Chapter Text
Deep below the mansion, long forgotten by its owners and those who passed it, was a man who considered himself to be a visionary, his goal not yet set
It is the year that Umbrella's stocks plummet, and the year that the insufferable Chris Redfield decided to infringe upon his plans. But no matter, he could make new ones.Ones that were inclusive of the elder Redfield.
A bit too inclusive, one would say.
He went in under the cover of darkness to Chris' temporary residence. He'd been trailing the man both directly and subtly over the past year. His sources were vast; his charm never failed him when it came to manipulation. A bit of charisma here, a forced smile there, and the promise of a monetary incentive, all enough to gain him the vast network of people who would tell him where Chris went, what he asked civilians about, and where he would stay as a weary traveler with an unknown motive.
And it all caught up to him, now Wesker had him in his clutches. Who could’ve known that it would be this easy? To capture his prey, rather than to kill it and revel in his victory.
The blond started his welcome with electro-shock therapy at Redfield's expense, and went on with far more devious tortures as part of the process.
Chris Redfield was his to keep for what would be the other man's eternity.
"Open your eyes, Chris. Your lovely eyes." His words are filled with contempt; Nothing less for his best man, after all.
He’s dreaming... At least, he was before the tyrant decided to bring him back to the world. His dreams weren’t anything special. They were more or less just memories of his life so far, starting from his departure from to Air force to the days of the S.T.A.R.S Alpha and Bravo team. It was as if he was living some sick joke, being in his dreams with the knowledge of how it wasn’t ever intended to be real. That unit was never meant to help people, not like they thought it would. Umbrella lied, Irons lied, Wesker LIED to them and the people of the city.
Hundreds of thousands paid the price for Umbrella’s selfishness, their evil schemes, their greed. The knowledge of that was overwhelming in itself. The worst part was how the government retaliated in response to the infection. Chris could understand why they’d done it, but even with that in mind, he couldn’t forgive their deliberate cover-up of the incident. It was about as bad as when Irons covered up what happened in the Arklay Mountains. Now there was a blank space where Raccoon City used to be, without even a remnant to be seen.
He opens his eyes, squinting at the harsh light he’d been met with. Chris’ first action was to glare at his captor, suddenly aware of the position he was in once more. Things were still a bit fuzzy for him after the electro-shock had done its work. But he knew who he’d be staring down, as if it was predestined.
“Wesker.”
“Chris.”
It seemed like hours for the older Redfield in which they stared each other down. Now that he was conscious, he could take notice of the bindings around his arms and legs. Albert Wesker wasn’t stupid enough to leave him confined in anything that could be broken or weakened. Not before the older man could subdue his prisoner.
“I see you can still obey an order. Tell me, how is your memory after our little session?” The former Captain smirks, as if he knew what the answer would be. He wanted to hear it from Redfield’s lips; he wanted to see if the man would be truthful, or if he would try to cover up his fragmented memory.
“You know the answer already.” Chris would be damned if he admitted weakness to his enemy. In this situation, he was damned if he did, and damned if he didn’t. Wesker undoubtedly had more planned for him. The tyrant would’ve just killed him on the spot instead of capturing him if he didn’t. He knows how little it takes at this point, which means he was probably prepared for the fist that connected with his jaw the moment after he replied.
“Didn’t your mother ever teach you to answer questions from your elder?” The insult is meant to anger the other, and to poke at boundaries that were closed off a long time ago. Their history extended to wider areas than their workplace relationship. In those 2 years, more had transpired between them than Chris could forget.
So when Wesker showed his true colors, it stuck with him. Everything he felt had died with the members of Alpha and Bravo. He could never forgive that, never. Hell, he couldn’t forgive himself for opening up to his Captain, even if he didn’t know about what went on behind the scenes.
He couldn’t forgive that remark either.
“You have no right to mention her, you piece of shit.” Chris gives the man in sunglasses a nasty glare, and it’s all he can do to defend himself at the moment.
“If you didn’t share your life with me so willingly, I wouldn’t have the power to. But you know all about that. After all, you shared so many secrets with me, and we both can’t forget that.” The blond pushes his sunglasses up, gaze fixed on the brunet. “It’s quite funny. The fact that I know more about you than you will ever know about me. You opened yourself up to me, and you have yet to realize that you no longer have the power to shut that door.” He taunts, gripping the man’s chin between his fingers, only to receive a look filled with enough fury to slaughter. ‘If looks could kill’, indeed.
Wesker’s smirk widens. "There's that fire, Redfield. But a nasty look alone could not stand to stop me. I could kill you and then go on. I could even occupy myself with Ms. Valentine, or even your sister. There are no limits to what I could do, what I am willing to do. The sooner you realize your position, the easier things become.” The tyrant chuckles, eyes glowing with mirth.
"I would do anything to make this your own personal hell. Think of the possibilities, Chris. I could kill you over and over, but you wouldn't die. No, you would become the monster your nightmares detail you becoming, at my side. Ready to die for me, and you would ALWAYS come back, never able to stray far enough. You would gain the eyes you could never forget after the first time you looked into them, we would be one in the same." Chris tries to turn his head, put at least a little distance between them to no avail.
"You would become my personal toy, my confidant, and my pet until the end of your eternity. Yet... So long as you are human, I can only kill you once. It has to be the PERFECT death, Chris. Just for you.”
The implications of what could... No, would happen was too much. Chris’ best friend and his sister were at stake. If he wasn’t over the edge, he sure as hell was now. He moved too quickly for the blond to anticipate, and flung his head forward, head-butting the man directly in the face.
Wesker only feels a slight sting, and the sound of a crack. The blond feel shards sliding down his face, and he doesn't need an expert to know that it's his sunglasses that were harmed most in this ordeal.
“You won’t touch anyone, because when I get out of this fucking chair, I will take. You. Down.” It was a bold move, and he knew it. Such big talk for the man at the mercy of a tyrant. Chris didn’t care about his own consequences; about what happened to him anymore, now that more was at stake than just himself. He would fight as long as possible, even while trapped, trying to free himself.
"YOU LITTLE--"
The tyrant punches Chris in the temple, enraged beyond words. Had he put more force behind the blow, Wesker could have killed his prisoner.
'Not yet. There's much to be done', the rational part of his mind supplies in his haze of blind fury.
It must be the perfect death, after all. But even the anticipation wasn't keeping his anger at bay. His eyes are on full display, like a fire that is no longer bound to a candle, free to devour everything in its path with flames in all its hellish glory. Chris Redfield was going to burn.
"Hmph. Seeing as you have the resolve to take me on, then you have the resolve to continue the session. Do try not to bite off your tongue, Chris." He paces over the machine he'd been using as a part of Redfield's welcome. Albert cranks the dial to a 'generous' setting.
He let the machine do its job, his face expressionless.