Author's Note: This is my account of the events BEFORE Resident Evil 4. The title I commandeered from Smashing Pumpkins, because it suits it too well. Rated M for violence, gore, language, and sex among other things. Enjoy all. D:

Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil or it's characters.

Bullet With Butterfly Wings

Prologue

A laser printer was smoothly shelling out pages, the machine working quickly and silently in the dimly lit office. The subtle noise that it did make wouldn't have been heard anyways; a sleek, minimalist stereo system of black wood and shining chrome was playing the dreamy-sounding light and distorted bass and guitar intro of the Depeche Mode track "I Want It All". One wall of the expansive room was composed entirely of a high-definition LCD screen that served as a computer monitor, how odd that something so large retained so much light. The large chair in the middle of the room looked like an ominous sci-fi movie prop with its arm-mounted, luminous keyboards and touchpads. The chair still had a faint indention of its occupant, the seat had been left only a short moment ago. On the far side of the room, a large desk composed of teakwood dyed and polished to a perfect dark grey. The desktop lacked the familiar decor of photos and plants, having a metal desk organizer to which a flexible lamp was mounted, the steadily working laser printer, and a second, much smaller sleek laptop sitting open and running. The large, leather office chair behind the desk held the office's owner. The business suit he donned was entirely black; suit, jacket, dress shirt, tie, all of it. It gave an apperance of a body disappearing into the shadow, his pale face and bright blonde hair standing out in the light of the laptop. Eyes were shrouded by dark sunglasses that were perpetual in their presence. A single gloved hand was raised, the leather shining lightly in the monitor light as it ran over the laptop touchpad. Albert Wesker, six years dead and still holding an image that was as sinister as ever. It had been quite a busy time ever since the fiasco that was the Spencer Mansion. Much work in regaining credibility, which was a trial thanks to a certain pair of siblings. The Easter egg hunt of finding former Umbrella employees and coaxing them away from their comfortable little jobs, and then the B.O.W. project that Wesker had started nearly twenty years ago coming to a head. How convenient that he wasn't human anymore, at his age he would hardly be in the shape for stress. The laser printer gave a light beep to announce the completion of its task and Wesker retireved the stately stack it had made. Two minutes of work and several hundred pages of various e-mailed reports from the regrowing international branches. Lovely, Wesker would have something to pour over with his evening cup of coffee. Sighing, Wesker quickly separated the reports written by their respective authors and fed the seperated stacks under an electronic stapler. This was becoming trite. All this paperpushing was nothing but busywork, really. Wesker was trying to keep himself from growing anxious and impatient about the concept that he had birthed in the old Spencer labs. Any minute now it would be squirming, showing some sign of life. If it woke up, sweet heaven above, it would be a miracle. Wesker would gladly take it's big to giving a small twitch if nothing else, wrinkles could be ironed out. And speaking of wrinkles in the fabric, Ms. Ada Wong was going to be in for quite a treat later today. Wesker could see the color draining from her pretty face already...

The door to the lavish office suddenly flew open, as a scrawny scientist poured in. His hair was a slicked back, ebony and he wore the traditional white lab coat, paired with black slacks an one of those god-aweful golf t-shirts. Your typical scientist, he was. He was sweating, panting even as he stopped to catch his breath. "S-Sir.. It's.." he could barely speak now, and now realized if the news he held wasn't so important, he could indefinately be fired. Or worse. This was Albert Wesker. He couldn't believe he'd continued with this project so long. A number of years ago, he'd had a run-in with Wesker's old co-workers, William Birkin, who had been working on the infamous G-Virus. He'd almost let this project slip, which would've cost him his head with Wesker. Birkin seemed so overly confident about it, and it ammused him a little. If Birkin had a grave, he'd certainly be doubling over in it right now, yelling, screaming, kicking like a toddler throwing a hissy fit. Now all their work had finally paid off. She was awake. And quite a beauty if he did think so himself. He looked up towards his Boss, barely getting out the words as he shook violently. "...It's.. waking up.." he finally managed to say, sweat dripping down his cheeks from a long night of hell.

Wesker said nothing to the rude entry, simply turning his chair towards the scientist as he reclined. He watched the man display his clearly sub-par physical condition with an inwardly baited breath. No scientist working under him was ever bold enough to make such an abrupt entry if there wasn't a good reason. This just had to be the news he was waiting for. Oh, if only good ol' William wasn't dead. Being able to see that annoyingly confident grin on his face get knocked away like a swift slap to the face would be worth more than gold. "She is awakening..." He stated calmly, belying the sharp sensation of his stomach tying into excited knots. This was what Wesker had been waiting for, years and years of painstaking work were about to pay off. "Thank you for informing me at the expense of your energy, it shows that you genuinely know the meaning of urgency. I will come to the lab shortly, you return now as swiftly as you can and relay that I want every scientist in this facility in that lab ASAP." Success was left in the hands of fate now. Would it work in his favor?

The scientist hobbled out of the office, hurrying down the long hallways towards the elevator. He could barely get out the words as he told a couple scientists the news, and also to spread the word. Even with the overwhelming excitement that was slowly boiling over within, he just wanted to get home, and sleep for about 20 years. He'd been there since the near beginning, and was hoping all of this work wasn't just another flop.

It only took about 8 minutes exactly for the word to get out. Literally hundreds of scientists piled into the small laboratory, awaiting years and years of hard work to pay off. The loud chatter between each scientist filled the lab, they all waiting for the notorious Albert Wesker. Most of them had barely caught a glimpse of the man, even with years of his employment. He was always behind the scenes, dictating his lackeys from the seat in his office, on the highest floor of the facility. He had only called two scientists up there, even after all of these years.. Just two.. One was promoted, given his very own lab and lackeys to do as he pleased. The other.. Who knew what had happened to him. Some of the others had made some heinous ordeal about it. Saying there was a hidden lab somewhere and he'd become just another expirament. But who was to know? Or care, for that matter. It was just your daily banter between co-workers. Nothing serious. Anyhow, they now awaited for his arrival. He would have the honor of unveiling this long overdue project.

Only five minutes passed before the hydraulic door of the crowded lab smoothly slid open, displaying Wesker's imposing visage to the occupants. He said nothing to them, nodding to a couple of scientists that gave him humble greetings as he slowly strode into the room. His hands were tucked behind his back, giving him a leisurely apperance when in reality, he was trying to keep himself from clenching them into white-knuckled fists. "Twenty years, people." Wesker called out in a room that had grown silent in his presence. "Two very long and arduous decades of work. All of the research we put into this projecet, the nerves that were frayed as we worried of being found out. So much of our life given to give birth to a creature far superior to the B.O.W. known as the Tyrant." His steps were slow and deliberate as he stared ahead, the scientists parting before him like water as he approached the holding tank that stood in the center of the room. "But, we cannot rest on our laurels and celebrate just yet. Oh, no, we cannot. Fate is a cruel, cruel entity and we can only be so certain that it has riled our child from its slumber. If so, then we may rejoice. If not, well, we will still have much work set before us, won't we?" Albert paused as he reached the center of the room, lifting his shielded gaze up to the tank to lay eyes upon what he had lost sleep over on more than one occasions. A living representation of the countless theories and experimentations that he poured hours into. This, alive or forever locked in stasis, was his magnum opus. Turning his gaze to the waiting scientist at the tank's control monitor, Wesker nodded to the man with a small smile on his lips. "Release her from stasis." He spoke in a low tone, if he raised his volume any higher, the eager shiver in his voice would have been evident to the others.

A/N: Enjoy all, until next time.