How long had it been, three- five days since he’d been home? He didn’t remember, didn’t even think about it until he was finally on a familiar doorstep. His stature wavered as he knocked on the smooth oak door, staining its wood with tattered knuckles before his arm went limp at his side.

It was hard to breathe, each breath straining more and more energy from the blonde as he attempted to do so, his good knee threatening to give out at any second as he waited- listening to someone approaching the door.

Home

The moment that door opened was the moment Albert’s eyes closed and his body fell forward. He knew where he was, could hear Chris’ breath in a crowded room let alone up close. Albert sighed, letting his consciousness go. For now, he was victorious, he was safe..

he was home.

“ What did you do this time you fucking idiot?! ” Chris gasped all in a single breath, clutching Albert's broken body tightly as he became dead weight in his arms. His instincts took over completely as he eased the blond to the floor, frantically shoving his fingertips against his neck to confirm he was still breathing. In this better angle, the light hit his face and Chris could clearly see the gruesome injuries he'd suffered, his usually fair skin now deathly white and marred by huge, dark red gashes.

“ Jesus Christ- "

He blanked for a second, before gripping the soaked jacket and trying, with all the blood rapidly coating his palms, to get it off of him and see where all the bleeding was coming from. As soon as he did, he wished he hadn't. The cuts on his torso were identical in shape and depth to the ones on his face, with additional deep gouges and what seemed to be bites. Before Chris moved him around any further. he rapidly checked for anything broken; swiping over each limb, his vertebrae, his skull, and his ribs.

Young Albert

Sorry, I have more stupid things for you ,,,

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viruxlent‌:

“Fuck – shut up!” She hesitates there, for a fraction of a second – torn between leaping forward and STOMPING on him, either to render him unconscious or crush his fucking throat or just hurt him so bad it deprives him of his ability to speak, and between turning and bolting out the door to stick with her plan. Part of it involves dealing with Chris, too, of course, and then she realizes she’s only got one remote and that…

Well, maybe – she’s never seen one of these things up close, and for all she knows it’s like one of those dog collar remotes, where it can control two at a time. Hawker fumbles with the device, inspecting it quickly, gleaning what she can about its operation just from looking at it. If she can cut off both doses, no help will come to the asshole on the floor, and then she’s got however long the reaction keeps him down to get the controllers off both of them and get out. 

She kicks him, for good measure, and also to flip him over again. If he’s got another of these things on him, that tells her what she needs to know. 

Wesker lands on his back with a squeak, snarling weakly at her through his blood-stained teeth and pathetically wet eyes as he tries to move and can’t. For once, no vulgar curses or sarcastic taunts come out of his mouth-- he's too busy panicking and struggling to get his lungs to work properly. He can only stare up at her with blood starting to drip back down throat, coughing harshly in between each stilted inhale.

Beyond the black static of his failing vision. he can see that she’s not looking directly at him, her eyes are scanning him, she’s looking for something else. He knows immediately what that something is and before he can think to stop himself, he’s already reacting to instinct and tries to guard the remote to Chris’s serum; but he can only manage a slight muscle jerk as his fingers curl and claw desperately against the linoleum, a guttural groan rumbling quietly in his chest.

He almost flinched at the mention of his colleague. She was right about that, and he didn’t want to be reminded. 

    “ Can you honestly say pride has nothing to do with your motivations, Alex? ”  He responded flatly,  just a slight inclination of frustration to his tone. His informal black attire contrasted the harsh professional sterility of the room as he walked back and forth in front of her desk, visibly tensed, coiled and unnerved.. He was always the more emotional one of the two of them, more impatient and possibly just a little bit on the jealous side. Where she was naturally gifted, he had to fight with his teeth to earn the same respect for his achievements, and even then it felt empty. He wasn’t a child anymore, praise did nothing for him.

    “ Why else do we do this? Because I can’t remember anymore. ”

viruxlent‌:

Her aim did not waver. Some of the other THINGS she’d encountered had looked normal, too, until they’d whirled around and come at her. Granted, none of them had been talking. 

The gun shook in her hands some, but her finger did not leave the trigger. Keep your booger hook off the bang switch unless you’re pointin’ at somethin’ you’re gonna shoot, came an echo of memory. Well, she was going to shoot, unless –

Wait. 

She backed away slightly, the closing distance between them forcing her to for the sake of comfort, but she swore she recognized this one. Not quite in the same way she’d recognized the mailman, or the next door neighbor, or the nice old man who always walked through the neighborhood when all of the above had come at her in that snarling, stumbling charge. This was a more vague sense of familiarity, but she seldom forgot a face. 

“…You’re a cop.” 

She kept her weapon pointed at him still, caught in a strange middle ground between that guy is a monster and don’t point things at the police. When he stopped, it did little to dissuade the former notion, though she also ceased her backward retreat. 

“You look like one of those things back there,” she began warily. “How are you STILL TALKING?”

Wesker simply blinked, confusion playing across his (blood-stained) features. He did just get risen from the dead, plus he was soaked in his own fluids and that of various zombies. He couldn't imagine he looked very appealing right then, but she was equating him to one of them. Are kids really too stupid to tell the difference between a living, breathing person and a rotting corpse?

    “ Just calm down…”  he muttered, his thought process still bogged down by the fact that he felt like he was just put through a fucking meat grinder. He stared blankly at her as he searched his memory for a name, or something besides a serial number that he could use to convince her not to put a bullet in him. She was that unforgettably hyperactive little ginger lab rat he worked on so many times when she was a baby, and he knew he ran into her at least once at the station some years ago— what the hell was her name?

    “ S..Sarah, isn't it? You remember me don't you? ”

@apexworthy

The man only scoffed, pausing in what he was doing and shifting on his feet, light glinting off the fine-woven Kevlar jacket that had no identifying logos or markers on it.

     “ …I’d think twice before giving me an order, son. ” he responded rather quietly, but his tone held a dangerous weight.

Purely on sense, he counted each man and their position behind him, internally calculating and running thorough the possible outcomes if he were to attack, surrender, run. He didn’t move, didn’t turn around, didn’t allow them even a glimpse of his face.

After carefully considering his options, he came to the bitter realization he was… at a disadvantage, to put it gently. The very thought brought a sour taste to his mouth, but even in his unsurpassed arrogance he knew that he couldn’t move fast enough to take them all out without sustaining a heavy amount of damage first–  and even with his healing rate, multiple machine guns at point blank range would tear him apart faster than his body could repair.

Lips twitching into a frown, Wesker slowly relaxed his grip, letting the gun clatter to the floor as his gloved hands raised in apparent surrender.

     “ I’ve never heard of you…” he remarked. “ Seems like there’s more of these obscure organizations popping up every day. When are you pitiful humans going to realize the futility of your cause and accept DEFEAT? ”

[Umbrella Corporation] I can’t stop thinking about Wesker’s maniacal laugh in RE4.

     “ Now who said anything about trust, Chris? I wasn’t giving you a choice. ”  the dark voice droned behind a crack of a grin threatening to form– a large, gloved hand darting out and gripping the brunet’s jaw with almost enough force to crack bone, if he wasn’t so carefully restraining himself.

Tipping the cup to his lips, he forced as much of the liquid into the stubborn man’s mouth as he could as he watched the defiant fire in Chris’s eyes mix against his own hellish shade of molten-orange, and the shark-like smile finally split his face. 

     “ If I were you, I’d swallow down all that pride of yours, Chris. It may be the only chance you get for a while. ”

Had to crap something out for Code Veronica’s 20th. Gimme burnt boi Wesker running away in defeat

@viruxlent

Cobwebs, echoes of memories, and emptiness laced the empty estate Albert resided in now. After all the fighting, all the wars—it's over. The Redfields, Leon Kennedy, Jill Valentine everyone, they were all done with it all, and so was the once-crazed scientist.

That's why the sound of a vehicle driving up to the abandoned mansion was practically thunderous. The car grew quiet as the creak of a door opened, then the clack of heels climbing up stone stairs resonated against the walls. A gentle knock followed up, along with an all-too familiar soothing voice,

"Wesker~?"

The mansion was even older than him and just as worn down. Wesker looked far too young for his age, time only showing through his tired eyes, his antiquated tastes, and his lack of desire to properly maintain anything he owned; furniture collecting dust and vines threatening to reclaim most of the outside of the building.

He tilted his head toward the door, a slight flutter disturbing his chest as he heard the hum of an engine crunching the gravel of what was left of his driveway. He couldn’t think who would be visiting him. His home was so secluded that it wasn’t even on the map. That was the point, to be left alone.

He held the doorknob in a light grip, waiting for a significant amount of time before slowly pulling the door open with an obnoxious creak, his eyes wide behind the signature pair of shades, blond strands of hair uncharacteristically strewn over his forehead. He gazed blankly at the woman on his doorstep, like he was looking at some hallucination of a person he never thought he’d see again.

    “ ...Eno? ”

viruxlent‌:

Hawker withdraws – practically RECOILS, as if she’s fully expecting him to just wind up and deck her again. (She is). However, what he’s getting at now…she’d rather get popped in the head ten times than this. No, a hundred. 

Her throat tightens, and she swallows hard in an effort to clear it before she responds. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she responds, in a whisper – because if she puts actual vocalization behind it, it’ll be shaking, at the mention of that name. It’s touched a nerve, that much is certain, and she hopes the sudden heat she feels in her face isn’t visible. “Leave him alone. He has nothing to do with this.”

For a split second, she imagines lashing out suddenly, catching the son of a bitch across the face with a good hit. Maybe she’d go for his eyes. Would she be quick enough? Probably not. It’s one of many reasons she doesn’t do it. Instead she stares at the door (anything but him), feverishly trying to come up with some way out of this. 

“They’re gonna know I’m gone,” she adds, almost threateningly, then amends it. “Both of us.”

A massive fist slams down on the table, just beside her head. The calm facade breaks for just a moment.  “ He has EVERYTHING to do with this. ”  Wesker hisses.

    “ They won’t miss you-- you’re nobody. Chris, maybe... but everyone’s expendable. They’ll put a big KIA stamp on his file and move on to the next wide-eyed recruit willing to give their life to the futile cause. That’s how your precious BSAA operates. Wouldn’t be surprised if they already have your replacements lined up. ”