CHAPTER 6 – HEIRS OF THE WORLD
And if you go
I want to go with you
And if you die
I want to die with you.
System Of A Down, Lonely Day
But it's so hard, my love
To say it to you out loud.
Florence & The Machine, No Light No Light, Ceremonials
Jill is encircling him like a wildcat its prey.
The slow clicking of her heels on the concrete floor creates a reverberating sound inside the empty building and the hem of her cloak is following her like a black cloud.
Her focus is set on a man kneeling next to her on the ground.
Suffering great pain he reaches a pleading hand towards her, begging for mercy, begging for release in a foreign language none of them is able to understand.
But the syringe carrying the sample is already drained and lying in the woman's hand, standing in the far corner, watching the whole scene through the red lenses of a wolf mask.
She can hear her own nervous breath behind it, sounding like a tin robot and she has to try hard to stay calm as the man suddenly clutches for Jill's wrist, squeezing it as a wave of purest agony takes over his facial features.
His eyeballs turn black like crawling veins and Jill shrugs him off without any mercy, a look of pure disdain hidden behind her Venetian bird mask.
In reaction the grip around the glass cylinder in Nebraska's hand intensifies itself, causing the thin glass to shatter into several pieces that cut themselves into her palm.
Instinctively she opens it to let the shards rain to the ground.
Sweat gets mixed with blood and she lets her tongue briefly run over her dry upper lip while small red drops splatter onto the floor. She doesn't feel pain.
Suddenly the man goes quiet and his figure slightly slumps forward, feeble and beaten.
The intensity of the moment is almost palpable in the thick air inside the building.
The silence only lasts a few seconds, before the man screams and black tentacles shoot their way out of his body.
There's a chill running down Nebraska's spine as she watches his head practically being ripped into pieces by the force of the virus. Uroboros has rejected him.
But that doesn't matter.
The virus has its own intelligence and will find its way to infect each and every civilian in a matter of days.
Jill and Nebraska throw a look towards each other. With this done the fate of the last village in the area is sealed.
There's a thick cloud of red dust following his jeep.
The past three hours he has passed nothing but vast lands of dry grass and seemingly dead trees that reached their limbs towards the sun beaming down from the sky above Africa.
Now he is able to make out a village in the waves of the glowing heat in front of his eyes.
Kijuju.
Admittedly, Chris is glad to have this long journey behind him and finally see the start of his mission.
Those hours on the plane and driving have made him impatient and filled him with an inner discomfort.
Suddenly every minute that flows away feels like a loss and like it would diminish his chances of saving Jill. If she's really here …
Slowly he rolls into the seam of the village and after he has stopped the vehicle, he takes a minute to take a glance through the safety of the car window.
The first impression is that of a normal African village.
It is quite the opposite of the American standard of life to say at the least, but people can cope.
In this village houses look abandoned, there's litter on the dusty road and the people walking around are dressed in shabby clothes.
It's not exactly what disturbs Chris about this place, it's the atmosphere the city is charged with.
A certain unease, fear and even aggression seem to lie over it like a thick cloth.
The light of the day seems suppressed and the mood of the inhabitants wandering around dark.
It sickens him how the vulnerability of these human beings is being used for the sake of terrorism.
Just as he has stepped out of the jeep a female voice rises behind him.
"Welcome to Africa, my name is Sheva Alomar."
He turns around to the sound of it and finds himself faced with a young woman.
Her skin is a light brown, her hair is black and put up in a neat ponytail and she's dressed in a lilac tank top and light combat trousers.
"Chris Redfield."
"Your reputation precedes you, Mr. Redfield. It's an honor."
"Just Chris", he quickly adds, suddenly feeling a bit old being addressed like that. "So, you'll be accompanying me to the destination?"
There's something kind and deer like about her eyes and he can't help but to show her a slight smile.
What she's about to say next wipes it away though.
"Yes. Tensions are running high ever since the change in the government … and they're not going to be happy to see an American, BSAA or not. That's why I'm your partner. Help, put them at ease."
"I'm sure, you'll do just fine."
Sheva turns away from him, meaning for him to follow her towards their first destination of this mission. Gearing up with weapons at a black market merchant.
"Partner …" Chris quietly adds and briefly a pain takes over his chest, when he thinks of Jill.
Of being so close and yet so far away from her.
Sheva, who expected to hear the thud of Chris' combat boots following her, turns around, a questioning look on her face.
"You okay?", she asks carefully.
Chris immediately wakes up from digging in the past, trying to focus on the here and now instead.
"Yeah, sorry … it's nothing. Let's go."
At least he is finally here to do what is necessary and he's going to see it through.
Nebraska is feeling sick. Very sick.
Today's work has been too much for her mind and most of all too much for her body to keep up.
Her stomach heaves and just in time she reaches the bathroom to release her stomach's content.
With a sob she sinks down, using the marble wall as support and leans her forehead against the palms of her hands.
She thought the time of having to vomit every day was done.
The past five days have proved her wrong.
She constantly feels drained, sick and this morning another unwanted surprise woke her from her sleep.
She dreamt that she was trapped in the depths of an ocean, just to find in reality that she was lying in her own blood.
For a minute she silently stared at the macabre Rorschach test that escaped from between her legs.
There's only one conclusion she could come to at this very moment; it wasn't her monthly.
It was a convincing feeling deep inside of her that something was wrong.
Fortunately Wesker was already gone and so she could make all evidence disappear.
She hasn't seen him much the past days anyway.
He's always busy with his project and for now she's glad about it, because if she kept getting sicker at such a quick pace, the day, where he would take notice of her terrible state would inevitably come.
She could deal without his persistent nature very well for now.
Now sitting on the shower floor to wash the dirt and sweat from the mornings work away the sudden wish to see Dr. Williams appears inside of her.
They have never been best friends and yet he's the only person, who knows her case the longest.
She's aware that her own scientific knowledge won't help her solving this problem.
But just as well she could have trusted her female instincts …
„It's not a sign of disease or anything similar, Miss Jones. You're pregnant."
Like a hammer pounding on hard stone the single word crashes against her numb body.
"Pregnant?", she says weakly, suddenly feeling stupid for not having noticed it any sooner.
At least her period is due for over four weeks.
She has always ignored it, trying to accuse the amount of stress or the virus inhabited inside of her for the delay. It could have been nothing but side effects.
But after all the thoughtless, untamed lust and unprotected sex that Wesker and her have shared the past few weeks, it shouldn't come as the news of the year.
Since she has been infected she has never put much thought into her fertility.
At least she turned into something alien and isn't it too easy to forget about such things anyway in the heat of the moment?
Regarding all the countless moments, where Wesker has seduced her, she'd wildly guess that he doesn't care about any such details either.
"What's the bleeding all about?" Her stomach is a knot of fear and worry.
"Have you suffered any blows against your stomach recently?"
"Well … yes", she murmurs, thinking of the training sessions with Jill and her cheeks flush.
"Nothing to be worried about right now, because the child is unharmed", he reassures her. "It seems to be another perk of your virus. But I still highly suggest you drop the lessons. I'm afraid, I'll have to inform Wesker about your pregnancy."
"NO!", she bursts out.
"It is my duty to keep Wesker informed about his test subject's state. Have you forgotten that your file was assigned to me?"
There it is. The reason, why coming here was a bad idea.
"Dr. Williams", she pleads once more. "John …"
Using his first name might not wake amicable feelings inside of him, but she definitely has his full attention now and is even able to briefly see the ghost of softening on his facial features.
"He'll be better off without knowing about this", she tries to convince him bitterly. "It would be nothing but a nuisance to him. You know how much his mind is focused on that damn project. I don't want to put this burden on him right now."
"It is mainly your burden, Nebraska", he replies matter-of-factly, addressing her with her first name as well. It looks like they have come to a mute agreement to let all formalities drop. "You can't hide this forever from him."
"I know, but … I'm sure that he doesn't want it"
Her teeth dig themselves deep into her bottom lips as warm tears fill her eyes.
Her next words are a faint whisper.
"And neither do I."
John decides to rub her shoulder.
His touch is as emotionless as a robot, who is unsuccessfully trying to bring consolation to the difficult situation.
"We can abort it, Nebraska. It's not too late for it. You're only 3 weeks in", he suggests cautiously.
His touch on her shoulder is gone and instead his hands are dug deeply inside his lab coat's pockets.
The thought of destroying the growing life inside of her fills every cell of her body with horror and disgust.
She would be a murderer. She wouldn't have blood on her hands – but she'd be a murderer nonetheless.
She swallows with effort as her stomach somersaults in pain and for a moment she believes to vomit again.
"I'll think about it", she answers blandly and slowly rises from the examination chair to make her way towards the exit of this sterile room.
But before she can reach for the doorknob, John's voice raises once more.
"Fine, Nebraska. I'll keep my mouth shut", he sighs, throwing her a sharp and meaningful look.
She shows him a forced smile of gratitude in return.
Despite the feelings of doubt about his words, she can do nothing else but trust him.
"Get this thing moving!", Sheva shouts loudly and carefully sets her aim on the approaching enemies, shooting one after the other.
They are all infected. Every trace of the humanity they have once possessed has been erased by Uroboros.
When they open their mouth several tentacles emerge from it, like a disgusting flesh eating plant and their eyes are as black as coal.
Chris and Sheva have fought their way through several locations already, erasing each infected civilian that attempted to kill them.
Now they are on the inside of what seems to be a gigantic experimental facility.
Chris finds that he would have given up a long time ago, if him and his partner Sheva wouldn't have stumbled across clues about his missing partner Jill. The final proof that Claire is right.
He has seen her photo in the data base and it hurt him more than expected.
At least he knew that the only reason he came here was her.
And now that he's certain that she's closer to him than the last three years, a sudden fright takes over him.
He realizes that he has never put much into how much of a change she must have gone through.
And if they torture her … he doesn't even want to think about it.
But other gruesome facts have been brought to daylight.
This woman they have crossed ways before, Excella, has babbled about evolution and how it chooses through DNA, who is worth to proceed to the next stage. His and her vision combined … he can only imagine, who she meant by 'his'.
They're both following each clue they can get for the past day and he believes to have never felt so exhausted and tired.
They are standing on a big circular platform in an endlessly high room.
The walls are plastered with thousands and thousands of those white coffin like pods.
Each one of them contains a human being.
A life that has been destroyed by power hungry people and their allies.
Chris runs to the center of the platform to enter the computer system that hopefully gets the thing to move again. Hastily he works on the keyboard with his fingers, with no result.
"It's no good … I think someone is stopping it."
"Got you", Sheva suddenly says more to herself than to Chris after she has discovered an infected soldier several meters below them operating a lever. Magically the transport upwards continues.
"Good work", Chris compliments his young partner.
He has to admit that she's doing a decent job until now.
Of course the signs of tiredness are visible on her face too, but still she has dedicated her support to him without failure until now.
Without her, he would probably be dead by now.
But Sheva's success doesn't last long.
More soldiers have appeared out of the dark hallways to spoil their journey.
This time Chris grabs his sniper rifle and sends a straight shot through the heads of the Majini, who operate the lever.
For once god seems to be on their side and they reach the top of the long tunnel like room without the appearance of more civilians.
Running off the platform they quickly rush over the metallic bridge that leads them into the next room.
It is covered in dry dirt and the smell of flesh is permeating the thick air.
Their eyes, before used to bright, white light have to get used to the sudden dull darkness.
"More ruins?", Sheva exclaims, the exhaustion clearly audible in her voice. "You think Excella is here?"
"If we wanna find out, we're gonna have to lower that bridge", Chris advises and points at the mentioned object at the other end of the room.
Sheva nods and jogs over to a lever that hopefully fulfills their wish.
With a loud thud the lever bangs against the opposite side, but nothing is happening.
"It's no good … the power is off", Sheva sighs.
"They never said it was going to be easy", Chris smirks about their expected failure.
"Got that right. Let's see if we can find a way to get it back on."
Their focus is suddenly drawn to a small hut next to the bridge. Without an exchange of any words they both understand, what the other is thinking.
"Let me guess, it's going to be locked?"
"The preparations are almost complete. Then we can leave", Excella purrs and thrusts the thin needle of the syringe into Wesker's arm.
Longer than necessary her fingertips stay on his skin in hope to gain a little bit of affection in return.
"Good", Wesker answers unimpressed by her touch.
"You know, I was surprised Las Plagas was such a success. When you first arrived I had my doubts. And now Uroboros is complete."
Wesker slowly gets up from the sofa they are sitting upon. "I guess, your position at Tricell is secured."
Excella follows his example, letting her fingers off his upper arm to start an attempt to embrace him instead.
"Oh … I have set my eyes on something much bigger", she says lowly and cheekily lets her hand run down his flat abdomen towards his crotch. "Don't you think, you'll be needing a partner, who is worth more than this little piece of trash you're bedding right now? We both know that she's nothing but a plaything to you. I've proved myself worthy, haven't I?"
Wesker has to prevent a smirk taking over his facial features.
This woman has quite a fantasy.
Although he has to admit that it is kind of admirable, he can sense that she's on a much lower level than he is. And than his 'plaything' is.
"Perhaps you have", he lies and gently takes her chin in his gloved hand before pushing it away haughtily.
Jill interrupts their conversation by bursting into the room.
"The BSAA are here", she announces.
"It appears your old friend Chris Redfield has come to pay a visit. Do I sense concern?", Excella asks with fake pity.
"The plan is in its final stages, I will not tolerate delays", he answers cold, masking these unwanted emotions of insecurity and indecision that briefly take over him.
There never seems to be a project without Chris Redfield's hands interfering.
Excella ambles over to the sofa and picks up her briefcase, carrying several syringes of the virus and then takes a leave together with Jill to greet their new guests.
As elegant as ever Excella ambles down the long corridor towards the Monarch Room, where Chris and Sheva will probably enter any minute.
Almost as silent as a tiger Jill is walking behind her, covered in her cloak and bird mask.
"Jill", Excella says. "I want you to stay hidden until our two friends arrive. Attack them as soon as I tell you to do so. And always make sure they never see you, comprendre?"
"Yes", is all Jill answers, but Excella knows that this little bird is more reliable than Wesker's whore.
She can't wait for the day to finally get rid of her. To be rid of them all.
When the large room comes in sight Jill dutifully hides behind a pillar, while Excella, swaying her hips, walks to the center of it.
The whole area is built with grey stone and two stairways, one on the left handed and one on the right handed wall, are leading up to a balcony, that surrounds almost all of the room.
Light falls through several small windows, but the stone surface isn't saving any of its warmth.
All they seem to radiate into the air is coldness.
Excella briefly rubs over her upper arms to warm herself a bit up.
The dress made of nothing isn't a good option to stay warm. But it turns the men's heads.
When the door opens not five minutes later and two people with raised handguns are entering, she can't help but to give a little, mocking applause.
"Bravo!"
"Damn it, where is Jill!", Chris shouts.
If that isn't our guest of honor, Excella thinks amused.
"Hmm, Jill … maybe I tell you, maybe I won't", she teases and then almost unnoticed snaps her fingers once and with that Jill knows, it's time for her to enter the field.
Inhumanly fast she comes out from her cover and dashes towards the two intruders.
She somersaults into the air, dodging a shot Sheva fires out of her handgun and then sends the heel of her boots right into Chris' stomach muscles.
Gasping for air he stumbles backwards and instinctively Sheva puts her arms on his shoulders to steady him.
After regaining his balance Chris finds it's time to react himself.
He starts firing. But without success.
The cloaked figure does several flips backwards, making sure that her cloak is on tight and moving like that she remains pretty much invincible to their attacks.
Eventually one of Chris' bullets is able to graze a small area of her mask and with a heavy tin sound it shatters to the ground. Momentarily the fight has found a pause.
Jill, startled to have been hit, still immediately pulls the hood of her cloak as far over her face as she can, only revealing her lips and jawline to the intruders.
Wesker has told her to never reveal herself when on duty for him.
And she follows her master's orders without fail.
"Stop playing around! We want some answers!", Chris shouts.
"You haven't changed."
The dark voice coming out of nowhere surprises him and when Chris' gaze wanders to the top of the left hand staircase he can see him.
"Wesker, you are alive!"
"This is Wesker?", Sheva says, a questioning look on her face.
"We last met at the Spencer Estate, wasn't it? Well, if that isn't one big family reunion.", Wesker calmly says, while casually descending the stairs before him. "I would expect you to be happier to see us."
"Us?", Chris says, never taking his aim off Wesker.
A feeling of unease deep inside of him, prepares him for the expected.
"So slow to catch on", Wesker answers and then shoves the hood of Jill's cloak off her head, revealing Chris' old partner.
Jill looks down to the floor, deep inside wishing she could go back into hiding, but the drug is making her feel like being steered by the strings of a puppeteer.
She throws a hostile look towards the intruders.
"Jill! Jill, it's me Chris!", he begs and takes a step towards her.
What the hell has Wesker done to her?
"What? Are you sure that's her?" Sheva is finding herself to be more and more confused.
Suddenly everything is going so fast.
"The one and only", Wesker answers Sheva's question.
With this incredible speed again Jill throws off her cloak to reveal her tight, dark purple battle suit and without being able to do anything against it, she attacks them once more.
After Chris has been tackled to the ground, she kicks Sheva's wrist and then takes her head into a tense lock with her upper thighs to throw her on the hard floor as well.
The fall knocks all air out of Sheva's lungs and she can't decide what hurts more at this very moment – her wrist or her back.
But Chris relies on her and therefore she gets up as fast as she allows herself without the danger of suddenly feeling dizzy.
A cough comes out of her burnt throat and she sets her aim back on Jill's figure, who does admittedly impressive acrobatics to escape her handgun fire.
As soon as Chris is standing on his feet again Jill is at him once more, grabbing for his throat.
There's something evil flashing over her face, almost like she's enjoying the torture she's putting her old partner through.
Distracted with him, Sheva finally manages to push the point of her gun against Jill's head, leaving them in a checkmate.
Unfortunately she hasn't calculated Wesker in this fight anymore and when the blow reaches her, she's almost too surprised to even feel any pain at all.
This time the fall on the rough stone surface rips the skin on her elbows open and she believes to have sprained at least one finger. But she prevents from showing her pain to their enemies.
"And now let's finish this once and for all", Wesker throws his opinion into the mess, Jill standing in front of him, never letting her pale blue eyes off them.
"I think the odds are fair, two on two. Right, Jill?"
Sheva suddenly understands how serious the hatred between Wesker and Chris seem to be and accepts the fact that this is going to be more than just a fight between life and death.
It's a fight about unpaid debts.
And she's sure to stay steady by his side.
When Wesker returns he's in a bad mood. She can sense it.
The past three hours she has laid in bed, endlessly stroking over her momentarily flat belly, musing about what to do about their little surprise.
"What's the matter?", she asks his fuming presence.
"Chris Redfield! That's my problem!"
Now curiosity takes over her. With effort she raises from bed, noticing how weak she's feeling.
"Let me guess … he's infiltrating the area?"
"He just doesn't know when to stay out of my business. Self-righteous idiot", he bawls and punches the palm of his hand against the stone wall, causing several little pieces of rock to trickle to the ground.
"It's no surprise to me", she admits unimpressed by his outbreak. "You can't expect to stay hidden in the shadows with a project as big as that. Sooner or later those anti-terroristic units would've sniffed out your game anyway."
He throws a deadly look into her direction and she momentarily believes to shrink under its glowing power.
"Stop smart-mouthing, Nebraska! You know nothing!", he snaps angrily and steps outside.
She knows she's playing with matches right now, but today she's not afraid of burning herself.
Other problems are towering above her head like massive storm clouds, which leaves Wesker's project, Chris Redfield and the BSAA definitely being the least concerns on her mind.
She wonders, if he's able to detect the anxiety inside of her body, maybe even the child.
He probably can, at least their viruses make them aware of almost every emotion the other is going through.
But since he's not showing any sign of care, it approves her once more that he wouldn't bother about an heir at the slightest.
It has always been his plans that are most important to him.
He wants to show the world, who their true god is by selecting, who is worthy of living and who isn't.
It's sickening her that even she gets to experience his urge to dominate, when he makes her willing to sleep with him whenever he pleases.
With a sudden clarity she understands, who she is as a person or how she feels means nothing to him.
Certainly she wouldn't describe herself as an innocent or a victim.
At least she never refused to join the little game he's playing with her.
But she has always appreciated each and every emotion he has given her, if not even deemed them precious and savored them in their unison.
Maybe she even loves him with the undeniable awareness to never receive anything similar in return.
She asks herself, if it's even worth struggling with him through this time, to drain herself from even more energy just to keep him pleased.
Now that she's aware of the child growing inside of her, it should be time to draw the line and put him in front of a two-way street, letting him decide what his future will look like.
Will it be with or without her?
But she's too weak to fight back and still too amazed of the electricity between them to ever dare to say such things out loud.
"What are you planning to do now?"
She has joined him outside on the balcony, where he broods over the stone railing, throwing deadly glares to the whispering trees below, as if they are the ones to be blamed.
"I hope for Miss Valentine to take care of that, Miss Jones", he answers cold, putting special sarcastic pronunciation on her last name.
The urge to slap him awakes with a tingle in the palm of her hands.
"Don't talk to me this way", she says with aroused ire. "It's not my fault they are on your tail!"
"My tail? You are in this as much as I am. We can't afford any delays."
"And who pulled me into this?", she hisses. "Seriously, Wesker … why can you only act decent, when your damn dick is inside of me?"
"Watch your tongue", Wesker answers in a strained voice.
"Why? Am I too less of value to speak my mind? For the first time I'm seeing clearer than ever before. I'm done with this shit. Excella and all your other lapdogs can see, where you're gonna be at without me."
"You don't know, what you're talking about. You're mine, Nebraska. And you will do as I tell you. There's no way out of this."
His cat-like eyes are burning right into her own with their intensity before he continues.
"I am in possession of you … just as much as you are possessing me. And I need you by my side. I let Chris deal with Jill … "
"Jill is definitely gone then?", she asks and in answer Wesker only slightly shrugs his shoulders.
'Who cares' this gesture should say. But she detects some else in it. Something she can't define.
Something that she doesn't like.
Once more unpleasant thoughts of them together enters her mind.
Why have you always locked the door behind the two of you, Wesker?
Why have you not killed her off after the final stage of Uroboros was reached?
Why do you keep her close to you?
Was she about to burn you, the match getting too hot in your fingers?
"Letting Chris deal with Jill is one of the bitterest pills I could give him to swallow", he says, noticing that aura of suspicion Nebraska seems to radiate. "And Excella won't be of great use anymore soon either."
"And what is it that you want me to do?", she says stiffly, but the sound of Excella's name has raised her curiosity.
"I want you to infect her. Tonight."
"What?", she asks completely taken by surprise.
"We both know that her blood is not worthy of Uroboros. It will bring destruction to her body and free hand over the finishing phase of the project for us."
She has to admit that she's slightly impressed by his cunning.
It proves her again that she should never underestimate the man that is standing in front of her right now.
Suddenly she feels like a child with a bad temper.
"And how do you expect me to do that?"
"I'm sure, you'll find a way. At least it wouldn't be the first time, where you dare to face her."
He briefly shows her a smirk and she can't help but to softly laugh herself.
Her smile disappears though as he lays his hand on her cheek, a sudden serious look on his face.
"Excuse my sudden outbreak before. What's the matter with you recently?"
He seems to be scanning every single one of her emotions and she turns her gaze down to escape the threatening question in his eyes.
"What do you mean?", she asks as lightly as possible. "I'd rather ask you the same in return."
"There's something going on with you. I can't put my finger on what it is … but there's definitely something different about you."
At first she's taken aback by his question.
It looks like he might be able to detect her affection for him, but not of what is hiding in the depth of her mind.
"Stress", she quickly says. "I'm not used to a life like this. I'm afraid destroying the planet's population has never been part of my daily business before." Her tone has grown lightly sarcastic. "Why don't we just leave it to that?"
She tries to shake his devilish persistence off, but as a result he firmly grabs for her shoulders.
"You know very well that we won't."
"There are more important problems, aren't there?"
"You are important to me."
The sound of his words is distracted though, almost like a question.
"Liar", she answers quietly and tries hard to not break out in tears and just confess it all to him as he pulls her protectively close to him and she believes to feel the heartbeat of the child pumping between their bodies.
It scares her and suddenly she wishes to do nothing but lie down, have his arms around her and drown in a deep, dreamless sleep just to escape reality for a few hours.
But he seems to have different plans.
She can feel his hands sneaking their way up over the curve of her shoulders to slowly shove down the thin straps of the dress she's wearing.
Despite the fact she's usually turned on the second he lays hand on her, she can't help but to feel like she's not taken serious.
Once again she's becoming his puppet.
She gasps in surprise as he slightly goes to his knees to wrap his arms around her legs just below her behind to pick her up and carry her inside.
Spreading her legs apart he throws her on top of their bed.
"Well, if you don't want to talk."
Immediately he lets his wonderfully experienced and yet gruesomely manipulative mouth wander right along the sensitive skin on the inside of her thighs.
When he has found her spot she can't help but to dig her fingers in the tamed strands of his hair as the tricks he plays send her unwanted into purest ecstasy.
Goosebumps crawl over her skin like a little army of needles and she believes to faint for a second.
Her breath enters and exits deeply, fighting for control as she tries to tell him to stop.
He takes care of her throat, her breasts, her ribcage and her lungs stop working anxiously, when his lips linger on top of her stomach, caressing it with gentle kisses.
There's no stirring in his emotions and she's sure that he still isn't aware of it - that he can't be aware of it and never will be aware of it. This is what brings her back.
"Stop", she begs him. "Stop, please."
For a moment the power he has over her seems to shrink and she believes to have won.
Exhausted her head drops sideways and an emotion of release takes over her.
She doesn't dare to look him into the eye.
She can still feel his comfortable warmth between the apex of her thighs and it's hard to not just give it in.
But when he pins her down, his hips digging into hers, his hands enfolding her fragile wrists, she can't help but to let her armor drop.
"Let me take care of you", he coaxes right into her ear and the dark din of his voice destroys the last bit of stubbornness inside of her.
She doesn't know how they ended up here again, but she finds that they probably both need it.
"Okay", she whispers in return.
It's not her voice anymore. It seems to be one of a stranger.
It's also not her fingers anymore, who undo the zipper of his jacket, not her palms following the lines of hard muscles on his upper body, not her hands palpating what's growing further below.
It shouldn't come across as alien to her anymore – it's the virus.
It relaxes her muscles and with gentle hands Wesker takes off the light fabric that is covering her curves.
Her exposed skin grows even warmer, when it gets in touch with his and she realizes once more how much her body is aching for his – even now.
Suddenly the thoughts she had about leaving him before seem nothing like a mad fantasy.
Her breath returns to deepening its draws and faint exits, when he starts caressing every single inch of her he can get in a teasing way so she is almost begging for his possession.
When his face is on height with hers again, his weight presses the small of her back hard into the mattress and a tense excitement spreads through the muscles in her lower body, uniting its strength right between her thighs.
It's an intense yet lustful pain that makes her part her lips in awe.
"Why do you always do that?", she asks quietly.
"Shh, I thought we agreed on not to talk", he silences her softly and leans in to kiss her.
She can taste herself on his lips and tongue and to her disbelief his way of letting her experience her own wetness, sends her into a state of purest arousal.
She can feel him hard on top of her and she badly wants him to sink deep inside of her at an agonizingly slow pace.
She wants to feel every single inch, every single bit of his thickness claiming to rule over her.
After he has repositioned her thighs around his hips to make her feel more comfortable he finally spreads her delightfully slow, inching his way inwards and entering her only halfway several times before all of his length disappears inside of her.
She softly moans in unison with him, when he carefully sends himself inside of her – over and over until her fingers start their discovery along the surface of his perfect upper body in answer to the pleasure he causes inside of her.
At some point she sharply intakes air, when he gets rougher.
She knows that he tries to be gentle with her, but still there's so much suppressed anger against Chris Redfield inside of him that he can't keep it up.
Still he manages to make her come and she closes her eyes and snakes her arms around his neck as he buries his face right under her ear and caresses her with tender kisses as if to say sorry and for a moment they are on their own island, their own dream, away from all this destruction surrounding them.
She never wants to wake up from it again.
But not ten minutes after he has brought her to the top reality takes over rather quick.
"Get up, Nebraska. We have to leave. Now."
"What? Where to?", she asks drowsily, her head placed on his chest. "I'm just getting comfortable."
"The docks."
There it is. The only reason why he just dedicated himself to her.
It was for nothing else to pull her onto his side again.
"The docks?"
The change of her mood from being incredibly drained to terribly confused is almost funny if it wasn't for the seriousness in Wesker's voice.
It's not his usual dark tone though. It's something she has never heard before and it scares her deeply.
He seems to notice that and after he has thrown her black cloak over her shoulders he places a comforting kiss on her forehead.
"You are the strangest person I have ever met, Wesker", she says after that and briefly has the time to shoot a concerned look at him before her face disappears behind a wolf tin mask.
The docks are usually quiet at this time of the night and if it weren't for the serious situation ahead of them, Nebraska would have felt at peace right here.
She's next to Wesker, not daring to take his hand into hers though and stares at the beautiful dark water that is being split into lighter areas by the moon shining onto its surface.
The waves are whispering their never ending song into the still, warm summer air and she inhales deeply to get a taste of it, while they are walking down a long wooden platform that leads towards their destination.
A massive ship.
Together they step on board of it and Nebraska takes a look around.
It is covered with what seems like hundreds of containers, piled on one another towards the infinity of the dark night sky, forming a maze like path between them that you could easily get lost into.
In the distance she can suddenly hear the war calls of the infected people of the area.
It sends a shiver down her spine and this time she really has to resist the urge to grab for Wesker.
Instead she inches a little bit closer to him so that her upper arm is almost touching his.
Experiencing what she has done to these people makes her heart ache and a feeling of regret comes up inside of her, but she can't follow these thoughts much longer.
"Nebraska, listen carefully." Wesker.
Slowly she turns her hidden face towards his, still not able to shake off these thoughts in her mind.
"As far as I know Excella has brought several samples on board of this ship. I need you to find her."
"How? The area is huge."
"Use your senses and focus. Never forget that you're not as underdeveloped as you may think. When you're done, meet me up in the commando center."
Wesker enfolds his hand with hers for a moment and when he lets go a syringe has been put into her palm.
Blandly she stares at it and swallows hard, when a knot of fear threatens to take over her throat.
She doesn't need to read the label with the Chemical description to know what it is.
"Tell her I send my regards", he says quietly and lets his gloved thumb run over her revealed jawline.
When she finds him, he is just done with finishing his threat towards Chris and Sheva.
She has to admit that it is quite impressive how long they have been able to keep up the fight until now.
But somehow her senses tell her that it is a mistake playing such a game for too long with a man like Wesker.
Inexplicably to her, she feels sorry for them and wishes they would just leave them alone.
Getting Wesker's attention is becoming more and more difficult anyway and the further they get in their journey, the more they destroy what Wesker has built, the more he will slide out of her fingers like melting wax.
Even now, when she looks in his eyes, he momentarily doesn't seem to recognize, who she is.
But that only lasts less than a second. A smile shows at the corner of his mouth.
"Good work."
Nebraska rips the wolf mask off her face. "I can't say that it was much of a challenge."
"I didn't expect that."
"What's the status?"
It's unbelievable how not an hour ago they had the most intimate sex just to end up speaking in the most formal ways, Nebraska thinks slightly amused.
"See for yourself", Wesker says and turns around to look out of the large window in front of them.
From it she gets a view over all of the ship. Or at least what used to be recognizable as a ship.
Now it's entangled in a massive black mass.
It's like the fear of a gigantic kraken has become reality.
Nebraska can't help to briefly show a cruel smile at the corner of her rosy mouth.
She feels bad about having infected the inhabitants of this village, but definitely there's not a bit of regret about shooting the fluid inside the little Italian slut's neck.
She still remembers the intense smell of perfume permeating the skin of her neck.
How lovely it was, when she gasped. It felt good being bad for once.
"She's pretty, isn't she? Too bad her wonderful dress and shoes got a few sizes to small", Nebraska jokes and throws a side look to Wesker, who reacts with a brief smirk.
She knows that his mind is wandering again.
"What now?", she asks warily and steps closer to him.
"Honestly? I want you to go, Nebraska."
"No", she urges fiercely and grabs for his strong under arm. "I'm not leaving you. We will finish this together. Like you said."
"No. This is not your battle anymore", he says, admitting to have made a mistake.
"Your safety means too much to me to pull you into this. It can't be granted anymore."
"But I'm safe with you, aren't I? You have always protected me."
Briefly she seems to have touched something deep in his core, but in his usual manner he won't give in. She could also try to move mountains with her mind.
"No, it's not right. I want you to go. It's not safe anymore."
A shiver like a single gust of a powerful storm runs through her body and she finds herself grabbing for his upper arms.
"Don't say that", she whispers, trying to suppress the rising panic.
She inhales sadly and presses herself against his tall stature.
"Please, Wesker … please don't make me leave you. Not now. Not at this stage of the project."
She can see it on his face, the strong internal fight her virus causes inside of him.
Her hands run over his chest and she stands on tiptoes to get closer to his height.
She knows that he won't give in to her pleading and therefore she says the only thing, she can think of.
"Kiss me at least, Wesker. Kiss me one last time."
Almost instantly he digs his fingertips at the nape of her neck and pushes her head towards his.
Their lips meet with equal hunger and she has to hold in a sound of desperation, when she realizes that this could be the last touch she receives from him.
At least the pessimist inside of her makes her believe that.
There's so much she can read in this one single touch and that tense excitement whenever he kisses her flutters through her stomach like the gentle wings of a thousand butterflies.
Her tongue gets in touch with his only for a short moment and then he parts it already.
She knows that he doesn't want it to turn into something more.
She can still feel their union from before deliciously burning inside her groin.
"Don't worry, I will return to you, my lady. And when I do, it will be in a new age. And you'll be by my side."
She scans his stern face for traces of reassurance and yet she doesn't find the ability to say out loud, what she truly feels for him.
And that she carries his child.
How she wishes to take his hand and place it on top of her stomach and without any words, he would understand, what she's trying to tell him.
Softly he strokes over her cheek.
"Whatever our destiny might be, there's something you need to know."
"What?", she answers faintly as he bends down once more, closing the distance between them to whisper the continuation of his sentence into her lips.
Never has she been so aware of her heart pounding in her chest, of her virus boiling inside her blood and of the fact that she's almost able to see the answer in his eyes.
"I –", is all he gets to say before a massive rumble shakes through the ship, almost throwing them to the ground.
Immediately they are both back in reality.
The creature that used to be Excella has reached unbelievable height and there's almost no part of the ship that isn't entangled in her black tentacles.
Nebraska curses out loud. Out of frustration, out of anger that even dead Excella still manages to destroy one of their most intimate moments.
Was he really just about to say those three words?
Of course his focus on the situation before is gone and she understands once more that his project means more to him than she does. Always will. It has poisoned his mind.
"Take this with you, just in case", he says in conclusion and hands her his combat knife. "Remember how to use it?"
Nebraska shows him a sad half-smile. "Jill has pretty much beaten it into my mind. Literally."
"As soon as you are out of this door, run. And don't stop until you're off this ship."
Her numb feet painfully drag her towards the exit. Never has it hurt so much to leave him.
The virus inside of her is ripping her heart into pieces and all she manages to say to him is:
"I'll be waiting for you, Wesker."
And then she runs.