AN: This chapter will have a bit of swearing in it.

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They were in the middle of nowhere, and that scared her. All she could see were trees in every direction. Even the road they were now driving down wasn't a path that was used anytime recently. To say the least, the ride was quite bumpy. Just when she thought the flight back to the states was bad, being cooped up in a car with Albert Wesker was unnerving. He had his own private plane waiting for him, so she had absolutely no idea where she was, only that she was in Nevada. They had been driving for at least five hours, and they hardly exchanged a word or two.

"I can't take it anymore, I need to have a conversation," Claire sighed, adjusting her seatbelt.

"Very well, Miss Redfield," Wesker said, keeping his eyes forward. "What would you like to talk about?"

That single sentence was the most he said to her since she decided to step inside this crazy adventure. She didn't want to talk about her condition, and she didn't want to start a fight with Wesker... at least not yet. She knew that her body was changing rapidly, but she didn't have enough confidence in her body to make her believe she could even scratch Wesker. It had only been about a day, and she missed Chris terribly. She knew that her decision to go with Wesker was selfish, but she couldn't allow Becca and Billy to suffer; she had to give them a chance. Her current situation was hanging by a very thin thread of hope. She wasn't even sure that Wesker would keep his word about curing her. She glanced over to him feeling the depression beginning to wallow.

If she lived through this, and she met up with her brother, he was going to be pissed. And Leon... she had never seen Leon look that way before. He had looked so helpless, like a lost boy. He was reaching for her, but she didn't reach back. Looking back at the moment, she wished she had more time to say something else to Leon, but all she could offer was an apology. This was a battle that she had to fight alone. There was more than enough negative thoughts running through her head; she needed a change.

"Where did you learn to dance?" she asked him.

There was a twitch at the corner of his mouth. Clearly, he was expecting a different topic of conversation. Well, that's how she was going to play this game. She was going to keep throwing him curve balls. "Believe it or not, but I learned ballroom from my parents."

Claire leaned her head back on the headrest, feeling thrown for a loop. She had thought of Wesker as a monster for so long, she didn't even consider his past, let alone the fact that he was once human. It was so hard to imagine that he started out just like everybody else. "I can only imagine what they were like."

"I suppose the best way for you to understand my childhood is to think back on your acquaintance with Sherry Birkin," Wesker said in a monotone voice.

"Sherry?"

"Parents were never home, and the only things they taught were ambition and not to trust a soul. I believe William Birkin wasn't the best father figure in the eyes of a family oriented mind," Wesker explained.

Wesker was being quite chatty, and that raised a red flag for Claire. She had to be careful where she treaded or else she might give him information that he shouldn't be hearing. "Sherry turned out to be a very sweet girl," Claire countered.

"Children out of those types of homes develop into one of two characters, Miss Redfield. One type will develop into the shy, yet bright mind, and the other..."

"The other?"

Wesker took his eyes off the road for the first time and stared at her for a few seconds. "The other type you've learned to hate, Miss Redfield."

She had the urge to slap him just then, but she stopped herself. Lately, she had been more aggressive than usual. She had succumb to the desire of violence, and she regretted attacking Chris they way she did. Never in a million years did she want to hurt her own flesh and blood. Perhaps, the virus was making her more susceptible to aggression. It was a common trait in all the animals and infected she had come across. Man... basically, she'd be a pissed off female tyrant that was constantly PMSing. "Fan-freakin-tastic."

Then Wesker did something that utterly freaked her out. He reached out and tucked some of her hair behind her ear then returned to manning the steering wheel. "I suppose I could elaborate on what was injected into your body. I truly don't believe you will transform into something grotesque. You'll still be beautiful, but the virus will likely alter some of your physical traits."

She ignored the compliment, but she had to turn away in embarrassment. No one had ever called her beautiful in such seriousness before. Sure, Leon had thrown out compliments here and there for her, but he was always teasing her. "What changed for you?" she asked. "Besides the red eyes."

"How old do you believe I am, dear heart?" Wesker asked.

Claire thought about that for a moment. Chris had told her that Captain Wesker was an elite officer nearing his forties, but that didn't seem possible. "I would say... thirty?" she guessed, knowing her answer was wrong. The man before her was physically fit, toned, and strong. In the eyes of an ignorant female, it could probably be said that Wesker had the perfect body. And there wasn't a scar or scratch anywhere on his face.

"A compliment for a compliment, Miss Redfield," was all he said. "The virus seemed to have altered my body back to its physical prime, so I am quite curious to see what it will do for you."

"And if something goes wrong? Will you just let me suffer and die?" Claire asked.

Wesker stayed silent for the remainder of the trip. So much for a elongated conversation, but the exchange was welcome. In the last ten minutes, she probably had the most normal conversation with him than anyone he spoke to. Another half hour had passed by before Wesker turned into a wide rocky driveway.

"No way," Claire breathed, her eyes were gaping at the large mansion they had pulled up to. "No fucking way..." It was a mansion. Somehow, Wesker had managed to build an exact replica of the Spencer mansion that Chris and the other STARS were trapped in. It was only through research of newspaper articles and real estate homework that Claire was finally able to get a picture of the gigantic trap her brother had stepped into all those years before.

"Not to worry, Miss Redfield," Wesker said, putting the car into park. "There aren't nearly as many surprises in the mansion that we've had to deal with, but I will advise that you do not take the creatures inside lightly." He exited the car, and ascended the small stone steps up to the large double doors of the front entrance.

Claire felt unrelenting fear course through her. Who knew what was behind those doors. She tried to think back to Chris' stories, trying to map out the general blueprints in her head. According to Chris, there was supposed to be a dining hall to the left, a grand staircase in the middle, and...

Wesker opened the doors, and she was greeted with something entirely unexpected. They both walked into a large red lobby, but there was hardly anything inside. There was a single door to the left, and three doors to her right. A simple chandelier hung high above them and it was it was the only thing in the entire room that provided light. There were no windows, no form of décor, and Claire heard her heels click loudly against the mock marble tiles she walked on. "Love what you did with the place," she commented. "So now that I'm here, you'll release Rebecca and Billy?"

Wesker held up his index finger, and was beginning to hate that gesture. "I said once you are completely mine. Now if you would like to rest first before your first test, please enter the door to your left. If you would like to try and save your comrades, you can go through the first of the three doors to your right."

Claire wasn't going to waste anymore time bullshitting with him. If Becca was here, she was going to get her out. Chambers had improved her combat skills over time, but harming others simply was not in her nature. The younger girl relied heavily on her team when it came to seek and destroy, and she was the brains of the group. There was no telling how well Becca was coping. Claire tied her hair up, and shrugged off her jacket. "Do I at least get a gun?"

Surprisingly, Wesker tossed her his Glock 45 and the tac light attachment to it. "Seeing as though you do want to participate in the first test, I will mention that there is a time limit."

"Lovely..."

"The trick is, Miss Redfield, that the limit is set by you," Wesker said enigmatically.

"And what the hell does that mean?"

But Wesker only gestured toward the first door. "The test will start as soon as you enter."

Claire roughly tossed her jacket to Wesker. "Asshole..." she muttered. She didn't bother looking at his reaction. Keeping the Glock firmly in her grip, she attached the tac light and slowly opened the first door. With her thumb, she flicked the light on, keeping her aim chest high. She had entered into a small poorly lit hallway, but the texture of the walls had changed to sleek metal sheets. The temperature dropped significantly, and in the corners of the walls, she could see frost forming. It was sickeningly quiet. Claire took one soft step at a time, trying her best not to disturb the monsters she knew lurked in inside. She kept to her left side, hugging the wall, occasionally looking upward and behind her.

Something suddenly smacked into her side, tossing her into the right wall. When she gathered her footing, she aimed the light where she had been moments before. A giant indentation had been created from whatever ran into the wall from the opposite side. She wasn't looking forward to finding out what it was. She bolted for the door at the far end of the hallway, nearly slipping on the icy floor. Then she heard them. High pitch ape-like screeches filled her ears echoed through the air vents above her. They came down in front of her, crashing through the ceiling. One pounced on her, trying to scratch at her face. She landed hard on her back, but she held onto the Glock.

Eliminators always came in packs, so she had to act quickly. She could hear the others approaching her, their claws were dragging on the floor, making her ears ring. Nails on a chalkboard were a more welcome sound at the moment. She managed to push the Eliminator far enough from her body to slip her knee in between then, and then she kicked with all of her strength. The infected ape was sent flying down the hallway, and the others went in to attack.

In a flash, she was on her feet, her heart was beating rapidly. Being confined in such a small space was causing her to feel claustrophobic, and fighting for her life wasn't helping. Another Eliminator jumped on her back and bit down on her shoulder. She felt every single tooth tearing at her skin, and her blood ran cold as it trickled down her chest. She let out a pained cry, but she grabbed a chunk of its fur, clawing into its skin and pulled. Lowering her center of gravity, she threw the Eliminator over her shoulder, and fired one shot into its head.

Another came charging at her, and then it happened again. Time looked as though it was slowing down, just as it had when she caught the cup Chris had thrown at her. She was going to use everything to her advantage, so there was no use in being awe-struck. Within three steps, she reached the Eliminator. She turned on the ball of her left foot and delivered a powerful spinning kick to the ape's head, feeling the bone crush to pieces from the impact of her heel.

The last Eliminator jumped on her again, but this time she rolled backward using the momentum of the attack. Now she was on top of the Eliminator, and when it opened its gaping mouth , she stuck the Glock inside and fired one more shot.

Then all was quiet again.

Claire rolled onto her back, allowing air back into her lungs. She took several deep breaths, and wiped the sweat from her face. "Shit..." Well, she knew for a fact that she could still feel adrenaline. She rolled over once more, and tried to stand, but she began to feel lightheaded. The pain in the shoulder had decreased, and when she glanced over to see the wound, it had stopped bleeding. 'Guess that's a perk,' she thought. With the first step she took, she almost fell down again. All of a sudden, she just felt drained, like her energy was being depleted, sucked away by an unknown force.

She slowly continued down the hallway, and made it to the first door. When she opened it, a bright light nearly blinded her. Wesker was sitting on a lush chair, apparently waiting for her. A large fireplace held blazing yellow and orange fire, and there were several couches and paintings that decorated the room. Above the fireplace she saw a mantel that held a Western Custom M37.

"So do I get an A?" she asked sarcastically, leaning most of her weight on the door frame. She grabbed at her shoulder, feeling a burning sensation when she touched the exposed skin. The Eliminator had ripped right through her shirt, and it took a moment for it to register that only half her shirt was still on her. Her vision blurred, and she fell to her knees. When she blinked to clear her vision, Wesker was by her side. The last thing she remembered was him carrying her in his arms, cradling her as though she were something that was precious to him.