Chris Redfield walked down the corridor with a confident and fast step. The thud of heavy boots echoed down the empty corridor, dull and gloomy, like the owner of the shoes himself. Chris's face was overgrown with stubble, his expression was haggard, bags under his eyes, tired eyes, furrowed eyebrows. He walked forward boldly, but he felt as if he was being led to execution. A gray-haired man, a head shorter than a military man, was trotting next to him. He was holding documents in his hands, which he lifting up in the air, gesturing during the conversation, but never once cast a single glance at them. The man talked a lot, quickly, ingratiatingly, taking advantage of the last moments to explain what Chris would need to do.
"Fuck it all!" Chris break down and stopped abruptly turned around and stared at the doctor. The latter flinched, but stopped also, raising his head to look Chris in the eyes.
"Without further ado, tell me again, what exactly do you want from me?"
The man sighed. It was obvious that his previous words hadn't been given due attention. He gathered his thoughts and began to explain what he had explained already more than once in a more measured way.
"You should talk to her. Just get her talking. This is your priority task. She trusts you, and therefore…"
Chris interrupted him unceremoniously.
"What makes you think that? Why do you think that she will trust me, after I left her alone for eight months, here, without ever coming…"
"But it wasn't your decision."
"Why should she believe that? Why should she believe that I haven't found not a single way? I left her here instead of protecting her. How is this better than what she had to go through?"
"Mr. Redfield, let's not be overdramatic and throw a tantrum." Chris exhaled and closed his eyes, trying to calm his inflamed nerves. "Your task is to talk to her. And maybe then, she will be able to get out of here to freedom. Explain this to her."
"Why now? Why do you need my help right now?"
"We've already discussed this…"
"Let's discuss it again. I hear the same phrases every time, but you still can't fully explain to me what the hell is going on."
The doctor began to look around, his eyes darting anxiously from side to side. Apparently having made up his mind, he looked back at Chris.
"She's protecting him."
"I don't know what the hell you mean." Chris was starting to boil again. He had heard this a hundred times before, but each time he didn't receive the details.
"All right… We were trying to ask her what exactly they did to her, since our tests and analyzes don't give any results. But she just doesn't answer."
"And you didn't think that she might just not know it. He can have kept her in cryosleep and then put the damn device on her."
"She knew about his drug."
"Yes, but that doesn't mean that he reported to her for what he did to her."
"Chris," the doctor looked at the man calmly, trying to sound as reasonable as possible. "She told us that all our scientists with their small brains are simply incapable to cognize what we are trying to understand. And that there is not a single decent mind among us who could deal with this. And this is a quote."
"Well, obviously she's right" Chris chuckled, smirking unkindly. "You have been keeping her here for almost a year, but you haven't been able to find answers to your questions."
"If she had been more accommodating…"
"And why should she trust you at all, talk to you? You have locked her almost in a cage, you don't let anyone near her."
"Chris, it's for her own good. No one knows exactly what she had to go through. What if she's still under the influence."
"Fuck this shit. He controlled her, yes, but we tore off this damn device from her, the P-30 doesn't work for a long, and the person who controlled her is boiling in lava. Put this reasoning away, Doctor."
"Chris, this is not the only oddity in her behavior."
"But no one is going to explain it to me, I suppose."
"It's hard to explain. There are no obvious deviations here, only hints…"
"Oh, my God," Chris growled. "Let's just get this over with. I'll do everything in my power if it helps Jill get out of here. But if you communicate with her as you do with me, I can understand her."
Chris continued on his way again, cursing the damn organization. How could it be that their greatest victory turned into their greatest defeat. To find out that she's not dead, to bring Jill back alive, only to lose her again.
The closer Chris got to the double doors, the more anxious and insecure he felt. The dim greenish light of the fluorescent lamps crackling under the ceiling was making the situation more tense, reminding him of all the missions and laboratories that he had gone through. But it was one thing to communicate with a worthless doctor, or kill zombies, and it was quite another to communicate with Jill. The risk of death was making Chris stronger, but seeing the person he thought he had betrayed again was much worse. And Chris didn't know how she would react to him.
They passed the double doors, and Chris could hear his heart pounding in his head. A series of rooms-cells, in one of them she was. Like some violent psycho, like an animal.
As soon as they entered the corridor, they were joined by two male nurses, both strong and tall men.
"My God," Chris thought. "They are so afraid of her."
"I'll give you half an hour, an hour, depending on how the conversation goes."
"Will you listen?"
"Yes, she has round-the-clock audio and video surveillance."
Chris clenched his jaw and squeezed his eyes shut, barely restraining himself from hitting the doctor. If he makes a scandal, he would simply not be allowed to see Jill at all, and this was a great motivation for Chris to control himself.
"Well, it simplifies my task, I won't have to try to explain to you why you're wrong," Chris spat out and entered the open door in front of him. As soon as he crossed the threshold, the door slammed shut and the beep of an electronic lock was heard.
Chris took a quick look at the room. It wasn't big, but not too small either. Bare white walls, a small sink with a mirror, a metal bed with a mattress, pillow and blanket, a small table and a chair next to it. The bed, table, and chair were bolted to the floor. The room had two small windows near the ceiling, both tightly closed. The floor was decorated with tiles. No carpets, no curtains, no paintings or flowers. It was a real cage. However, what caught Chris ' eye was the figure cowering on the bed. She was lying with her back to him, curled up in the shape of an embryo. Even thinner than he remembered the last time he saw her. Her hair was slightly longer, but it was still completely white.
Heard the door open, she half rose up abruptly and turned to look at the newcomer.
"Jill..." Chris breathed out and felt that he was ready to suffocate from the rising tears, there was a lump in his throat. He needed to take her somewhere to a secret place, hide her, not let anyone know that she was alive. Sheva and Josh would have supported him, helped him. Lord, what had he done?
Chris shrank up all over, expecting the coldest reception possible. She might even try to fight him. He will allow it. She deserved it.
"Chris!" – he heard an excited, joyful voice, and Jill Valentine, with a beaming face, jumped out of bed. In two jumps, she approached him and hugged him tightly. A few moments later, she pulled away from him to examine his face.
"Oh my God, Chris" there was a wide smile on her face, Jill almost laughed, covering her mouth with one hand in delight, as if not believing in what was happening and trying to somehow control her emotions. "I can't believe it! They let you come to me!" She pulled away from him and grabbed his arm, dragging him deeper into the room.
"My God, come in, come in quickly, sit on the bed. I was asking them to put another chair, but they are so stubborn, just awful!" Jill looked around, as if wondering what to show the unexpected guest first.
"I don't have many stuff here" she sat Chris down on the bed next to her and climbed on it with her feet. "I'm glad there is a table and a chair here at least. And they never open the windows, can you imagine. How many times have I not asked for this! They say that ventilation is quite enough. You know, Chris, what I'll tell you, it's not!"
Chris watched her in silence, not knowing how to react to such an enthusiastic meeting. If you spent eight months within these walls, wouldn't you be happy to see someone new? Or is what is happening to her now much better than what she had to endure with him? Or does she believe that he has come to take her home?
Chris sat huddled, feeling constrained and smiling tightly. He tried to force himself to relax, because Jill would feel everything, but he just couldn't. The mission assigned to him didn't make things easier, lying like a heavy weight on his shoulders.
Jill kept twittering, it seemed that she didn't notice Chris's tension at all, or noticed, but understood and tried to make things easier. It's just like Jill.
"They don't allow me to read or write. This is just a disaster. And they hardly talk to me! They're afraid of me! Oh, my God, they're so afraid of me. But it's even funny, to be honest. I even like it. They probably know what I'm capable of. However, they tell me what day it is today at least. Truly, the food is not very good, look how I lost weight." she looked down at her belly. "But this is normal. I understand why they are doing all this. And how are you? How's Barry? Claire? Rebecca? By the way, what about Sheva and Josh? Damn, there must have been so many things have happened. When I'll get out of here, the first thing I'll do is call everyone to the bar. Let's get drunk to hell and bomb it with all the fun." Jill threw her head up, smiling dreamily.
Chris wondered if this was what Jill had been doing all this time. Dreamed, came up with options for her return to the world. He was afraid if she really went crazy from such conditions of detention and fixated on the world she had invented. But Jill distracted him from his thoughts by pulling on his forearm. "Come on, Chris, tell me everything!"
"Jill" His voice was hoarse and restrained. "Everyone is doing well, really. In fact, there is no news… We don't have much time, actually."
"I understand... yes... Then tell me the most important thing. As you understand, my life here doesn't please me with the variety. Although I know that Dr. Breen is pregnant with Dr. Smith's child, but she hides it. They thought I was dreaming when Breen and Mrs. Wams were discussing it" Jill giggled merrily. "But it's hardly very interesting for you."
Chris was amazed that Jill was trying to remain optimistic, even in such a situation, finding entertainment in small things. He chuckled to himself, in any case, the news about the doctors was no longer a secret, given that Jill was being monitored around the clock. Unless, of course, she invented these doctors to make her life more fun. Did someone really come here and talk about their personal life? Or did they not know about the surveillance?
None of this mattered, it mattered that his Jill was in front of him. Still the same. His Jill... And he relaxed a little and smiled more sincerely.
Jill leaned closer to him and whispered, loudly enough, in his ear.
"And also, I'm terribly dreaming about a bath." She inhaled dreamily. "About a huge Jacuzzi with bubbles. And a lot of foam, so that you feel that you are almost suffocating, but you can't remove it from yourself." Jill laughed.
Chris thought about it. The dream of a hot tub, from where it is in Jill? How often she used to enjoy jacuzzi and long bathing before? Was it really her dreams that had brought her so far? Or would it not be a dream? Memories from the past that were inaccessible to him... foam that you can't push away... without someone's order? Chris looked at Jill anxiously, but she jumped out of her seat and began to spin around the room. Was it the doctor who made him suspicious of everything she did or said?
"I try to work out regularly, keeping myself in fighting shape. Of course, the conditions here are terrible, but you know, I was perfectly prepared and such skills are not so easy to lose. Those guys who are guarding me, I could easily scatter them around. To break the neck to one, and to break the spine to other. But I'm not going to do that, you know."
What Jill was saying was terrible. At the same time, Chris began to guess that apparently Jill was known that she is being watched, and was saying all this on purpose, so that they are afraid of her. It was unreasonable and irrational behavior, but he could understand it. She's just tired of being a prey. Sitting in the cage, it is much more pleasant to feel like a predator than cattle that raising for slaughter.
Jill finally stopped walking and came back to him. She stood looking down at him tilting her head with interest. She was serious, though peaceful.
"So why did you come, Chris?"
Chris shuddered. Least of all, he wanted to talk to her about it. To remind her of all the horrors that she had to go through.
"I would like to say that I came to pick you up..." Chris cursed himself inwardly. Why was it necessary to say this? To remind of what you can't do. Stupidly. No, even cruel, rather cruel.
"I know that, Chris. You shouldn't worry about this. And I don't blame you for anything." Jill smiled sadly at him. "What do they want you to do?" so perceptive.
"Just to talk? They seem to have decided to give you a little more freedom. Jill, you won't believe how I felt when I heard that I would be allowed to see you. I have been trying to achieve this for so long…"
"Enough." Jill snapped, her voice harsh. She repeated it more softly. "Enough Chris. There is no reason trying to make excuses for what you can't control." This coldness in her voice, this intonation, she reminded Chris of a completely different person, the one about whom he was sent to talk to her.
"You're right, of course." don't start whining, Chris. She needs support, not complaints. "No matter why they sent me here, no matter what purpose they pursue, it doesn't matter, the most important thing is that I can see you again, talk to you, hug you."
Jill looked at him carefully, her face was relaxed, there was a slight smile, but too detached and cold.
"Do they really not let you read? This is some kind of sadism," Chris muttered, trying to turn the conversation to another topic.
"Uh-huh," Jill mumbled affirmatively, "it's their psychological game." a contemptuous expression appeared on her face, as if she was watching the work of the absolute dilettantes and was extremely dissatisfied with what she saw.
"What do you mean? What for?"
Jill sat down on the bed next to him again and threw her head back with a loud sigh.
"They think that if they put me in such harsh conditions, I will break down psychologically and start doing what they want. To say what they want. They don't seem to know who they've associated."
"Huh" said Chris "They don't even know what you've been through."
"Exactly" Jill snapped sharply. "Stupid and ridiculous."
"You've experienced something similar before, Jill. Isn't it? And you managed to cope with it, to get through it." Jill tilted her head with interest and leaned forward, trying to get a better look at Chris's face.
"Do you think so?"
"I...I.. I don't know, Jill. I didn't have a chance to find out… But if you want to share, I'm ready to listen. Because…" A cheerful expression appeared on Jill's face, she smirked. Just like him.
"Really? Where should I start telling you, mmm? From the part where I became a super soldier? With details of how to achieve this. Write down the recipe, guys. Or maybe it's better from the moment when I tried to save my partner and fell out of the window?"
Chris swallowed hard. All the lightness and relaxation that he had begun to feel was immediately washed away. He looked at her glowing eyes, that appraising look, contempt and condescension for someone weaker and so absurdly naive.
"Jill... I…"
"Well, what is it, Chris? Don't you want to hear this heartbreaking story again? Only now from someone else's mouth. I bet you had to retell it in all its details many times."
Jill got up and went to the wall with the windows.
"They want to know Jill. I don't want you to suffer, but this is your chance to get out of here, Jill. I would never bring up this topic, make you relive all this horror again."
"Stop it! That's enough, Chris. I don't want to talk about it."
"But why?" Chris started to get annoyed. "Why not tell them what they want to hear, instead of trying to intimidate them, and get out of here?"
"Tell what? Do you understand what they want, Chris? They want to get a serum that can create intelligent, controlled soldiers who have superpowers, but remain human. And they definitely plan to do this not with good intentions. But you know what, Chris. Even if I wanted to tell them something, their pathetic little minds simply wouldn't be enough to understand. None of them are capable of handling this."
"Jill. This doesn't mean that there is no chance for you here. You don't know anything, do you?"
"Maybe..."
"And I think you can tell them everything you can. Like when you told Sheva and me..."
"Don't talk about it!" Jill cut him off abruptly.
"OK. Let's not talk about it if you don't want to. But Jill, I'm sure there will be someone who can understand everything if you direct them and…"
"There was only one person who was able to understand. But we killed him…"
Chris's eyes widened in surprise and shock. He was gulping for air, but couldn't utter a word. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Did it seem to him, or was she sorry?
"Jill..." he gasped.
"Chris, you'd better go away…"
"What? I…"
"Really. I won't tell you anything. I know why you're here. But I'm not going to tell you anything."
"But you have to, Jill. They keep you in a cage like an animal! Without light, without air, without contact with the outside world. How are they better than him? They must to understand that you don't know anything. That they are subjecting you again to the horrors that this bastard made you go through!"
"Don't dare!" Jill flew up to Chris in an instant, looming over him.
"What? I thought it seemed to me. Jill, are you really protecting him?"
"It's none of your mind."
"Jill!"
"How are we better than him, Chris?! How am I better than him?"
"What?" an understanding of what was happening finally flashed through his mind. Guilt. That's what it was. He turned her into his puppet, forced her to do terrible things, and for these eight months she was forced to stew in this, her own thoughts, memories and regrets. Alone.
"Jill. I know Wesker put you through hell."
"Stop it, Chris! You don't know a damn thing!"
"I know, I know this bastard too well." Chris hissed.
"Don't you dare call him that!" She was screaming.
Chris got up from his seat and grabbed her by the shoulders. So fragile, so small and delicate, but still so strong in spirit Jill.
"It's not your fault. It's all him."
"I asked you..."
"Jill, it's all his fault. It's on his conscience."
"That's not true."
"It's true! Listen to me, you're not responsible for what you did while you were under his control, Jill. Wesker is the devil, and his place is in the hellfire, where he is now residing."
Jill suddenly cringed and stared straight ahead. Her eyes were glazed, her lower lip and eyelids trembled slightly. If it hadn't been Jill, she would have been crying by now.
"Jill, look what that bastard did to you. What has he turned you into… You don't have to…"
Jill freed herself from Chris's hands and turned away. Slowly, she went to the mirror. Chris found a moment to be surprised that they allowed her a mirror. But looking closer, realized that it was part of a tile on the wall. If she tried to tear out the glass, they would have noticed and had time to react. Full control.
"Look at me, Chris," she said, examining her pale face and body. "I look like a ghost."
Chris swallowed again.
"All because I died. There, on the rocks in front of Spencer's mansion. I crashed on the rocks, Chris. Shattered into small pieces. Look what happened to me."
Chris grimaced as if he himself was experiencing all the pain that she had to endure.
She raised her hand and touched her hair. Then the hand slowly moved to the cleavage area, where the scars were, which, although less noticeable, were still clearly distinguishable.
"Look at these scars, Chris..."
Chris squeezed his eyes shut and licked his dry lips. He was afraid of this, afraid of this conversation.
"This is terrible, Jill. That's exactly what I'm talking about."
"The scars, Chris. Horrible scars…"
Chris nodded.
She turned to face him, looking intently into his eyes.
"I fell from God knows what height, Chris" she hissed angrily. "I died there, in this mansion. I made this decision myself, I made this choice myself. He didn't throw me out of the window. He didn't make me jump. I gave my life for you myself."
Chris lowered his eyes. What could he say to that? But he was simply unable to look her in the eye. The guilt he felt all this time didn't become less. Jill paid no attention to this, she continued to talk.
"There's no way in the world you could have reached me in time, given the weather and the distance. And even if a miracle happened and you had time, you would have caught my last breath. If everything had become even more improbable, you would have managed to get me to the hospital in time, or, oh, gods, something incredible would have happened and I would have survived. Was I something more than just a vegetable? Would I had been able to continue saving the world, or would I be more like Spencer in his wheelchair? Pathetic and helpless."
"Jill…"
"I died, Chris. You have to admit it. Scars you say. Terrible? My body smashed against the rocks, and all I came out of it with were small changes in appearance: slightly lighter skin, blonde hair and a few scars on my chest, which any plastic surgeon can easily cope with."
Her voice was hard and assertive. She was attacking and all of Chris's confidence melted again. Guilt consumed him. And she was damn right.
"I'm standing here with you, walking and talking only because of him, Chris. Because only he, of all people, had been able not only to save me, but also to keep me safe and sound. Scars. What a small thing, Chris. You're blaming him for what he did to me. That he was holding me captive, that I was his uncomplaining soldier. Why don't you give him credit for the fact that you even have the opportunity to talk to me, to see me, without being forced to destroying my mutated body? You know, being grateful for a life saved is the least I can do and you can't take it away from me."
"Yes, Jill. You may be right."
"I'm right!"
"Yes, but he didn't do it out of the kindness of his heart. Jill, he wanted to use you against me, and you didn't mutate just because of your unique blood."
"And yet, Chris, we both came out of this alive and unharmed, while he died."
"The strongest wins, doesn't it? He always appreciated worthy opponents, and was able to accept defeat, knowing when to retreat and admit someone's superiority."
Jill laughed soundlessly, without a trace of a smile on her face.
"The strongest, you say? Again, as before, you take all the credit for yourself, don't you, Redfield?"
He could hear him in her words, in her voice, in her intonations, see him in her gestures and facial expressions. It was fascinating and frightening.
"Do you think this is all really happy turn of events, mmm, Chris? Is it an accident that you found out that I'm alive? That he revealed all his cards to you, but never ordered me to kill you? That I knew everything about his drug? That he never shot you himself? And the plane fell into a volcano, while his project was afraid of high temperatures? A chain of accidental and tragic coincidences, in the plan of someone who was always a few steps ahead and could easily calculate any of your actions in advance. As he had done many times before."
"What are you trying to say, Jill?"
"I'm not trying to say you anything. I don't want to talk to you at all, Chris."
She emphasized his name, slightly stretching out the vowel letter.
Chris stood dumbfounded. He didn't understand what was going on. What Jill mean by this and why she was acting so weird, not like her at all. This crazy meeting was beginning to turn into his nightmare.
"Did he mistreat you?" Beat you? Did he rape you, Jill?"
Jill looked at him in surprise, turning her head slowly. Chris continued to stand with lowered eyes, avoiding meeting hers.
"He's not. Never."
"And what were you doing?" he asked with a disappointed semblance of a smile on his face.
"We were talking. A lot. About many things."
"Did he talk? Or did he was letting you talk? Maybe he was ordering to answer?" Jill was looking at him like he was insane.
"What the hell are you talking about, Chris? Haven't you studied the P-30 reports? He couldn't use it all the time, otherwise you wouldn't be able to talk to me right now, because my mind would have turned into jelly."
"What do you mean by that? That you were under his control not all along? Did he keep you in a cage, Jill?"
"It's Wesker, Chris. There was class in everything he did. Don't you remember?" She smiled indulgently at Chris. "No, Chris, he never shackled me or kept me in a cell." She turned away. "The conversation is over, Chris. You can go."
He didn't know what else to say to her. He didn't understand her, but he felt that if he stayed with her a little longer, his shaken world would simply collapse, fall apart into small pieces, and he didn't want that.
"I just have one last question, Jill?"
"Mmm?"
"Why did you help us?"
Jill hemed, the corner of her mouth was twitched slightly.
"He gave me an increased dose, even though I asked him not to, you remember. Obviously, the effect of the drug lasted much longer than I would have liked. I had an order to kill, Chris, but I didn't have an order to kill you.
She was still standing with her back to him, her voice sounded muffled.
Chris felt dizzy. He was aware that she knew much more than she was saying. He still had so much to found out, but if this happens, he will simply lose his mind, from reflections, regrets and his own powerlessness. Chris wasn't ready for this.
He ran to the door and it beeped, allowing Chris to get out. As he did, he slammed the door and pressed his back against it, ignoring his own heart, ready to jump out of his chest. Chris Redfield had experienced many nightmares, but now he had to face the worst of them, woven from his own hasty decisions, conclusions and actions, and he knew that it would destroy him day after day, even if he managed to see only a small part of the picture that Jill saw. For the first time, he capitulated. Choking back tears, Chris Redfield ran to the exit from his nightmare.