Chapter VI: I Look For Love, I Find A Stone
Alexia left the next day. She couldn't bear to be there a moment longer than necessary. Every notion of pain and hurt welled up inside her and flowed through her veins as if all her blood had transformed into fire. All she had to show for her night of waiting was a nasty cold. She would have stayed out there forever if her father had not found her. He had been in quite the frenzy when he arrived outside, cooing with worry over his daughter. His superficial concern over her just seemed to add insult to injury, he didn't even bother to ask about her crestfallen state. He was simply worried that he'd lost his trophy daughter. Arrogant fool.
The trip back to the Antarctic was spent reliving the awful memories of the previous day. They seemed to be stuck on repeat and no matter how she tried to lead her melancholy thoughts away from yesterday, they would inevitably turn back to those painful remembrances. She stayed completely silent, ignoring her father whenever he chose to speak to her. All she could do was drown in her own recollections and those evil words that taunted and plagued her mercilessly. She tried to sleep and escape the words resounding in her cluttered mind but to no avail. She could not dream to evade her omnipresent thoughts. Maybe it's for the better, she thought, Lord knows my dreams never provide any sort of sanctuary from reality.
As she took her first step onto the ground of her facility, she couldn't tell whether or not she was happy to return to that strained normalcy. She paid no attention to anyone as she stormed sulkily towards her office on the lower levels of the facility. Bury yourself in your work. She instructed herself stonily. Forget about all of this, if only for a little while. She exited from the elevator and made her way down the walkway to her left before opening the door to her private study, complete with her own little lab.
She rummaged through the drawers in her desk to find a set of matches. Once she obtained them, she lit the alcohol lamp she had situated in the room. She blew out the fire lighting the tip of the match as she stared blindly into the flame within the lamp. With all the other advanced technology present in the room it would seem silly to most to have that form of illumination, but Alexia couldn't stand the usual fluorescent lights that found themselves lighting a lab. She much preferred the primitive lighting casting its gentle and warm glow on her work, creating shadows that leered around the room and becoming her own comforting company. Yet, unbeknownst to the girl, it was that very style of lighting that highlighted her own loneliness. At that moment, she couldn't help but feel that that sort of illumination was very fitting with her state of mind.
All she could do for a while was simply stand there, suddenly becoming only vaguely aware of her own thoughts as she stared at the little blaze in the ornately decorated lantern. Eventually, she convinced herself to start moving again but all she could do was pace back and forth slowly across the elegant carpet on the floor. She stopped her steps for a moment and instead focused her vision on the painting of Veronica Ashford she had located in the room. This is absolutely ridiculous. I came in here to work and now that I am here, I cannot bring myself to look at my own research. Alexia thought to herself in all the annoyance she could conjure up from her body. So then, what should I do? She wasn't sure if she was asking herself, the long-dead matriarch, or the universe in general. She didn't care who answered for an answer was all she wanted.
The room continued to envelope her in silence but soon her own mind gave a potential method of letting her thoughts stop haunting her. I remember once reading somewhere that if one were to write their feelings down on paper, it would help that person release those emotions and thus cleanse them of those bothersome sentiments. So decided that she might as well attempt such a thing as she did not have any other possibilities open to her at that moment.
The girl returned to her desk and searched for a clean piece of paper and her favourite black pen. She cleared the slight clutter on her desk (she was momentarily appalled that she had left her workspace in such a state) and allowed enough room upon the surface to write. Sitting down on the chair, she looked down at the blank paper and wondered what she should write. The young scientist wasn't exactly sure how she should express herself. She knew no one else would ever read this letter, yet at the same time she wanted the world to know how she felt.
She set the pen to the paper and tried many times to immortalize in ink her emotions, but she couldn't. Bringing those plethora of emotions to the forefront of her mind did nothing to cheer her up in the slightest. All it amounted to were scribbles across the top of the page, smeared together by a small torrent of teardrops. Write something. Just write. Even if it doesn't make any sense at all. Just write.
Then the pen seemed to take on a life of its own. It wasn't a particularly lengthy letter but it most certainly got the point across as to what she felt. She read over what she had written so far and felt a stony clutch at her heart as she felt the truth of the words seep into her mind. More hurt; more pain. And then she found herself only able to write the same three word phase over and over again in nearly infuriating repetition. The analytical part of her personality felt like it was being mocked by those simple words, laughing at her over and over again as if the whole situation was some kind of joke, some sort of challenge to her usual level-headedness. She had to force herself to stop writing that phrase and continue writing whatever words her mind had left to spill, which she quickly found out wasn't much more.
A girlish fancy overtook her momentarily, stupidly. She regretted writing it the moment it appeared on the page in full, staring back at her in her perfect scrawl. Feeling terribly foolish for giving into that impromptu impulse, she covered the loathsome ink with more ink in haphazard scribbles. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Absolutely stupid. There really is no other way to perfectly describe my behaviour. Once she covered up her mistake, she signed her name as it ought to be and underlining it as if to prove a point to herself, that her name would forever be Alexia Ashford.
She read the letter over once again, to make sure she hadn't missed a single word she wished to share with the sheet. Everything was perfect, like her logic had for once taken hold of her emotions as opposed to the other way around. Alexia stood from her seat and walked over to the flame. She wanted to destroy the words now, along with those emotions running havoc within her petite frame. But as she stared at the letter she couldn't bring herself to eradicate it from existence. As much as she hated her tumultuous feelings, they were now apart of her. She felt that if she were to burn the paper into embers, that her affection would burn with it, rendering her little more than a robot.
She backed away slowly from the small fire, until she felt her back collide with the bookcase next to her desk. It startled her out of her thoughts and she immediately turned around, pulling out a random book and stuffing the letter between the many pages before placing the book back in its place. She felt so ashamed at her own weakness that was showing too clearly right then, she was suddenly so very aware towards her own emotional vulnerability. But she still refused to let go of it. To be weak was human and it seemed that, in the end, she was little more than a little human girl.
With a heavy sigh, she dragged her feet across the floor and into her personal lab. She didn't bother to turn on the lights, not wanting to make her tired eyes adjust to the harsh lighting. She stopped in front of a small anthill contained behind a cylindrical wall of glass. In the semi-darkness she could still see all the little workers milling around on and about their home. Somewhere within that mound of earth dwelled the ant which excited Alexia's interest the most, the queen ant. It was a horrible title for that particular insect. The queen didn't have any real authority over the colony but simply provided them with more workers. The only thing that interested the child scientist was that special gene within the queen's body. But the girl did secretly wish that the tiny monarch had some other purpose, some true form of superiority.
If I were a queen ant, I certainly wouldn't lounge about simply producing offspring. I would make sure all my peons knew that I was the reason they were there at all. Isn't a queen supposed to be exalted and worshipped? She continued to think on in this train of thought for some time, pressing her forehead and dainty, thin fingers against the cool glass. Somehow her thoughts led her to dreams she had only started to remember and think about when she had been standing beneath that stormy sky outside the hotel. Dreams of fairytale-like lands…
Why can't life be like that? Why can't my life be like that? Surely I deserve my happy ending as well, where I would be queen and William would be-- But suddenly all she could hear resounding in her fragile mind was, "…Useless, incompetent kid… spoiled little monster… nothing but the name of her family to support ridiculously short studies and inconsistent results… I hate you…" A painful gasp escaped her lips as if the words had dealt her physical damage, fresh tears prickling her eyes. No matter how many times she heard those words, they still pained her. She pushed herself away from the glass as she tried to regain her composure again.
"Maybe…" Alexia began aloud in a quiet whisper. She wasn't sure why she was talking to herself, she hadn't previously shown this sort of behaviour, but it definitely felt comforting to hear her own voice cutting through the loneliness that surrounded her. "Maybe if I show him that I'm not just some brainless child with an impressive social status perhaps he wouldn't loath me so terribly. If I quickly complete the T-Veronica project…" She wasn't sure if she could completely believe even her own words, but it would be enough of a lie to distract her from her own emotions. If she could just pour every ounce of her time and brainpower into the virus then maybe, just maybe that would be enough to keep her from thinking of her own pain and, in turn, bring closer the completion of her creation.
Just wait, William. I'll prove to you that you cannot hate me and that we can live happily ever after.
Sorry, for the long wait and the short chapter everyone. I really don't have much to say about this chapter (for once). However, the next chapter will finally bring in actual plot from the RE universe.