Resident Evil Series Fan Fiction ❯ Resident Evil Blood ❯ Chapter 7 Recalcitration ( Chapter 7 )

Yoh! Disclaimer: I don’t own nothing’. Except Captain Overan, but I’m not very proud of that... Resident Evil and it’s many AWESOME characters are all property of Capcom and I am simply borrowing their likeness to further perpetrate the ideal goals of Umbrella and their ideology of world peace! *double checks script* Peace? OK, who’s been messing with the script? Chris, I’m looking at you!

Resident Evil Blood

Chapter 7 – Recalcitration



Somewhere in Paris. Five years after Raccoon City.


“You win.” Chris closed his eyes and sunk his head in resignation. “I’ll play your game. Just… Don’t hurt them…”

Wesker slowly inhaled as he in took the other man’s declaration of defeat.

Sweeter words were never spoken truer or sung more beautiful than from bloodied lips and broken spirit.

The blond gorged on his victory. He savored it and let is body shiver slightly at the implications.

Although he had no way of holding Chris to his agreement, it didn’t matter. It was the psychological damaged that he had been after. He could easily spend the next few days, or weeks, or months, or even years tormenting the man – physically, it wouldn’t matter. He knew Chris; better than anyone else. Better than even himself, one could even say. He had, after all, hand chosen Chris to be in his special STARS unit. He was the only officer that had caught Wesker by surprise, from the first moment, from the first glance. His ability, his mind, his reflexes, everything about him stood out. Everything. As a human specimen, he was utterly perfect. To an extent, no other creature so like himself - and yet so distinctly different. And that made him utterly and completely desirable to Wesker.

He had tested him, both in and off the field. In every way, Chris always super exceeded each and every trial. In a way, it was both infuriating and, yet, extremely flattering to Wesker knowing that his chosen soldier could never be defeated or kept down. It only served to make these words now spoken by Chris all that much more intensely gratifying.

“You… Win…” Chris let his head flop beaten into the gelatinous puddle of his own coagulated blood. He lay there lifeless as a small trickle of the red liquid continued to ooze out of his nose and dribble over his lips and down his chin. “Please… Don’t hurt them…”
”

“You have my word Chris.” Wesker knew that the only weakness; the only sad and pathetic weakness, to this otherwise gloriously perfect mind and body, was the brunette’s association and loyalty to those weaker life forms he intermingled with. And that weakness more than made up for any type of remuneration.

What a waste.

Wesker scoffed at the bloody pulp laying next to him. “Hmph,” he raised and walked off still miffed by a slight unnerving tinge of disgust towards Chris. His little “self-sacrifice” ordeal left a bad aftertaste in the tyrant’s mouth. Not because Wesker felt bad for being the bastard that had manipulated Chris into that position, far from it (actually that part had Wesker feeling rather quite smug with himself). No, it was just the blatant display of goodness emanating from Chris that irked him. It was the disregard that man had for his own self worth – and Wesker was one to know about self worth. It annoyed the hell out of him. He had no doubt that if placed into the position, Chris would easily sacrifice himself to save another life, regardless of how much of a drunken, drug addicted, idiot menace that other person might be. He’d still sacrifice himself for that other person. His one flaw; the greatest flaw that could ever exist: Chris was incapable of putting himself at the top of his own priority list. And it was that flaw that now had him dangling, ensnarled in Wesker’s web.

No other person in current existence, according to Wesker, as much as he hated to acknowledge this and would never dare speak it out loud, even came close to being his equal as did Chris Redfield. And Wesker frankly saw himself as being very well near perfection incarnate, dare he say, a veritable god in his own right. And that put Chris high up there on his own pedestal if Wesker considered him to be his greatest rival and closest equal. So when Chris went and did stupid things, like risk his life for the pathetic slobbering masses, and go on about equality and justice for all – it was like a slap in the face to Wesker’s dignity. And there was no greater insult than that by far.

Wesker looked back down on Chris. His shamed and bloodied body, even in this current state, as dark bruises and painful cuts covered the entire lengths of his thick and muscular torso and stretched down his still striking naked figure, couldn’t subdue the raw power that radiated from with in. His long legs remained surreal and graceful despite the stains of blood that dripped from the evil looking gashes that ran parallel to their length. Wesker growled.

What an utterly pitiful waste.

“You have my word.” He restated and holstered his magnum, while pulling out a white aerosol can that read ‘first aid spray’. “I won’t shoot them.” He reached down and dug his fingers into the blood matted hair of Chris’ scalp. “Now don’t scream,” he whispered into the man’s ear as he pulled his head up off the floor. “This is going to hurt.” The blond grinned reminding himself of their little game as Chris whimpered unconsciously. “Not that I’d mind if you did.” With that he let the head drop carelessly back onto the dark, dirty floor with a loud thud and sprayed the entire contents onto Chris’ body.

A green cloud enveloped the brunette and shrouded his quickly contorting expression as the ex-STARS member fought desperately to keep from screaming. He couldn’t let himself make a sound. He couldn’t let himself alert his team that he was just in the other room. The first aide spray usually didn’t hurt this bad, a slight sting maybe, but never anything like this. Then again, when had he ever been hurt like this. He could feel, actually physically feel, the skin on his body connecting and regenerating, growing and fusing, and the bones as they moved inside his body; realigning themselves and knitting; moving organs and flesh out of its way. It was painful. It was ungodly painful.

“Ah… ggghhh…” Chris clamped his mouth closed and choked back tears as his entire frame tensed and filled with heat from the onset of pain. It hurt like knifes digging into his very bowels and stirring him up like a hurricane with flames of lightning exploding inside. He squeezed his eyes closed and tossed his head back not knowing what to do; how to react. It was unbearable! The sharp intensity threatened to overcome his already exhausted mind. And then, finally, just when he thought he would consciousness, he let out a deep breath of stale air as the pain subsided, disappearing as quickly as it had come. His entire body slumped to the floor completely drained of what little energy he had managed to keep from earlier.

“Let’s go,” Wesker commanded. He knew Chris would be unable to get up. Not after that. Still, he baited him on. “Or would you rather we stay and entertain our… BSAA guests?”

For once, just once, a selfish thought flashed through Chris’ mind where he just didn’t care anymore; couldn’t care. He’d had enough. He knew he couldn’t move. His senses were shot. His body, although possibly healed now, felt like every nerve was a frayed wire waiting to short circuit. But… He mentally shook his head.

I can’t… I can’t let… Jill. Carlos. Everyone….

He knew he had precious little time left. “No,” his voice nothing but a ghost in the dark room now. “I’ll go, just,” he continued to whisper, wondering if Wesker could even hear him. “Just let me…” Chris grunted as he dragged his arms to his side and desperately tried to lift himself up. “Ugh,” he failed, painfully falling back against the cold, hard tile floor. “Wes… Wesker…” he practically cried. “I can’t… I can’t move.”

The blond man simply stood there, studying Chris; watching his fragile, trembling human body. He watched as Chris tried again and again to hoist himself up, but could not so much as lift himself more than a few centimeters off the ground. Each time, he could see the man growing weaker, breathing harder, his limbs at their very limit as they violently began to shake.

But still you don’t give up… Such tenacity! Chris! If only you weren’t the fool you are, such power could be yours!

“Enough,” Wesker finally spoke as he saw the lights from the flashlights shining on the door right outside the room they were currently occupying. He quickly pulled a device from his tactical vest that lay carelessly tossed on the floor a few meters away from Chris. Flipping the switch box open from the grenade-sized hand held device, he nonchalantly pushed the red button. Not a second later, there was a huge explosion in the distance followed by another explosion closer by and then yet another and another each one getting progressively closer, until the last explosion sent in jet sprays of air and clouds of raised dusts into the enclosed room that made breathing near impossible.

In the meantime, Wesker had gone over to Chris and with one hand tightly wrapped around the brunette’s arm and the other curled under his waist, he easily picked him up and slung him over his shoulder. Parts of the ceiling were falling already; grey-white paneling cascading to the floor as computer screens fizzled and zapped on and off.

Outside, frantic yelling could be heard as the A-1 unit scrambled to make sense of the explosions. Already Wesker could see them, their flashlights like monstrous glow bugs zipping around like insane blind rats, scurrying around in the artificial dust storm. Visibility was zero. And Wesker knew this.

But not for me.

With Chris secured on one side, Wesker took his dear sweet time recovering his effects: the camera, his discarded gear. He took a look at Chris’ torn and shredded dirty clothing, but decided against retrieving them.

No point.

And with that, he calmly opened the door leading into the hallway. The dust clung more heavy in the air here than it had in the other room. Not that it mattered. It was impossible to see more than half an arms length away, but Wesker navigated the corridor easily with his unnaturally enhanced tyrant sight. On either side of him he maneuvered around the A-1 members. He smirked as he spotted Jill clinging to one of the walls. He heard her calling over the walkie-talkie for the team to evacuate. Wesker chuckled as the humans clumsily staggered down the hallway. He, on the other hand, had already far out distanced himself from them and was already stepping out of the building.

The fresh air was refreshing, but even more refreshing was the prospect of what was in store for him - and for his cargo. Wesker laughed as his grip tightened around Chris. He other man, Wesker noted, was conveniently passed out. If anything it made it easer to transport him. No need to worry about unnecessary struggling and the like.

Wesker started down the street and stopped in front of a classic black jeep wrangler parked not too far down the road. He carelessly tossed Chris in the back and piled his stuff on top of him, got in and pulled it out in reverse. He looked in the rear view mirror and noticed that the BSAA team was finally making their way out. “Took them long enough,” he condescended. He reached behind the driver’s seat and groped around until he pulled out the same detonating device that he had used earlier. He flipped a black switch on the side and then pressed the same red button once again like he had done just minutes ago. A second later, the entire building exploded in a flurry of flames.

Glass shards and metal frame work went flying through the air landing in flaming piles all around the jeep. The explosion caused windows to shatter for blocks on either side and cars near the building to overturn from the force itself. Wesker couldn’t help but laugh manically out loud. “See Chris,” he began, now completely in a good mood. “I kept my word.” He put the car in drive and gave it quite a liberal amount of gas as they peeled out of sight. “I didn’t shoot them.”


Present Day

Chris sat up. He could hear foot steps heading his way. He knew they were destined for his room when he heard the guards on either side of his door stiffen up and shift their rifles onto their sides. Ordinary sounds that he shouldn’t even be hearing had alerted him of their actions.

The ex-STARS member scoffed slightly at himself. It sometimes annoyed him how much of a disadvantage the humans had against him now. Or, was it that it bothered him how much of an advantage he had against them now. Or the fact that he had just referred to them as “humans”?

“Shit,” he spoke to himself as he adjusted his shades.

That bastard’s rubbing off on me…

At that thought, the door swung open. Calmly entering the room was Colonel McGivern, followed closely behind by Claire, and Jill. Claire waived and Chris smiled at the friendly sight.

At least that jack ass Overan captain guy isn’t with them.

There were a few other unfamiliar faces, but Chris didn’t care. Claire had already run up to him and greeted him with a heartfelt hug.

“Chris!” she exclaimed. “How’d you sleep?!”

“Great,” he lied. “You?”

“Barely a wink! I wanted to come see you earlier, but Bruce wouldn’t let me!” she shouted purposely too loud while giving the Colonel a playfully mean stare. Chris raised an eyebrow, questioning his sister’s sanity at such an outburst towards a colonel, but he reminded himself that she was technically a civilian so-

“Chris?”

“Hm? Sorry, what?” Chris suddenly snapped out of his thoughts. “What was that?”

“I asked if you want breakfast,” Claire repeated looking concerned now.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Sure,” he quickly agreed.

“Great!” McGivern suddenly cut in clapping his hands together. “Because I’m starved! And Claire refused to go eat anything until we came and got you,” he added giving her a playful look too.

Chris frowned awkwardly, but got up anyways and followed the entourage out of the room. Claire at first walked next to him, holding onto his arm while aimlessly chatting about how the base had the best egg muffins from all the bases she’d been to and other such useless banter, until McGivern made some quip comment about being jealous, at which Claire laughed and quickly went to go seemingly flirt with him.

Chris frowned again, but didn’t say anything. Instead he shuffled next to Jill who he’d noticed hadn’t said a word to him yet. “Hey,” he lightly commented. “How you doing?”

“OK,” Jill looked at him, but quickly looked away as she answered, “I guess.”

“Oh.” There was an awkward silence between them as they walked down the hallway to what Chris could only guess was the cafeteria. The other people that walked with them stayed at a relatively small distance behind them. Chris didn’t need anyone to tell him that the men were trained soldiers. He could see it in their movement; the way they looked at him... He couldn’t help but wonder if their presence here was because of him.

Good to know the government is still paranoid… They should be.

Claire’s giggling caught his attention again. He stifled an urge to growl. She was holding onto McGivern’s hand now. “Is there something I’m missing?” he turned to Jill and pleaded like a lost puppy.

Jill simply looked at him like he’d spoken in Hebrew, then shook her head while looking away incredulously. “Yeah,” she stifled a laugh and gave him a look. “Try a whole year.”

Chris down cast his eyes. He deserved that.

“They’re together,” he heard Jill’s voice. She sounded apologetic.

“Together?” he asked unsure of what she was talking about.

“Claire and the Colonel. They’re together.”

It took a few seconds for that to register in his brain.

“WHAT?!” he responded a little too vocally. The entire group stopped and turned to look at him. Claire still had her hand in McGivern’s. Chris absentmindedly noticed the guys trailing behind quickly make their way towards them.

“Chris, are you alr-?” Claire began.

“You’re together?!?”

McGivern and Claire looked at each other. “Yeah,” Claire started to explain. “Bruce and I-“

“But he’s old!” Chris shouted.

“I’m not old!” McGivern quickly interjected scrunching up his nose and looking indignant.

“Chris, what the hell?!” Claire shouted suddenly ticked off.

The ex-STARS member was about to argue back when he felt someone take his hand. He turned to see Jill looking at him, giving him the “this-is-not-the-time-nor-the-place” look. He fisted his other hand and swallowed a growl. She was right. “Sorry,” he managed to say looking back. “You just,” he fought for the right excuse. “Caught me by surprise.”

“I’m not old,” McGivern restated. His feathers were seriously ruffled. Claire just shook her head at Chris giving him a “I-can’t-believe-you” glare and latched onto McGivern more tightly. No doubt to further emphasis her attachment to him. Or to rub it into Chris. Most likely both. “Seriously, I’m not old!” McGivern now turned to Claire, as he raised his other arm and shrugged wildly. “Why does everyone always think I’m old?!”



***************************** Author Time! *****************************
Yoh!
Man, I like McGivern. If you don’t know who he is, go google him now. I always liked to imagine him as a guy that would die of old age still insisting he was 26. And Claire’s the kind of girl that’s been through far too much in her life already to let simple age get in the way of her happiness. Anyways, I can completely see them working out together.
Anywho! Yeah! Wesker! He’s run off with Chris! Oh, no’s! And he would be the kind of cocky guy to just calmly walk out of there with BSAA agents running all around him, and be like, “Pshee, whatever.” Explosion! Followed by a maniacal laugh, and then hit the gas. He’s SO cool! So, join us Next time on Draaagon baaaall Ze--!!!... I mean, on Reeesident Eeeevil: Blooooood!!!

R/R please! Let me know what you think so far! Reviewing makes me want to update more often, so the more reviews, the quicker the next update!