Resident Evil: Tangled Web

By: PhantasmBabeIvory

Chapter Eight

Author's Notes: This chapter has been revised and re-uploaded. I've changed Elliott's behavior/actions following his fight with Claire. Enjoy.

Day 1 - December 6, 2006

Elliott at least had the decency to wait until Claire's tears ceased before he started in on her. "Do you want to tell me what the hell that was?"

Despite being tired and depressed, she still managed a sassy comeback. "You'll have to be more specific so I know what you're referring to." When he didn't answer right away, she said, "I'm an open book, Elliott. What's eating away at you the most?"

He rubbed at his face. "Who or what is this guy? Let's start there!"

Claire sighed. She shifted on the sofa to make herself more comfortable. "His name is Albert Wesker, and once upon a time, he was someone both my brother and I admired very much."

"You keep some very strange company then," Elliott said derisively.

She was too weary to argue. "His eyes weren't always like that. However, that didn't make him any less of a monster." She leaned her head against one hand. "My story, my brother's, even Wesker's – it all began back in a place called Raccoon City. Ours were just a handful of the many lives that were irrevocably changed by what happened there."

He started pacing. "Raccoon City? Isn't that the place that was wiped out by a nuclear missile?"

Claire nodded. "Once it got to the point that the city couldn't be saved, yes. One of Umbrella Corps.'s viruses that was capable of reanimating the dead got out, infected maybe ninety percent of the population. Any living person that got bit by one of the infected would themselves turn within a few hours at most. It spread too fast for it to be contained, or cured. As I understand it, Oswell Spencer was largely to blame for that outbreak."

Elliott hesitated. "This guy, Wesker... He indicated twice that he's at odds with your brother. What's the story there?"

"It's a long story, if you can bear with me." She shut her eyes momentarily. "My brother – Chris – used to be part of a special ops division of the Raccoon City Police Department. Paramilitary unit called Special Tactics and Rescue Services. S.T.A.R.S., for short. They were responsible for combating terrorist activity and handling the more violent criminals within the city limits. Twelve members total, divided into two separate teams."

She stopped when she caught Elliott yawning. "Hey! You're the one who wanted to hear this!"

"I didn't ask for you to make it boring!"

Claire got to her feet. "Fine! If you're going to be an ass, then we're done." She turned away, her gaze panning the room.

Elliott came up behind her, angrily gripping her by the shoulder. She barely heard him saying not to walk away from him before instinct kicked in. She jabbed her elbow into his side and ground her heel into his foot in one fluid motion. When his grip loosened, she spun to face him. A hit to the groin was enough to drop him.

She was unable to keep her anguish out of her voice. "I am not going to put up with your bullshit anymore, Elliott!" she said. "I've just had my life turned upside down! I'm tired and scared and I don't know if I'll ever see Chris or my friends again! And in case you didn't notice, I just made a deal with the devil to save your sorry life! Don't make me regret that!" She took a step back. "I'm not the one to blame for you being here!"

When she was certain he wouldn't answer, she turned away. It didn't take her long to survey their living space. It was spacious, just as Wesker had said, decorated and painted in shades of lavender and red. In the main area was a fully stocked kitchen and a living room. No TV or computer, but there was a treadmill and a bookcase filled with romance, mystery, historical fiction, and poetry books. The refrigerator was filled to the brim with fruits, vegetables, meat products, milk, and juice. Loaves of bread and a spice rack sat on the counter with every jar imaginable, even spices that Claire had never heard of. Through adjoining doors, she found a bedroom, bathroom, and a pantry with a washer and dryer. A walk-in closet in the former yielded clothes that were suitable for either her or Elliott. At least Wesker had thought ahead on that aspect.

Claire returned to the main room, her exploration done. Elliott was seated on the floor where she'd left him and paying her no heed. The fact that the "apartment" was so welcoming depressed her. It definitely proved that Wesker had been planning this for a good long while. Even if she'd escaped his grasp at the fundraiser, it was now apparent that he would have waited for another opportunity.

She was pulled from her musings by a loud thumping sound. She looked over to see Elliott raising his fist to throw a second punch at the floor. She saw blood staining the white marble tile when he drew his hand away. Claire moved forward, catching his arm to stop the third hit. "What are you doing?" she blurted out.

"Does it matter?" Elliott asked. He didn't put up a fight when Claire examined his bruised knuckles. He looked at her. "Tell me about this G-Virus. Is it contagious?"

"Relax, you're safe," she said bitterly. "If I ever start mutating, you'd be in greater danger of getting killed by me than actually catching something. Although since I'm still myself after a year, the odds of me changing are slim at best. In all other cases, transformation took place within minutes of exposure to the virus." She sighed. "And that's all assuming that Wesker is even telling the truth."

Elliott remained silent while she went to grab some antiseptic and bandages. To his credit, he didn't wince when she began cleaning the wound. "So it's not the same virus that destroyed Raccoon City?" he asked.

Claire hesitated before shaking her head. He picked up on her uncertainty. "It's a simple yes or no question," he pointed out. "What's difficult about that?"

She sighed. "Because technically, the G-Virus was an indirect cause of the outbreak. If you want details, it's going to be a long, potentially boring story."

"I'll pass... How many mutagens did Umbrella create?"

Claire felt her weariness returning. "Three that I know about. Maybe four. I'm not sure who manufactured the virus that made Wesker what he is, but he's always been in a league of his own. Neither Chris nor myself have ever encountered anyone else like him."

Elliott was silent for a long while. "I have to ask. Was there something between you and Wesker?"

Her eyes widened. "No, of course not!"

"Then why does he keep calling you dearheart?"

"I don't know. Seems to be his favorite name for me though. I certainly didn't do anything to invite it."

"Okay, I'll buy that. Now, how about telling me what happened between you and him on Rockfort Island?"

The mention of the island elicited some painful memories she didn't want to delve into right now. "Talking about that is going to make me feel worse than I already do. I'll tell you another time."

"He hurt someone you cared about, didn't he?" Elliott pressed.

To keep from crying, Claire bit her lip hard enough to draw blood. She wordlessly nodded and was thankful when he said nothing further on the subject.

He watched her tape the bandage in place. "I keep hoping I'll wake up and find this is all a bad dream."

She dabbed at her lower lip with one of the remaining pieces of gauze. "Me too," she said. "Granted, I've been through this before, but this time feels different." She looked towards the door. "He planned this too well. Even if Chris figures out who took us, odds are he wouldn't even begin to know where to look. I don't see a way out."

Elliott flexed his hand, looking blankly at the bandage. "If there is one, we'll find it," he said. She looked at him in surprise. "You were right. I was being an ass. That was me going back to a place I swore I'd never revisit. I'm sorry. I'd like to call a truce on one condition. I need to know how you knew Jessica was a threat before she actually did anything."

Claire was curious about his third statement, but it was something she could question him about later. "The day we met, I got an email from someone calling themselves RogueChild. I don't know who this person is. But they sent an obscure warning telling me to keep track of my cellphone. They made references to S.T.A.R.S. and Raccoon City, or I wouldn't have taken it seriously." Claire told him about how Jessica had snagged the phone. "When I saw it was missing from my purse, I knew something was up."

Elliott shifted his weight, looking puzzled. "Such an email would have been more useful on the day of the banquet. Why would this RogueChild send it three days prior?"

She shrugged. "I don't think it would have made a difference either way. Jessica and Raymond ambushed us too well. It would have been impossible to get away from them. Even if I hadn't lost my phone, I wouldn't have been able to make a call for help under the circumstances." She rubbed at her eyes. "Now that I think about it, RogueChild could easily be Wesker. It would be just like that bastard to play some sick game with me."

Elliott looked ready to ask more when the main door opened with a loud hiss. Both captives turned to see Wesker stepping into the room, his arms folded casually. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything," Wesker said in a conversational tone. Looking at Claire, he added, "I trust you've had enough time to get settled, dearheart. I thought you may want to get comfortable before any tests were implemented."

Wesker's cavalier attitude made her sick. She had suspected that he would want to run a rudimentary examination on her. Why he hadn't done so earlier was beyond her. Every ounce of her wanted to be defiant. Regardless, she rose to her feet, moving quietly towards Wesker. After he had drawn two vials of her blood and swabbed the inside of her cheek, he promptly left them alone again.

Once Wesker was gone, Claire stomped over to the couch. She grabbed one of the decorative throw pillows and pressed it to her face to muffle the screams that escaped her. Once she had calmed down, she became aware that Elliott's hand was lightly resting on her shoulder. She felt angry, tired, and numb when she looked over at him.

"You were right. He is a monster. I'm sorry you had to agree to submit to him to keep me safe," Elliott said.

She nodded. "I don't know how long I'm going to endure this. It hasn't even been two hours, and I already feel like I'm going to crack."

"Then we have to help each other stay strong. He can't hold us indefinitely."

"God, do I hope you're right." She dropped the pillow, crossing her arms. "But we can't ignore what he's said either." Her gaze was serious when she turned to look at him. "If I ever start changing in any way, you're going to have to kill me. There has to be something in here you can use as a weapon."

Elliott looked hesitant, but he nodded nevertheless. "Let's hope it never comes to that."

Author's Notes: Have fun trying to guess who RogueChild is; it's not Wesker.

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