Chapter 21: Endgame
The small study sat in a secluded glow of two lamps, one near the far door, the other behind the silent aristocrat at the desk. A book was left open and forgotten in front of him as his sharp and clever eyes, contrasting on such a weathered face, stared into a terrarium on the desk just beside him.
He was in awe of the creature inside, but his unblinking admiration would be a losing staring contest as it, too, watched him, and it would never, ever blink.
Two strong, even knocks came from the door that connected to the east staircase, heard over the nearby gramophone playing Mozart. Lord Ozwell E. Spencer was pulled from his deep thoughts, his attention shifting to the door. Patrick paused while organizing some books on a shelf, curiously looking to the door.
His devoted servant took one look at him through small-framed spectacles and understood. Spencer hadn't been expecting anyone. For a moment, the Lord considered if it was his other servants coming from his personal study, where he ordered them to clean, organize, and pack for the trip tomorrow. The east wing study was just upstairs from it and was another room he frequented when not in his own study or sleeping in his private quarters within the estate.
"Who could that be, I wonder?" Patrick asked, sitting the books aside to answer the door. He was a tall, thin man in his mid-forties, having served Spencer since he was a teenager. Patrick's family had served the Spencer family for generations, and to him, Patrick was the most devoted of all, one of the few he trusted in his inner circle.
Spencer didn't say anything, leaning back, waiting, wondering who it could be at this hour. Alex had arrived in the city not long ago, but he doubted it was her. He picked up his steaming teacup and took a sip, his eyes peeking into the tank where he smiled at the unmoving, silent creature. It did not smile back. The maw remained a firm line, concealing a dangerous mouth.
Patrick bowed after answering the door. "Oh, Colonel Sergei, good evening! I wasn't expecting you."
"Forgive my intrusion, Patrick. May I see my Lord? It is important."
Ah. Sergei. Of course. It made perfect sense now.
"It's alright, Patrick. Let him in," Spencer allowed.
"Of course, my Lord!"
Patrick opened the door all the way for Sergei. The tall Russian ducked just enough to get through the doorway, his men remaining outside. Patrick went to the gramophone and turned the volume down. Spencer distracted himself with his delightful specimen in the glass tank as Sergei presented himself in front of his desk.
The Colonel bowed. "My Lord!"
Despite his wretched appearance, Spencer was far from ignorant, far from oblivious. His eyes and ears may have dulled with age, but his mind was still sharp. Sharper than Sergei's large knife he often played with or had strapped under his coat, the same knife he'd seen gut and slice many an unfortunate bastard. He knew exactly why his most loyal dog was here…
"Patrick, can you go check on my dinner? The Colonel and I need a word."
"Certainly, my Lord."
Patrick bowed and excused himself, exiting through the second door into the red hallway and heading towards the main hall. Sergei did a quick observation of the study as the Umbrella founder sipped his tea, pushing the book aside. Reptiles and Amphibians of the United States joined another book on the desk, The Botany Book. There was a chessboard at another table, leftover from a game between him and Patrick. Besides that and a few bookshelves, the Colonel didn't seem to find interest in anything.
"Have you come to express more 'worries', Sergei?" Spencer asked curiously with a hint of cynicism.
He was referring to the topic of their meeting last week. Sergei had disclosed his concerns over Albert Wesker's behavior and handling of the research breach suspected by Melvin Crawford. Not to mention the possibility of him allowing a witness to live. He didn't impart all the details of the situation, just enough to get his concerns across.
It was far from the first time the Colonel had come to him regarding Albert. He certainly had it out for his prized asset. Spencer was indeed impressed with Sergei's intuition and diligence to keep Umbrella safe and in power. His loyalty was certainly second to none, but he just didn't understand…he was bereft of the whole picture, a canvas that Spencer himself had painted.
"You can say that," Sergei finally stated. "I've just put Ms. Wong in detention."
"So I've heard. Care to explain?"
"I am unraveling a conspiracy, my Lord. And I have reason to believe that comrade Wesker is pulling the strings. Ms. Wong is in on it."
Spencer sighed and shifted his attention back to the terrarium, the camouflaged body nearly invisible in the foliage until it slowly moved. It didn't move slowly like he did, from weakness and age. It moved slowly for stealth, for precision. "Are you certain of it this time?"
Sergei expertly refrained his annoyance. "I have always been certain, my Lord. I am only trying to procure the evidence you require to finally prove it."
Spencer narrowed his eyes. "I do not doubt you, Sergei. You mistake my insouciance for skepticism. I am not ignorant. There are several of my…employees running affairs behind my back, and I have no doubt that Albert is the worst."
"Then why do you turn a blind eye to him above all others?" Sergei asked. "Why give a dangerous dog such a long leash?"
The Umbrella founder was quiet for a moment, watching the scales coil in the terrarium. Sleek, hard scales shaped like diamonds. Nothing like his thin, withered skin that bruised so easily.
Sometimes the lord wondered if it would be better to pull Sergei into his inner circle, to reveal to him the truth of Albert Wesker and why he gave him such a "long leash" over all his other dogs. Perhaps one day he would…but not today. Today, his most loyal dog wouldn't understand.
"Because, as it stands, he is still crucial to this company. His usefulness and value still outweighs his misconduct and deceit, and until there's proof to vitiate that, my outlook on the matter will not change. Should you find out what you need in this 'conspiracy', then we will talk."
"I understand, my Lord. He's obviously important to you, and I know he is Ms. Alex's brother. I'm only protecting you and Umbrella. It is my purpose. Forgive me for speaking so boldly, but comrade Wesker, Ms. Alex, Ms. Wong, and Dr. Birkin…they are all snakes. The sooner you cut their heads off, the better."
Spencer smirked. "Snakes you say?" He beckoned his loyal commander closer. "The thing about snakes, Sergei, is they come in all shapes and sizes, and some are more dangerous than others. However, if you know how to handle them, if you know how to charm them, and make them dance for you, they are far more useful with their heads."
Albert and Alex were many things, but ultimately, they were his finest creations. Even Alexander had tried to copy his genius with his own experiment, with his own unknown motives, birthing modified clones of his ancestor Veronica, something only a small handful of people knew about. Alexia had shown such great promise, but she ended in failure. Alfred was the last of the Ashfords now, and nothing but a weak tool. Albert and Alex far surpassed them, far surpassed other humans. They were a big step towards an advanced human race.
It's a shame I was never able to breed them.
But Sergei wasn't wrong. Of the many things they were, snakes were one of them. The deadliest kind. Kindred to the snake that deceived Eve in the Garden of Eden…
He popped the lid off the terrarium now that Sergei was closer. He peered into the container and saw the dark green serpent only after it opened its mouth wide and hissed, appearing like it was yawning, but it was a warning. Shiny, long fangs were exposed, ready to inject lethal venom.
"She's an Arklay Tree Adder. Fascinating serpents!" Spencer boasted. "They are only native to this region and average just over a meter in length. They have a venomous bite almost as potent as a Western Diamondback Rattlesnake and birth live young. These adders get their name because they mostly live in the dense trees of the Arklay mountains. It's not uncommon for them to fall on hikers. Their population is so dense around here that we have to keep plenty of serum in stock. This female was caught just before winter set in after getting trapped in one of the storage sheds in the courtyard."
Sergei curled his scarred lip at the puffing serpent. "Why keep such a creature? She will only kill you eventually."
The same could've been said about Albert and Alex…
Spencer pulled out a snake hook and a refrigerated aluminum case from the desk. He entered the code to the case and opened it. Inside was an immunity shot, designed to strengthen the host in preparation for the Tyrant Virus, specifically the Epsilon strain still in development, still being perfected. The adder would receive two of these before the virus was administered in a few months…after all, the only way they would truly perfect it was through experimentation.
This was something he had planned on executing before leaving in the morning, but decided Sergei could benefit from watching. With twinkling, evil eyes, he took the hook and poked the adder. She struck, puffing, hissing. Spencer pinned the serpent's broad head with the hook and then injected her.
The adder spat and convulsed after he withdrew the hook, twisting and rolling around in the terrarium.
"For evolution," Spencer whispered as he locked the lid back in place. He smiled up at Sergei. "Soon, I won't need an instrument to control her. The T-Virus will do that for me."
Soon, he wouldn't need a leash held together by a few remaining threads to control Albert. The Prototype Virus would do that for him. And more.
He could only imagine what the virus would do to evolve such an amazing creature! He would have to wait and see it firsthand.
"Each snake will have its use with the right type of control. You'll see, Sergei."
The Colonel wasn't at all convinced but reluctantly dipped his head in deference.
Ms. Wong was a snake, but wasn't a threat…yet. Any double-dealings she did she returned tenfold for him. Dr. Birkin was the concerning serpent, a wildcard. He was far too valuable an asset to Spencer as well, just like Albert and Alex.
Spencer frowned as the tree adder ceased to move in the terrarium, recalling his recent encounter with William Birkin. William was a special case. Spencer had bred him for the same eugenics program as Albert and Alex. He inherited the superior intellect, in fact, he was undoubtedly the most intelligent asset of the experiment. However, he didn't inherit the desired physique and characteristics they were striving for. Despite being pulled from Project W as a child, Spencer knew Birkin would be far more useful elsewhere, and right he was.
The problem with William stemmed from his attachment to Albert. They had been around each other since childhood, ever since Spencer had convinced Marcus to take them in as his next protégés. Marcus's old student, Brandon Bailey, had been residing in Africa for years. That eventually worked in his favor when he used Albert and William to dispose of Marcus to take over his research. An easy fix to an old rival. Just as with Edward. Edward's son Alexander and Alexia took care of themselves. That only left Brandon to be dealt with and that in itself would be difficult. He was a clever, cautious man, and well, there was still much left to be done in Africa. That was for another time…
No matter how much Spencer tried to coax or warn William that Albert was only using him, he wouldn't budge. William may have been a genius, quite dangerous in his own way, exceptionally ambitious in his field, but he could also be a coward, most notably when Albert wasn't around. Interestingly enough, without Albert, he tended to be more unpredictable. Spencer could only deduce that Albert was William's security blanket.
All his years breeding champion show horses in his boyhood, one term came to the lord's mind. Buddy sour.
Buddy sour horses were difficult and problematic - in some cases dangerous. Measures would have to be taken once Albert was under his control. If William didn't accept one of his offers out of devotion to Albert, there would be punishment instead…retraining. Spencer could feel it in his old bones…with Albert out of the picture, William could likely turn into an intractable problem…a threat.
Just as Sergei answered a beeping alert on his PDA, the adder sprung back to life, quiescent for only a minute at most. She curled into a tight ball within the foliage, rapidly flicking her tongue, agitated. Spencer watched the Colonel closely, taking in how his brows furrowed, how his usual calm, cold eyes flashed in what could only be surprise.
"Something the matter, Sergei?" Spencer asked, steepling his fingers on the desk.
The Colonel pocketed the device, instantly reverting to his dutiful stance, now paired with resolution. "It is time to expose this conspiracy and everyone involved in it…no matter who they may be."
The Umbrella founder shrugged, taking another drink of his tea. "Do what you must, Sergei. Just remember…even if you cut the head off of a snake, and you think you've won, it can still bite…it can still win."
Sergei slowly nodded, bowed, and then turned to leave. He barely made it to the door before Spencer called his name.
"The girl that Albert's supposedly let live…what's her name?"
Sergei hesitated, obviously pondering Spencer's sudden curiosity. "Claire Redfield."
Spencer was convinced he was holding back more information, possibly waiting to expose the conspiracy. He barely nodded, thinking…plotting. "If you manage to successfully uncover this 'conspiracy' and she's still alive, I want her brought to me."
"As you wish, my Lord."
It wasn't long after Sergei left that Patrick returned with a couple servants and a cart full of covered food. They served him a meal and Spencer ate while watching the snake once more, reflecting. It looked unfazed right now…but over time it would change, no…evolve. Just as he too would. Just as his prized creation would.
"All is well with the Colonel, I hope?" Patrick asked as he cleaned up Spencer's dishes.
The lord gave an amused half-smile. "Just an extension of our last conversation, Patrick. Sergei is obsessed with proving to me of Albert's treachery. The fool doesn't understand how much more we know over him. His blind loyalty will be his downfall. He's convinced that Albert is pulling the strings in a conspiracy with the research breach. I have no doubt he is right."
Either way, it didn't matter. Albert had outwitted and outperformed them over the years, even him, his own creator. Just as it should be. Spencer had grossly underestimated his prized asset. Albert had calculated his steps from a teenager, and, over the years, strategically put himself in a position where he was nearly untouchable by the company. Spencer was greatly impressed, despite the fact he now had so little control over his own creation. The rest of the executive board as well as his inner circle didn't share his admiration. Bailey implored him multiple times to dismantle Project W since it had been at a screeching halt for decades and put Albert down before it was too late. Even kidnapping children from around the world from parents with superior genetics hadn't worked out for the project in the last two decades.
Just a little more time…the Prototype Virus will work…then you all will see…
"Forgive my frankness, my Lord, but I cannot help but share Colonel Sergei's concerns." He didn't elaborate, and didn't need to. Patrick glanced at the leftover chess game nearby, where the black king remained standing and the white king knocked over. "I fear…I fear he may one day kill you, my Lord."
Spencer sighed, leaning back in his chair, tapping the glass of the terrarium and admiring the adder as she opened her mouth wide in warning again, ready for a lethal strike.
"I'll tell you a little secret of mine, my dear Patrick. If I am unable to achieve my rightful godhood, then it is likely that time will end me. However...I often dream of Albert killing me. What a suitable and ironic death for one god to be killed by another, one that he created. It would be…divine."
Patrick slowly nodded, frowning.
Spencer fantasized about that death more than he should, probably. Even though Alex's research on Sonido de Tortuga island would eventually rejuvenate his youth and turn him into a god.
Such a glorious death by his own creation would remain but a fantasy for now. He still had much to prove to the world…to her…
I'll show you, Miranda…I'll show you…
Wesker has agreed to meet up and make a deal to get the girl. Disclosed is the address. Come immediately. Stephen will be waiting around back. - A.R.
Sergei scowled at the message for the final time before pocketing the PDA as his men drove him into town. The black Suburban housed him and three of his best, most trusted men. The faint rumble of the engine was a relaxing lullaby when combined with the soft swishing of the windshield wipers clearing snow.
The Colonel had assessed the situation at every angle possible, preparing for anything. Their destination was a safehouse in the northwestern suburbs. It was the one Chief Brian Irons had provided for Aaron Roth and Stephan Bennett to handle their business dealings while in town. He wasn't at all surprised it was where the information broker chose to store away Claire Redfield.
Despite the restlessness to get there and finally trap Albert Wesker where he wanted him, he remained calm and focused. Although, he wasn't as focused as he would've preferred. Ever since they departed the mansion, his mind kept recalling his meeting with Lord Spencer.
Sharp, curved steel glinted under passing street lights as he withdrew his large, double-bladed knife from his coat, holding the hilt firmly as he rubbed along the clean, angled blades with a broad thumb.
He wasn't one to question his master. He was entirely loyal and dedicated to Lord Spencer and Umbrella. He would die defending them. His last meeting, however, left him with many burning questions. He was frustrated both with the lack of answers and with himself.
Why was comrade Wesker so important to Lord Spencer? It wasn't because of Alex being his sister, at least that's what they averred her to be. The Colonel had stumbled upon "other sources" that alluded something else was amiss with that.
Sergei was honestly stumped. Lord Spencer trusted him. He valued his counsel and expertise, allowing him nearly free reign to handle any concern or threat on his radar…except when it came to Albert Wesker.
And now his Lord was suddenly interested in Claire Redfield? Why would he want to meet the witness face-to-face and not dispose of her immediately? It was quite out of character for Lord Spencer to take interest in such things. It wasn't as though he'd told him the extent of her relationship with Wesker, just as he hadn't divulged much concerning the conspiracy. Sergei was waiting to present it all to Lord Spencer in the flesh, so he could finally see that he was right all along.
"We're here, Colonel."
He shook away his thoughts. Instead, he reevaluated his plan with a deep breath. This is it. His fingers clenched harder around the hilt of his knife as he stared at his reflection in the blade. One grey eye, a scarred face, a mane of silver hair. The knife was his sword, and he, the king's knight. And the knight always prevailed over the dragon. It didn't matter how big the dragon was, how much fire it spewed. It always went down with one determined, precise blow.
"Remember what we discussed," Sergei announced gruffly. "Alive only. I don't care if he kills you in the process. Alive means alive. Once comrade Wesker is secured we can neutralize Mr. Roth and Mr. Bennett."
"Yes sir," they said in unison.
They got out of the vehicle with silenced weapons loaded, his men dressed in black. They prowled through the darkness and spiraling flurries, deftly sneaking around to the back entrance of the house. The neighborhood was silent except for a biting wind. No cars drove by. No dogs barked. Most inhabitants were inside their homes this hour, celebrating Christmas Eve.
The Colonel would soon be celebrating a different kind of eve - the eve of Albert Wesker's downfall.
Bennett quietly emerged from an unattached garage, a thick coat hanging over his shoulders, with only the left sleeve on, thanks to his cast. The impaired businessman glared their way as he stomped through the snow.
"It's about time!" he hissed just above a whisper. "They've been in there for awhile! I can't tell what they're talking about, but who cares?! Get that fucking bastard!"
Sergei snatched the smaller man by the shirt and picked him up to his level. "I'm the one giving orders around here, Mr. Bennett. I strongly advise you shut that trap of yours if you want our agreement to persist."
"Yes!" he gasped. "Understood!"
Sergei dropped him and cued his men. Two left to sneak around to the front door while Sergei remained with the third. It didn't take long for them to whisper over their earpieces that they were in position.
"Stay behind us, Mr. Bennett. Do not get in my way."
"Fine by me!"
On three, his men burst through the doors. Sergei followed his soldier through the utility room and down the hallway, passing a bedroom and bathroom into the open floor of the living room and kitchen area.
His men that had entered through the front door had their guns trained on sitting figures in the living room. Aaron Roth stayed still, calm, his hands half-raised.
Sergei couldn't help his smirk as he noticed the other, and squeezed the hilt of his knife in elation. Albert Wesker sat opposite Roth, leaning back on the sofa, one ankle propped on his knee, one arm resting on the top cushion. He didn't move, calmly looking between them with those infuriating sunglasses in place.
Victory. Sweet victory. The Colonel leered smugly at his long-time adversary, the dragon, the wolf, the devil in disguise, and he swelled with pride. For Lord Spencer. For Umbrella!
"At long last," Sergei announced, the words saturating the room, seasoned with his vindication. "My patience has finally paid off. I knew one day you would slip up. I knew one day I would have you cornered. Catching you red-handed is the icing on the cake. How does it feel to have your own plans turned against you, comrade?"
Wesker remained expressionless, and didn't even react. He wasn't fazed by the guns aimed at him. He wasn't even fazed by his presence.
Sergei glared Wesker down, annoyed by his nerve. His long leash was about to be truncated to a short chain and muzzle, and yet he didn't look even mildly bothered by the situation he was in.
Something isn't right.
He fought the feeling, suppressed the gut instinct even though he knew better. This was supposed to turn out right. This was supposed to be his victory.
"Well?" Bennett snapped beside him. "Cat got your tongue, you smug son of a bitch?"
Wesker answered with a slow, arrogant smirk, the same one Sergei despised, the same one he wished to wipe from existence.
He casually gestured to Roth, but other than that he remained seated, remained comfortable.
"It's good to see you, Colonel. Roth and I were just talking about you."
Something lurched in his gut and he subconsciously squeezed the hilt of his knife, as though Wesker's hubristic tone had drawn first blood. His eye narrowed, but Sergei didn't relinquish his dignity. He was still the knight. He was still the justice of his Lord's world order.
"Is that right?"
Roth slowly stood and carried a manilla folder full of papers to Sergei. Wesker's smirk remained, the light in the living room gleaming off his dark shades.
"I found some interesting information I think you ought to scan over, comrade," Wesker stated as sharp as Sergei's blade. "After all, it concerns you, and I don't think Lord Spencer would take it so well."
Sergei curled his scarred lip. What on earth could he be talking about? Trickery. Sabotage. Manipulation. That is the way this wolf worked.
He snatched the folder from the information broker's hands and opened it. He scanned through the documents. The more he read, the more he flipped through, the angrier he grew, barely containing it as it boiled beneath his skin. His fingers crinkled the edges from squeezing so hard.
"It doesn't bode well for you, does it, Colonel?" Wesker sneered. "These are serious transgressions against Umbrella. I wonder how Lord Spencer would react to such a scandal from you of all people?"
None of it was true. Yet…everything looked legitimate…factual…verifiable. These files contained everything Wesker needed to destroy him, setting him up to be the one behind the research breach. But most importantly…siphoning information from T-ALOS to Dr. Christine Henry of Umbrella Europe…through Roth. Why wouldn't Lord Spencer believe it? Sergei was head of the T-ALOS project, after all. A privilege his Lord bestowed upon him for giving his clones to Umbrella for the new T-103 series.
Sergei glared at Roth. The one thing he hadn't expected the wily information broker to do, and he had done just that. Roth feared Wesker, avoided him at all costs, and was willing to make a deal to stop him so he no longer had to cower. Sergei had him under his thumb for this reason…yet he only ended up defecting to his fear instead. How? Why?
The Redfield girl wasn't here, he knew that now. She had much more to do with this than he previously thought.
Sergei restrained himself. He was livid underneath. He had no way to prove it, but he was certain that Wesker was able to thwart his operation because of just those two small, seemingly insignificant details.
Despite the sordid blackmail he held in his hands though, the Colonel couldn't help but be thoroughly impressed. Comrade Wesker truly was his ultimate adversary.
Sighing, he gestured to his men to lower their weapons. Bennett grunted beside him, turning to him in disbelief. "What're you doing?!"
Sergei shoved the folder back into Roth's hands just as Wesker stood, his smirk more profound now as he moved next to his new business partner.
"Conditions?" the Colonel growled. He had no choice if he wanted to remain at Lord Spencer's side, if he wanted to continue protecting Umbrella.
"I knew you would handle this correctly," Wesker said, pleased. "A loyal dog to the very end. My conditions are simple. Leave me Roth and Bennett and release Ada Wong. I will give you full credit for stopping the research breach. You get to be the hero, Colonel."
"What?! Colonel, he can't be serious? We outnumber him, we have guns, we-"
"Silence," he snapped at Bennett. The broken-armed businessman was now looking a little ill. Sergei glowered at Wesker. "That cannot possibly be all."
Wesker chuckled. "You know me so well, Colonel. We understand each other, don't we?" His smirk soon fell. "You are to leave Claire Redfield and her brother alone. No surveillance, no interaction, no contact. Leave her be. As far as you're concerned, I disposed of her."
Despite his anger, Sergei found that quite interesting. Wesker had never gone out of his way to protect anyone who wasn't Birkin, reinforcing his suspicion that Claire Redfield was more important than he initially thought. "...Fine."
"Oh, and one last thing," Wesker sneered. "Your soldiers who actualized your break-in of her home…I want you to kill them. I know who they are, thanks to Roth."
Sergei ground his teeth, slowly nodding. He held out his hand, eyes unmoving from Wesker. His nearest soldier handed him his silenced 9mm. How easy it would be to shoot the devil in front of him. But that was not the way to win this. There would be another time, a time that would reward him immensely for his patience and perseverance against such a nemesis.
And so the Colonel shot two of his men dead, the one beside him and another across the room. His remaining soldier didn't react.
"What the fucking fuck?!" Bennett screeched.
Sergei tossed the gun aside, cuing his last soldier. He nodded and left through the front door.
"I applaud you, comrade," Sergei said through gritted teeth. "Impressive as always, but this does nothing but slow me down. This was a battle you won - a mere skirmish. I will win the war. One day you will screw up and have no escape…and I will be there to finally slice that smirk off your face personally."
"Looking forward to it, Sergei," Wesker replied as he passed by them to follow his soldier out the front door. "Good work on stopping the research breach, by the way. Lord Spencer will be so proud."
He let the taunt roll over him. There will be another chance. Bennett panicked, following after him.
"Wait! We had a deal! You can't just leave me here!"
"Consider our deal null and void, Mr. Bennett. It is out of my hands now. Honestly though, I would've disposed of you in the end, regardless. Now you're at the mercy of comrade Wesker and your old partner. Good luck…you will need it."
Sergei stepped over the body of one of his most trusted men. An unfortunate repercussion. It was hard to find loyal, competent soldiers that followed his direct orders without error. It was time, perhaps, that he started looking into something more reliable, more resilient than a human soldier.
This was a big setback for him, but at least he could still protect Lord Spencer and Umbrella. Soon, he would succeed at bringing down his biggest adversary. This served to reinforce how truly dangerous Albert Wesker was. There was no way to predict his incessant machinations. His Lordship just didn't realize what a dangerous dog he had on this long leash. Give a dog enough leash and he had room to turn on his master, but this one wasn't like the others that would bite Lord Spencer's hand. No, this dog would go straight for his throat.
I will protect you, my Lord. I will protect Umbrella…even if it kills me.
Wesker would remember this day. He successfully dismantled the Colonel's plans and turned them against him. Nothing was more satisfying than demolishing that conceited grin from his face. Sergei would remember this day just as well. The Colonel's pride and confidence indisputably took a blow this round.
The only way it would have been more satisfying was if it had been Spencer…but that day would come soon enough.
Watching his dear adversary leave with his head lowered and tail tucked, seething beneath wounded dignity, was the highlight of his night. Bonus was the way the feculent cretin at his side followed him in alarm, beseeching the Colonel to keep his "promise". He'd never much cared for the holiday, but Wesker thought, for the first time, he might have been seeing what the Christmas season was all about.
Sergei stepped impassively over his dead soldier and left the safehouse. Bennett squeezed his hair with his free hand, uttering a pained, perturbed groan. He paused when stepping in the blood seeping from the body. He quickly scooped up the nearby handgun, whirling around and aiming at Wesker and Roth.
Roth aimed his own weapon. Wesker didn't even flinch. The scum in front of him was as predictable as they came.
"If he won't do it, I will!"
"Come on, Steph. We both know you're a shit shot with your left hand," Roth entreated. "Let's settle this like men. Wesker has a proposition for you if you'll just listen."
"Are you kidding me?! I'm not about to trust him! And what about you, Aaron?! You stabbed me in the fucking back!"
"You stabbed me first," Roth snapped. "Didn't you?"
Wesker shook his head with a chuckle. "No honor among thieves, isn't that right? If you two are done quarreling like children, perhaps we can settle this in a more lucrative way."
"Something tells me I'll be getting the short end of the stick," Bennett retorted, keeping the gun on Wesker.
"If you believe you will benefit by shooting me, then do so," Wesker goaded with a dismissive shrug. "But I assure you, it won't turn out the way you think it will."
A red dot appeared on Bennet's head, then two more on his chest. Two mercenaries emerged from the back rooms to stand on either side of Wesker and Roth. A third was kneeled on the staircase on the other side of the living room.
Already clammy and rattled, Bennett's face went ghost white. He dropped the gun like it was red-hot and held up his hand. It was so damn pathetic that Wesker was both amused and disgusted. A rat under his boot rated higher to him.
"Do you honestly think I would come here without thorough preparation? You truly have no understanding of who you are up against," he scoffed. "I'm leagues above you, Bennett. You are a mere insect in my world. I own this city, as the Colonel was just properly reminded. Now is a good time to start promoting your worth to me."
"Okay, okay!" Bennett instantly submitted. Truly so predictable. "I have money! So much money! Name your price! You want dirty secrets? I got them! I can tell you anything about Sheena Island and its inhabitants. T-There's this guy, fast rising in r-rank, Vincent Goldman, he-"
"Money is of no concern to me, and I have a dog right here that can fetch me any information I so desire. Try again."
"Shit! Godammit!" Bennett fell to his knees. "P-Please! I'll do anything! Just don't kill me!"
"Hmm," Wesker pretended to think it over, rubbing his chin as he sauntered over to his prey. "Anything you say? Now there's some enthusiasm."
Bennett was the same kind of man as Roth, willing to do anything to keep wasting oxygen. The only difference was Roth was actually useful.
Standing before the broken man, Wesker sighed and motioned for him to get up. Bennett flinched and obeyed.
"I'll tell you what, I am feeling generous tonight. Must be this ridiculous holiday spirit. I will not kill you, Bennett. I have the perfect job for you."
Bennett almost fainted from relief, exhaling a shaky breath he had been holding in tight.
"Under one condition, of course."
"Yes, sure! What is it?"
"You must give Ms. Redfield a sincere apology in person."
He was surprised for a moment, as though Wesker had given him the easiest condition in the world. "You got it, absolutely!"
"Good." He smiled bitterly and presented his left hand.
Bennett's relief washed away seeing Wesker's hand awaiting his for a handshake, as though there was a venomous snake in mid-air poised to strike. With his right arm broken, Bennett didn't want to risk the other.
"I said I wouldn't kill you, and I will not hurt you in a way that prevents you from being useful to me. Make your decision."
Bennett took a deep breath and reached for the snake masquerading as a hand. The snake bit hard too, sinking in fangs. In the blink of an eye, Wesker broke Bennett's hand.
His prey cried out, yanking his broken hand into his chest. "What the fuck?! You just said-"
"Don't fret. You won't need your hands." Wesker nodded to his men. "Take him to NEST. I won't be long. And call Irons. Inform him he has a mess to clean up."
"Yes sir," the three mercenaries said as they contained Bennett, taping his mouth shut, and hauling him out of the safehouse. Bennett's muffled pleas cut off once the door shut behind them.
"Something tells me you have quite the 'job' lined out for him and have had it in mind for a while," Roth admitted. He was quiet for a moment, contemplating, looking over Sergei's dead soldier near his feet. "It's because of what he did to Ms. Redfield…isn't it?"
Wesker curled his lip and faced his informant. "Your ex-partner will suffer for the rest of his miserable existence. He is of no use to me other than a little…demonstration."
"Were you really going to throw Dr. Henry under the bus if Sergei didn't fall for it? She's the best contact I have. Besides, she would've retaliated. She's not someone to cross…"
"Sergei's weakness is his pride, his loyalty to Umbrella and Spencer. I knew he would not take the risk. He fights strategically. He will attempt retaliation on me in due time."
"What about the T-ALOS information I'm supposed to give her?"
Wesker shrugged. "Give it. Tell her it's a gift from me. Of all your contacts, I am most thrilled to make Dr. Henry's acquaintance."
"I'll let her know. I'm sure the feeling will be mutual."
"Incidentally," Wesker withdrew a folded piece of paper from his blazer. "I have your first task. And lucky you! It's local. This is a personal request. Consider it a test of trust. Do not disappoint me." He held the piece of paper out to the information broker, secured between two fingers. Roth hesitated before taking it, unfurling it to examine it. "I want everything you can secure on him."
Roth furrowed his brows. "Who's this? Looks like a nobody civilian. What purpose could he possibly serve you?"
"Well, that is the point of your job, is it not?"
Roth slipped the paper into the inside pocket of his coat. "Piece of cake. You got it. I'll get it to you tomorrow."
"Good." Wesker checked his watch. The evening was growing late. "I suggest you collect your possessions and depart before the cleanup crew arrives." He headed for the door, stepping over a dead soldier and lazily raising his hand up in a goodbye gesture. "Do mind your step."
It was nice to forget for a while. About her situation, about where she was exactly, whether or not Chris was worried about her, whether or not Albert would ever come back. After Alex and William left to the back room, Claire and Sherry played a few card games.
They chatted and laughed while playing Crazy Eights. Sherry relished the companionship and attention, and so Claire tuned everything else out to give that to her, as well as give herself some relief.
"Daddy and Uncle Albert like to play Spite and Malice," Sherry said while drawing some cards. "So much that I know how to play! They also play poker a lot but only with other people. Oh! I watched them play Uno once! Daddy played a Draw Four card on Uncle Albert and he flung a lamp at him!"
Claire smiled, imagining it. She and Chris would always get worked up playing Uno.
She glanced over to the door, wondering what William and Alex were talking about. They had been in there for a while now. Something told her that Alex's arrival had little to do with Christmas. If she truly was superior to everyone down here, including Wesker, that meant she worked for Umbrella, too…but what did she do for them, exactly?
"Claire? It's your turn."
"Oh, sorry, sweetie. I was just picturing Albert throwing that lamp at William. You know, me and my brother Chris used to play Uno all the time. Once we were playing with some close family friends of ours, the Burtons, and well, Chris and our friend Barry got so into it that they started a food fight. There were chips and dip everywhere, my brother even blew some outta his nose!"
"Gross," Sherry giggled, but it didn't last long as the laboratory door opened, catching their attention, quickly followed by clacking flats. Annette appeared. She held out her hand, hurriedly waving her fingers for Sherry to come and take it.
"Come on, Sherry. Time to leave. Let's go to my office." She was bothered by something.
"But I wanna stay with Claire!"
"Say goodbye. Let's go. Now."
Sherry sighed, putting her cards down. She hugged Claire. "Bye, Claire."
Claire returned the hug. "Hey, I'm not gonna say bye, okay? I'll see you again soon."
That seemed to brighten the young girl considerably, although she was still disappointed and reluctantly took her mother's hand. Annette yanked her towards the door in a hurry.
Claire got up and followed them. "Hey, is everything alright?"
"Oh, everything's just fine," Annette answered sarcastically. "Your 'lover' is just bringing some company that I'd rather not have my daughter around, do you mind? No worries, you'll be back in Albert's arms shortly."
The younger Redfield stopped, glaring at Annette's back. She bit back a few choice words, only because she didn't want to upset Sherry any further. They left through the electronic door without another word, Sherry giving her one last sad smile over her shoulder before the door cut them off.
The USS soldiers on each side of the door didn't move or speak, and she couldn't even read their reaction because of the gas masks covering their faces. She took a better look now that she was closer to them. Their uniforms had armor, and they carried some serious firepower. The red "eyes" of the masks stared blankly at her.
Slowly backing away from them, Claire turned around and went back to the lounge, annoyed by Annette. She could only imagine what company she could be talking about, but was that even necessary?
That's when the door opened again. Claire sighed, thinking it was Annette and Sherry returning, and got up to meet them, only to stop in her tracks as three mercenaries dragged a familiar, beaten man into the lab. They hauled him straight to her, Claire's brows arching high as they practically dropped him at her feet.
Bennett stared at her, eyes wide and puffy, looking a lot worse for wear from the last time she had seen him. His mouth was taped shut now, and, glancing him over, she quickly realized his left hand was mangled and swollen.
One mercenary ripped the tape from Bennett's mouth. "Ack!"
Okay…looking Bennett and his condition over, Annette's reaction was warranted.
Alex and William soon joined her. Claire had mixed feelings seeing the asshole on his knees, broken, before her. Part of her enjoyed it immensely. He deserved it, but a tiny part of her still felt guilty for feeling that way.
"What do we have here?" Alex inquired, tapping her chin with one fingernail, red lips slightly quirking in delight.
"That's Stephen Bennett, a filthy rat that works with Aaron Roth," William enlightened in disgust. "Why the hell did you bring him here?"
"Dr. Birkin, sir! Dr. Wesker told us to bring him here."
"For what reason?"
The mercenary pointed at her. Claire, shocked and confused, stared at his finger. Yep, it was definitely pointing at her.
"Me?" But why?!
"I brought him here to apologize to you."
Claire's heart skipped. She didn't even hear the door open. Albert appeared, stalking around his men and stopping next to Bennett, patting his head like he was a faithful dog, but his attention was entirely on her.
That toxic air surrounding him had expanded now, a potent power high that equally enraptured her and filled her lungs with poison.
"Why Albert, you're quite the romantic when you want to be. Surely flowers would have sufficed?" Alex joked.
Wesker smiled, pulling off his sunglasses and beholding his sister. "My dearest Claire is far above such trivial offerings. And what about you, dear sister? What a surprise. You usually winter in the Caribbean. How is Sonido de Tortuga, by the way?"
Was she above such things? Claire was certain flowers would've been better than a man on his knees, beaten half to death, before her. Then again, this man had caused her much distress…Besides that, she wasn't sure how she felt about Wesker being more open with their current relationship - as though it was no longer temporary, as though he was certain she was his forever…
"Marvelous, darling! You really should come visit soon! Better than this dreary town. No snow, no bitter cold, no awful traffic or crowds. Just crystal blue water and sunny beaches. Oh, and my own state-of-the-art research facility, naturally!"
Wesker softly chuckled. "Naturally. We do need to catch up, but first, let me conclude a little business here. Bennett, you made a promise. Now apologize to Ms. Redfield."
"I don't want his apology!" Claire glared at the scum on his knees.
"Of course you don't, dear heart," Wesker said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. So then why did you bring him here? "But you do want him to be sorry, don't you?"
She looked at him, a strange, disturbing churn rolling in her gut, fleetingly confused before realization hit her.
"Well, Bennett?" Wesker prodded.
He nodded obediently, fearfully. "I-I'm so sorry!"
Claire glared at the pathetic man. How many other women had this creep hurt – could still hurt – who couldn't defend themselves like she could? Bennett deserved to be where he was…he deserved what was coming.
"Do you believe him?"
She knew what would happen if she answered him truthfully. She hesitated, conflicted with her own morality. Looking Wesker in the eyes, they were intense. He was fishing for a certain reaction from her, hoping to distort her very rectitude she struggled with.
Claire swallowed, glaring at her captor/lover. "No, I don't."
He smirked, delighted by her answer. "Of course you don't, my dear."
Wesker's men snatched up Bennett. He weakly struggled against their hold. "You're fucking crazy! I said I was sorry!"
The mercenaries battered Bennett in front of her until Wesker quietly raised his hand.
"Again."
He spat out blood, whimpering. "Fuck…I'm sorry."
Claire clenched her fist at his meaningless apology, decking him across the face so hard it knocked him to the floor. "Now you're fucking sorry, you piece of shit."
Wesker stepped between them, his men grabbing up Bennett. "Take him to the infirmary and get him treated," he ordered them, his eyes not leaving Claire.
"Yes, sir!"
Claire glared around her lover as they hauled him away, a maelstrom of awful feelings thrashing within her as she thought about what he and the others had done, what they could've done, but Albert brushed his fingers under her chin and made her look at him. His other hand took hers, the one that had punched Bennett across the face. Ouch! She must've hit him harder than she thought.
It was almost like the world outside of them didn't exist in that moment as she stared up at him. The feelings between them buzzed, so intense she felt high right now, and it wasn't just the adrenaline. Her skin felt hotter, but with a chill, and despite the guilt that tried to creep up, she for once stomped it out. No, she didn't feel guilty for what she just did to that bastard. And she sure as hell no longer felt guilty wanting the man in front of her, as wrong as it was.
"Every person who broke into your home is either dead or under my control," Wesker informed, his voice low, but not quite a whisper. "Sergei's men are dead. Roth is now my puppet, and Bennett? Well, he will never see the sun again. He will suffer dearly before death is his mercy."
The hair on her arms and neck stood on end, the chill running through her a strange mix of relief, lust, and unease. But there was something else even more intense, she just couldn't figure out what it was exactly.
"And Sergei?" she whispered.
He shrugged, a ghost of a smile appearing briefly as he stroked her throat. "Taken care of. You don't have to worry about him any longer."
She thought he would kiss her, felt him lean in, but then - "Sergei?! What the hell happened out there?!"
Claire's head spun. Oh, right…William…Alex. They were here, too.
Wesker pulled away, first inspecting her hand as the knuckles started to bruise, making sure it wasn't broken. Only then did he face his partner and sister without leaving her side.
She felt the same unnatural tension between them from earlier. William looked more upset now than before Wesker had left. And although the corrupt STARS Captain was stone-faced, there was an unmistakable edge to his movements, to his voice.
"Sergei showed his hand, attempting to use Roth and Bennett to ensnare us. I had to constrain him."
William splayed his hands, his initial look of shock twisting into frustration. "And you didn't think to tell me about this?!"
Alex's lips upturned into a sly smile. Her blue eyes darted back and forth between her brother and his best friend, as though she was watching a gripping TV drama.
"Maybe if you wouldn't compartmentalize every single fucking thing, I could've been warned!"
Wesker sighed, "William -"
"Oh what, didn't think I could handle it? Is that it?"
William sounded hurt. Claire, uncomfortable, stayed quiet, not enjoying this like Alex seemed to be. She was amused by the tense exchange, only missing a bag of popcorn for the show.
"Apparently, I didn't," Wesker growled.
Claire still didn't understand why Albert went behind William's back like he did. As methodical as he was, there had to be a purpose, she just couldn't see it. Now it seemed like he was being cruel just to be cruel.
"Bullshit, Al."
"Clever," Wesker snarked. "You are allowing your emotions to get the better of you, William."
"Reaaaaaaally? Allowing Roth to live and not warning me about Sergei? I think I have the right to be a little upset!"
"Goodness me, boys!" Alex finally butted in, smirking in amusement. "Are you two going to get a divorce? What's this world coming to?"
In spite of Alex's levity, Claire braced for it to get worse. Surprisingly, however, she successfully diverted the two from their conflict.
William gnashed his jaw, looking down, away, running his fingers through his hair. Wesker was more composed, though Claire could feel his frustration. There was also something else she couldn't quite put her finger on - as though he was conflicted.
Her captor/lover shook his head, dismissing it all. "I need you to take Claire home, William."
The look his partner gave him was straight "are you serious". "No! Why can't you drive your happy ass to her house and drop her off? Oh, that's right! You need me to keep up this charade that she's babysitting for me to hide the fact that you're fucking her. You think her brother would 'let his emotions get the better of him' if he found out? God, I can only imagine!"
Wow, he's really upset…
Wesker stepped forward. Claire wasn't sure what he intended, but instinct took over and she snatched his arm to stop him. She wasn't sure if it had worked, his head slightly tilting her way, before Alex moved between both men with that same amused smile.
"Let me handle this, darling," she cooed to her brother before facing William. "Will, honey, I am only in town for tonight. You know I do not get to spend much time with Albert. Please do this for me? Go home, get some rest, spend time with Annie and Sherry, okay?"
William melted at her touch, the fight leaving him as he slowly nodded. It was a strange sight, the effect Alex clearly had over him.
Will cleared his throat, heading for the exit, avoiding Wesker. "Come on, Claire. Let's get you home…where you belong."
It was probably the gentlest, most empathetic thing he had ever said to her, under that defeated tone, but it still hurt her for what it was. He was right. She didn't belong here – she didn't belong with the man next to her. She quickly let go of his arm once realizing she still had a tight hold on him.
A quick glance at Alex and she met twinkling, mischievous eyes, but also the eyes of another devil. Just like the one she was in bed with.
"Go on, dear heart. Go home," her lover said just above a whisper.
Part of her braced for him to add "where you belong" like William had, knowing it would hurt a hell of a lot more coming from him.
But it never came…
Claire finally looked him in the eye, building up courage. "Are we…done?"
Was this it between them? The whole situation with Sergei and Roth was now settled. He didn't need her anymore…right? He promised she would be off the hook after it was over.
He didn't blink, didn't skip a beat. "No. Not yet. Some…final touches are in order, but you do not have to worry about any retaliation or final jobs for me. Just go home. To your brother."
Claire slowly nodded. Home. Chris! She met up with William at the door, glancing over her shoulder at Albert one last time, but Alex had already drawn away his attention.
The silence was incredibly awkward between her and William as she accompanied him through NEST. Claire zoned out into her own thoughts, feeling conflicted once more. All of the researchers bypassing them, the voice on the intercom, the thrum of scientific machinery, all of it was static to her.
"I'm sorry."
She was jarred out of her thoughts, looking at him in surprise.
As upset and drained as he was, William offered her an apologetic smile that held a little gleam of his usual charm. She assumed he was apologizing for how he treated her back there, and shrugged.
"It's alright."
"Albert's never going to be done with you, Claire. You might as well get that through your head."
A tiny, desperate part of herself, a speck, buried deep inside shuddered…the last remaining piece of her that wanted everything to go back to normal, the piece she hopelessly clung to.
Her grip was slipping…
Though there were four people inside the car, no one made a peep. The BMW made its way to Claire's house from NEST through snow and last minute holiday traffic. William and Annette bickered from NEST all the way to the car where they fell silent. Poor Sherry must've felt her parents' stress, her eyes fixed on her lap where her fingers played with the tattered edges of her old sketchbook.
Claire fidgeted next to her in the backseat, staring out the window and shuffling through every single day of the past two weeks. She didn't want to believe William, didn't want to believe her own intuition, but there was no denying the writing on the wall. She just refused to read it.
"We're here," William announced.
The younger Redfield broke from her thoughts, not even noticing that William had pulled into the driveway behind Chris's truck. She glanced over at Sherry, then to the girl's quiet parents up front. William slumped over the steering wheel while Annette had her chin propped on her hand, gazing out the passenger window.
"Appreciate it," Claire mumbled, and grabbed the handle. Then she remembered. "Oh! Could you wait a minute? I have something for Sherry."
William barely nodded. Claire smiled at Sherry, who brightened with curiosity, before she got out of the car. As she trudged for the house, another car door opened behind her. She turned, not expecting to see Annette follow her to the porch.
"Claire, hold on…I-" she trailed off. "I'm sorry for what I said, I just…"
Claire was surprised by her apology, but after what happened with Bennett, she completely understood her reaction. The display with Bennett, she realized, had all been because of her. "It's alright. I'm sorry, too. I understand why you felt that way…I didn't know Wesker was going to do that."
Although still taut, Sherry's mother was a little relieved. "He did that to make a point," she admitted. "With you, with Bennett, with all of us."
That gave her a chill far colder than the winter wind blowing between them.
"William won't talk to me. What happened down there?"
Claire shifted, unsure how to answer. She didn't quite know herself. It appeared Wesker went behind William's back, betraying him in some way, but Claire refused to say it. It seemed she indeed held affinity and loyalty to the bastard, after all.
"I'm not really sure," Claire stalled. "William and Wesker had an argument." More like a weird-as-hell lover's quarrel…
Annette looked away. "I see…"
"It had to do with-"
The front door opened. Chris appeared, rubbing a towel over his wet hair. "Claire! There you are! I was getting worried!"
"I'm fine, Bro," she gave him a quick smile before turning back to Annette. "Let me grab Sherry's gifts real quick."
Annette nodded. Claire bounded up the front porch, squeezed by her brother, and went to her room. She rummaged through her gifts for Sherry's, neatly wrapped and ready like Moira's and Polly's nearby. When Claire returned outside, Annette was already back in the car. She opened up Sherry's door and presented her with the wrapped gifts.
"For you, Sherry."
"Really?" Sherry shyly put her hands out, mouth slightly agape in delighted surprise.
"Yes, really," Claire laughed. "Merry Christmas, Sherry."
"Merry Christmas, Claire! Thank you!" The girl threw her arms around Claire's neck in a tight embrace, almost making her bump her head on the car.
Claire squeezed her back, adoring this little girl. "You're welcome, sweetie."
After she closed the car door, they pulled out of the driveway and left. Claire headed back inside before she caught a cold, spotting Chris peeking through the window.
"I was starting to think I would have to go over there," Chris said lightly, a joke to cover his worry. "Thought maybe you were gonna spend Christmas with them instead of me."
Claire didn't feel like bickering over it after the night she had and laughed it off. "Nah, they were just running late as usual. They're workaholics."
"I can tell. It's after ten on Christmas Eve night! I mean, we didn't even get to watch Die Hard!"
Shit, I forgot!
It was Redfield tradition every Christmas Eve to watch Die Hard, but this year proved to be one of the most stressful and dangerous days of her life. Chris didn't know. He thought she had an easy day going to lunch with him and babysitting. He didn't know a psychopath had broken into their home, didn't know that she was kidnapped, or even used as leverage by his own fucking boss in some kind of crazy coup within the shady underbelly of Umbrella.
Claire felt it now that she was home, now that it was all behind her. Her body could barely stand, her eyes could barely stay open. She was exhausted mentally and physically. Hell, even her soul was exhausted. Being Wesker's pawn was frazzling in itself, but it had nothing on being his lover. The moment she first had sex with him was when this whole ordeal grew exponentially more dangerous and complicated.
"I'm sorry, Chris. How about I cook breakfast and we watch it in the morning?"
Watching her yawn and rub her eye, her brother chuckled. "Yeah, sure, if you don't sleep in half the day. You look like you're about to pass out!"
"I had a long day." She yawned again and hugged him, pecking him on his stubbly cheek before pulling away. "Goodnight, Bro. See ya in the morning."
"Goodnight, Sis. Sweet dreams."
She hoped for some as she shuffled to her bedroom. She sleepily wondered how different these past two weeks would've been had she not gone out to the hiking trails. That was easy. She would've been safer, oblivious. The blinders Albert warned her about would still be in place. The same blinders she now knew he had begun to rip away as he'd promised…contaminating her morals, manipulating them to become as skewed as his.
How different would it have been had she not given in to temptation with him? Claire had an unsettling feeling she would've been dead, but that wasn't quite it. As she changed, brushed her teeth, and plopped onto her bed like she hadn't laid in it for years, a strange thought came over her. A revelation. There never was an alternate outcome between them.
Claire turned onto her side, curling into a ball, closing her eyes tight, sleep washing over her. They were drawn to each other from the start, like a moth to the other's flame, and they were still burning. What would the ashes look like? Moths didn't emerge from their ashes like phoenixes…
He wanted her to burn, wanted her to see the world as he saw it. His twisted way of protecting me…freeing me. There was one constant to Wesker, however – He always had an ulterior motive. There was something he wished to forge from her within the flames. What though?
A/N: Heeeeeeey yoooooooo! Sorry for the long wait on this chapter! Life has been nuts, plus I just couldn't get myself completely happy with this chapter for some reason :/ Well, hopefully you awesome readers will like it, that's what matters! :D
Now that the Endgame has wrapped up, that means there are only a few chapters left of the story! Ahhhhh! No worries though! There WILL be a sequel to come that will span the events of RE1, RE2/3, and Code Veronica! ;)
I want to thank everyone again for your continued support on this massive story. I truly appreciate you all!
P.S: Doesn't the Resident Evil 4 remake look stunning? I'm drooling!
Until next time, take care! ^.^