Meanwhile, in a blindingly white lab somewhere in England...


21st November 2022.

I'm going to start leaving the date of when I put up a chapter, don't know why I didn't start doing that in the first place!

As has happened to me before, this originally wasn't planned, but decided to write it :)

Enjoy!


White coats rippled in the air, voices chattered and metal trays clattered with surgical instruments in the room beyond, or at least that's what TSR-02 imagined; this huge window was five inches thick, and for good reason. He had also been more than thankful that it was soundproof too.

TSR-02 pulled at the sleeves of his white jumpsuit and leant against an equally white desk near the back of the room. White. What was it with this place and white? It was gross, it was garish. Dirt showed easily, it hurt the eyes, and bloody handprints and internal organs were tough to clean off. He knew. He'd been tasked with cleaning test rooms more times than he could remember. White was a sign of purity? Pah! This place was as far from pure as it could get! He scooped up a pen by his leg and began clicking it in frustration.

"I do hope you're watching, TSR-02."

TSR-02 didn't raise his head, but shifted his eyes to the only thing in this God-forsaken place that didn't revolve around "purity white". Verminus Apollo. This bastard that tried make himself look like something out of an old horror movie; long, flowing black hooded cloak, black jumpsuit underneath and whatever the fuck that mask with its voice changer was. Fucking Sith Lord wannabe! Darth Verminus?! What a prick! Not only that, but he only started this so-called fashion style after he returned from a long hiatus! What was it, some kind of self-seeking, spiritualistic journey or what?! Prick.

"Yes, sir, I am watching." TSR-02 replied bluntly, and straightened himself up to watch through the glass.

A profile appeared on a projected screen inside the room, like any other time a test was conducted. The test subject was female. Red hair. Blue eyes. Youthful in appearance. Her jumpsuit had been opened to her sternum to attach various sensors, and she sat slumped in a single chair in the middle of the room. The last few scientists left the room, and the door slid closed, the horizontal green light above it turning red to indicate that it was now locked.

"Sir." One of the scientists approached Verminus, but the man in black did not turn to look at him. Ignorant as always, TSR-02 thought grimly.

"Sir. The virus has been injected. We now wait."

TSR-02 grimaced. Even after all this time, he hadn't gotten used to a British accent. He had learned to distrust the accent, and he had fought hard to keep his own accent intact. He watched them all approach various consoles around the room, and all of them spoke in single sentences between themselves. The female on the other side began to writhe and scream, but no voice was heard. She ran halfway along the room before skidding to a stop and tripping over her own feet, disappearing from view. Two of the scientists near the glass craned their necks, and TSR-02 also looked up, and her sudden appearance in front of the window made several of them jump, TSR-02 included. She slammed her fists and twisted her face in agony as she stared at him, mouthing at him.

He knew exactly what she was saying. He had learned to lip read in his time here, yet he was helpless. He couldn't answer her pleas for help. He turned his eyes away from her as she screamed again, clasping both of her hands to her head, but Verminus' phone ringing drew his attention. As the other scientists continued to watch the female react violently to the virus they had administered, Verminus turned his back and answered his phone.

"Brown…Which one?...Her mother wasn't an option for you, or did you get lax?...Fine, she will have to do then…I'll begin to make my way to the airfield." He hung up in his usual arrogant way and turned to TSR-02.

"Since my men are busy, you can do the honours and add the next test subject to the database." Verminus barked at him. TSR-02 sighed and sat at the desk, waking the computer up. He wasn't even brought here to do this bullshit, but he was never given an option. He despised himself for it. He opened the appropriate files and leant back in the seat.

"Name?" TSR-02 asked flatly. Verminus glanced around the room and snapped his gloved fingers several times, grasping the attention of the others.

"Redfield." He snarled loudly. "Chloe. May. Redfield."

TSR-02's eyes widened slightly, but he still inputted the name as the scientists in the room gasped and laughed and asked questions.

"Redfield?!" one shouted.

"A relative of Chris Redfield?!" another asked gleefully.

"She is the niece of…that man, yes." Verminus' voice drawled, thick with toxicity.

TSR-02's heart hammered inside his ribcage and anger rose up within him, but he fought to keep his composure. Papers were slapped down next to him, and he followed the arm to Verminus' hidden face.

"Here are the rest of her details. Put it all in and save. Print off a wristband label and a label for a blood sample. Be sure to hand both to me before I leave to meet with her and Dave Brown at the airfield."

TSR-02 shuffled silently through the papers and the female test subject again threw herself at the window. He flicked his eyes briefly at her tear streaked face, but again looked away.

He ran a finger along the information he needed, and began to input the details;

Date of birth: 9th June 2013. Ew, British date format. It auto filled the age to 15 years. Hair colour: Auburn. Eye colour: Blue. He never did know why Verminus seemed to think hair and eye colour were so important, but, whatever. He input her height and left the weight blank as the paperwork stated; she'd only get weighed up upon arrival anyway.

He accepted the information to generate a test subject name;

TSR-10

TS stood for Test Subject, because Verminus was clearly an original son of a bitch, while the third letter was the first initial of the last name, and the number indicated the number of that person's surname initial. She was the tenth person to be brought in with R being the first initial in the surname. He had seen that number reach far higher for other letters. S for example, it was only the other day that he saw a TSS-109, or B, there was a TSB-87 recently and-

The desk beside him collapsed in a flurry of paperwork and keyboard keys and he jumped out of his seat. Oh God it was just TSB-03.

TSB-03 frowned and turned to face the scientist behind him, squaring him off, but TSR-02 slapped an arm across his chest, and shook his head.

"Just don't. Not worth it." TSR-02 whispered. TSB-03 slowly turned his head to him, but nodded.

TSR-02 returned to his orders, ignoring the imposing threat of the hulking scientist that had thrown TSB-03 into the room from a different test chamber. He hit save and then print, and the little printer at the side of the room began to squeal and squeak, to which he stood up and approached. Applause and cheers filled the room as he tapped a finger idly on the printer, and he lazily glanced up to see that the test was now over. He ripped the labels from the printer and pulled a blank wristband from the cheap little tray next to it, smoothing it on. He slipped the band and other label into a clear bag and idly slapped Verminus on the arm with it.

"Thank you, TSR-02, now, back to your quarters, and YOU. BOY." Verminus pointed at TSB-03. "You have been here long enough to know better than to fight my men. You will be null of mouth for three days." TSB-03 grunted and shrugged as he picked up the paperwork about Chloe Redfield. TSR-02 watched Verminus leave the room before approaching the large window into the test chamber.

TSR-01. The first person to have R as their surname initial. She was convulsing on the floor, vomiting, her hair soaked with sweat.

It's her fault.

He wouldn't even be here if not for her. She fucking lied to him, betrayed him. He loved her, but deep down he still despised her, from the moment he woke up in the morning until the instant he fell asleep, and even in his dreams he loathed her. He vowed to himself that he would never forgive her.

But he loved her, he still truly loved her.

Neither of them should be here.

A twisted combination of concern and greed had overcome her. They were stuck in this lab as blinding as white snow, this white hell, stuck for as long as Vermapollo Corp continued to test on (mostly) innocent people.

He was innocent. TSR-01, however, was not.

He still loved her, but he will never forgive her.

"Actually, TSR-02, take the bucket, go clean the test room." Verminus commanded. TSR-02 paced to that sliding door in the corner and pulled at the bucket handle, noting the sponge that floated lazily in the strong smelling disinfectant. He took a deep breath, and strolled somewhat confidently into the room.

It wasn't a bloodbath like some of the rooms he had seen, but the chair was now splintered across the room, and large, thick pools of blood decorated the blindly white tiles. He approached the first puddle of crimson, squeezed the sponge, and wiped at it. He wrinkled his nose at the strong stench and squelching sensation on his hand.

He heard whimpering, and TSR-01 pulled herself across the floor towards him, smearing more blood behind her. Her face was bloodied too; she had deeply cut her eyebrow, and blood flowed freely down her face. Her white jumpsuit was more red than its original colour, and a large tear in the fabric of the leg revealed a disgustingly large laceration. He took note of the splintered remainder of the chair, and decided that she must've injured herself on that.

She looked at him through tears and reached a blood soaked hand out to him. He viewed it with disdain, and she whimpered again, trying to grasp at his own jumpsuit. He turned his attention to the blood puddles, but her hand tightly grasped his, squeezing disinfectant and diluted blood in between his fingers.

"I'm sorry…" she whispered. He had spent years listening to apologies. Sorry was never enough, he had grown tired of it long ago.

"Chloe Redfield is being brought here." he whispered back to her.

Her tears stopped and her eyes widened as she processed the information she had just been given, before bursting into tears again, and she mouthed back.

"This is all my fault."

He shook his head. "She has a totally different infection. t-Phobos virus. Not your fault."

He cleaned up the blood in silence, only the sounds of her sobs bounced off the walls. He wanted to embrace her, but he knew he'd be punished by the scientists. He stood up and ran his clean hand through her hair as he approached the window. Verminus pressed a button on the console in front of him, and TSR-02 heard interference crackling above his head.

"Sir, my apologies, this will need more than a sponge. My apologies."

Verminus nodded, or at least TSR-02 thought he did.

"TSR-02, to your quarters." Verminus ordered. He slapped the sponge to the floor and walked briskly away from the woman. He couldn't look at her wailing, bloodied figure on the floor.

But he still loved her.

He glared at the Darth Vader wannabe and briskly walked from the room. He could smell the food from the cafeteria as he walked by, but he was not hungry, certainly not after trying to clean TSR-01's blood. Besides, all of this was white too, too fucking bright. He needed a dark room. His room. He rounded the corner to head up stairs and to the elevators before quick footsteps behind him caught up.

"Artoo!" shouted a young voice, but he continued to walk. He felt a hand on his shoulder as he jogged up the stairs, and TSB-03's face appeared.

"Beethree". replied TSR-02, or "Artoo" as the few affectionate people in this bullshit place called him.

"That test subject you inputted just now, I knew her mom, Claire!"

"Did you, now?"

"Yeah, I only met her once though, she was barely a kid, more an adult actually."

Artoo punched the buttons on the elevator and it opened immediately. Without a word he stepped inside and watched Beethree's face disappear as it closed, leaving only him and his reflection in the shiny, over polished doors. He stared at himself, and slowly ran a hand over his scalp. Too many surgery scars from the reconstructive surgeries that this place had performed on him to test their skills. He wagered that there was more titanium than bone where his skull was. Felt it too, it definitely hadn't felt like bone in a long time. All the scars meant that he had forgotten what it was like to have hair, and they forced him to shave every day. Not just his facial hair, but everything. EVERYTHING. Pulling at his scrotum to shave was never something he thought he'd have to do. But as far as he knew, he was the only one made to shave completely. Why? Why him? Was it for simple humiliation? He blinked tears away and gulped down the lump that had formed in his throat.

The doors finally opened, and he stepped into an ornately decorated music room. His slippered feet padded softly along the polished marble flooring as the secret door to the elevator closed, complete with a large portrait sliding over the hidden door, and he plinked a few keys at the majestic grand piano as he passed through.

Door on this room, then a smaller corridor, some stairs, then another corridor, and finally, his quarters. His reward for "being such a valuable asset." Most, if not all test subjects had plain, white rooms with uncomfortable beds and humiliating toilet facilities. While he had no personal bathroom, he still had assess to a finely decorated and well maintained bathroom only partway down the corridor. He entered into a simple room with a sheet covered mattress, a parlour fridge and a small closet to store food that he was given as a treat, a table with a kettle and some old, tattered books, a CD player, with some old CDs that the scientists wanted to throw out. He locked the door and grinned.

At least this is what Verminus thought his quarters were.

He shifted the mattress and lifted a large panel, revealing a crawlspace. He got in, pulled the mattress back to cover the secret trapdoor and placed the panel back. Wiggling on his belly he travelled into the next room, which actually had no door, not even a secret one like the elevator had. Inside were more CDs, newer, working. He had also acquired a laptop that the lab decided they didn't want, and over time he had learned how to secretly hack into Vermapollo's internet connection and remain undetected. He checked the emails of his super secret account, oh! A reply?! He tapped on it. YES! Someone in the Hound Wolf Squad replied to him! He wiped his eye at the formation of a tear. He had tried for years, literal fucking years to find a way to discreetly contact-

He froze at the respondent's name.

Chris Redfield! Chris Redfield, the man himself, had responded! He carefully read each word…Yes…yes of course he was cautious, Artoo couldn't blame him, but yes, what did he have to lose?

"You're smart, Chris, don't let me down…"

He pulled two pieces of paper from his jumpsuit and pinned them to the wall; no one had seen him photocopy Chloe Redfield's data. Shuffling back over to his laptop he opened a browser, still blissfully undetected, and entered "Claire Redfield" into the search bar. Sure enough, several pages from news articles and TerraSave appeared, but he clicked to only show images.

He smiled at the images of her, and looked at the smiling high school photo of Chloe that he had acquired, before looking back at Claire's image. He smiled, sighed, and printed the image off. He only had black ink, but it was better than nothing. He pinned it next to Chloe's image and backed up, observing the wall.

Twenty or so years of images, BSAA and TerraSave articles certainly takes up a lot of room, though he had only acquired half a dozen articles about Hound Wolf Squad. He didn't know the true popularity of the Redfields outside of this facility; in fact they all hated them here, but he'd put good money on him being their biggest fan.

"I won't let them, Claire." He whispered to the freshly printed Claire image. "I won't let them lay a fucking finger on her. I'll help her escape."


The song for this chapter is It Snows In Hell by Lordi.

Coz I wanted to somehow squeezed Lordi in somewhere idk.

Hit me up with your thoughts after reading this!