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The first thing you felt when waking up was the texture of the cold ground. As you opened your eyes, you realized there was something blocking your vision. When you tried to bring one of your hands to your face to push it away, you found they were secured behind your back. You heard the sound of a metal chain move against the stone floor.
Wesker. He’d discovered you. It must have been him. Coming to this place had made it easy- now that he had you back, it was going to hurt. more than you'd ever imagined it could. He’d make you regret leaving. He’d-
A hand touched your shoulder. Instantly you were kicking at them, trying to drag yourself away. But your back hit a wall behind you.
“Easy! I’m trying to help.”
The bag over your head was a thin enough material that you could see the blurry shape of the man in front of you
“I’m a prisoner too. Let me help you.”
You nodded.
He reached out, and touched your cheek. You flinched away.
“Stay still. I’m just getting that off your face.”
He pulled the coarse cloth off over your head. You shook your hair out of your face. The man in front of you definitely wasn’t one of the cult members. He was tan, with chin-length dark, wavy hair, and wearing a leather jacket that looked too nice for whatever he was doing in this place. Now that you could see him clearly, it occurred to you that although you couldn’t place him, he was vaguely familiar. And judging by his expression, he recognized you too.
“I’ve seen you. You were Wesker’s…” he hesitated as you flinched at the mention of Wesker’s name. He struggled to find a word. You could think of many that applied. His servant, his lackey, his weapon, his dog. “You worked for him,” he settled on. You nodded.
“You were a scientist at Umbrella.”
You knew from his expression that you were correct.
“Regrettably. And I take it you’re no longer Wesker’s?” You nod again. But the mention of him brings back the fear of why you’re trapped down here.
“Who put me here?”
“Servants of the Plagas.”
“Are they working for Wesker?”
“By extent,” He said. “I should have introduced myself.” He put his hand on his chest. “Luis. I'd shake your hand, but they seem unavailable at the moment. Do you have a name?”
You hesitate. Chris has always referred to you the designation number you’d been given by Wesker. Your commanders call you that too. But that’s not a name. That’s a number.
“No.”
“Come on, you’re not going to tell me?”
“I don’t have one.”
“Oh,” he said, not knowing how to respond.
“Why are you here?” You asked.
“Personal reasons,” he said. “You?”
You hesitated to answer. But throughout your life, you’d learned well how to distinguish people’s intentions from small mannerisms. From being able to know when Wesker was angry and when to stay quiet, to knowing when someone was dangerous. And Luis, while secretive, didn’t seem to have any ulterior motives.
“I’m here to kill Wesker.”
Luis almost laughed.
“that’s a suicide mission. You’ve seen the force he has protecting him. And if you got to him, then what? He’d kill you himself.”
“And are you really expecting that you’ll survive this place?” You asked him.
He didn’t respond for a few moments.
“I guess we’re not so different.”
You lean back against the wall. Luis takes a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, and lights one. You focus on the warmth of the ember lighting his face, the orange flickering in the reflection of his dark eyes. You don’t realize you’re staring at him until he makes eye contact with you again.
“Enjoying the view?”
“They let you keep the lighter?” You shift the subject. You put your face down, hoping it’s too dark for him to be able to tell how flushed it is.
“They didn’t check too thoroughly.”
That made you think. Your guns had been taken. But there could still be other stuff on you they’d missed.
“Luis?”
“Yes?”
“There was a folding knife in my pocket. The left one. It might have something on it that can pick locks. Can you… can you check for it?”
“The bars are controlled by a lever on the other side of the hall,” he says, “and the door to the basement is locked from the outside. But a lockpick may be able to get you unchained.”
Luis drops the cigarette. He moves closer to you, and reaches across your body to slide his hand into your pocket. Your heart starts to beat faster.
“There’s nothing here… are you sure you didn’t just want a reason to have me on top of you?”
“Check the other one,” you say. He reaches into your other pocket, and quickly pulls out the knife.
“So you weren’t lying.” He starts to unfold the tools on it, until he finds a screwdriver.
“One more thing, before I free you.”
He flips the knife in his hand. “Tell me then. Why the change of heart since I last saw you? Why are you so determined to kill him now?”
Every reason runs through your head. Everything that he’d done to you. But nothing you could tell Luis could fully describe how you felt towards him.
“I didn’t realize at first that he was hurting me. All I’d known was being hurt. I didn’t understand until…”
It had been three years since you’d been in the helicopter crash, and since Chris had found you bleeding out and abandoned by your handler.
“Until I met someone who didn’t want to hurt me.”
You wanted to tell Luis that you hated Wesker. But what scared you was that you didn’t know if you did. You knew that he was irredeemable. You didn’t know if he had ever cared for you. But despite everything, there was a part of you who felt like something was missing without him. Who wanted to cry out for him when you were afraid. After all, he was your creator.
“I need him to be dead so he can’t hurt anyone else anymore.”
You knew that was what Luis would want to hear. But the honest reason wasn’t selfless. If Wesker was dead, you could never go back to him. If he was dead there would no longer be anything to go back to. You wouldn’t be his servant anymore. Maybe then, you’d even feel like a person.
You don’t know if it was someone who knew who you were that had put you here. But you know if Wesker sees you, he will. You’re scared he hates you now and he’ll kill you but you’re even more scared that once you see him again You’ll forget everything, You’ll forget Chris and then when Wesker tells you he can save you you’ll listen. You’ll let things be how they were before and-
Luis puts a hand on your shoulder, and you flinch.
“Breathe.”
He’s right. You’re holding your breath. You’re crying, too. You aren’t sure when you started.
“I’m sorry I made you talk about him.”
Luis gently nudges you forward, and you can hear him fidgeting with the screwdriver. After a few moments, the shackles are pried away from your wrists. He flips the screwdriver back into place, and takes your hand, placing the folding knife in it.
“You’ll need this,” he says. “For when you kill Wesker.”
You nod. You wipe your nose with your newly freed hand, and out a shaky breath. The shame that crying brings you is almost enough to outweigh the fear of your confrontation with Wesker, at least in this moment. Luis lights another cigarette. This time, after taking a long drag of it himself, he offers it to you.
“My last.”
“I don’t smoke.”
“A pity.”
You sit in silence together, until Luis finishes the cigarette and drops it onto the stone floor, before standing up and grinding the cigarette butt under his heel. He circles the cell, pausing briefly to look beyond the bars. He squints, but the hallway looks too dark for him to be able to see much.
“If we’re lucky,” he says, leaning against the wall, “they’ve forgotten we’re down here.”
Then Luis stretches his arms above his head, and starts to dance.
If it wasn’t for the sheer absurdity of the situation, you would have been impressed. But locked in a cell under the residence of a cult worshipping a bioweapon, all you can do is stare in bewilderment at him. He stops in front of you, and bows dramatically- offering you his hand.
“Would you have this dance with me?”
You don’t have any response other than to stare back at him.
“…I don’t know how,” is the first thing you manage to say in response.
“So I’ll show you. Don’t keep me waiting.”
You nervously extend your hand, and as soon as it meets Luis’s, he pulls you to your feet. You’re agile, sure, but in the way someone trained to fight is agile. Dancing is unfamiliar to you.
“You’re being too stiff,” Luis says.
“I told you I didn’t know how,” you mumble.
“At least try harder not to step on my feet!” For the first time in a while, you crack a smile. Luis notices, and smiles back at you.
“See? It’s working.”
He finishes it by spinning you and pulling you against him, with his hands resting on your hips. Your faces are maybe an inch apart, his eyes locked on yours. That really does make you go stiff, but you don’t want to move away either.
“Flustered?” Your face must be red, you realize. He moves one hand from your hip to your cheek. “You’re warm.”
“So what?” You say, putting on an uncaring expression again. But it’s too late for that.
“Are you embarrassed?” He says, “Or are you waiting for me to kiss you?” The suggestion almost startles you.
He’s right, you realize. You were waiting.
“Are you going to do it?” Is the only reply you come up with. He smiles in response, and leans in.
You’d never been kissed before. But Luis’s mouth on yours, his hand on your hip and the other keeping the back of your head steady, the ends of his hair brushing against your cheek as he leans over you, it feels good. It feels right.
After a long few moments, Luis pulls back. His hands move to your shoulders.
“Are you okay? You’re so still.”
“Sorry,” you say. “I’m okay, I’m…” suddenly you feel like time has turned back and you’re the same nervous mess you were with Wesker. You can’t have that. Not ever again.
“I’m okay. I’ve just never kissed someone before.”
Amusement flickers across Luis’s face, and he raises his eyebrows.
“Really?”
“I didn’t have much of a social life when I was working for Wesker.”
“I’m honored to be your first, then. It’s too bad, though, that everyone else will be a letdown compared to me.”
You smile slightly at that. A smile which is almost immediately wiped away as the door to the basement is thrown open.
The man who enters is immediately terrifying. He’s huge- taller and more muscular than you or Luis. There’s a scar across his face, going from his cheekbone to through his mouth.
“Isn’t that cute,” he says with a mocking smile.
You let go of Luis immediately, and back away.
He pulls the lever down, and it slides the bars to the side, with nothing remaining between you and him. He makes eye contact with you.
“The other one is someone else’s to deal with. I’m taking you with me.”
You almost ran for the stairs- but you couldn’t. If you got away, what if he hurt Luis as revenge?
You take your knife from your pocket. It’s only 3 or so inches, and not nearly as intimidating as the one he’s taken from his belt, but it’s all you have.
He rushed you, and tried to grab you. But you were quick. You were able to duck under his arms, and swerve to the side. At the same time, you took his gun from the holster. You fired immediately, but it missed. You hit the stone wall behind him. In the time it took you to do that, it was already too late. He grabbed you by the front of your jacket, and twisted your wrist until you dropped the gun. But it wasn’t over. Your knife was still in the other hand. You wrapped your hand around it, and shot your fist up, embedding half the blade in his arm.
He swore in pain, and his group loosened just enough that you could pull out of it. But when you leaned down to pick up the gun, he kicked you in the stomach. It knocked the air out of you, and you collapsed. He got on the ground, knee on your chest, the flat edge of the knife pressed hard enough against your throat that you struggled to breathe.
“Wesker was right. You’ve got some fucking nerve.”
Wesker’s name, coming from his mouth, made any words you could have spoken evaporate immediately. When he said that name, all your fears were confirmed.
You looked over at Luis, who looked equally terrified. But the man grabbed your chin and turned your head back to him.
“Try to run again and I’ll break your legs.” He flipped you onto your stomach, and cuffed your hands behind your back. You weren’t small, but he lifted you up and tossed you over his shoulder like you were nothing. You knew better than to try to squirm out of his grip. As he took you away from the basement, you shot one last desperate look at Luis, only to see his head was in his hands. Defeated.
The man took you to a small boat docked on the side of the castle. He threw you carelessly into the back, and got into the driver’s seat. You were sprayed with water as the boat lurched to a start, but you had retreated too far into your own head to care.
After everything, you were going back to Wesker. Back to being nothing but a dog for someone more powerful than you. And when he had you again, he was going to make you suffer.