Doodles And Ramblings From The RE universe!

“Fuck… you…”

December 1998.

“You can still join me.” It was said almost like an after-thought, a breathless murmur through thin, parted lips. Wesker had Chris by the throat, a habit that seemed to become normal in the past few hours. Chris made a half-assed attempt at whipping his head around to meet the monsters’ gaze, but it was shotty considering his predicament.

This close up, he could see the mans’ eyes through the tinted lens. No longer the sharp, cold blue Chris remembered, but now colored like lava, with pupils so dilated that you could only see a black circle with a ring of red.

“What...!” Chris croaked, scratching and clawing at Wesker’s forearms. There should be marks, God, there should be blood spilling with how hard Chris was digging his fingers into the skin. But nothing, the skin would be red for a second, only to recede to nothing. What are you?!

“I can still make use of you.” He continued with much more conviction this time,” You’ve always had more potential than the rest of them. You were always meant for more.”

Wesker said it like it was the fact of the universe, like the past twenty-five years of Chris’s, life fighting to keep what he loved alive, digging out a name for himself in the dirt, finding a place to belong, and the group of people that gave him that place, were nothing but stepping stones. Worthless, with no other purpose but to bring Chris to Wesker. The monster must have seen the incredulous look on Chris’s face and made a move. He let go of Chris’s throat, but that quick feeling of hope was dashed against the proverbial rocks, when Wesker grabbed Chris’s wrists and shoved them to the wall above his head.

“Think of it, Chris, Umbrella at our feet, revenge for all they’ve done to us.”

In all of Chris’s life, very few things have made him want to kill. Defending himself was one thing, protecting ran in his blood, but few circumstances dictated murder as the only way of resolving conflict. But a lot had changed in the past half year, and Chris felt his trigger finger itch. “Yeah… Usefulness… that’s why you want me back.” Chris didn’t recognize the venom in his voice; it sounded like someone completely different. He steeled his expression. “What? Did you miss me that much? You're making a fool of yourself.” Wesker grimaced, but didn’t let go. Ok, Chris thought, I’ll need to be bolder than that.

Chris moved his head forward as far as he could, until his lips were as close to his ear as he could get them to Weskers’ ear, Chris registered that Wesker didn’t move to stop him. He was almost entranced.

“Did you miss what I gave you” Wesker took in a shaky breath, tightening his hold on Chris’ wrists, it felt like they were going to shatter. “And I thought you said you didn’t need anyone.”

“Huh… Four months of no one hanging on your every word… it must have been agony.” Before Chris realized what was happening, he was being thrown aside, flung halfway across the room. A punched out laugh fell from his lips as he got up, one leg at a time, just as planned, you jackass. Wesker was still around where he had Chris against the wall, but now he was cracking his knuckles and walking with purpose towards where Chris ended up.

“Let me make… Something…abundantly… clear.” Chris said, still catching his breath, putting his arms into a defensive position. Wesker noticed, letting his excitement be known, his smile plain to see.

“That was then, this is now.” It seemed like the venom was now a permanent part of Chris’ voice as he stood to his full height, ready for whatever came next.

“You’ve made yourself into a monster, and you now have an intimate understanding of what I do to monsters.”

✕✕✕ March, 2009.

“Chris? ...CHRIS!!” Chris was ripped from his memory by Sheva, going from light tapping on the shoulder to shaking his arm. He also ripped his eyes away from the elevator doors. He turned to face her, her eyes filled with worry… but also a grim determination, a look that seemed to seep into her eyes when she realized that all she had left to do… was fight.

It showed when they found what was left of Josh’s team, when the weight of Chris’ true mission settled into her bones on the airboat, and when she realized that the person who did this to her home was not a defenseless woman in golden heels, but a monster that could throw her across the room, and made even the great Chris Redfield paralyzed with fear. Chris swallowed.

“Yeah… uh, yeah what?” Chris stuttered, wiping his hands on his tactical pants, he was truly realizing how caked he was in sweat, dust, and blood. Sheva didn’t let go of his arm, but it was now simply there to ground him, a soft reminder that whatever happened before she showed up wasn’t happening right now. He couldn’t help but think of Claire.

“Are you going to be okay?” she stressed, saying the words slow and clearly, like a rescuer talks to a scared child. Chris could honestly cry.