A/n: More background information, mainly on Wesker. I tried to be as accurate as possible.

Chapter 4

Context Time: The night that the S.T.A.R.S. Entered the Spencer Mansion; Location: Over the Atlantic Ocean; A Private Transatlantic Flight from Paris to New York; Hour: 1920

"So, White Umbrella has decided to send in the S.T.A.R.S. without Alfred's approval. Who is the Raccoon S.T.A.R.S.' leader again?" questioned an elderly man of his much younger adviser.

"Albert Wesker, sir," replied the adviser.

"Ahh, yes. Albert Wesker. I do believe that he is unhappy with the way the Board is running White Umbrella. I know for a fact he likes it better when he has to report to a single person, not a group of them. I do believe that this can be used against them...." The old, but by no means senile, man kept mumbling random facts until his adviser stopped him.

"Sir, what are you talking about?"

"I would expect you not to know," replied the aged man. "But I will explain it to you. About forty years ago, two families founded the Umbrella Pharmaceutical Corporation. This company served as a front for a different company, called White Umbrella. Two men, Alexander Ashford and Mark Spencer, controlled the legal side of Umbrella, while their children, Alfred and Alexia Ashford and Oswell Spencer, were put in charge of White Umbrella. Eventually, Mark Spencer died and the Ashford twins secretly turned their father into a monster. Then, Alexia injected herself with a virus and fell into a hibernation-like state, where she still is. Oswell disappeared, and Alfred took control over Umbrella and White Umbrella. But, because most top scientists thought that he was crazy and unfit to lead them, so he created a Board of Directors, of which he was a part, to lead White Umbrella. Now, what I was getting at was that Albert Wesker has been with this company for about ten years, and he doesn't like the Board or Alfred. Which means that I can count on his support when I go to reclaim my place at the head of Umbrella and kill that bastard Alfred."

"Do you want me to contact Wesker for you?" asked the adviser.

"Yes. Tell him to get away from the S.T.A.R.S. after he finishes 'cleaning up' the mansion and come to New York City," ordered the man.

"One thing bothers me about the story you told me, sir," said the adviser. "You said that Oswell Spencer disappeared, but…."

"Yes, he disappeared under threat from Alfred. But now I'm returning to show him who really deserves Umbrella," said the old man, Oswell Spencer, menacingly. "But really, it is a pity. My house is about to be destroyed."

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Context Time: Directly after the Spencer Mansion Incident; Location: Raccoon City; Forest on Outskirts of the City; Hour: 0650

Fuck them all, thought Wesker. Fuck each and every one of them. Especially Redfield.

While thinking these thoughts, Wesker was stumbling through the woods, putting distance between himself and the Spencer Mansion and Raccoon City. He was bleeding heavily from his left side, where the Tyrant had stabbed him, and he had a concussion. But still, onward he pushed, a grim determination set in his mind. His plan was to get to a motel in Arklay and clean himself up, while treating his wounds as best as he could. Then, it was on to New York City, where he would be meeting with Oswell Spencer.

Actually, as he thought about it, he began to think that Oswell was a terrible strategist. Instead of fighting with Alfred over the joint control of Umbrella all those years ago, Oswell had just run away. Now, years later, he was returning to either share control of the company with Alfred or forcibly take it from him. Wesker thought that it was a stupid, terrible plan. Why had he run away in the first place? Because he was a coward, and Wesker was convinced that he still was a coward.

On the other hand, Wesker thought that Oswell was the best man to be in control of the large international company. Alfred was just plain nuts, his bitch sister was still hibernating, and the Board of White Umbrella was nothing but a bunch of rich men who were too proud to lift a pencil, no less make important decisions. Wesker had no doubt that Oswell was the most capable performer out of them all.

However, Wesker thought that there was someone who was better than them all to rule the company, and that was Wesker himself.

Thank God I made it out of this alive. Now, when I get to Spencer, we can get rid of both that bastard Alfred and that Board of Idiots of White Umbrella. Then, I can easily eighty-six that antique Spencer and take my place at the head of both Umbrella and White Umbrella.

Wesker was a happy man indeed as he stumbled away from the burning wreckage of the Spencer estate and the nightmares it had caused.

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Context Time: Shortly After Wesker's Escape from the Mansion; Location: Unknown; Oswell Spencer's Private Hospital/Research Lab; Hour: 1856

Wesker couldn't recall even a shred of his good mood from earlier in the day. He screamed again, a low, baritone sound that reverberated around the cramped, sterile room as another syringe was jabbed somewhere into his body. He couldn't even tell where the needle pierced his skin, he just knew that his whole body hurt, and he began to thrash around despite the restraining straps bolting him to the bed.

"Relax, relax, Wesker," he could hear Oswell Spencer saying. Relax, you mother fucker!!! Wesker mentally shouted at the older man. This is more pain than you will ever know, and you're telling me to RELAX!!! Wesker could only grit his teeth and seethe at the old man and the doctors working on him.

What had happened to Wesker since he fled from the mansion was a simple story. Unable to treat his wounds on his own, Wesker hitched a ride to New York City, where he met Oswell Spencer in a very inconspicuous location: the top of the Statue of Liberty. Wesker related what had happened in the mansion to Spencer, and ended it by fainting from blood loss exactly when he told Spencer about him getting stabbed by the Tyrant.

When Wesker had woken up, he was strapped to the hospital table that he was now on, with both of his wrists cut open and various parts of his inner body exposed. It was at the moment when he saw Spencer leaning over him with an interested look on his face that Wesker first felt the pain. Throughout his intermittent screams, Wesker listened to Spencer telling him what was happening to him. In order to heal him from the Tyrant's wound, Spencer initiated his test program, which basically would turn Wesker into a Tyrant. He would have all of the benefits that Tyrants enjoy, such as increased strength, vision, hearing, and agility, but he would be able to retain his outward appearance.

Actually, no matter how much it hurt, Wesker appreciated what Spencer was doing to him.

"Okay," the doctor cooed to Wesker. "The work on your body is finished. We just need to amplify your sense of sight, and you'll be finished."

"That doesn't sound so bad," Wesker whispered. He found it immensely hard to summon the strength to speak at the moment, and his throat was raw from his screams. "What are you gonna do, put in contact lenses or something like that?"

"No, no, Mr. Wesker," the doctor corrected, as though he were speaking to a child. He lifted two small, white orbs from a table next to him. "In order for your brain to accept the new images it will be receiving, we will need to replace your eyes." He held out the two orbs, which were actually slitted reptilian eyes, complete with red arteries and blue veins hanging out from the back.

"Wha…? NOOOOOOO!!!" Wesker screamed out, just before the mask supplying the anesthesia was placed over his nose and mouth. He breathed deeply, the soothing gas entering his lungs, and all of his worries disappeared, along with his consciousness.

Sighing, the doctor removed the mask from Wesker's face once he was sure that he was asleep. Then he gouged out his eyes.

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Chapter 5 is on the way. Hope you are enjoying the story; let me know if there's anything I can do to improve.

Kompressor