Chapter 5
Wesker leaped over the first Tyrant's attacking claws,
landing nimbly on his feet and delivering a devastating backwards kick that
took the Tyrant in the lower back. Wesker then had to dive aside as the second
charged him, the sharpened claws missing him by inches. Wesker countered with
two swift punches, then an uppercut.
Then the first Tyrant smacked him across the head with a
backhand, hurling him up and away. Wesker saw the ceiling coming a second
before it connected with his face. He then felt the floor connect with his back
as he fell. Shakily, the red-eyed man stood, then hurled himself aside as one
of the Tyrants charge. Its claws raked the floor beneath Wesker, tearing up
gouges in the ceramic plates.
Wesker leaped up into the air, his right leg coming
around in a swift kick that would have bent metal bars. His foot met the
Tyrant's face, and it was forced to step back several huge steps to absorb the
impact.
Then the second was charging, its arm shooting across and
swatting Wesker hard enough to send him through a wall. Wesker continued to
fly, shattering glass beneath him and rolling off a table. He quickly stood
back up, clenching his teeth.
No, it wasn't going to end like this. Losing to a pair of
mindless Tyrants? No damn way! He was Albert goddamn Wesker!
Wesker scanned the room, realizing he was in a medical
bay. He then smiled.
"You ugly bastards want the samples?" he asked
the two hulking Tyrants as they slowly, calmly walked toward the hole he'd
flown through. Wesker snatched up a syringe and took out one of the vials of
Umbrella's latest concoction.
"Then you'll have them!"
The Tyrants were the result of a combination of T-virus
research and also an unusual parasitic creature created by Umbrella's Paris labs. This
parasite was called the Nemisis parasite, and was one of the reasons why
Tyrants even existed at all. However, the Nemisis parasite had the sad tendency
to consume and kill its host within a matter of months without constant
injections and upkeep.
The vials of samples in Wesker's pocket were a special
Umbrella concoction, a virus that reacted in response to the Nemisis parasite
in each Tyrant's body. The anti-Nemisis had the lovely trait of dramatically
increasing the Nemisis parasite's consumption of its host's body. Whereas
before, it took months for the Tyrant to die, when the virus was injected, it
would over clock the Tyrant's and the parasite's metabolism to the point where,
within minutes, the body ran out of energy and was forced to feed on itself to
continue surviving. Within moments after that process began, the body would
break down and die.
In short, the samples Wesker held caused a Tyrant to
literally starve to death in minutes.
Wesker filled the syringe and held it up. Normally, he'd
squeeze it a bit to get the air bubbles out, but right now, Wesker didn't
really care about that. He looked up as the two Tyrants hulked into the medical
bay. Only enough time to fill the one syringe. Well, that was fine. Wesker
could take a Tyrant one-on-one.
The Tyrants charged, knocking over medical equipment and
tables, sending glass and delicate instruments flying. Wesker leaped aside,
then kicked off a wall and into the air, directly over one of the pale-skinned
death machines. He landed lithely on one of the Tyrants' shoulders, and jabbed
the syringe into its neck. The virus poured into the Tyrant's blood, working
immediately.
The Tyrant thrashed, its normal right arm flying up over
its shoulder, slamming Wesker with incredible force in the shoulder and hurling
him away once more. He slammed through a wall and rolled over, pain shooting
through his left arm.
"Shit," he muttered, realizing his mistake.
He'd been so focused on the "Tyrant dying"
aspect to remember the whole report about the anti-Nemisis virus. While the
Tyrant was infected and its metabolism was over clocked, its physical power was
increased ten times over and more. Furthermore, the Tyrant went totally
berserk. Wesker watched as the uninfected Tyrant was suddenly tossed off its
feet. The infected, berserk Tyrant fell on it. Clawed arms slashing while its
fists pounded.
Within moments, the berserk Tyrant had torn its brother
apart, and then spun towards Wesker.
Wesker shakily rose to his feet, clutching his left arm.
Broken. The damn Tyrant had broken his arm with its sheer strength. He spared a
glance at Batman and his comrade, to see the rest of that merry crew had
arrived. Joy. Hopefully the berserk Tyrant would notice them first.
But the Tyrant remained focused on Wesker, and as it
charged, Wesker realized that though the Tyrant would break down in minutes,
those were minutes he didn't have.
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It wasn't often that the whole Batclan was together to
fight a common foe. Ever since Nightwing moved on to Bludhaven due to
differences with the Dark Knight, the Batclan had been missing the original Boy
Wonder. And there was no better time than now for a little family reunion.
"Take turns," Batman said, slashing the
Tyrant's back with his Batarang, and rolling out of the way before the Tyrant
could smack him any further. "It can't take us all at once." The rest
of the Batclan nodded, as Batgirl delivered a two sharp jabs and a triple side kick
to the Tyrant's head. Robin soon followed up with a few turning kicks when the
Tyrant turned its attention to Batgirl. Nightwing was soon on the Tyrant's case
as he pounded hard with his escrima sticks.
Now with the rest of the Batclan here, Batman could turn
his attention back to Wesker. He was just in time to see Wesker slammed
through another wall by a Tyrant.
Wait... just one? Batman scanned the room for the other, finally noticing it in
the corner, body maimed beyond recognition. Then Batman noticed something
different about the other Tyrant. It was moving fast. Much too fast.
"We have to bring down this Tyrant now." Batman
said through his headset as he dodged the Tyrant's clawed hand. "We don't
know when it will go berserk like the one currently thrashing Wesker."
Then an idea came to Batman. Or rather, he remembered something from the movie
Armageddon. When you detonate an explosive in the palm of your hand, all you
get are a few burns. But when you clench your fist and detonate an explosive in
it...
"At the count of three, release all your grappling
hooks on it." Batman commanded. The other three members of the Batclan
knew better than to disagree.
"One... Two... Three!"
Nightwing somersaulted away from engaging the Tyrant in
hand to hand, and released his grappling hook in the air, at the same moment
that the rest launched theirs. The four strong cords swung around the surprised
Tyrant, immobilizing it for a moment. Just enough time for Batman to pry open
its mouth with a batarang and drop two batgrenades down its throat.
"RUN!" Batman yelled, as he ran away from the
Tyrant. Nightwing, Robin and Batgirl followed suit, as the Tyrant exploded from
within, sending chunks of charred flesh flying all over the room.
