CHAPTER 2 – Kinetic
Note from the author: After the diary entries from Nebraska Jones the 'real' story is going to start taking place in this chapter right here. It's not written in first person anymore, but from the 3rd person view (to avoid confusion).
I'm falling asleep
And I dream that you're mine
I dream that you're mine
You're mine.
Radiokiller, Lonely Heart
There is a grey ceiling above her.
Although her strange amber eyes are transfixed on it, she does not see it.
There is the stomping sound of heavy boots walking past her room.
She does not hear it.
Her back and head are placed on top of soft blankets.
She does not feel it.
Her muscles are slightly jerking while she is focusing on waking up from her trance.
She knows that outside these walls the glory of the day has arrived.
Nothing but nightmares have filled her dreams during the night.
A night that consisted of barely three hours of sleep.
She longs to go outside, yearns to get fresh air to clear her head from this miserable situation.
What would it feel like? To her terror, she has to admit that she can't remember.
The virus inside of her has erased any human memories such as that relieving feeling of summer rain dropping on your skin or the taste of fresh spring air that is impregnated with the scent of blooming flowers.
And this is all just because of one single man and his undeniable desire that has caused her to become what she is now. Albert Wesker.
Her heart aches as she thinks of his name and she turns herself on her side, pulling her knees up to her chest to prevent it from aching. All night has she been waiting for him.
All night until the hidden light of the day has painted the sky outside blue.
It is silly. Stupid. She knows it but the now fully grown the virus won't let go off him anymore, steering her emotions and hearts desires. They all orbit around him now. It is her choice.
The intimacy they had shared was incredible and she guesses it has brought him what he wanted.
The sex they had was the final push it has needed - the virus possessing her.
There is nothing but benefits in every action that he does. The virus is in control of her now. Making her indestructible, animalistic and craving for his affection.
Still she has this unpleasant, annoying throbbing between her legs. That yearn to become one with him and she decides to take a long, hot shower now to take care of that herself.
As frustrating as the way it had ended is, still will he be a part of her sexual fantasies.
Her high cheekbones are accentuated by a slight rosy color and her lower parts flush as she thinks back to what he let her do on top of him. How he gave her the pervy feeling of being the one in control.
She steps into the shower and turns the water on.
It is hot and pours down to meet the top of her head and she tightly shuts her eyes under its caressing.
Why is water capable of that? Giving you this feeling of being reborn?
As if all your sorrows were drowned and washed away down the drain.
Slowly the stream eases its way down over the gentle curves of her backside and her legs to finally hit the porcelain ground, creating a soothing sound. The sound of summer rain.
She likes that tone and notices how her dead human part tries to dig its zombie-like figure to the surface of her mind, reminding her of what a human should be like. It doesn't work.
It's like a signal sent into outer space never to return.
Briefly there is a throbbing pain going through her temples, but it fades quicker than she can count to three.
There's an ache that's even more intense. Located in a delicate place of her body.
Slightly she bends her head backwards to let the water run over her face and soak the front of her body.
Her fingertips slowly stroke over the porcelain skin between her breasts, over her stomach until they land in the spot that has been aching since yesterday.
Her other hand finds hold on the white tiles of the shower wall.
For a moment, she hesitates, ruefully thinking of the words he has said to her before leaving her lying there like a toy he got bored of.
"Why don't you fuck yourself", he said in a humiliating tone. "As far as I could tell you where close anyway, make it a good finish."
The mere memory of this moment makes her close her eyes in shame.
Look at you, Nebraska, she thinks. Making every word he has said the bitter truth. You're standing under the shower, touching yourself … isn't this exactly what he wants?
But how will he find out … he never will. She is sure about this.
Wiping these thoughts out of her mind she continues to sneak the tips of her finger inside her warmth.
He is here, standing right behind her. She can feel his radiating warmth. His strong arms embrace her wet curves from behind and his hands cup her breasts while his lips make the skin of her neck tingle under their touch.
"You are so beautiful", he breathes against her ear, stroking a few soaked strands of her hair aside.
There's the ghost of a smile at the corner of her lips and she closes her eyes, leaning her head back, slightly parting her lips as she inhales.
It is her damn fantasy, why not create him the way she pleases?
Make him say things, he probably would never say out loud.
His steel-like body is leaned against her well- sculptured shoulder blades, his even harder erection pressed against the small of her back.
"I'm going to take care of you", he continues his teasing. "Thoroughly."
Startled she gasps for air and stops in motion as there's a sudden loud knock on her door.
And another one.
She throws a furious glance at the white tiles in front of her, her amber hues alight.
Why does she need to be awoken from dreams that she does want?
All that remains for her are the horrible nightmares as it seems.
"Well, fuck!", she curses in frustration and sends her fist crashing into the tiles.
Her impulsive blow causes some of them to break out of the wall and fall down to shatter on the porcelain ground of the shower.
She lets her chin sink towards her chest and stares at the little broken pieces being flushed into the drain by the force of the water.
The skin on her knuckles has turned slightly red but it doesn't hurt her.
There's another insisting knock. Eventually she decides to turn the tap off.
Heavily breathing and with a weakness in her knees that takes her by surprise, she grabs for a robe hanging on the hook of the door and covers herself up.
She better goes and opens the door. If not, Wesker would probably kick it open.
She is glad that he even has knocked.
It would have been more than embarrassing being caught in the shower doing something that would prove him again that she is nothing but an overly horny, infected piece of trash to him.
Logically thinking it can be no-one else but him, right?
The anger from before takes possession of her and she swears, no matter how aroused she might have been, no matter how much she wished for him to fuck her brains out in her fantasy world, she would scratch his bloody eyes out if he dared to ask for a second round.
She has given him too much of her already.
She let him sleep with her, possess her body and what is worst, she is giving him the gift of the fully developed virus.
Determined and with a stern expression on her face she wanders towards the door while adjusting the soft robe sloppily around her wet body.
The look on her face turns into one of confusion as she sees John Williams, or better Doctor John Williams, standing in front of it.
He is a tall, slim man with the constant smell of too much eau de Cologne.
His dark-brown hair is strictly combed sideways and he is staring at her through sherry-like eyes.
It's disturbing looking into them.
Not as disturbing as the crimson hell that Wesker's eyes are, but still weird enough to make her feel uneasy.
Right behind him there is standing a guard. He is not only very tall, he is also heavily armed.
There is a big gun laying in his arms like a baby that is waiting to be awoken from its sleep.
Just like everybody else in his position, he is wearing a gas mask and a black uniform, so she can't tell who it is hiding behind it.
"Doctor", she greets him sarcastically, her heartbeat slowing down from her wonderful daydream and her weird expectance to see Wesker.
'Didn't you learn it last night, you silly girl?', she thinks bitterly. 'He will never show up. Not for an apology, not for a second round. Although he does owe you for pulling you into his circle of carnal lust.'
She tries to ignore the fact that a sudden disappointment takes over her.
Her fingertips dig themselves into the doorframe just like they have dug themselves in her aching flesh before.
"Good morning, Miss Jones", the Doctor greets her too brightly, showing her a row of wolfish teeth. "I'm here because Wesker has sent me to have a look on you."
"Wesker", she says hollow. "To have a look on me? About what?"
To her embarrassment she realizes that the not very well tied robe reveals quite a lot of her cleavage and as it is too short for comfort the two gentlemen get to see the view of her bare legs from mid-thigh on.
Quickly she puts a protective arm over her chest and with the other hand she tries to cover herself up as good as possible.
If her eyes are not playing a trick on her, she is almost sure that Doctor Williams is slightly blushing.
She throws an intense glare at both of them.
"Erm ... well, it concerns the unsatisfactory development of the virus inside your body", he replies, forcing himself to not let his eyes wander over her body and quietly clears his throat. "We need to run a few tests on you. As you know, we are in great need of a sample."
Nebraska huffs, masking the feeling of sheer panic taking over her.
"You have to be kidding me, right? It develops just the way it is supposed to be. End of story. Now get the hell away from me."
The guard standing behind the Doctor clenches the grip of his gun as if to try and remind her of the intimidating piece of metal in his arms.
"I am afraid, you have no choice", Doctor Williams says and there is a pitiful expression on his face. But also something else. Enjoyment. Yes, he is enjoying this.
"Or what?", she says challenging. "Is that little lapdog of Wesker's behind you going to shoot me down?"
Doctor Williams throws a quick glance at the guy standing behind him.
"We were hoping that his presence wouldn't be necessary, but Wesker insisted on it since you are ..."
"Since I'm what?", she huffs challenging, the glowing of her eyes intensifying itself for a spell.
"Does it matter?", he says, his voice serious and the complete opposite of his attitude before.
This is not a game to him anymore. "I am not here to reply any of your questions. I just do what I've been asked to do. So, would you care to come with me?"
"Can I at least finish my shower?", she acquiesces in a sarcastic tone. "Or would you like to drag me with you with nothing on my skin?"
How long has he been trapped in here?
How long does he sit under those artificial, too bright lights already?
Jason quickly looks up as he hears a lock being turned. It is Wesker.
He swallows bitterly and turns his head sideways in order to avoid looking at this man's face.
The man who has forced several people standing under his command to bring him here.
"Are you here to explain to me what the hell this is all about, Wesker?", he asks, trying to remain a calm and stable tone.
He gets up from the bed he was sitting upon and now faces him directly.
He is not afraid of him. At least he tries to tell that to himself.
Because seeing this tall man, completely dressed in black, walking towards him is an admittedly frightening sight. But why show it on the outside?
"In fact, I am", Wesker replies, his cold voice sending a shiver down his spine. "I guess, we are both not into chit-chat, right? So let's get straight to the point."
"If this is about Nebraska ...", Jason utters, a bitter smile playing at the corner of his mouth.
"That's too good for a guess", Wesker replies.
Jason chuckles quietly in disbelief. "I guess, you have found out about us. And to be honest. I do not care about that. It is none of your ..."
"In this case it is my business", Wesker interrupts him. "She is my test subject and I don't want any of my men near her."
"Well, looking at that ridiculous scene around us, you seem to be more than serious about that. Tell me Wesker, are you sure it is only because of the fact that she is your test subject? Be honest, do you want her for yourself?"
There is supposed to be a tone of disinterest in Jason's voice, but there is an awareness in his eyes that proves the opposite. It is a question that means everything to him.
"If you think that I want her the same way you do, meaning a relationship, then you are on the wrong track."
'Lies' his virus whispers.
Wesker shakes this unwelcome voice off.
"The main problem is" Wesker lifts one of his fingers to underline his statement. "Staying with you hinders the virus from developing itself."
"What the hell are you talking about?", Jason says and knits his eyebrows annoyed.
"It means exactly what I have said. Have you not noticed how even after all those weeks as a carrier she is still the same ... woman."
Annoying little brat, he felt like saying firstly, but he swallows those words down.
"And that virus she has stabilized for us", Wesker adds. "I have never experienced something like that before. Or maybe it is just her. It's mesmerizing but also steals every single bit of patience I have inside of myself. You have been a researcher yourself and watching her development I am sure that you can agree with me that it is not going the way it should be going."
"Well, yes I do", Jason admits. "But to be honest with you ... I am glad that it is going like this. You have destroyed her life already, Wesker, so I am more than happy that a little woman is finally the one who is standing up against you."
There is a shadow wandering over Wesker's face and he can't think of any other solution but to grab Jason by his throat und push him against the wall.
Heavily panting Jason locks his gaze with his and tries not to fight against it.
As much as he wants to kill this man, he knows that he does not stand a chance against his powers.
But those words coming out of his mouth before, they are something he has had on his chest for a long time already and finally having been able to get rid of them feels great.
Actually it is the fact of seeing Wesker upset is what makes him the happiest.
Who would have thought it? Albert Wesker, self-assigned god, at his wits end.
"You love her, don't you?", Wesker asks, his tone as sweet as sugar, a creepy smile on his lips.
Jason gives him his most disgusted look and before he can even re-think any of his planned actions he spits at him.
This action is steered by an unexplainable impulse that can only be described as jealousy and hurt pride.
"Fuck you", he says angry.
Keep on poking inside the wasps nest.
Wesker remains unmoved as the wetness crashes against his cheek.
He then slowly wipes it off with the back of his gloved hand. His jaw is tense but his breath is calm.
"You really have a Death wish, don't you Jason?", he grows deeply. "That would be too fucking nice if that came reality for you, right? But guess what ... you haven't served your purpose yet. Just like Nebraska hasn't served hers."
"I have nothing left anymore. You took it all from me", he bitterly throws back at him. "My family, my life, my ..."
"Woman?", Wesker figures out and there's a creepy smile showing at the corner of his mouth.
Jason can't point at it right now but he can feel that Wesker knows something.
Something valuable. Something that could destroy him.
"Soon the day will come where she won't recognize you anymore. Where she won't even recognize or remember her true self anymore. Where she will no longer tell friend from foe. Where she will realize that the only right place will be by my side."
"She hates you! Never will she bend to such an inhuman like you are!"
Desperately he is trying to soak some air in and fails miserably.
He knows that his words are nothing but empty excuses to veil the fact that he has lost her already.
Lost someone he could have probably shared a life with.
"I am afraid it's too late for that. Already she seems to be a slave to my will. Oh yes, I had her yesterday", Wesker says full of pleasure, moving in closer. "That little rebel of a woman couldn't say no to me."
"Lies", Jason forces out of his hurting throat, not believing his own words either.
Suddenly no word, no sentence, no language on this planet could be able explain the amount of emotions going on inside of him.
Everything just vanishes but also appears at the same time.
He doesn't feel the tight grip of Wesker's hand around his throat anymore but still there is this unbearable feeling of choking.
His limbs are boneless but his whole body seems to break down in pain.
His blood is boiling but the coldest chill is eating its way through him.
Anger, frustration, capitulation.
Wesker's presence puts everyone in a state like that and he is afraid that this bastard has already fogged up her mind to.
Or should he say 'fucked' her mind up too?
It is terrible to realize that his worst imaginations seem to have become reality.
Wesker and Nebraska.
"Why should I lie about something like that?"
Wesker cups Jason's chin in his hand and puts his mouth right next to his ear.
"Don't you just love it too to watch her face when you do her? That look of complete fulfillment when I moved into her. Those moans of pleasure as I made her take all of me, those desperate gasps for more as I did her harder than you probably ever had." He sighs in fake pleasure. "And don't get me started on her body, that betraying innocent look of her eyes ... Does it still feel to you as if I am lying?"
A mean smile plays at the corner of Wesker's mouth and his hand lets off Jason.
He crashes down on the floor, coughing and putting his hands over his sore neck.
He has to control his breath, has to try to not vomit, has to focus so hard to not see them, to not even imagine what Wesker just described before.
The plain thought of it ... of course he is lying, must be lying.
Because Nebraska has made it clear several times already.
Her wish of killing Wesker in order to escape together with him. Together.
'You matter so much to me, Jason.' Her naked body entangled with his. 'I want us to be free together.'
Those were her words. Us.
How pathetic it suddenly seems now. How ridiculous to have even trusted her.
Because he is sure, if Wesker is not lying then she is.
"Think about my words, Jason. You have time enough in here", Wesker says casually and adjusts his gloves. "As sorry as I am, but I have to go now. There is a meeting I have to attend. A meeting that will decide about your future as well. So, if you'll excuse me."
"Son of a bitch, I'm going to get you for that."
Quietly Nebraska keeps cursing to herself, while quickly pacing down the long corridor in front of her. Time to burst into Wesker's quarters without any invitation. Someone has to take the first step.
It is nothing but childish behavior that Wesker has lost himself into. Nothing but fear of crossing the way of a woman that was able to unveil his masquerade.
Having a good excuse in her hands which is a clip board, she hurries down the familiar corridor towards his quarters.
"Mind if I am the one to bring Wesker the results?", she said cold after the investigation, moving towards the Doctor until it was too close for comfort. Immediately he pressed the board into her hands, licking his dry lips in fear. He has never felt very comfortable in the presence of Wesker's infected subjects and most of all in his presence in general, so he is glad that she is the one who relieves him from this task.
The demand to speak with him has suddenly turned from being a strong wish to an absolute necessity. If Wesker thinks he can fuck her and throw her away without dragging any consequences with it then he's on the wrong track.
But as she pushes the door open all determination that was inside her body disappears.
She freezes in motion. There is someone sitting on the sofa with Wesker.
A breath-taking beautiful brunette. Her legs are crossed and there is a cigarette between her lips. The way they are sitting together is almost too much to bear. The brunette's hand is lying on one of his broad shoulders and she is sitting confidentially close to him.
Wesker throws a glance towards the sound of the opening door and Nebraska standing under it.
For a moment she can see the ghost of surprise and maybe even astonishment on his features.
But those emotions disappear too fast and get replaced by fury instead.
"Ever heard of knocking before?", he scoffs, his arm stretched along the backside of the sofa. His hand is almost brushing the woman's shoulder. "Get the hell out."
There are several pieces of paper, probably reports, lying in front of them on the glass table.
Is she a business partner? Is she also after the virus she has developed?
"Sorry", is all she manages to stutter dumbfounded before turning on her heel to back out of this more than embarrassing situation.
She can't help to take a brief look back and sees how the icy blue eyes from the brunette follow her and she is almost sure to see a glint of amusement and pity behind all the rising smoke of the cigarette between her fingers.
"Wait", the brunette suddenly chirps sweetly. "You are Nebraska, aren't you?"
She has an accent. Probably European. Nebraska decides to give her the non-friendly treatment.
"No, it's West Virginia. Who wants to know that anyway?", she replies and with a slight lift of her chin she turns herself towards them again, trying to gather any feeling of bravery inside of her. Just any feeling that proves the opposite of her undeniable inner pain of seeing Wesker sitting there with this ... goddess of a woman.
"Oh my, he is right about you."
In a superior manner she blows the smoke out. Briefly Nebraska eyes Wesker, who is carrying an undefinable expression on his face. He seems to avoid any glimpse into her direction. What has he told her? Eventually he opens his mouth.
"Nebraska, get out, just like I said", Wesker commands once more.
There is no mercy in his tone. No recognition of any passion he might have felt for her yesterday.
Nebraska knows that he means it and the wish of getting out of here is more than urgent.
Just as she is on the verge of proceeding her walk towards the exit once more the brunette proceeds her monologue.
"Oh, don't be like that, Albert", she says unimpressed, playfully.
She shortly pats Wesker's leg and slowly gets up from the sofa to amble towards her.
She is definitely a woman who is more than aware of what she has to offer.
Her body is enfolded in black silk that covers only what is necessary and she is nothing but radiating confidence.
"I'd like to take a look at your … experiment."
As if waiting for that code word something inside of Nebraska seems to wake up. Like a hellhound it growls deep inside of her and the amber of her eyes slightly lights up.
She can smell the brunette's expensive perfume with a sudden clear intensity, but also the invincible smell of her vanity, shallowness and of her blood, pumping through her veins.
The virus has sharpened her senses.
"You haven't mentioned how beautiful she is", she says, a fake smile on her face and her arms crossed under her probably fake breasts. "It's almost too much of a pity you had to destroy such a supposedly brilliant human mind by infecting it. But ah, it is inevitable if we want the virus, isn't it?"
"We?", Nebraska hisses through gritted teeth, squinting her eyes with growing provocation.
Wesker turns his head towards Nebraska, just to see how her eyes narrow themselves at the woman standing in front of her, how her hands turn into fists. And her eyes. They suddenly seem to be on fire.
"What the hell!", the brunette exclaims, staggering a few steps backwards, her eyes transfixed on the beauty releasing her power.
There's a sudden rumbling, distant sound like when a forest far away gets hit by a storm and its trees start screaming and bending themselves under its sheer power. The board in her hand falls to the ground and suddenly Wesker can feel that strange pulling inside of him awakening.
The fire, the tension, the seduction from yesterday are back in the room.
But this time so much stronger. The room turns a few shades darker as one of the light bulbs above them explodes, sending hundreds of little shards raining to the ground.
Sparks of electricity shoot out of the ceiling, raining down on the top of her copper-haired head.
Eventually he finds back to his senses and immediately closes the distance between them to grab Nebraska by the upper arm. Almost does he let go off it it as her skin is boiling hot.
Not that it would have hurt him, he is mainly taken by surprise.
Immediately she reacts to his touch, her skin tingles as the virus feels the connection to its counterpart. She turns her burning hues towards him and suddenly they seem to be in the eye of the storm because everything goes quiet. For a moment this incredible sensation of being drawn into this black void that is their desire for each other is present and she wishes for nothing more but to drift into his arms, to touch him, to kiss him, to be united with him like yesterday.
But still that little human part inside of her digs its way to the surface and she rips her arm out of his grip.
Although it's hard, very hard, it's like her body wants to be stuck with his forever.
Not ever letting go of it.
"Don't fucking touch me", she hisses and puts a protective hand over the skin he has dared to touch before. There is a slight tremble detectable in her voice.
Wesker decides to act as unimpressed as possible and so he first turns his attention to the brunette who doesn't seem to have realized at the slightest what just happened. Experiencing a B.O.W unleashing their power. There's a first for everything.
"That's enough", he puts an end to this. "Excella! Sit. Down. Now."
Every syllable cuts through the air like a blade. Excella's face has turned white under the several coats of bronzing make-up and Nebraska notices a slight shake of her fingers. She swallows and nods before staggering back to the sofa. Quite the opposite if comparing it to her elegant steps from before.
"And you." He points a warning finger towards Nebraska and bends down to pick up the board she has dropped.
Before he can take a glance at it she rips it out of his hands and presses it against her chest. There is something indefinable in her gaze. Something black and empty. Something inhuman.
"You'll come with me for a word. Now!"
The door to his office slams closed and he furiously turns himself towards her.
Just as he is about to shout at her, she allows herself to have the first word.
"You're collecting women like trophies, don't you Wesker?"
Burning, breath-taking jealousy takes over her. Her heart squeezes itself together in pain and she raises her hand to hurt him. Just like he is hurting her.
With ease he stops the blow that she is trying to send across his face. Her smaller fist fits easily into his gloved hand.
Not giving up she tries to start an attack with her legs instead. Her muscles suddenly feel tense and powerful, the virus is in complete control of her and wishes for nothing more but to destroy him.
Before she can even touch him with her heels, he firmly grabs her wrists and pushes his stomach against hers. There's a loud thud audible and a moan of surprise produced from Nebraska as his weight pushes her against the dresser standing in front of the wall.
There is so much strength in it that it knocks off the lamp standing on it. Loudly it shatters to the ground. The light bulb in it explodes into several pieces that strew themselves over the floor.
Helplessly she gasps for air as his hands find her butt and easily lift her up to place her on top of the furniture, shoving any remaining books and papers carelessly off its wooden surface.
Cardboard and stashes of paper crash to the ground. It is all noises that the brunette probably must have heard and for a moment Nebraska wonders what kind of impression of what they're doing in the office it must give her.
Both of their heartbeats have accelerated themselves to an unbearable drumming sound in their heads caused by the power of the two viruses awakening together.
His fingers dig themselves in her soft strands at the back of her head, capturing her head in his grip so she has no chance of escaping the burning intensity in his eyes.
She swallows and steadily holds the gaze with her creator. For a felt eternity he seems to soak in the beauty of her facial features. The world seems to be charged with electricity as it is awaiting their next move.
"I can feel it", he eventually utters quietly. "I can feel the virus inside of you. Finally."
He inhales as if being relieved and the tenseness in his body is gone. "Why did you have to come, Nebraska?", he continues, leaning his forehead towards hers. "Why?"
She wants to answer, wants him to stop his ravishing, but the virus holds her in a tight grip and she is unable of any movement or word.
He is close, so very close. Their lips are only a few inches apart and his accelerated breathing turns her more on that he would possibly ever know.
His lower body isn't touching hers, but the warmth radiating from it awakes every single nerve between her spread legs.
Forcing herself to not lose the upper hand of the situation this time, she asks him a question in return instead.
"Who the hell is she and what does she want with my virus?"
"Your virus?", he answers with a smirk.
"Yes, I assume she is a business partner, right?", she continues, squinting her eyes in suspicion. "Or at least I hope you had doing business with her on the sofa ..."
"So, this is what this is about?", he chuckles darkly.
Ashamed she turns her head to the side and she wishes that he would let go off her wrists, so she could cross her arms in front of her chest.
To feel less exposed, to feel less vulnerable in front of this man.
"Like I said before", she continues, her eyes set into a dark corner of his office. "Women are nothing but a proof of power that you like to collect on your way to your insane goals, aren't they?"
"What difference should a woman in my bed make? You seem to be mistaken me to be a person who easily succumbs to weak, human needs. You have no idea, who I truly am, Miss Jones."
"You do not succumb to human needs?", she says and exhales derisively. "What about yesterday? You have fucked me, Wesker! You have done me like I am some sex toy, just to leave me in the end like a whore that you don't feel like paying. Don't you know how god damn humiliating that was? Tell me ... tell me, that you're not this kind of person. I dare you to say to my face, that there is nothing that you want from me. That the reason why all of this happened is, because you have lost control over yourself!"
A groan of agony escapes her throat as he lays his strong fingers around her throat and carelessly shoves her from the wooden surface of the dresser to the ground. As her reflexes aren't fully developed yet, she can't react fast enough and therefore crashes with her shoulder on the hard floor.
Shutting her eyes in pain, she rolls herself on her back. Wesker steps next to her and bends down to grab her by her hair, painfully tugging at it.
She tries to stay strong, tries to show no sign of pain and with all strength that she can gather, she reaches with her hands for his and scratches over the back of his fist. But all that she manages to do is rip off some of the black color on his gloves. Why does he always have to wear them?
She exhales frustrated.
"I never lose control", he hisses dangerously.
A shiver runs down her spine. The tone in his voice scares her. There's only one thing she can hear in it. Madness. He has truly lost his mind.
"Fine, I fucked you, but that's only because I wanted the virus to take over you. I wanted you to forget who you are ..." He lays his lips right on her ear and with a sneer she shows him her teeth. "I literally fucked your brain out, haven't I? Don't you think I got what I wanted in the end by giving you the imaginary feeling to be something special?"
With a sudden thud her head crashes back onto the cold, marble floor as he lets go off her hair and this is when hell breaks loose for her. Tears fill her eyes and although she swore to herself to never be weak in front of him, she sobs.
There's a throbbing pain going through her shoulder. But this pain is never as bad as the horrible invisible knife that is piercing her heart right now. It isn't the final blow though. The strike to kill her hasn't reached the vulnerable part of her exposed neck yet.
"It is you who enjoys having a man inside of you just to gather a feeling of being the one in power. It is you, who is the weak one. It is you who succumbs to low human needs. You willingly spread your legs for anyone, don't you? Jason, me ... who knows how many others there were before me. Let's face it, little dove, you're nothing but a cock-sucking whore."
It is like the whole room has gone silent. There's not a single draw of breath and her head feels like trapped inside a sound-proof bubble.
She can hear her own blood rushing through her veins and she looks at him, trying to proceed the meaning of his words, trying to tell her heart that the poison of his words should stop its beating.
But crawling on the ground, in one of the lowest positions she could have ever found herself, she looks up to him, an eerie smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
It is a scary contrast to the tears that are streaming down her cheeks.
Wesker stares down to her like a hunter watching his dying prey.
But deep inside of him, he can sense it again - this weird connection that his virus developed with its counterpart. It hurts him too seeing her like that. At least this deadly void that he's being drawn into has never been so present like right now. And that's why he has to be cruel to her, has to hurt her.
To feel the pain himself. He wants to be punished for allowing himself to have fallen for her.
"I see", she manages to say quietly, her heart drumming in her chest, proving to her that it is not dead yet.
Slowly, like a sleepwalker, she gets up from the ground, ignoring the shards from the lightbulb that dig themselves into the palm of her hands.
"I see", she breathes once more. So quietly, so full of suffer.
With slow steps she walks towards the exit of his dimly light office. As her hand grabs for the doorknob, she hesitates for a second and then looks back over her shoulder.
He is still standing there, his back turned towards her.
His hands are turned into fists, the mere pressure of his fingertips digging deeply into the leather, leaving half-moon shaped marks.
She feels sorry for him. Sorry for him being such a pitiful and pathetic person.
"You may be able to sense my virus, but never forget that I am also connected to yours now. I will never regret what we have done."
Does she know that all he wants to do is gently stroke over her body with his ravishing hands?
Does she know that the tenseness in his jaw is nothing but an indicator to his own denial?
"Look at yourself in the mirror and say everything that you have just said to me once more. Could you bear to look into the face of a liar?"
Of course she knows, they are bound now.
Suddenly there is an amused, yet wounded, smile back on her face. "Fine, if you want to call me cock-sucking whore, go ahead. But do you think I can't see the boner you have for me from here? So, if you'll excuse me, I'll show myself out now."
Fighting against the tears in her eyes and the weakness in her knees she knocks at the door to Jason's room. She needs him. Now.
She wants to embrace his body, feel his human warmth and consolation.
She wants to feel his love until those terrible images of that beautiful woman have disappeared out of her mind, until those killing words of Wesker have erased from her memory. But there is no response.
"Jason, it's me", she says softly and leans her forehead against the wooden door. "Please, open."
The door remains unlocked and to her despise she has lost the fight against her tears as they are filling her amber eyes, the door in front of her becoming a blur.
The tears are warm and almost like an embrace to her beaten body.
Sobbing she presses her back against the door and slowly sinks down to the floor.
What the hell has just happened? In disbelief and shock she looks at her shaking fingers.
She moves and stretches them, a wondrous stare in her eyes.
They're hands that may look beautiful and fragile, but inhabited seems to slumber an unspeakable power not even she was aware of. Probably not even Wesker.
He might have tried to gather himself together but she could see and mainly feel her virus taking over his. The indecisiveness in his grip. Maybe even a little bit of panic.
Despite all those thoughts there is still one question of main interest: she wants to know who that woman was. She burns to know it.
Was she in the end really nothing but a nice fuck to him?
A little toy he could take out and play with just to throw it away in the end?
It would prove every single word he has said to her before as true.
But she knows, he wants her just as much as she wants him. More than ever before.
Never has the virus been so present and so in control her like right now.
This longing for him is racing through her veins, making her breath hard to control.
Nebraska pushes her fist against her forehead, shutting her eyes tightly.
"You fucking dumbass", she sobs. Her lungs hurt and burn.
Frustrated she throws the board to the ground. Information that will never be seen by him.
Three red drops land on the little piece of glass in front of him.
Placing it under the microscope, Dr. Williams tiredly collapses on the chair and then squeezes one eye closed to have a look through the lens.
Slowly he adjusts the focus until the substance is clear in front of his eyes.
For a few minutes he studies Nebraska's blood, taking notes on the board next to him.
There's no sound, but the scratching of the pen and his face is motionless and serious, there's no recognition whether what he sees is pleasing or just plain ordinary, but there's a slight unease detectable as he gets up to rush into the corner to look for a certain file. Wesker's file.
Quickly he finds what he has been looking for and impatiently he rips the piece of paper out of the stack to rush back to his working place.
Carefully he starts comparing the blood pictures and what he finds, causes his breath to stop for a second.
"Holy shit …", he mutters and quickly reaches for the phone on the working table.
Wesker almost immediately answers.
"It better be important", he snarls. "I'm in a meeting."
Dr. Williams swallows. Wesker never really helps him to calm his nerves. "I'm sure it is important, sir. It's about subject NJ326. I think, you better come and have a look yourself."