew wildly off of its hinges like a piece of tin foil, sending hot showers of electricity everywhere and dimming the entire room into darkness. The trio across the room gave simultaneous, startled shouts and there was a struggle to get the lights back on and locate the source of the intrusion before it could overcome them.

"Get them back on!" Keith shouted.

"I'm trying!"

"Find the lights!"

After a brief and desperate struggle, the room lit up with light once more and the nurse was standing beside a set of switches, smiling with relief. She didn't see Ivan towering menacingly over her, his cat - like eye gleaming behind his white bangs.

"Whew, that was close," she sighed.

The other two looked beyond her with wide eyes. And there was the mortal horror in them that she recognized a second too late. "LOOK OUT BEHIND YOU!" the male doctor shouted, desperately.

The nurse started to turn, but Ivan didn't give her that chance to see him. He grabbed her tightly by both of her arms and sank his teeth deep into her throat, piercing the flesh and tearing veins wide open. The woman screamed in agony and struggled to free herself from the powerful man. Her screams slowly began to die down into gurgling, wet cries. The other two stumbled and backed away with horror at the sight and they could hear Ivan's ravenous, hurried slurping as he literally fed from her tattered throat like some twisted vampire.

Keith grabbed his rifle and Ivan's eyes suddenly snapped wide from behind the throat of the woman, reacting just as quick. He raised her in front of him, using her as a human shield as Keith fired round after round at him, which in turn shredded the woman's body like paper and took what ever life that she may have had still left in her.

"Argh, shit on me! Shit on me!" Keith shrieked, horrified and disgusted all at once.

Ivan suddenly tilted his head upwards, scanning the air for sounds of the clicking weapon (rid of its ammunition), taking deep, wet inhales - - like a hungry beast - - before he flung the lifeless nurses' body into the male doctor, sending him stumbling across the floor. He cried out in pain and made every desperate attempt to remove her from him before he could be next. Ivan was fast and on him in an instant. He grabbed the doctor by the mouth before he could even open his mouth to scream.

Wide eyed and muffled screams silenced by the horrible, clawed hand that seized him, the doctor was forced to look into the mismatched gaze of horrible, animal madness. Ivan's mouth dripped with blood and the corners pulled back into a wild, hungry grin. He gave an unholy, warbling cry before he pressed his claw into the doctor's left eye, squishing it like a jellybean and sending blood gushing from his head.

The doctor screamed in white - hot agony and Keith took the chance to flee from the room. Ivan jerked his head back with a snarl and flung the doctor aside like refuse. His head struck the end of a counter top, crushing his skull like a coconut from the force and killing him instantly.

You things things things of the flesh do it slow
Down avenues fuck me lust my eyes
Licking lips encouraging Mr. Careworn
To gaze upon a screen bask on after the flesh
We'll infect your carnal mind after the flesh
I walked through forests with ugly spirits
Kissed their feet and found them calm calm calm
Still I don't have any money money money
My body suffers after the flesh

Keith ran as fast as he could, listening to the thundering footsteps of Ivan giving chase behind him. At this rate, the man was sure to catch him. Man! This was no man! This was a goddamn monster! He started for the corner and readied his handgun, back pressed against the wall. He struggled to calm his breathing as the massive Russian man stomped heavily passed him.

Keith's heart hammered wildly in his chest and he finally took a deep sigh of relief and leaned his head back. "God ... " he breathed.

"Nooo ... " answered a low, panting voice.

The sounds of it sank his heart clear into his stomach. Keith turned slowly to his left and there was Ivan, grinning wickedly into his face. Before he could react, Ivan shoved his clawed hand deep into his chest, going for the pulsing organ beneath his rib cage. Keith tried to scream, but when he opened his mouth, Ivan leaned forward and bit his tongue clean off as if it were a piece of raw meat, silencing any screams and any hope for getting backup.

O

"Fall back!"

"There it is! Fuck! Fuuuuck!"

"Run! Get outta of here!"

"I can't see it. Where'd it go? Where'd it go?"

"What IS that? What the hell is that?"

Claire stayed out of sight, listening to the tormented sounds of anguish through her COM link. She quickly ducked beneath a secretary's desk as two guards walked on by, talking through their COM links.

"Keith, check in! Keith! Answer me, goddamn it! What the fuck's going on down there?" A pause followed by a defeated sigh. "Shit, he's not responding. I think he might have gotten caught by the intruders."

"Should we go check it out?"

A skeptical laugh from the other - - the first one who had spoken. Claire looked somewhat confused by the knowledge. "The boss told us to wait here till everything is in the clear for him. You wanna be the one to disobey his orders?"

"No way, man!"

After they continued on by, Claire lifted her head from the desk and took a quick exhale of relief. She had to find the others and fast. Things were getting out of control here. Whatever this guy had set lose killed most of the guards. But why would he intentionally allow for his own men to be destroyed by it? So far every action had been calculated and precise. It didn't make sense.

Suddenly, the sound of Mikhail's voice filled her ears and she jolted where she stood.

"Claire! Miss Redfield, please ... "

Claire furrowed her brow, cast a quick glance both ways and tapped her COM reception to hear him better. "Mikhail?" she said, "Mikhail, can you hear me? What's the matter? Is something wrong?"

"It's Ivan ... He's ... " There was a soft, horrified whisper that Claire had never heard before from one as stoic as Mikhail, "He's ... Oh God ... he's ... So much blood ... Mischa is ... He's not listening to me ... Please ... please, you have to come here!"

Claire didn't like the sound of that. "Is Ivan hurt?" she asked.

"N - No ... I - I don't think so ... "

Claire held her shotgun close to her chest. "What's your position?"

"Second floor. Medical wing. Please, hurry!"

Claire felt her heart grow cold. She wasn't too sure if she wanted to see what was wrong, but she had to. If Ivan was hurt in any way, or Mischa, they would need her help. Claire had learned quite a bit from Rebecca and her time in Terra Save. She had to help them.

"Hang on, Mikhail," she answered, "I'll be there."

She rushed down a flight of emergency stairs and continued to glance at each sign posted until she found the one she was looking for: 2ND FLOOR. She carefully opened the door, glancing both ways down the quiet hallways to make sure that no one was around before she hurried on.

Mikhail suddenly appeared from around the corner and when he saw her, his features brightened in relief. Claire had never seen him look so haggard before; his hair was disheveled and there was blood on his jacket and hands.

"Oh thank God!" he panted, "Come! Come quickly!"

Claire followed Mikhail around the corner and she was stunned to find a gory, bloody mess all throughout the hallway. Ivan was lying with his back against the wall, holding his son in his arms. He had his head hung, hair hiding his eyes and he seemed to be muttering soft, hurried words in Russian. Claire looked around with shock, trying to put everything together for what had happened.

"Oh God! Oh my God!" she cried. She cautiously approached the man. "Ivan ... "

He continued mumbling as if she wasn't even there, stroking Mischa's lifeless head with one shaking hand. Mikhail stared at Claire desperately and she frowned at him. "Did you give him his pill?"

"I tried!" Mikhail insisted, "I tried everything! He won't listen to me! This happened before but his wife was the only one who could bring him back." He shook his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I don't know what to do!"

Claire stared at him sternly. "You can start by not freaking out," she replied, "It's only going to make things worse."

Mikhail nodded, but he didn't seem very certain. Claire leaned forward, whispering quietly to Ivan, cautious because she knew that he was still in the throes of his madness and could lash out without warning.

"Ivan?"

Beneath Ivan's soaked bangs, his lips pulled back, revealing the blood - stained teeth. A soft hissing sound escaped him, like that of a threatened animal challenged by smaller, cunning prey.

"Ivan?" Claire repeated, "Ivan, look at me."

Shakily, Ivan lifted his head slowly, terrible, choked whimpers escaping him. His eyes were far gone, filled with madness and delirium. It was like peering into the windows of hell itself; his eyes looked absolutely frightening. Suddenly, he screamed and thrashed at her and Mikhail pulled her out of the way to avoid his clawed arm.

"NO!" Ivan screeched, between choked sobs, "No! No, no, no, no!"

Claire tugged her way from his grasp and ducked from Ivan's thrashing fists to take his face between her hands and press her forehead to his. "Ivan! Ivan, it's me!" she cried, "Ivan, it's Claire. Ivan, it's me." She grimaced when his clawed hand grabbed her shoulder, starting to pull her away from him, but she fought the pain of it and spoke soothingly through a sharp hiss. "It's Claire. It's Claire."

Ivan's body rocked with massive spasms and he reached up to push her away, but his hand froze inches over her shoulders and tightened into trembling fists. Claire took one of those fists into her hands and smiled down at him, despite her uneasiness.

"Claire ... " he groaned, tears forming at the corners of his eyes, "They ... they killed ... " His voice disappeared into broken, hollow sobs.

Claire couldn't tell him anything that would make him feel any better. He was a father who had lost his child; nothing that she said would do anything to change that. She quickly felt around his blood-spattered coat pockets to find his capsules.

"Mikhail, where are his goddamn pills?" she demanded.

"Left pocket!"

Claire fingered through Ivan's left chest pocket, taking note to his lack of resistance before she pulled out the small container that held several horse-sized red pills. She popped the cap open and took out a pill, pressing it to Ivan's immediately seized lips. Now was not the time for this. They had to hurry before other guards came to investigate their fallen comrade. After listening to the two that were in conversation, they were sure to catch on soon.

"Ivan, take it, please!" she begged, softly, "Please ... "

Ivan whined like a beaten dog, his brow knotting before his lips parted and he took the pill, swallowing it after a long, tense moment. The red around his irises faded and he stared at Claire with sorrow, pain and bitter rage.

"C - Claire ... " he moaned.

"Ivan ... What happened?" Claire asked, sternly.

He looked down at his lifeless son and his teeth slowly set. "He ... He killed ... That ... bastard dog!" he snarled, his voice slowly losing every ounce of composure. "My son ... My SON! MY SON!" After a moment of petting Mischa's head, the anger and rage faded away, melting completely into sorrow, weakness and pain. "No ... Mischa ... NO!"

Mikhail watched the scene with pity and lowered his head.

"Ivan, we can't stay here!" Claire told him, shaking his shoulders gently, "We have to move now!"

"I can't ... "

"You have to!" Claire insisted, "Do you really think Mischa would have wanted his father - - his inspiration - - to sit around and die crying in blood or would he want his father to kill the bastard who took his life?" She chuckled weakly. "If it were me, I'd be a little bit open to the idea!"

"Claire ... "

"Get your big ass up, Ivan!" Claire told him, "Get up and win this for your boy."

Ivan looked up at her, his face haggard from crying. After a long, tense moment of staring at her, searching her eyes for something, he weakly exhaled and something suddenly changed in his gaze. "You ... You came back ... for me?"

Claire smiled at him and nodded. "What else could I do?"

After a moment of gathering his wits about him, Mischa was covered with Ivan's long jacket and saluted by both Ivan and Mikhail as if he were a fallen soldier in their ranks. Ivan had placed the knife on Mischa's chest.

"Godspeed, Mischa!" Mikhail whispered.

"Godspeed ... " Ivan repeated.

Finally, the three raced down the length of the hallway, seeking out the revenge that was desperately craved.

O

Note-The snippet of the song here is "After the Flesh" by My Life With The Thrill Kill Kult. I tell ya' what, that is one long ass name. LOL! You see the source of Ivan's madness. The scent of blood and his fallen son pushed him to the edge. Is this gore a bit much, you wonder? I'd say it follows along Darkside Chronicles in terms of emotion and gore.

Мама, быть со мной... "Mama, be with me..."