ARRO

“I’m told you had the highest result in fitness exam,” Wesker declared, a curl to his lips and a disdain in his voice. David felt as if he was an ant being spoken to by a sadistic child with a magnifying glass. Wesker might have been taller - and if the rumours were correct artificially strong - but David knew if he punched Wesker in the jaw and knocked his sunglasses to the ground he could take advantage of the situation easily. That being said, right now all he could do was submit.

“That’s what I’m told, Sir.” David swallowed, he didn’t like this.

“You’re English,” Wesker pressed, which threw David a little. It seems this is a ‘state the obvious’ competition, he thought.

“Yes, Sir.” David paused, Wesker stared expectantly. “Manchester. Specifically.” David could vaguely see a vague outline of Wesker’s eyes through his sunglasses - trick he picked up from dodging the security his parents kept on his childhood home. He saw Wesker look at David’s identification for a second and smirk.

“Ah, you’re one of the famous Manchester Kings.” Wesker’s face was far too difficult to read to figure out if he meant that as a positive or negative.

“Not many people this side of the Atlantic know us.” A safe answer? David wondered, nothing felt safe around this arsehole, he thought.

“I’m from Oxford.” Of course you are, David thought. “My Father, I suppose, played rugby with Howard King.” Such a comment from Wesker made David’s spine straighten, he’d not heard that name in a while. He swallowed and flexed his fingers, faster than before.

“That’s my dad,” David mumbled, his cheeks turning a slight shade of pink.

“Is that so? Hm.” If Wesker already knew that then he hid it well. “And how did you end up here?”

“Preferred using my fists to running the family business.”

“Ah, I see.” Wesker stopped and had an odd look on his face that David couldn’t read. “I have a job for you.”

“Erm, I’m supposed to be training the new lad-” David cleared his throat. “-the rookie.”

“Someone else will do it, this is far more important. Come with me.” Wesker didn’t wait for an answer, and simply turned, gesturing for David to follow. Which meant he could scowl and roll his eyes at Wesker’s elitism.

“Yes, Sir.” David looked back over his shoulder towards his team who’d mostly scattered to talk amongst themselves. Carlos was stood chatting and seemed fine, David didn’t like leaving him but it couldn’t he helped. He followed Wesker, even though he felt the familiar tense nausea in his gut. It almost felt as if the contents of his stomach would run even if David wouldn’t.

Wesker didn’t even look back to ensure David was following him nor did he bother to make conversation as they went through a door that required an identification far above David’s… something which made him feel uneasy in itself. The lack of official protocol being taken here made him wonder who authorised this. Eventually after they walked down several steel staircases in white halls that looked the same they reached another “authorised personnel only” door.

When entering David instantly knew he was looking at an observation room from his stints as a security guard. It was dark with a few seats and a desk all pointed at a sheet of glass, when his gaze reached the window however David’s joints became stiff as if ice had fused them together. An old boxing injury in his left shoulder stung, his hands turned into fist instinctively although he knew fighting wouldn’t get him out of this scenario. Or maybe it would. That was the worst part, he had no idea what he was looking at. He stared into the white room beyond the glass at the creature pacing back and forth, David’s eyes followed it as his chest heaved up and down.

The creature’s head brushed up against the high ceiling making him well over ten foot tall by David’s estimation, his body looked like an entire rugby team blended together. Its skin was mottled and rotten, but not rotten at all. It was clean, and healthy, as far as David could tell but it looked like the creature’s body was made up of leather from a human being. One that had been dead awhile then tanned. Suddenly it stopped pacing, turned to David, looked him up and down, then kept going. That is what horrified him most of all, the knowledge that this thing had perceived him. It decided David was worth ignoring for now but what if that changed.

“What… is that?” He eventually asked, being too anxious to hide his shaking voice.

“That is Nemesis-T type, a surgical implantation of NE-α Type into a T-103 body.” Wesker sounded proud, his voice smooth and a cruel smile on his lips.

“I’ll take your word for it,” David grunted.

“Ah yes.” Wesker clicked his tongue, was he disappointed? “I had hoped your parents would have afford you a proper education but sadly not.” Had David not been so anxious he’d have ignored the comment that had been dripping with snark and an elitist, classism he did not miss about England. David turned to Wesker and stared directly into his face as David retorted:

“Education is an admirable thing, but it is well to remember from time to time that nothing that is worth knowing can be taught.” Wesker stated at him, his lips parted as he stepped backwards, before he could respond David continued. “Oscar Wilde. He wrote it in A Few Maxims for the Instruction of the Over-Educated, for the Saturday review in 1894… I would have thought you’d have got a better education down in Oxford.”

“I- You-” Wesker scoffed and folded his arms, his unreadable face had the slightest frown. David repressed a chuckle and a smug smile. “Anyway, more to the point: you are going to be leading the team that guards my creation.”

“I- You what?” David spluttered, far more casually than he normally would. “Why does that thing need guarding?”

“It doesn’t.” Wesker scowled, clearly disliking the flippant language. “This room does. The work inside it does. When that ‘thing’ is transferred to different buildings it does.”

“Right.”

“You won’t be needed constantly, especially not when you have your team put together, but you will be on call.” Wesker sounded slight cheered up, David had no doubt that it was his own repulsion and fear that did it. “Remember I do outrank your superior officer, King.”

“Yes. Of course. Sir.” David stood to attention as he said it, which seemed to cause Wesker to be soothed somewhat. Although, David expected he’d have a summons for a disciplinary waiting for him when he got back to his bunk. Wesker didn’t respond for a moment, staring at David whose eyes kept flickering to Nemesis-T Type likely had a tinge of green in his complexion as he thought he was about to vomit.

“Good. Since I’m a generous man and I can see how much my work disturbs you for now, go back to your men, when your team is put together, you will be summoned.” Wesker chuckled to himself as David’s shoulders relaxed and he exhaled, an unintentional reaction but the fear building up in his chest needed to get out somehow.