Belief

Rebecca touched his arm. And his eyes slid to her face.

"Let's find what we need to end them. Let's find it. It's all we can do."

He nodded and moved down the stairs.

Jill and Rebecca followed, quietly and discreetly. They reached the bottom of the stairwell and Chris was already down the hallway before them. This was clearly the lab they'd heard so much about it. It was industrial and had doors of steal with keycard access needed to get in. The walls were metal and made one feel like they'd stepped into a tin can.

There was a medicinal smell that alerted the nose to the horrors of formaldehyde and preservation of flesh. Lab coats were strung on one wall as they moved. The first door to the left was slightly ajar.

Jill eased it open and moved in to clear the room.

Rebecca followed behind Chris a little and tried to slow him down as he moved.

Jill was watching a slide show in the tiny room where she had arrived. It was playing on the wall like someone had set up a show for her. The room was a media conference room of some kind. It was filled with slides and video tapes and papers. The long table where she stood was throwing images on the wall.

The first was the mansion. It was clearly the early days of construction. The second showed eager scientists waving and flashing grins as they were caught by the person taking snap shots. The third was a pale faced man with blonde hair looking harried and distraught. The fourth showed a family with grins and arms around each other. The raggedy clothes of the pre-teen girl between the smiling parents were the same as the monster in chains. One final slide popped up and showed the whole crew of scientists standing together for a group shot. They were all waving and doing bunny ears and looking silly and happy.

Jill started to turn away from the slid show and something caught her eye.

She rolled her eyes to the bottom right of the photo. The harried pale faced blonde man was there. He looked less upset though. He was grinning and his arm was around -

Jill spun back from the slide show, her heart rapidly pounding in her chest. Surely not. Surely she was wrong.

But a voice said, "I'm so sorry."

And she gasped as Barry Burton brought the butt of his pistol down on her temple.

Down the hallway, Rebecca grabbed Chris' arm to bring him to a halt. He turned to give her angry eyes. "Stop…wait for Jill."

And Chris said, with a laugh, "Fuck Jill. She can wait for Wesker."

He opened the door beside them and moved inside with his pistol aimed.

The room was empty save for a device console to one side…and a huge tank in the middle. It was enormous and the thing inside the goop it contained was the same. It was man, or pretended to be one. It was sexless like a Ken doll and sported a pulsing heart on its massive chest. It was ten feet tall and had arm with one clawed and as long as a human leg on its massive fist. It's face was nearly human and smooth save for the veins that bulged and pulsed on its slick forehead. The face had split to expose muscle and bone beneath the torn tissue. Bulbous masses covered its back and shoulders on flesh turning gray with necrosis and infection.

Rebecca made a sound of horror. Chris moved toward the tank and Wesker walked around from behind it.

Chris paused. Rebecca froze.

Wesker studied him from across the short distance. And he spoke now, quietly, "When did you figure out it was me?"

Rebecca jumped in surprise.

Chris answered him, voice cool and collected, "Rebecca found files. One of the names was Albert. Not a lot to go on, I'll admit. But then you disappeared. Barry started acting nervous and frightened. And you show up again, just in time to lay your hands on Jill – a woman you once referred to as willing to fuck her way to promotion- to get her to turn a cheek to where the fuck you've been all night. The fact that you're MIA for most of what's happening here. None of that is like you. You show up, toss out orders, and you skitter off again. It stinks like a weeks worth of unwashed ball sack. I knew you were dirty. I knew it. You lay the trail to Barry, clever, but pointless. I know he's working with you…I just can't figure out why."

Wesker studied him in the quiet room. He shifted where he stood and turned toward the tyrant tank. He caressed it, almost lovingly.

"I said I had his family. He'll do anything I say to protect him. That's the thing about humans – so many ways to manipulate them. Naturally, I lied. But he doesn't know that. Feelings will always get you killed, Chris. I kept trying to teach you that. Jill? She was starting to learn it. She'll keep on learning it. It's why I kissed her...it's why I kept her."

Chris paused and lowered the gun he'd started to raise on his own traitorous Captain.

"What did you say?"

Wesker eyed him. "I have her. Surely you know that. I took her. I'd always planned to take her, of course. If she didn't come to me on her own. But you were sniffing too close. You were too smart. I saw it when you put together the witches and when you pieced together the book of shadows. I knew…you had the brains I wanted. But that heart of yours…." Wesker caressed the tank again and moved to the console.

Chris watched him, breathing.

"Your heart will get you killed, Chris. It's your weakness. As the girl you chase is your weakness. She's stronger than you. And will always be stronger. She doesn't bleed and die. She bleeds and rises. You will let the pain take you down and destroy you. If I take her from you, here and now, will you ascend? Will you rise? I wonder." He turned back to them, "I wish I had time to discover how far you will go for her. But…the science demands I finish what I started here."

A sharp moment froze around them. Chris raised his gun but he was a fraction of a second too slow. Wesker fired from the hip and blasted Rebecca off her feet. She was thrown backward, sliding over the floor, smashing into the wall…and was still.

Chris' gun went off a second later and hit Wesker in the chest. The vest took the hit of it. It threw him backward against the console. But he kept his gun on Chris while it happened. The pain was immediate but it wouldn't kill him.

Rebecca? She was still on the ground. Still…still.

Chris hissed at him, "You son of a bitch! Drop the gun and let's end this."

Wesker eyed him. The sunglasses had been knocked askew by the bullet he'd taken. He slid this off his face now and set them on the console. He watched the other man like a predator. The flash of excitement on his face was enthralling in a way.

"You want to challenge me? Mano-a-mano? A dual? You aren't ready. You aren't even CLOSE to ready. You can't possibly know what I can do." Wesker studied the tank beside him. "Do you know the tyrant in this tank is one of kind? He had a less brilliant brother of course…but that one…was unfinished and raw. Only one in ten million hosts exposed to the T-Virus possesses the potential to mutate into a Tyrant. This is a unique characteristic carried over from the Progenitor virus's own genetic compatibility to certain subjects. Research shows something like ten percent of the total population will retain natural immunity to the T-Virus, even if directly exposed."

Wesker looked at the tyrant lovingly. "This one is perfect. He has a heart on his chest on the right side there. It's not Dextrocardia though…it's grafted to him. He needs it…to thrive. The parameters of his creation require the additional heart to pump blood and increase his abilities. Some creations require care to ascend, Chris. Some need to be coddled, others coaxed, still others pushed."

He eyed Chris again with those pale, pale eyes. "I wanted you to be my tyrant. You had the makings of greatness. You were exemplary. You were top of your class, dedicated, skilled…the best I've ever seen with a gun. Ever. What would you do with the virus in your blood? You would be limitless. But your human heart can't sustain you…it's weak. It beats for a girl that will never love you. A girl that will never be what you need. She's broken. She's flawed. She needs to ascend. I will graft another heart to her to give her the power to ascend. You? You have reached the end of your abilities, I'm afraid….or have you? It's time to find out."

Wesker held the gun on him. Chris watched him move to the console.

Chris glanced at the tank and back at his face. "Don't, Wesker. Don't. Give me Jill and turn yourself in. Now. This ends one of two ways: With you in chains or you in a body bag…your choice."

Wesker paused, watching him. "In chains you say? Like Lisa? The first human to show signs of tyrant mutation in human form. A brilliant thing really. She's mentally inferior, of course, which is the flaw in the tyrant program. They are…for lack of a subtle word…dumb. They can't do anything but take commands. And in the absence of that…they kill. Stripping away their power limiter could potentially make them berserk. The mess would be…unparalleled."

And apparently the idea of that mess enthralled him. Disgusted, Chris clicked the hammer on his gone.

"You so much as fart toward that console, I will give you a third eye as ugly as your megalomania."

Wesker laughed, softy. "Chris – you are a conquered people. Haven't you figured it out yet? I've gotten all I need from you. All that's left now is for you to show me what my tyrant can do."

Wesker hit the button on the console. Chris gun clicked empty as he fired. And the tank drained, spilling goo and liquid into the bottom. The tyrant opened its eyes. The glass cracked as it shifted.

Wesker grinned wolfishly at him. "I would have made you great Chris. Remember, you chose mediocrity…you chose love. And look where it's gotten you."

The tank exploded in a burst of glass and rain of sharp, glittering pieces. Chris threw his arm up to block his face but still felt them cut and sting where they struck. The tyrant leaped free, graceful and fast. Wesker looked at it with love…like a child with a puppy.

And he said, "Kill him."

The tyrant turned toward him. It studied him. Wesker smiled at it.

And the tyrant fed his betrayal back to him. It gored him on that massive claw while he gasped, gasped, and blood burst from his ruptured chest in a hot, steaming, red mess. It lifted him to eye level, bleeding and opening and closing his mouth like a landed fish, and roared in his face.

His creation had betrayed him.

It was the ultimate poetic justice. It was Frankenstein's monster. It was The Island of Doctor Moreau. It was the only way karma completed its circle. The tyrant flicked its claws and sent him to the floor to slide away in his own blood.

It turned back to Chris but he was gone.

And he'd taken Rebecca with him.

He raced into the hallway and the sound of something sharp and close split the air. It was loud and mechanical. It was all around them.

THE SELF DESTRUCT SEQUENCE HAS BEEN ACTIVATED. PLEASE EVACUATE ALL PERSONEL IMMEDIATELY. TOTAL DETONATION WILL OCCUR IN T-MINUS TEN MINUTES.

Horrified, Chris juggled Rebecca in his arms. She was alive, unconscious, but breathing. The vest had taken the hit. He needed to find Jill. He needed to get them out.

He didn't have any time to do either.

Panicked, terrified, Chris ran down the hallway. The door to the lab burst open and the tyrant ducked out, roaring. He kept on running. Rebecca was tucked against his chest and dead weight. She was small but he couldn't run forever holding her.

And he needed, needed, needed to find Jill. He shouted it now as he ran, "JILL!"

As if she'd hear him. As if she'd come running. He'd mentally punished her for standing in the circle of that traitor's arms. How could she be so blind to what he was? How could she let him touch her? How could she stand there and believe any of the lies he heaped on her? How much of "his" was she?

Chris roared it now, desperate to find her her, "JILLLL!"

She heard him. As Barry helped her up and opened the cage door where Wesker kept her. As they held eyes and she forgave him, just like that, for what he had done...because she knew now that Wesker must have been using him all along. As they heard the first loll of the self destruct sequence fire off...she HEARD him shouting for her.

And it healed something in her to hear it. They turned together and raced toward his voice.

The hallway dead ended to a stairwell. Chris raced toward it. He could hear the tyrant coming, so fast, so terribly fast. He was only human. He would NEVER out run it. Not carrying dead weight in his arms. There was no hope.

There was no Jill.

And there was no more time to find her.

He was almost to the stairs, almost there...and Jill and Barry burst out of a room beside him.

Chris nearly dropped Rebecca. He nearly threw up in relief. Her face was so thrilled to see him. What did his say? He wondered it as they wasted no time with hellos or pleasantries. They would be dead while they stood there making googoo eyes at each other.

Barry shouted, "COME ON! HURRY!"

They followed. They had no other choice but to follow.

They ran up the stairs, listening to the pound of the tyrant, to the roar of it, to the blare of the timer telling them how long it would be until they were dead. Dead.

DEAD.

At the top of the stairs, they burst through a door onto a rooftop. Barry ran to the far side and looked down. It was too far to jump. It was too far to even try.

Jill checked her pistol to find it had three bullets left.

Chris was breathing harsh and low. Rebecca had awoken now and he set her to her feet on the roof. He rasped out, hoarse and breathless, "It's Wesker. It's Wesker."

Jill nodded, "I know. I woke up in a cell. Barry put me there. I knew it was Wesker. I found a slide show with him on it. I didn't know. I can't believe it. All these people...why?"

Barry said, gently, "He has my family."

Chris met his eyes, "He doesn't. He lied. And he's dead. The tyrant gutted him. The fucking bastard. He was insane."

Rebecca whispered, "I met one like that. I met it. It's fast. It's mean. And it's deadly."

Chris grabbed her arm to shake her out of her fear. "How do we kill it, Rebecca?"

She answered, quietly, "Shoot that fucking heart on its chest."

Chris nodded and turned back. They lifted their guns. They heard the sound of the self destruct sequence informing them they had eight minutes left to live. And they heard the sound of a helicopter.

Jill looked at Chris with wide eyes. She grabbed his hand without thinking. He flipped it over and linked their fingers. And they both whispered, "Brad?"

The communicator hissed, "Guys? Is that you? I'm coming down to get you ok? I'm coming down there. I'm sorry! I FREAKED! I'm coming now."

The helicopter circled low. It was nearly to them.

And the door to the roof burst open.

The tyrant leaped onto the roof and shook it beneath them. They all stumbled. The helicopter lifted up quickly in a swirling circle. Brad's voice came back to them, "I can't touch down with that thing there! Get rid of it!"

Naturally.

Coward.

The self destruct sequence informed them they only had seven minutes left. Seven minutes until the worst night of their lives became a pyric memory. Chris lifted his pistol at it.

"Seven minutes," He called to it over the roar of the helicopter blades and the rush of wind. The sun had started to rise in the eastern sky, pink and perfect. The most brilliant spectator to their final stand, "….seven minutes is all I have to play with you."

And the tyrant threw back its head…and trumpeted its battle cry to the swirling dawn.