~ 4 ~ Back from the dead

"I see you have quite some stormy affairs!" Claire shouts to me from downstairs and for one brief moment I have to fight the unrealistic fear that she might have read my thoughts. That probably won't be it, but I still don't know how much time has passed since I went up the stairs and got lost in my thoughts again, so I hurry to put something on.

"What do you mean?" I answer innocently to not raise suspicion.

"I'm just reading your horoscope," Claire says. "There's quite some interesting stuff, would you like to hear it?"

"No thanks. I don't believe in nonsense like that."

I get ready as fast as possible in front of the mirror and look at what has become of me. The auburn hair and the blue eyes still look exactly like in the past, I've only become older, my body broader, and the three-day-beard a habit.

On the chair in front of my desk there's still my old green S.T.A.R.S. vest. Since I've started with the strength training and building up my muscles, it has become too small for me, and by now it's also haunted by many more negative memories than any other object in this room – apart from the specs case on the desk, perhaps. The last time I wore it was on Rockfort Island. That was roughly half a year after the incident in the Arklay Mountains.

The truth was eventually revealed, even though only Jill, I, and the few other survivors of the incident were willing to believe it. As to Wesker, however, only I knew the whole truth concerning his plans and my involvement in these. If I had reacted differently, I could have become Wesker's partner. But judging by how I reacted, I only became his "partner" for those few, quickly passed, yet unforgettable minutes in the least romantic place I could have imagined for it: on the cold floor of a lab that was used by scientists to carry out experiments, under the eyes of the "tyrant" in its giant specimen jar, next to the unconscious Rebecca who was still not moving.

He teased me until I couldn't help anymore but take him, fast, rough and without any aids that could have made it more comfortable for him, while I entered him and pushed my manhood deeper into him with every thrust. He still couldn't get enough of it, and only when we were through all positions I knew by that time, and I was lying on the floor breathing heavily, even more exhausted than before, he seemed to be satisfied. Not looking tired at all, he calmly put his clothes back on, his sunglasses as well, and said: "Chris, I have something to show you." As if nothing had happened between the two of us. As always after we had gotten close.

What he wanted to show me was the "tyrant", a big humanoid creature behind thick glass which was supposed to be the ultimate biological weapon at that time. But the glass wasn't thick enough. The tyrant came to life, broke the walls of his prison with his huge claws and, with the same move, impaled Wesker who didn't have a chance of running away in time. Or so I assumed. Wesker was declared dead, but no one wanted to listen to the truth about him, just like no one wanted to hear the truth about Umbrella. Jill, Barry, Rebecca and I were soon made outlaws, they called us liars and conspiracy theorists, the news papers reported and the citizens of Raccoon City pointed their fingers at us. But what else was there to expect from a town that was more or less controlled by Umbrella.

While Barry, who had been given a raw deal by Wesker in the Arklay Mountains, only wanted to lead a peaceful life with his wife and two girls, Rebecca left the town and Jill no longer knew what else to do, I was unable and unwilling to accept that. I stubbornly kept on investigating, looking for further clues, digging in the dirt until I found some. There was an Umbrella facility in Paris, their headquarters so to speak, and that became my next goal. My sister was a nineteen-year-old university student back then, so I didn't tell her anything about my plans to not worry her. And that was one of my bigger mistakes.

Claire felt uneasy for not hearing from me for a long time and came to Raccoon City only a few weeks after my departure. The town had turned into a living hell by then. No one had wanted to believe me and the others, so Umbrella continued to conduct their shady experiments until something went wrong once again, and this time not only a few unlucky individuals inside or near the Spencer Estate got infected by the viruses, but almost the entire population of Raccoon City.

I should have called and lied to Claire, but I preferred to leave her in the dark about my plans, causing my worst, but seemingly unfounded fear to become reality: My little sister got into mortal danger. With the assistance of Leon Kennedy, a rookie police officer who should have taken up his post at the RPD that day, she managed to escape the horror and even save someone: Sherry Birkin, the twelve-year-old daughter of the two scientists who had created a new threat called G-virus.

But Claire continued to look for me and eventually followed me to Europe, where she was caught during an attack on Umbrella's headquarters in Paris and brought to Rockfort Island. A terrible island you usually don't escape from. Leon somehow found out about it and informed me so I could set out to look for Claire at once.

However, what I found was something else, or rather someone else. He ambushed me in a laboratory that didn't differ from the one in the Arklay Mountains in terms of looks and purpose, and I, being convinced that I had already experienced the most unbelievable occurrences and biggest surprises, stood there with my mouth wide open when all of a sudden Wesker was there in front of me, alive like before his alleged death at the hands of the tyrant. Perhaps even a bit more alive than before. His "death", I learned, had been just another part of the great plan in order to have the tyrant's claws infect him with a virus, turning him into what he was that day: A person with orange glowing eyes and superpowers. He still looked exactly like he had a few months earlier, he was even wearing the same clothes. It was like a déjà vu in that respect, and yet something was different: He was much faster and stronger than before, which he made me feel soon enough.

He still couldn't read minds, though, and since he didn't know about Claire, he assumed I had come just to foil his plans, whatever they were. At first he was standing quite some meters away from me, but just the blink of an eye later he was right in front of me, grabbed me by the neck, lifted me up and pressed me against the wall which he reached so quickly it would have looked like teleportation to a bystander. I tried to fight him, to free myself from his grip, but he was just too strong.

"You arrogant little wannabe superhero! You think you can always be there to save the world, don't you?" he scoffed. "But now you're at my mercy. I can do with you whatever I want. Not much has changed since our time with the S.T.A.R.S., right? No matter what you think of yourself, you're still my subordinate, following my orders."

Now I was the one to scoff. Wesker's hand suffocated my voice, but I still managed to say: "You might have lost your humanity, but not your humor, it seems. When I think about how you had me I fill your every hole a few months ago... and you couldn't even get enough! So, who is whose subordinate here?"

I laughed out loud. Under normal circumstances I wouldn't have brought that up in a situation like this, but I just couldn't help it. Only the pain in my stomach when Wesker thrust his elbow into it silenced me again.

"Better watch your tongue before I rip it out!" With these words he violently threw me to the ground, but not violently enough for me to pass out. I wanted to use the opportunity to get back on my feet and recover my pistol which had been knocked out of my hand by Wesker's unexpectedly quick attack, but I didn't even get on my knees when he was already by my side, lifting me up by the T-shirt under my vest, only to throw me back to the floor again, this time near the wall.

"Is that all you can do?" I asked with the most cheerful tone I could manage, given the pain I was already suffering.

Wesker appeared behind me, lifted me up by a piece of my clothing once again, pushed me towards an empty desk and said with a cold, calm voice: "I will kill you, Chris. You can only be on my side or against me, there's no other option, and since you didn't want to become my partner, I must assume, unfortunately, that you will continue to get on my nerves for the rest of my life. Or, more precisely, of your life. But before that, I will show you who's the boss among us."

The next thing I remember is pain. Wesker thrust me against the desk, forcing me to bend over, pulled down my pants and penetrated me so hard I thought my backside would be torn apart. The last time we'd met he had assume the passive role, but his new powers seemed to have changed his preferences as well.

That's one of the many things that have changed over time. Back then it still hurt. When Wesker was done with me, he kicked my legs aside, throwing me to the ground. I felt a warm liquid run down my thigh, not knowing if it was my blood or his sperm. When I looked up to him, he was just buttoning up his pants.

"And once again you're at my feet. Good boy."

But he didn't get round to killing me. He had wasted too much time raping me and now he had to move on to do whatever he had come to that island to do, while I got dressed in a hurry to continue my search for Claire. Walking now caused me some problems.

I didn't believe him, though, that he wanted to kill me. Maybe his claim to be out of time was just an excuse. But I was out of time myself, I couldn't waste it thinking about whether I was just deluded or not. I had to find Claire. She was more important than any kind of feeling I could or could not have for Wesker.

This meeting with Wesker remained the last one for a very long time. I didn't hear anything from him for years. But my life changed. My wish to protect the world from bioterrorism became an obsession in the course of time. For this reason Jill and I, along with nine other experienced fighters for the same cause, founded a new organization: the BSAA, short for Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance, where I still work today. Or at least so it should be...