The plants crashed down upon the two Weskers, and earth exploded in every direction, torrent of brown and red and green for a thrasher's paradise. The two scientists vanished within the devastation of barrage… but Lasetta did not relent. A terrible rage had overcome her. A pure, venomous ungodliness. Her eyes were glowing more intensely than before, her body shaking, her poisonous cloud no longer opaque and green but thick and dark, almost black. Her teeth gnashed in terror and were almost fang-like in the shadow that overtook her.
"I remember!" she cried out, and Pamela, on her knees, wide-eyed and beholding, saw that Lasetta's veins had turned black and thick. "I REMEMBER! I REMEMBER!" The last two words suddenly trembled all around the room. Pamela shook…excitedly. That voice did not just come from the woman's mouth: it came from the gigantic thrashing vines, the tranquil flowers, the disturbed ivy, the writhing fly-traps and shaking trees. That voice was carried on the wind itself within the room. It was everywhere. She spoke from mouth and plant alike. "I REMEMBER," that amplified voice said, "EVERYTHING. YOU STOLE EVERYTHING! YOU TOOK FROM ME ALL THE THINGS THAT MATTERED!"
Within the fierce chaos of plants, Anassa Wesker was twisting her body fiercely, flames exploding out of her palms and setting to the attacking flora that entwined her and Albert. The plants were shrieking, the flames blurring, a desperate battle commencing between superhuman and superflora, deadly in the clash as the two Weskers fought with all of their strength to fight the engaging, green death. Lasetta's deadly cloud was descending down upon them now, soon to reap them of life in full. Anassa…had betrayed Lasetta! Lasetta saw that now…she felt that now…
Oh God, no! No! NO! She realized the no almost as soon as she thought of such a concept. Anassa had not betrayed her: Anassa had never been her friend to begin with. She had always, always, been an experiment to Anassa, and Anassa had exploited her crippled, wounded mind and fragile mental state.
NO MORE.
"NO MORE!" Lasetta screamed, rising with Pamela above the room in her flying vines and looking down upon the people who had turned her into a project. Albert Wesker was flying over the greenery, punching and slicing his way through the thick green with a deadly combat knife, intent on reaching Anassa, who was throwing handfuls of fire in every direction. For one second, his horrorstruck, red eyes flashed in her direction, his favorite sunglasses lost in the grand foliage that was trying to kill him… and then those demon eyes found the descending gas.
Adrenaline overtook the man, and he began to blast his way through the green with bulldozing intent alone, his body mass striking forward with deadly efficiency and cutting tightly through the bulk of death. He grabbed Anassa, who was gazing up at Anassa with a mixed expression fear, anger and desperation.
Just as the gas descended, the two of them were moving away, speeding in a great blur for the elevator doors. Pamela, calling out to the plants that Lasetta manipulated, felt a deep connection grow within her, her chlorokinetic power commanding and receiving. The massive vines snaked their way after the two retreating Weskers and slammed into the elevator at Pamela's mental command, decimating the thing and rendering it useless.
Wesker, however, leapt high into the air, landing cat-like upon the flaying vines and running up their green length, Anassa barely conscious in his arms. One of those thick vines had struck her in the head, Pamela saw, and the woman was bleeding fire. Albert Wesker leapt from flailing vine to flailing vine each time they descended with their great speed and bulk to smash he and Anassa, and when he had put on a great spurt of speed, he propelled himself into the highest point of the greenhouse. That adrenaline worked wonders with his already superior body, and the two Weskers smashed through the topside of the greenhouse, raining glass down in every direction as they landed upon the walkway, Anassa now completely out in her lover's arms.
Wesker did not look back as he ran for the stairway. Within him, an unholy rage was burning. He had failed. He had failed and it would cost so many so much… Bringing Pamela Isley here had been his greatest failure. She had sabotaged everything.
Lasetta watched the two Weskers vanished through the door to the stairway, and her shaking fist shook so violently. Her plants were screaming. She was screaming. Even Pamela cowered within her dark, terrible shadow, overwhelmed with a fine hybrid of worship and fear. Lasetta would not let them escape! She could not let them escape! They had to die! They had to pay for what they had done to her! And they would pay dearly!
"It's time to ascend!" she hissed terribly, stretching out an arm and giving her own powerful, mental command. "IT'S TIME TO ASCEND!"
Pamela Isley nearly fainted. The plants, the entire existence of the greenhouse, was ascending so beautifully, the earth itself alive and filled to the brim. The massive tendrils smashed through the remaining glass of the greenhouse, raining shards down upon them both that would have ripped them to shreds, but Lasetta commanded more and more of those thick vines to cover them as they rose, rose, rose to the Heavens above. Through the destroyed greenhouse, Lasetta breathed in the air that she had longed for. The air outside of the containment that she had for so long been cooped away inside of. Her poisonous smog had utterly filled the massive chamber now, and was travelling through the air ducts, massing in heavy, deadly quantities. The researchers down below would not stand a chance. Even as they rose, her flora was out of control, overtaking the entire building, breaking through walls, ventilation shafts and rafters. Nature had begun its conquest.
Over a year earlier…
"My offer is simple," Woodrue said as he sipped the black tea calmly and politely. On either side of him, Pamela and Alissa were stirring feebly, but still far from awakening. "I'll take funding for the final preparations in Oregon, and in exchange, I provide you with a sample kit of the Leviathan. In addition, payments will be returned within the month with a 15% percent interest rate per week."
The Joker, swinging backwards and forwards on the tire swing that hug from the ceiling, a noose tied neatly around his neck as he swung dangerously, listened with great interest. "Go on, babe."
Woodrue frowned. "In addition, I shall supply you with thirty perfected specimens from the Floric transmutation drone project."
"In English, love!" the Joker cried, spinning and spinning around, tightening the noose around his neck to a terribly constrictive hold. Patches of blood red appeared through his white skin. "Peualezz…"
Woodrue was up in an instant, his knife flashing in hand. The rope was severed at once, both noose and swing, and the Joker went tumbling into a mess upon the wood. He hit the mahogany hard and stared up, dumbfounded, at Woodrue, who placed a foot upon the Joker's chest and continued in his pleasant voice, still sipping his tea, "In English, then? Very well: Floric. Trans. Mutation. Drone. Project." He tipped the mug over and spilled the remainder of the tea onto the Joker's face. He then ventured back to the couch, leaving the clown lying there, shaking with absolute, terrible, monstrous fury.
The Joker was on his feet at once, soaked from the tea and furiously fuming. Woodrue retook his seat and smiled pleasantly at the clown. "May we continue?" he asked quietly.
The Joker reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver .44. It was placed against Woodrue's temple in an instant.
"News flash!" the Joker snapped. "I'M the one playing host, and I'M the one holding the gun now. Do you want to apologize, Mr. Woodrue!?"
Woodrue smiled. "Sure, why not. I'm quite sorry, Joker, that you're so…pathetic." He gestured at one of the windows. "Out there, a mound of dead at my hand. Ask me, Joker, how far I'm willing to go and what I am capable of."
The Joker had had enough of this man and his stupid tricks. The magnum fired off at once, and Woodrue's head exploded… revealing the mass of intense green underneath. The jade, organic material splattered all over the room, covering Pamela and Alissa, who both jerked in their still powerful slumber. The Joker stared, wild-eyed and disbelieving.
"That's it?"
"Not quite." The voice came from behind Joker, who spun around at once… but the gun was already slipping out of his hand as the real Woodrue disarmed him, and turned the barrel of the weapon onto the clown. The Joker stared in disbelief at this sudden apparition of the man that he had just murdered… and then a grin of utter delight spread across his face. He exploded in a joyful praise, laughter of pleasure and satisfaction, and clapped Woodrue congratulatory upon the shoulder.
"WELL DONE!" he boomed.
Suddenly the door exploded and Harley, followed by several of the Joker's thugs, burst into the scene. Guns raised at once, knives flashed, but the Joker held up a hand, still beaming at the good doctor. "Now, now, ladies and gentlemen, that was only the first trick! For his second, he will, in good graces, kindly be our beneficiary!" He clapped his hands together and glanced over at his clowns. "Harley, dear, come in and join us. The rest of you skedaddle…except for Lumpy. Lumpy, go and fetch three of the cases from the Green Closet!"
Lumpy, a fat, ogre-like clown in dark green, groaned loudly and turned around, bumbling off into the darkness. Harley ran forward, quickly grabbing the Joker and looking wildly around at Woodrue, who offered the clown his gun back. The Joker took it with glee, and grinned all about the room. His clowns were still ogling… and so the Joker raised the gun.
BOOM! The clown at the front of the group received his death with quite an impact, and went flying away at once, blood splattering everywhere, and the other clowns took the sign to scatter. They retreated in intense haste, running for the cover of darkness that could perhaps keep them safe for another day. Not likely, though.
The Joker and Harley both looked down at the broken corpse of their beloved tire swing, and the clown prince sighed. "We need a new crib, homie…" he muttered in disgust, pocketing his gun. "The 411 isn't fizzle shizzle, what not and- and-…" He giggled. "Damn, can't even present proper speech etiquette." He turned to face Woodrue. "Mr. Woodrue… you won't make me regret this, will you?" His voice was suddenly very dark, very rough and very low. None of the mirth remained it.
Woodrue nodded. "Why not?"
The Joker shook his head. "I'm being…serious." Harley gasped.
Woodrue smirked. "Do you even remember what it's like to be serious, Mr. Joker? Do you even remember the mental and spiritual constructs that dictate the necessity of seriousness, somewhere deep down in that chaotic paradise you call a mind?"
The Joker gazed at the window. "Not really, I suppose." He chuckled softly. "I feel a laugh every time it's not needed, every time it is… But this that you've offered me: this is religious!" He beamed. "Very religious…structured, even…"
"And it will help you bring exquisite hell to the people of your playground," Woodrue finished for him, gesturing out to the city outside. "What more does a man need to know?"
"You're a rich man," the Joker contested. "Why come to me for money?"
"The money is nearly a bonus. What I'm really benefiting from you are the test subjects and influence. You have handier means of collection. The money will simply cover all traces of-"
BOOM! Woodrue stopped abruptly. In the distance, an explosion. No one in the room had any idea of where it had come from or why. It just did. He continued. "-of our activities when laundered to the right beneficiaries. I will come calling within a fortnight to-"
BOOM! Another explosion…this one louder and closer. Harley skipped merrily to the windows, and peeked out excitedly through the glass. "Whoever's out there is making all sorts of fun noises, Mistah J," she cooed. "Wanna go see?"
"Soon, dear, soon. Tonight's a night of celebration after all!" the Joker cried. From the doorway, Lumpy was returning. In his arms were three thick, silver cases. He laid them in front of Woodrue and opened them without a word. The bills within almost seemed to glow with ravenously green delight, a leprechaun's hold. Woodrue did not touch the money or give it more than second's glance, though, but his attention fell fully upon the Joker.
"Think about the future, Joker," he said. "Consider many things whilst pondering the delicacies of Gotham's degradation. I want you to envision, for a moment, all hell breaking so loose that it is beyond even your own control. Will you be able to handle it when the time comes?" He peered inquiringly at the clown, awaiting a response. The Joker considered his words carefully, doing a little tap dance as he did, and then turned back to face Woodrue.
"It's like peeing on an electric fence, I'd say," came the smooth, quiet reply. But those eyes beamed so brightly at the doctor. "Satisfying as hell in any form."
Woodrue nodded. "Good man," he whispered back. "I'll be in contact."
And ten minutes later, Jason Woodrue was on his way back to his home, the two women still stirring on the seat. He was tired, he had to admit, but not altogether bothered. Tonight had gone as well as he had hoped it would. With the Joker's support, there would come a time, in the future, when he would be able to use Gotham City as a testing ground for many marvelous things. He would see to it that, in the end, it was he, Jason Woodrue, who had the final laugh in the grand scheme of things.
Pampadora… I'll make you proud.
"I will definitely make you proud," Pamela whispered to Lasetta as they hovered in the air before the brilliant Gotham day. The sun beamed happily down upon them as the entirety of the observatory began to collapse under the pressure of the constricting, elephantine vines. About two hundred feet below, the two Weskers were making their way for the trucks, Anassa looking up at the two Florics intensely. "Come on… let's kill them, Lasetta."
Lasetta, her fingers curved into her own personal claw-like threats, nodded savagely. "It's for the best," she whispered, more to herself than Pamela, "because I remember…"
She remembered everything indeed. Her name was Lasetta Rilee. Her family had been rich and powerful. Her father had manned great hotels, had put a fortune into the entertainment and leisure industry, had provided she, her mother and cousins with homes around the world. She had played band in high school, the trumpet. During her freshmen year of college, not too long before Woodrue had taken her away, she had joined a choir with The Gothamation League. She had loved Olivero… and she had murdered Olivero…as she had murdered her family and her servants….all because Woodrue had warped her mind and forced her to do so. Woodrue, who had taken away her life, with his servants Anassa and Albert…
Lasetta and Pamela rushed through the air, propelled by the force of their great loves, the flora, and Lasetta's fury was absolute and deadly: as the gas from her body began to saturate the air, thorns exploded out of many green pods, raining down upon the trucks and the few soldiers assembled there. The two Weskers took cover behind the vehicle that had been used to transport Pamela, who landed lightly upon the concrete. She gazed about, a new sense of magnificence within her altered perspective on life. Alpha 32 and his friend were standing close by, guns raised, helmets removed. A cigarette fell limply from 32's mouth. Now Pamela could see that his hair was fair and his skin tan. His friend was older, but no less attractive with his dark bangs and shadowy eyes. But they needed green to their coloration.
Even as they took precise aim, Pamela manipulated the vines before her and sent them forward. They entwined the two soldiers at once, pulling them into the air as they screamed, their weapons falling from their hands out of shock.
THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! Again and again, the vines fiercely slapped and slapped at their heads, knocking their faces left and right, dazing them, bloodying them… Pamela flexed her body, feeling so powerful again, feeling so deadly. A lump formed within her, fiery and inviting. Uprising had come! She manipulated the plants and swung the two soldiers about, the vines her arms in this moment, an extension of her limbs!
Quickly, Pamela pulled them back towards her, the useless soldiers flying forward with deathly haste. 32 lowered roughly into her hands as she cupped his cheeks and gazed longingly into his eyes.
Her lips parted. "Remember when I told you that I'd murder you?" she whispered to him, her green mouth forming into a seductive smile. Lasetta watched on. 32 began to cry out, but he was immediately silenced, for the final time, as Pamela forced her murderous kiss onto him. He died quite horribly and quickly after she pulled away, breathing and speaking an impossibility. Even as his body hung limply and green, his swollen, jade-colored tongue hanging out of his mouth in a comical way, Pamela seized the other guard and killed him in the same fashion, her foot rising in the romance of it all.
She allowed the vines to drop their poisoned corpses at Lasetta's feet. Her deadly cloud overtook them at once, and vicious plants began to grow from their bodies. Pamela stretched out her arms, devious in her joy, laughing bitterly. "I did promise," she sighed.
Lasetta was intrigued… and startled. "That was a romantic gesture," she said softly.
"Love can hurt. I can kill." Pamela shrugged. "I imagine you could do far worse. Wanna see for yourself?" Pamela raised her arms and forced one of the massive tendrils to slam its way into the truck behind which the two Weskers had taken cover. The truck went spiraling away through the air, leaving the two of them clearly open in the field of Lasetta's vision. "Show me how much so."
When Lasetta saw Anassa, she went berserk once more. Stepping over the bodies of Pamela's victims, the two Florics pressed the attack, an army of green exploding all around them, a hailstorm of rubble from the damaged observatory annihilating the sidewalk behind.
Anassa bent down and threw out her arms. Flames catapulted in a wide brim of waves, searing the air and striking the plants. Pamela cried out, feeling the pain of her children as they were burned, and her anger created a most fierce form of adrenaline, empowering her dangerous, relentless strikes. The ground around Anassa exploded, and Albert called out to her as the female Wesker was sent flying into the air. Before Anassa could regain herself, Lasetta motioned with her arms, feeling the calls of her children, and one massive, tree-like vine slammed into Anassa's stomach. The woman went flying, flying, flying away towards the ocean on the other side of the observatory. Albert went after her, forgetting all about the two Florics in his haste to save his fellow researcher.
Lasetta watched them both fade away into the distance, watched as Anassa slammed into the ocean, swallowed up by the water, watched as Albert leapt into the blue after her. When they had gone, Lasetta turned away from the ocean. Turned away from Pamela, away from the destroyed facility. Her gaze went to the rest of the city. She studied the towering skyscrapers, the beautiful manors, the glassy offices and the smooth roads. All of it was a metropolis, a world that she was seeing anew, with improved eyes and improved focus.
She hated it. She hated all of it. Hated every last inch of it.
"It disgusts me," she whispered to herself, as the destruction around her and Pamela burned and collapsed into piles of scraps. In the distance, sirens were going off. Soon, there would be a great multitude of cops and other special forces. Pamela, sensing all of this danger, grabbed at Lasetta's hand in earnest.
"We have to leave, goddess," she whispered urgently back. "Now! We can't let them find you yet!"
Lasetta blinked back green tears at her new redheaded friend. "What are you!?"
"What am…I?"
"What are you? What are you really? Doesn't this world…disgust you?"
"All of it," Pamela promised her intently. "Every scrap bit of it, I assure you!"
"It needs to be burned, doesn't it? All of it… all of it needs to be burned…"
"We can do that! We can do that, I swear! We will do that! But not if the police show up and-"
Lasetta held her hand against Pamela's mouth, silencing her. Pamela felt faint almost immediately, but not from the deadly poison that was practically pouring into her body at Lasetta's touch: it was from the adoration of the goddess's touch itself.
"I want to destroy it," she whispered as more and more tears fell, flooding onto Pamela's own skin. "I want to decimate it… this city…these plants… all of it…"
Pamela blinked rapidly, her eyes widening. These plants?
Pulling away, she replied, "Goddess?"
"Look at all of it!" Lasetta screamed suddenly, gesturing violently at the mass of flora before them, as the sirens got louder and louder. "LOOK AT ALL OF IT!" The vines exploded at her fury, but she desperately pushed them away, a look of disgust upon her face. "I…I hate them! I hate all of them! They disgust me!" A long, smooth green tendril sought out her touch, but Lasetta slapped it away. As she did, Pamela felt anger and pain rise within her. What was the goddess doing!?
"These things…are death…" Lasetta hissed, backing away from the flora that desperately followed her, desperately desired their mother's touch. "These things… destroyed me…" She cast a miserable, terrible glance at Pamela, shaking her head as she began to sob. "I c-can't do it! I can't love them!" She grabbed her hair furiously and pulled at it. "ALL OF IT! ALL OF THESE THINGS! THEY ALL NEED TO DIE!"
"These are your children! Our children!" Pamela cried desperately, her hands shaking as she reached out for the thriving flora. "We're their mothers!"
"You're their mothers!" Lasetta shot back, stepping further and further away. "No, no, no! I don't want them! I don't want them at all! I hate them!" She gazed at the sky. "I hate…Woodrue… I hate what he's done to me! What he's taken from me! I'm going to find him… I'm going to take everything from him! I swear it!" And Lasetta turned away from Pamela, sprinting as fast as she could in the opposite direction. Pamela, her heart racing, put on a spurt of speed and desperately tried to follow. However, in the next moment, those very plants that Lasetta claimed to hate suddenly leapt into the air after their mistress, and the dark-skinned, mass weapon of biological genocide was swept into the air itself, propelled forward towards the heart of the grand city before her…