Chapter Text
Project W: Prelude
PG00A/W
The heart of the man known as Albert Wesker can only be described as a frozen, withered, blackened, shattered thing, incapable of feeling even the simplest forms of human compassion, empathy, and certainly no form of anything even close to resembling love. In all honesty, the man doesn't even consider himself to be a part of the mortal human race he so despises anymore.
In every aspect Wesker is a monster and he enjoys it.
However, there was a time when this was not so. Wesker was not born a sadistic, murdering, B.O.W.. He was not "manufactured" as Lord Spencer claimed. Wesker, the man who had once been human, was viciously molded and shaped in to the twisted creature he is today by the equally unholy organization known as Umbrella and almost every individual who touched him, further perpetuating the slow unstoppable spread of the virus seeping through his tainted veins.
This is the story of what became of the heart that used to beat within the demon's chest; the account of the vicious irrevocable assaults that left it a frozen, withered, blackened, pile of jagged shattered pieces, incapable of caring about anyone aside from himself.