As promised, our beloved Redfields are back.

The subheadings of the whole chapter are all songs names. I can't say I like each one of those songs (actually I like only one so far, guess which one) but… who cares?

Let the show begin!

P.S. No pop singers nor Japanese composers nor Hermès designers paid me to be featured in this chapter. (*huffs)

Chapter 20 – Showdown (1 of 3)

Part 1 – Treacherous

Claire: Greets galz! You left me to put up with Wesker all by myself!

Two hours of science to begin Tuesday mornings with must be declared a crime! Teen abuse, that's the name!

The week had just begun and it already hit hard with one hundred twenty minutes of pure boredom. To make things worse, on that morning Claire was enduring that creep of Albert Wesker all alone, as neither Jill nor Rebecca had shown up at the bus stop, without advising they'd have skipped school.

The only bright side in that matter was that at least she had spent some additional time with Chris as, extraordinarily, she joined his gang who, strangely, on that day counted a missing Leon since the boy had deserted the sidewalk gathering as well. Was there some kind of flu spreading? That was Carlos's conviction. He slyly highlighted that the only missing people had in common the party they all attended back on Friday night. Therefore, he sentenced, they all were dead-ass screwed since the spinning bottle had doomed 'em all! Change my mind!

Chris had brushed that idiocy off as total flimsy crap but inwardly he hoped Carlos was wrong and that the kiss he shared with Jill hadn't transmitted him any virus. Otherwise it was inevitable that Claire would've fallen ill shortly afterwards with all the necking, the cuddles and the sex they had shared during the weekend.

Although Chris's arm draped her shoulder and warmed her neck, Claire had felt alone on that sidewalk.

She missed Rebecca. Not only at school, but in general… in those last days she'd sensed her standoffish towards her, even though Claire continued repeating herself that it must be just her imagination. Ultimately, all Rebecca had done to elicit such doubts was only to ghost in their group chat, answering only with an emoji every now and then without her usual joy and never texted her privately a single time. Claire had tried to rationalize the thing as to find a logical explanation to Rebecca's behaviour. First and foremost, her friend had no reasons to ignore her. Furthermore, Rebecca had ditched them all on Saturday night as she still suffered from the hangover, albeit this was more than plausible. After all, back on Friday, when everyone had already left and only the girls remained in the house, Rebecca was passed out face-down on a couch as drunk as a skunk.

In the end, it was only Claire's intuition that suggested her best friend got some bad blood towards her. Nothing more. Yet, Claire couldn't get rid of that feeling.

That defection at the bus stop was only feeding those paranoid thoughts of her. Stupidly. But how could Claire ever imagine that her friends defaulted because they had returned home so late from a secret mission that they were just oversleeping?

"I see we have resumed dismissed habits, Miss Redfield!" the boring voice of Wesker crawled into her mind and caused her train of thoughts to derail brusquely. His tone was just the same as when he was teaching, thus hadn't he spelled her last name, Claire would've not realized he had actually stopped blathering about DNA. Wesker had been keeping an eye on her for a while from behind his sunglasses, curious to discover how far she would take her brazen inattention.

Claire shifted on her seat in discomfort and alarm and hid her phone inside her biker boot before he'd spot it and confiscated it. "I'm sorry, Mr Wesker."

By no means convinced by his gorgeous student's apology, Wesker clicked his tongue and simply resumed his lecture. He detested when his students didn't pay attention.

In the turn of a few minutes, the bell ring would've allowed Claire to go getting bored somewhere else far from that weirdo in dark shades.

A feeble vibration on her ankle signalled that someone had texted her. Hopefully, Rebecca had replied! Claire hoped so with all her heart but checking it now was out of question. She had teased Wesker's patience too much.

Claire glanced at the empty desk beside hers, impatiently. Just sixty-five minutes to go. Fuck it.

The trill ringed clear and arrogant, trumping the blond man's voice that finished assigning homework. Tuesday's science class was over. That was the occasion Claire was waiting for. She thrusted her hand inside her boot and pulled out her phone, whilst all her classmates chaotically stood up and left.

Ashley: Lucky you, C! Annette here is a pain in the ass!

Moira: Watch your tongue, Graham! Don't touch my fave Birkin (heart) she's mine!

Ashley: you mean the bag?

Claire eyerolled in disappointment and scorn.

She fast typed that she was actually referring to Becky and Jill and fucked the chat off to go to check her two friends last accesses.

Maybe they haven't replied 'cause they haven't read it yet…

Her jaw dropped as she discovered that both Jill and Rebecca last accesses dated back to around five in the morning.

Ok, Claire. Steady now. Now don't think they were together badmouthing about you, ok? OK? You know them. They'd never do it.

Ugh... stupid meaningless coincidences. Claire trusted her friends! Then… why couldn't she suppress that rising sadness?

Lastly looking upwards from her phone's screen, Claire noticed too late not only that the room had emptied but also that Wesker was standing by her desk. Suddenly, Chris's terrified telling flashed back in her mind and made her shudder to the bone. It was happening again. She was going to be harassed by her teacher.

"Miss Redfield, are my lessons less important than whatever inanity you were doing with your mass-distraction device?" the man hissed, planting his open palm on the small desk to lean his slender frame onto it until his masculine, sunken face was just a few inches away for her.

"No, Mr Wesker." The redhaired uttered grabbing her bag and standing up.

"I have got reason to believe the contrary." The man contested in his nasal voice, his inscrutable eyes following her moves. "Your demeanour has undoubtedly improved since the unfortunate vicissitude that involved your family has resolved."

Claire sensed there was a "but" coming and she really didn't want to be there when he'd have hissed it at her face. "I'm doing my best, Professor. Now I ought to hurry up to my next class. Would you please excuse me."

Wesker stopped her departure by reaching out an arm to bar her way and elegantly looped it around her shoulders with a smooth spin of his athletic body. It was like having a snake slithering around your neck and she felt a retch building in her belly. Being Wesker a good couple of spans taller than her, Claire's shoulder was carefully nestled under his armpit and she was so close to him that his manly scent filled her nostrils. His beguiling perfume was the sole good thing about him.

Underlining his every move with his signature chuckle, the teacher led her to his desk, walking like they were two sweethearts promenading in a park – although there was nothing sweet between them and sure as hell there was only one heart. Once there, he sat legs-spread on the desktop and took her hands in his. The hold around her petite hands was steady but mild, and it was gelid as if his fingers were ten tiny cold-blooded bony snakes. To be caressed by Wesker was like hairstyling Medusa, only that when the man took his shades off to hook it on the collar of his button-down revealing a few blond hairs, his gaze was far more petrifying than the mythological gorgon's.

"If I'm not wrong, I proposed you to recuperate the lesson you skipped with your recent absence, but apparently you are neglecting my consideration, Claire." He charmed, with mellow but monotonous voice. He sighed her name in such a hair-raising manner that Claire had to gulp down another gag of nausea. "It doesn't seem like how someone who is doing her best would behave."

Claire glared at him, but her endearing big blue eyes couldn't compete to his golden-streaked wells of perversion. Between all the crazy teachers she'd had in her school carrier so far, her new science teacher was the worst. A big fucking swine.

"Thanks, but I can study on my own. And if I'll ever need help, I got my brother Chris to reach out at home!" Claire stated, pulling her hands away those viscid paws but uselessly. Wesker didn't let her go that easily. His slimy hands slid to her wrist and tugged her closer to his towering frame and boastful smirk. Claire stood her ground and freed herself. Spelling Chris's name had instilled her courage and rage… lots of rage. Because now she perfectly knew what her brother had experienced and how bad he had felt when he'd been harassed by that same moron.

It was gut-wrenching.

"As you wish, Claire." Wesker purred, sniggering as he allowed her freedom. "I'll keep considering your behaviour in my valuations. When you'll wish to prevent all your nice As to be frustrated by your lack of respect, call over to me."

Claire wanted to puke. Had the fucker just tried to blackmail her?

Wesker put his glasses back on and quitted paying any attention to her.

Differently, disgust followed her outside and it stuck into the back of her throat for the rest of the morning. Not even the hot water she poured over her hands right after got to wash away the frosty shadows of Albert's fingers. She sensed them as they were still clutched around hers. She couldn't really walk the feeling off, not until she stayed in his hunting ground.

For the second time in a few hours, Claire felt alone.

She couldn't simply summon her girl friends but she could hole up in the arms of the sole person in the world able to make her feel good. She just had to wait for that morning to be over and then, finally, Chris would've made her forget everything with his restoring kisses.

Part 2 – Hello Kitty

"C'mon, Claire! Let me finish!" Chris laughed.

Chris imperatively had to finish his homework before going to the gym and work his ass off on a total-body workout but, with Claire spread like a buffet all over his desk, focusing on numbers was fairly difficult. Besides, since his copybook laid squashed under her head, writing was impossible. It was mid-afternoon, of one of those weekdays in which Chris's schedule was the busiest and he had to make every minute count but, on that day, his plans were meant to be screwed.

His sister had simply got into Man's Cave and, like a cat seeking cuddles, she had started teasing him at first, then rubbed against him and lastly, she claimed the due attentions by inserting her whole lusty body between her owner and his maths book.

"Cuddles." She mewled.

Chris jokingly threatened to write on her face with the highlighter but there was no way to make her desist. "Look, I'll draw a nice moustache right under your nose!"

"Not bad. If I can stand your stubble you can do the same with my tiny blue whiskers!" she giggled and pursed her lips into a kiss, raising her head to meet his and magnetize him into her mouth.

It was an unusual position for a kiss but none complained, the angle was rather weird, but it didn't affect the sharp pleasure that rushed through their limbs. Anytime Chris beckoned to raise his head, her hands would catch it and draw it down back to its place again – on her lips. He played along for a while, teasing her, but in the end he gave in, slid a forearm under her neck and focused only on smothering her with kisses.

"Do you know that if tomorrow I'm showing up without my homework done, Ada's gonna beat me up?" Chris said softly, alternating words with licks, kisses, tender bites and quiet hums.

Claire wide-eyed watched him as he spoke under closed eyes and caught his lower lip in her teeth as to don't let him go when he finished. She wanted, she needed some more of him. But eventually she decided to let him study and sat upright grumbling something about that bitch in pantyhose and a possible improper use of her stiletto heels. Albeit she had an immense want for him, she'd have waited until later that night. After all those times she had acted childish and unmindful in the last week, she wanted to show she could act as responsibly as him. Even if the sky would fall down, she'd have not failed him again.

"Alright. You study, nerd." She purred, smacking a kiss on his temple. "But tonight you're mine!"

"I'm always yours, baby." Chris cheered.

Claire hopped down the desk and slumped onto the big bed, grasping some random magazine she found on the nightstand. Outstretched crosswise and belly-down, she absently browsed the comic magazine until a satisfied grin popped up on her face as she felt the mattress lower and squeeze under her.

Not even the menace of a harsh reproach by the Evil Queen herself got to overcome Chris's burning desire his sister had so easily ignited. He laid down upon her, covering her like a blanket, being careful to grind her body without oppressing it and began kissing her neck from behind.

He knew her. Now that she was back behind her real face, he could read her like an open book and on that afternoon he had read disquietude. And nothing in the whole world was more important than giving her the medicine she needed.

"Just a few more minutes... okay?" He susurrated with a rough voice.

"A few minutes will do." Claire breathed in gratitude.

It was all it'd take her to feel good under his magic touch. Both were perfectly aware that they'd not get past a simple making-out as it was too early and risky but… it was almost snack time, right? What's wrong with having a snack to sedate the hunger? They'd reserve the main course for later.

"Are you doing anything on Sunday night?" Chris asked at some point while having fun in nibbling at her earlobe. Except me, my love.

"Are you asking me out?" She replied, resting her head on her arms crossed as to form a pillow.

"Not really. The boys will be there too."

"Oh, you want an old-style gangbang then!"

"You bimbo!" he snorted, adding just a little pinch of force in his bite, only that much enough to make her mewl in protest. "Ryman wants to introduce us his girl."

"Oh my God! He made a move on her then!" Claire gushed, smiling from ear to ear. "I knew he could get her! Her name's Pamela, right?"

"Mh-mh." Chris hummed, rubbing again on her, and resuming his trail of wet kisses below her jawline. "Speaking of, because of you now everyone thinks I'm sorta women's mind magician!"

"You're welcome." Claire sassed, closing her eyes.

In that awful month she had been inside his body, Claire had more than once dared to regale little hints at Kevin on how to make a good impression on that girl he met on the internet and wanted so bad to date. It was hard not to be a girl and to keep her spontaneity, curiosity and female wisdom at bay when it came to friends dating but, not to raise suspicions, she had always tried to keep it general, as she had no idea how her brother used to talk about girls with his mates. Anyway, she must've been a pretty convincing Chris as Kevin never quirked a single eyebrow at all her tips.

"By the way, what have I got to do with you guys?" Claire asked, moaning softly at his tender tease.

"Kevin asked us to bring some girls as well not to make her feel uneasy in a band of jerks like us."

"Isn't Piers enough?"

Chris guffawed amused. "No! Piers on a Sunday night means he's shitfaced by eight p.m.! And Carlos is still uncertain whether Sheva will want to hang out with us or not, so I thought I could ask you." And growling out a laugh he added "the alternative would be tucking Leon into a blonde wig and a tube skirt."

Claire laughed hard at such occurrence, giggling that it would be one helluva good show but it would've costed the reputation Pamela had of Kevin for sure. "I'll go out with you guys. I'm too curious to know her!"

That said, she turned turtle below him and welcomed him in her mouth anew, both moaning softly. He straddled her sides with his thick thighs and held her head with both hands. That position was dangerously hot, but Chris made sure to keep an ear out to be ready to buck aside at the slightest noise coming from the stairs.

Apparently, on that day the fate had other plans in store for Chris than either solving logarithms or indulging in a passionate exploration of his sister's cleavage with his lips, as in the turn of a few more minutes, the clear voice of their mother called them from downstairs, announcing they had visitors.

Huffing, Chris sat up next to her and slapped a sound pat on Claire's butt, who had turned away from him to replace his missing overhanging mass with his pillow. "Mom called both of us! Let's go, kitty!"

She mewled in protest and wiggled her legs, but eventually climbed off bed.

Waiting for them in the living room there were Leon, Rebecca and Jill. The surprise on the siblings' faces was surpassed only by the loudness of Claire's shout of joy as she ran into the arms of her two friends.

"Are you here to return the virus we lent you?" Chris joked, remindful of Carlos's airy-fairy suspicion.

"Oh girls, we thought you had fallen sick!" Claire smiled, happy to see them safe, sound and healthy.

The three guests exchanged a look that left the two Redfields perplexed. Something was off.

"We gotta talk." Leon stated in earnest face and determined voice.

Part 3 – Looming Dread

Claire had quitted minimizing as soon as they had recounted to have hidden inside the pantry, whereas Chris had fallen into a cautious silence since the very first mention of having heard them talk inside the closet in Girly Room – he remembered too well the level of his talking's explicitness and that alone was enough for him to shudder in fear even if, so far, Rebecca hadn't alluded to any… siblings planning to fuck in a walk-in closet.

The recount of their – allegedly not – private dialogues was so detailed and emphasized that it made them feel almost like two heretics under the scrutiny of the Inquisition.

Sitting on the two-seater sofa, both siblings strived to keep a neutral expression, a blank face that wouldn't betray the whirlwind of emotions that raged within their chests. When she was growing nervous he was growing scared. Although when they showed them the photos of their tests – the evidence – none of them was anymore able to hide anything and their faces transfigured into two canvases of ravaging feelings.

Chris gritted his teeth in jitters.

Where did those three get off to show up in their house to snoop then and to put the screws on them to confess their secret now?! Who did they think they are?! Furthermore… which secrets did they know? How much had they really overheard and how much more of what they'd discovered they were keeping from them?

Chris blanched.

What if… what if they had figured out everything? Ultimately, if he and his sister hadn't succeeded into keeping secret the body-swap in spite of all their efforts, who assured them that also all the precautions they were taking to protect their newly blossomed incestuous love couldn't be as easily violated? Or worse… who assured them it hadn't been violated yet?

That ought not to happen! Chris would've never let anyone – anyone! – to nose around in his intimacy scot-free!

"How can such a bullshit even cross your minds?" Chris lowly blustered on the defensive, maybe in one last thinly concealed, desperate attempt in denying the obvious or maybe… as a last warning that they were crossing a line they better not cross.

"Oh, maybe 'cause we're like... your friends?" Rebecca reposted, planting her clenched fists onto her hips to underline her firmness.

"Friends don't eavesdrop, snoop and pry into what's none of their fucking business!" Chris snarled like a dog ready to assault an intruder, causing everyone – Claire included – to shudder at his overweening burst of anger.

"Easy, son."

The warm, charming voice of Robert Redfield intervened from behind the couch his kids were sitting on. His calm tone was like a bucket of fresh water sloshed into a room that had abruptly heated-up. He emerged from the entrance of the staircase that led to the basement where he had descended earlier as the boiler needed some fixing. As it apparently had become quite a habit in that house to eavesdrop, Robert had leaned against the thin plasterboard wall that separated the stairs from the living room and had carefully listened to every word the three young guests had spelled. He cursed himself for his imprudence back on Friday, he should've checked no one was around – even if groping a girl inside the pantry was hands-down a commendable move!

"Denying any further is pointless." Robert said, approaching the sofas the young crowd occupied and rested a warm hand on his firstborn's shoulder, to soothe his nerves and to reassure him that he got this. "And also harmful, I dare say."

Robert called his wife to come over and join him in the living room. While Lily sat beside her children, Rob adjusted himself upon the bordeaux pouffe and mentally questioned himself one last time about the opportunity to go further. The downcast gaze of his daughter and the edgy look on his son's face washed away the last shreds of doubts. They had been even too obedient to the burdensome imposition of secrecy he and the company he worked for had subjugated them to. It was about time to slacken the leash.

It was with a sombre tone that the scientist recounted of the heartstopping accident that blasted into his underground lab and its extraordinary outcome, then of how he and his team of brainiacs had managed to fix everything only after a hardest month during which his kids had to yield to play the one the role of the other, learning against their will to live with an everyday life that was anything but pleasant or easy or familiar.

Albeit the guests already had the proofs of the ungodly truth in their palms since the previous night, the accurate telling left them speechless. Hadn't they seen with their very own eyes the unequivocal traces in black and white, and hadn't they a great esteem of their friends' father as a certainly trustworthy adult, they'd have had a hard time in gulping down that story. It still was unbelievable. The thought that such perilous, nuclear-materials involving experiments were carried so close to their houses was uncanny.

And it was heart-breaking. The details of the explosion pierced their hearts. Metaphorically, the thick glass screen was still flinging shards after all that time.

Rebecca was listening with the smug face of a police officer that after lengthy investigations had lastly gotten her hands on the tip-off she'd been waiting for so long. The puzzle had finally come to a solution and it pictured a twisted story of sci-fi horror.

Jill, instead, she looked condescendingly at Claire's father, utterly unimpressed by his words. Among those who had knocked at the Redfields' door on that sunny afternoon, she had been the most reluctant. Her scepticism was hard to give in and not even the collected evidence had really managed to convince her that for a whole month she had been side to side with a totally different person without noticing. Of course, she had to admit that Claire's handwriting was undoubtedly not hers, but to believe the unbelievable was an entirely different thing! She needed to ruminate it all a little more.

Leon, lastly, was the one morally more involved in that discussion. All that story was provoking his conscience on several sides.

"Mister Redfiel-"

"Call me Robert, son."

"Robert, is this machinery of yours still in the hands of Umbrella?"

"Yes, sure." The older man shrugged, not really foreseeing where the boy was driving at with his question and his good-heartedness brimming, limpid eyes.

"Such an infernal contraption ought to be destroyed immediately!" Leon exclaimed, surprising everyone with his alarmed tone.

"Son…"

"Call me Leon."

"Leon, I don't get why I should outright flush hours of the hardest work of my career down the drain!" Robert bluntly replied, feigning to be offended whilst, conversely, a disingenuous gleam glistened in his sky-blue gaze.

"Think about it, sir! You all think about it!" Leon spelled, standing up and addressing to the confused audience that stared at him wide-eyed. "If this devilry allows people to transfer a person into the body of another, it will turn out as the greatest danger for mankind since Nazism!"

"Leon, aren't you overstating it?" Rebecca snickered. "Even worse than Hitler. C'mon!"

"Yes, Becky!" Leon continued, without losing his typical politeness and courteous tone but neither softening the scolding look that ripped the smile off the girl's face. "Such a machinery will just let everyone to assure themselves eternal life by simply passing from a body to another!"

"So what? The whole medical science has been aiming to it for centur-" Rebecca tried to rebut without having truly gotten the gist of the boy's words. Before she'd have spelled anything stupid, Leon cut her off, with a scandalized voice.

"Think of the worldwide human trafficking it will lead to!" he yelled, heated-up and scared before turning again to stare dead into Robert's eyes. "How many millions of people will be seized, enslaved, exploited or even conceived to allow some upper crust moneybags the privilege to do not die?!"

The blond boy's heartfelt words froze the living room.

Whereas his inquiry-mates had focused only on the petty consequences that involved their friends, Leon had been far more clear-sighted and his mind had fast jumped to conclusions there were not even that much unlikely.

"You're really insightful, Leon. I like you, kid!" Robert said at some point, looking at him with the same fatherly admiration he usually addressed to his son. "As far as your theory might seem a realistic menace, I can assure you that Umbrella has not even the slightest intention to use this new technology. They set to dismantle it."

"Oh, yes, sir. And do you believe it?" Leon scoffed. "I don't think the fat cats leading your company will have many scruples before the perspective of unheard-of earnings!"

"You're right, clever boy! They won't. They never did and will never start!" Robert replied. "The Umbrella Corporation is a pharmaceutical industry, let's keep it in mind. We make money off of mankind's illnesses if you want to put it that way." And shifting onwards, Robert glanced a sly and amused look at the boy. "Now you tell me, son, which pharmaceutical company would ever be so stupid and short-sighted to trade eternal life? Immortality?"

Leon faltered. His silence offered Robert the chance to hush and nip in the bud those perspicacious but wrong convictions before they'd turn into dangerous rumours. Temporarily putting off the tone of the loving pater familias to pick up the one of the diligent scientist loyal to the organization he belongs to.

"The Umbrella has all the interest in maintain human beings mortal and vulnerable, and fearful of death, as to sell them its medicines and vaccines. Believe me Leon, they make so much money that any other alternative is inconvenient! Death is our greater alley as it compels people to ask for a cure." He said without caring much of looking cynical. "And I'll tell you more son, I myself have signed a non-disclosure agreement regarding the whole matter and the discoveries done by me and the fellow scientists under my lead specifically to prevent that unprincipled other companies might set their sights on our people-switcher. That's why I expect you all to do the same!" he added, staring intensely at each one of the teens sitting in front of him, his kids included.

Rebecca gulped down the bitter pill and nodded, not caring to hide a certain emotion. Jill's face was inscrutable but sadness was rising fast under her skin. Lastly, Leon. After holding the meaningful gaze of the older man, his look eventually dropped to the ground.

"If you care about mankind's fate, you can all use my kids as an example and shut up about anything you heard today." Robert said, just to coerce the concept into the minds of three teenagers and, at last, to lead the discussion back to the laudable behaviour his children had kept at cost of unmentionable sorrow. "Whatever it takes. However it hurts."

Those last words had the hoped effect.

Jill, Rebecca and Leon averted their eyes onto the two siblings who, holding hands, had remained silent all the time. Listening to their father narrative of all the events that since that infamous 24th of September had fucked up their serenity was like mentally relive a nightmare, that now surfaced on their strung-up faces.

The three couldn't help but feeling a tug at the heart for the apologizing looks on their friends. They had showed up to rub at their faces that they had uncovered their house of cards and were ready to offer their help but they had ended up pitying them and feeling guilty instead.

"Let's go, darling." Lily said to her husband, giving one last stroke on her son's wide back before standing up. "Let's give them some privacy now."

The only two adults had barely the time to disappear behind the dining room wall that Rebecca and Jill rushed into Claire's arms, all of them sobbing quietly, even though Claire smiled, happy to have her best friends back by her side and relieved as she had to lie to them no more.

Leon and Chris instead exchanged just a swift fleeting glance, before the big older guy looked away, massaging his temples nervously. Chris eventually stood up and headed to the front door, most likely because he wanted to run away the tempest of questions Rebecca was pouring down on his sister rather than he needed to walk. "Wanna smoke." He just said, bringing his wide shoulders out of the living room.

Leon was unsure on how to interpret it. Was it an invitation to share a cigarette or did his friend just wish to be alone and mind his own business? Leon was fairly sure the second option was the rightest, but he followed him outside all the same. Alike the girls, they needed to talk too.

This chapter is growing longer than I imagined so, once again, you'll have to settle for a three parted release.

Next part will come out next week. Until then, let me know what you think about it so far or what your guesses are for what's coming.

:D

P.S. Oh, yeah, I loved writing the Wesker scene.