ditto

The worst thing about leaving Umbrella wasn’t the fear or the guilt the followed after the disaster that was Raccoon City. It was the waiting. Waiting for the knock. Waiting for the phone call. Waiting for someone from the old world to find you.

The DSO had done their best. New identity. New town. A quiet apartment above a laundromat in a place so small it barely appeared on maps. You worked night shifts now as a nurse.

Hospitals were safe places for people like you. Places where questions weren't asked if someone had medical experience because of how understaffed it was.

Still… every time the automatic doors opened behind you, your chest tightened. Because you knew something most people didn’t.

Nothing connected to Umbrella can ever be truly lost or forgotten. One day, somehow, someway, someone other than the DSO will be curious. Even years later.

Tonight, in particular, felt wrong. Though, for the past few weeks, you'd been having this unsettled feeling that you were being watched. You were assured absolutely nothing was out of the ordinary. That you were safe. So you tried your best to ignore that feeling.

The hospital corridors were quiet, lit by the tired flicker of fluorescent lights. Rain tapped softly against the windows while you sorted patient charts behind the nurse's desk.

Almost painfully normal. Until the temperature dropped. It was subtle. A creeping chill that brushed along the back of your neck. Then the lights flickered.

Once.

Twice.

And the hallway monitor screen filled with static.

Your stomach sank. Not because of the malfunction. But because a memory surfaced uninvited.

A man leaning over a microscope in Umbrella’s underground labs.

Dark hair falling around his face. Long fingers adjusting a specimen slide. Not just you had admired him, everyone did.

Dr. Victor Gideon was brilliant. Quiet. Intimidating in that calm way people get when they’re always five steps ahead of everyone else.

You’d once told him that. Among other stupid things when someone has a small crush. He hadn’t smiled. But he had looked at you like you were a specimen he hadn't finished studying.

Suddenly, the elevator at the end of the hall chimed, and immediately, you felt the light hairs on the back of your neck stand up as your head whipped over over your shoulder.

You watched as the doors slid open slowly, and someone stepped out. For a moment, your brain refused to process what you were seeing. Because the man who stepped into the hallway was too tall. He quite literally had to duck slightly beneath the elevator frame.

His long snake-skin trench coat brushed the floor benesth him as he advanced toward you with slow, deliberate steps. Your pulse immediately spiked.

He tilted his head.

And smiled, proudly displaying golden teeth.

“Hello, sweet thing.” The voice was soft. Almost warm. Completely wrong coming from something that large. Why did it sound familiar?

His hand rose to the mechanical visor strapped across his eyes, the lenses whirring faintly as they focused on you. “You look well.”

Your legs moved before your brain did. You turned— And then was slammed straight into the wall as a massive hand caught the front of your uniform.

Cold.

God—

His hand was freezing. His fingers knotted in the collar of your scrubs, wrenching the fabric tight so his icy knuckles pressed against the skin of your chest as he held you still.

He bent slightly so his face was level with yours. The forked tip of his tongue flicked briefly across his gold teeth as he watched with blatant pleasure at your disoriention.

His visor lenses clicked softly as they adjusted. “Heart rate elevated,” he murmured thoughtfully. “Pupil dilation… significant.”

Then, he removed the visor. The device folded with a mechanical hiss as he let it hang around his neck. “Missed me, didn't you, hm?”

Wait. You almost didn't recognise him. But those eyes... you know those eyes. Your voice finally came back. “…Victor?”

For a moment, something flickered across his expression, amusement perhaps. You're not entirely sure. You never could read him.

“Doctor Gideon,” he corrected. Then his smile widened, “Though I suppose we've known each other long enough to dispense with titles.”

Your brows furrowed and rose in blatant shock, “Y-you’re supposed to be dead.”

“Yes.” He hummed softly. A pause. “That was the expectation.”

His gaze drifted slowly over your face like he was reacquainting himself with something he once misplaced. “You destroyed quite a lot of valuable research when you left Umbrella.”

His voice remained conversational, almost polite, as he continued, “But I forgave you.”

Your throat tightened. “You shouldn’t have come here. The DSO-”

A quiet chuckle interrupted you.

It was soft enough that it shouldn’t have been distracting, but the sound caught you completely off guard. You’d never heard him laugh before.

And somehow, that made it worse. Because clearly the man you knew didn't just change physically.

His enormous hand loosened on your collar and drifted to your throat, “You misunderstand.” he murmured, his thumb dragged over the flesh just below your jaw where your pulse still fluttered erratically. He didn't squeeze, but he didn't allow any room for you to think you could escape.

“I didn’t come here to punish you.” The forked tongue flicked again as he smiled down at you. “I came to retrieve you.”

Your stomach dropped.

“You always were… more intelligent than the rest of them.” His voice softened, almost nostalgic. “I regret not telling you that sooner.”

Suddenly, his fingers around your throat tightened, the thick bands of his rings cut into your throat. Your breath left you in a sharp panicked gasp as your hands came up to try pry him off.

“Oh how Umbrella wasted you,” He cooed gently, “but fortunately, I no longer work for Umbrella.”

Outside, thunder rolled across the sky. You whimpered.

“Shh,” he murmured as a second broad hand slid beneath your arm and across your back, pulling you securely against his chest. The cold of him seeped through your uniform as the world faded to black.