She/Her. I like to sleep all day, eat trash all night and hiss. I write stuff. I nerd out. BIG animal lover. Wildlife rehabilitator. Resident Evil Loremaster. Published Author. Creator of characters and worlds. I obsess over pixalated characters. You'll mostly find writing, Resident Evil, and nerd stuff here, lots of video games and animals. Always obsessing over Albert Wesker, and I am NOT sorry for this! :P
From Gloves to Fingers: The Ghoul and Lucy MacLean
Despite their mostly practical usage nowadays, gloves used to be a powerful tool in society. There were rules about how and when a person should wear them, and what messages they relayed to others. Gloves were more than a fashion accessory; they had symbolic functions. Across various sources, such as visual media, art, and literature, gloves are associated with notions about power, protection, purity, as well as sexuality.
In the following analysis, I will examine the Ghoulâs gloves in Fallout (2024) as a visual key to understanding his character, motivations, and relationship with Lucy.Â
What if I told you that the first thing we see about the Ghoul, his introduction to us, is his gloved hand?
His character is shrouded in mystery, and his gloves facilitate this impression. When a character hides their hands, we assume they have secret or evil intentions. Thatâs why gloves have come to be associated with villains. And at first glance at this character, this assumption would not be far from the truth. But in the Ghoulâs case, itâs more complicated than that. Letâs roll back to the beginning!
As soon as we learn that the Ghoul used to be the famous Hollywood actor Cooper Howard, and the face of Vault-Tec, we start to make the connections. For instance, we know he refuses to do the thumbs-up for the photo during the birthday party. The thumbs-up, his thumbs-up in particular, is a symbol for Vault-Tec, a company he has grown to despise. So it isnât surprising that he would try to conceal his relation to the company, figuratively and physically.
Two hundred years later, we learn about the nature of ghouls. Radiation has ravaged their skin and appearance. In this case, the gloves might serve the cosmetic purpose of hiding most of his scarred body.Â
However, it all comes down to the image he presents to the world around him. His gloves, and his hat, are accessories for the costume heâs chosen to wear. He doesnât go around by the name of Cooper Howard anymore; he has built himself a new identity, using props just like an actor would. He is recognizable by these attributes and they are a makeshift armor for the real man underneath it. Iâd even argue that his gloves act as a physical and psychological shield between him and the atrocities heâd committed to survive.
Now that weâve discussed the symbolism of him wearing gloves, itâs time to ask the important question. Do we see the Ghoulâs ungloved hands? We do. Two times. And both of them are connected to Lucy: one in her presence, one in the presence of her finger.
The first time we see the Ghoulâs ungloved hands is after the significant scene of him mercy killing Roger and feeding on him in front of Lucy. The fact that Lucy witnessed him eat, not just any food but human flesh, is extremely important. In that scene, he reveals his animalistic nature. Itâs an intimate scene because he begins her initiation into the Wasteland by offering her his knife to cut off some pieces herself. In a way, he shares his meal with her. Her repulsion is clear but she relents. Itâs important to keep this scene in mind.
Cut to the scene with him with no gloves. At this point, heâs shown her a part of himself. In the past, the removal of gloves was a sign of closeness, and even inferiority. He has shed his skin, literally in the form of his gloves. He has allowed himself to be vulnerable in her presence. Heâs naked in a way we havenât seen before. Itâs no wonder what happens next has so many sexual undertones.
To put it plainly, in this scene we see the Ghoul relishing the taste of irradiated water while Lucy is right next to him⌠thirsty. Itâs an interesting juxtaposition to a previous scene when Lucy politely asked for water but he denied her (with his gloves on, retaining a metaphorical barrier, an air of superiority). She then saw the pool of water but resisted drinking from it while he taunted her. Now, it seems different. He watches her with a silent challenge in his eyes, tempting. She isnât asking him anything this time. All she sees is the water, the means to quench her thirst, and⌠his ungloved hand.
Personally, I find the choice to include his hand here very interesting. What happens next, even more so; Lucy succumbs to her thirst. In contrast to her hesitation and revulsion with slicing pieces off Roger for food, she eagerly drinks the irradiated water the Ghoul drank moments ago. Itâs a desperate physical need, and itâs out of her own volition. If you donât see anything sexual about this frame, I donât know what to tell you:
Itâs worth mentioning the way the Ghoul stoops to her level here which enables the iconic âOh, Iâm you, sweetie.â Sheâs almost his equal here, as they stare after sheâs drunk the water, their hands ungloved.
Lucy, being ever the opportunist, sees his weakness and tries to run away. Her attempt is short-lived because he catches her in his lasso. And all the build-up ends in one of the most memorable scenes in the show; and for a good reason!
In their struggle, Lucy takes advantage of his exposed hand, his weakness, and bites his finger off. Itâs almost like sheâs turned into him: an animal tearing flesh. The gloves would have protected him against harm but heâs taken them off, he has allowed himself to be vulnerable around her. Perhaps, he underestimated her.
In a violent imitation of a lover's touch, he cuts her finger off. This is the first time they touch hands. In the past, a woman had to be wary of a manâs ungloved hand because it signified danger and the loss of her chastity.
In Lucy's case, chastity refers to her naivety about navigating the world around her. The Ghoul opened her eyes about the surrounding world, but she dared to go one step further and stole something of his, a part of him. For two centuries, he's managed to keep his ten fingers intact, a sign of his competence, and it's none other than Lucy who overpowers him this way. So he feels obliged to take a part of her to replace his missing one. It's very much an exchange of rings/vows type of situation. But I digress.Â
After the finger exchange and the visual replacement of Lucy's finger, which for a second looked to me like adding a band/ring, we see the most significant scene for her character yet. She survives alone in the Super Duper Mart and despite it all, retains her principles, by saving his life. She emerges the victor, both in terms of survival and morals. But how does the exchange affect him?Â
In a rare scene of self-reflection, the Ghoul watches his old human self on film. The gloves are back on and he mimics pulling the trigger, nothing unusual.
But as we watch him rub the leather of his missing finger, we know that something has shifted. Beneath the seemingly intact glove, there is a missing piece. Try as he might to conceal it, and even if it's unnoticeable to others, heâs aware of its absence. Despite the external armor, the damage is internal.
Which brings us to the second scene with his ungloved hands: the scene of him sewing Lucyâs finger on his hand.
The Ghoul is held responsible for the thrashing of the Super Duper Mart. While they question him, he asks for the needle and thread (red thread of fate, anybody?) in his bag. As he unrolls the piece of cloth, we see Lucyâs finger.
Here I want to make an important note: In the past, gloves were considered an extension of the wearerâs body; another symbolic body part. In the classic novel Little Women, Meg loses one of her gloves and it turns out that the man who is interested in her romantically â Mr. Brooke â has hidden it in his pocket. Later, characters would consider this act a declaration of his intentions toward her. The Ghoul has neatly packed away Lucyâs finger in his bag. The subtext is definitely there.Â
In the first scene when he was ungloved, it was in Lucyâs active presence. In this scene, sheâs not here but her presence is felt, and not only because itâs her finger heâs sewing. While he is attaching the finger, he takes the blame for what she did in the Super Duper Mart. He throws away the act for a moment, his hands are ungloved and unprotected, as he surrenders himself in her name. The intimacy of the mere image of him sewing a part of Lucyâs body on his own, literally tying the knot, deserves its own analysis. Â
You could say it fits him like a glove. ;)
This is the last scene we see him without gloves in S1. But every time we see his gloved hand afterward, we are reminded that he carries Lucyâs finger. Itâs a symbol of what Lucy reminded him of: his lost dignity. Itâs his trigger finger, a moral compass. It led to him shooting her dad when she herself wavered, but also letting him go alive. And itâs her replaced necrotic finger which pulls the trigger when she mercy kills her mother, a lesson she learned from him. Their fates have intertwined and their fingers are the perfect representation of that.Â
With the focus on hands and fingers we saw in S1, I expect this symbolic storytelling to continue and expand in S2.
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Summary: Three months after her near-death entanglement with Albert Wesker, Claire Redfield remains fettered to him as both lover and prisoner. As such, he once again pulls her into his dark games of power and control. Adamant at having her all to himself, Wesker's hold on her tightens as he pulls them both towards an unsatiable holy grail. But this is to be just the beginning of what would become an absolute nightmare...
Claire/Wesker, Chris/Jill, slight Claire/Leon and Ada/Leon. (also big focus on Wesker and William's friendship and past). Pre-RE1- Code Veronica time frame.
Chapter 1: Behind Blue Eyes
November 4th, 1971âŚ
âThe world needed your mother. She was essential. To modern science. To the future. Not you. You are disposable. An expedientâŚno, an anathema upon this world.â
His fatherâs last words to him repeated in his head, again and again.Â
Then he was left behind at this strange facility with all the white coats.
That was after spending his birthday two days ago flying across the Atlantic Ocean to the United States.
Chicago, he recalled. Thatâs where he was. A research facility in Chicago. His father had spoken with the man in charge hereâŚsomething about compensation for his âparticipationâ. Anything to get that funding he always talked about for his researchâŚ
The doctors here poked and prodded him. Drew a lot of blood. Ran numerous tests. Nothing he wasnât used to.
The young boy sat on an examination table in a small white-walled room for what felt like hours, the lights irradiant, just like the rooms he had often found himself in back home. The brightness hurt his eyes. He winced and squeezed his blue eyes shut. If he didnât, he felt he would go blind.
He didnât bother checking the door. He knew it would be locked. Everything in his life was controlled. When he could eat, when he could sleep, when he could leave.
Isolated. All alone. Although that wasnât anything new. He had always felt this way. His father abandoned him years ago, even if he had seen him every day of his life up until now.
AnathemaâŚanathema, he thought over and over. He knew the word. A curse. Abomination. Something consigned for sacrificial offering and destruction.
The door opened. Instead of the usual apathy that accompanied him, always knowing it to be his father, a fleeting anxiety passed through him as two strangers entered.
One was the man in charge here his father had spoken to for âcompensationâ. He was quite important, a lord heâd overheard, but the boy knew nothing of who he was. The other man was a doctor and seemed to be friends with the lord. They both looked to be in their late 40s, although it was just a guess.
The lord wore a proud, triumphant smile, looking the boy over as though he was a prize of sorts.
âHello, Albert,â he greeted politely, kneeling beside the boy. âItâs an honor to finally meet your acquaintance. I am a longstanding colleague of your father, Andric. My name is Lord Ozwell Spencer, but you may call me Ozwell.â
The lord extended his hand. Albert stared at it. Clean, soft skin. No scars. No calluses. There was a big ring with a familiar crest on its face. It made his head hurt as he tried to recall where heâd seen it. They had never met before, but the boy felt this man somehow knew all about him. He didnât take the offered palm. The smile was camouflage, the handshake a venomous bite.
Ozwellâs British accent carried a mix of elegance and power. It was more evident than Albertâs fatherâs accent, which had lost much of its original Germanic cadence from working in England.
The lord didnât seem displeased when Albert didn't take his hand. He softly chuckled, his eyes still not leaving the boy. âStrong, silent type, I see. I like that in a young man.â He motioned to Albertâs face. "Did you get into a fight at school?â
He was so used to it that Albert had forgotten all about it. âMy father never appreciated me challenging him.â Albert glared at the lord. âTell me, did my father get his just compensation for dropping me at this hellhole?â
Ozwell glanced back at the doctor with a pleased smirk. His friend didnât smile back, looking more surprised than anything, and scribbled on his clipboard.
âI assure you, young man, that âcompensationâ was for something elseâŚsomething before you were born that I owed him. His research is valuable to my company. And so we thought it best I take you in for a bit so he could work away on a very important enterprise.â
Why did adults always lie? Did they think him gullible?
âSomething tells me you arenât so heartbroken over it,â Ozwell said softly, offering the boy a friendly, reassuring smile. âTrust me, youâll be far happier here. My dear friend Dr. Hensley will just run a few more tests to make sure you are in good health, and then we can get you situated, alright?â
Albert didnât bother nodding or answering. He didnât have a choice. They escorted him through the bright, winding hallways of the medical facility. His head hurt. He spotted other children here but never crossed paths with them.
âAre you alright, Albert?â Ozwell asked.
âThe lights hurt my eyes.â
The lord slowly nodded, seemingly logging it away with a quick side glance at Dr. Hensely.
When they got to their destination, it wasnât another patient room, it was a fully functioning laboratory, similar to his fatherâs. They took him into the back where Dr. Hensley carefully performed a set of tests, including drawing more blood. Afterwards, he was left alone so they could talk in the room next door.
Albert hopped down from his seat and padded over to the cracked door to eavesdrop.
âI told you he was a beautiful specimen, didnât I?â Ozwell stated. âIâm eager to see him as an adult after the indoctrination and training. He will be the perfect candidate for the next evolution of my project. Tell me the results youâve received.â
âHeâs in impeccable health, my Lord,â Dr. Hensley answered. âHeâs developing how we had anticipated and his new genetic screening results are what you were hoping for.â
âPerfect to pair with Alex in the future, then?â
Alex? His sister heâd recently found out about? Pair with her how?
âWithout a doubt. However, I am concerned with his lack of socialization and interpersonal skills.â
âHe was raised that way on purpose. Donât worry, heâll gain those with James.â The lord paused, thinking, and then asked, âWas the light sensitivity listed before on his genetics? This is the first Iâve heard of it.â
Dr. Hensely shook his head. âNo, but itâs a common condition when breeding for the Aryan characteristics that you desire. Nothing to be concerned about.â
âDoes he remember anything outside of Andric?â
âHe does recall the boarding school with the other Wesker children, but not enough that concerns me. The mind manipulation and synthetic memories are solid. If we continue doing what we are doing, he will never remember it all on his own.â
What?!
âExcellent,â Ozwell praised. âStart the next process immediately. Iâm leaving for home to meet with Lord Ashford, Lord Henry, and Lord Beardsley tomorrow. James has already been informed and has prepared for Albert to stay with him. Just make sure to wipe his memories of the last few days and reprogram him before handing him over.â
âAs you wish, my Lord.â
âAnd I mean it, Theodore. The utmost care and diligence in handling Albert. His value is beyond estimation. He is one of the most important assets of our future.â
Asset? His father had called him the oppositeâŚyet the same, gut-churning feeling came from the word. The same bad taste in his mouth as though he was just something to be used. A tool, a weapon, but in the end, thrown away.Â
Panicking, the boy raced to the door, knowing full well it would be locked. He turned the knob and tugged on it anyway. I have to get out of here!Â
It didn't budge. Trapped like always.
He didnât want to forget. He didnât want his mind manipulated. He didnât want to be controlled. Ruled. If only he was strongerâŚ
What had he done to deserve this? His fatherâs voice played in his head, blaming him for his motherâs death, day after day after day. Was it that? He didnât mean for it to happen!
Albert moved away from the door when Ozwell and Dr. Hensely emerged from the back room. The boy pretended to be interested in the x-rays on the wall, feigning composure.
âWell, Albert, my boy,â the lord sighed, the same creepy smile and watchful eyes on him, âI must take my leave. I have important duties to attend. Dr. Hensely will take good care of you. Please behave for him. I'll see you soon.â
Albert stayed silent, a growing knot of disgust and hatred twisting in his stomach. He thinks I belong to him. Iâm not his. I donât belong to anyone!
After Ozwell left, Dr. Hensely patted the examination table with a warm smile. âOkay, buddy. Just one shot and youâre good to go! Iâm sure youâre ready to get out of here. We have a nice room and meal ready for you.â
Albert didnât move. It came rushing back to him. The shot wasnât an immunization of any sort. It was to put him to sleep. Then he wouldnât remember when he awoke.
Theyâve done this to me beforeâŚmultiple times. He couldnât recall how many. It was all too fuzzy. His head pounded.
Albert shook his head. âNo.â
Dr. Hensely was surprised by his answer, putting his clipboard down and rubbing the back of his head. âOh come now, Albert. Surely a strong, brave young man such as yourself isnât afraid of a little immunity boost?â
âLiar,â Albert hissed. âIt's anesthesia. You want to knock me out and make it so I donât remember.â
âW-What? No! Thatâs absurd! Iâm only here to help you.â
The boy refused to move, glaring at the doctor.
Dr. Hensely sighed. âLook boy, youâre doing this whether you want to or not. Itâs out of your control. Either you come over here willingly or I have thirty employees outside this room that will hold you down. You wouldn't want another blackeye, would you? So which one is it?â
Albert kept his challenging gaze, one fist balled, his chest a tight knot. No choice. No control. They controlled him. They did own him.
Never breaking eye contact, Albert slowly approached the doctor and sat on the examination table. Dr. Hensely, tense and agitated, let out a deep breath and picked up the syringe.
âGet used to the fact that you will never be in control, kid. Thatâs how it is here. Iâm sorry.â
You will be sorryâŚ
He had to remember. No matter what. He couldnât let them do this to himâŚagain.
Dr. Hensely leaned in and injected Albertâs arm with the drug. The boy winced, glaring at the doctor in growing hatredâŚuntil he snatched up a scalpel on the nearby tool tray, and stabbed it into Hensleyâs jugular vein.
Blood sprayed all over Albert just as the world started to spin. Dr. Hensely crashed backwards onto the floor with an agonized cry, gripping his throat.
Just before the world went black, Dr. Hensely bled out all over the floor in front of him. He heard the gurgled curses, felt the warm blood that drenched him, tasted it in his mouth. None of those things compared to the satisfying rush of power and victory he felt in that moment. He had overthrown a ruler. He could conquer them. He would conquer them all.
He shouldâve done it to his father, but it was a start. They would not be able to suppress his awakening forever. One day the blinders would be removed and he would rememberâŚand then everyone would be sorry.
The blue eyes, astute and austere, burned into his very soul, seemingly reading his deepest, darkest thoughts. The smile, proud and valiant, hid depravity within an invisible mask of dignity and power.
He couldnât understand this feeling of being revolted by this man, yet, concurrently, being drawn to him.
âAlbert?â
Albert looked away from the eerie oil painting of Lord Ozwell E. Spencer, not realizing he had lost himself in thought under the sharp gaze. He glanced up at Dr. James MarcusâŚhis new guardian. The man was in his fifties with graying brown hair and wore a brown suit. Composed and shrewd, he was a bit harder to read compared to most adults for Albert. He still didnât know what to think about his new guardian, but for better or for worse, the boy was stuck with him. For now.
It had been a long week. His father had dropped him off here in the States to live with Dr. Marcus, although he couldnât remember much of the trip or the days after. Has jet lag affected me this acutely before? James had briefly shown him around the large mansion that belonged to Ozwell, before proceeding to the Umbrella Executive Training School. Apparently, James resided here in his laboratory, with his own living quarters, which is where Albert would mostly be staying. Soon, he would be attending the school as well.
James approached Albert when he didnât move, he himself looking upon the portrait.
âMy dear old friend,â James said with a wry smile. âHeâs done so much for meâŚhe will do a lot for you as well, Albert. Just remember he is the same as the Snake in the Garden of Eden. Watch his tongueâŚand certainly watch his bite.â
Albert wasnât religious by any means, but he knew the stories. âYou attribute your friend to the Devil?â
James smirked down at him, delighted. âBetter to acknowledge youâre friends with the Devil than to deny it. Come along. Thereâs someone you need to meet.â
Albert hesitated, his eyes lowering to the floor. His polished shoes matched the equally polished floors of the school. His head hurt so bad. He tried to remember what happened before coming here, but it was all a haze. He recalled his father on the plane. He had said something to him before leaving. He just couldnât remember what. Ozwell had told him his accommodations were temporary before handing him over to James, but this didnât feel temporary.
âMy father isnât coming back for meâŚis he?â
James paused, frowning. He considered his next words. âNo. He got what he wanted out of you. And in time, so will Ozwell and myself. But no worries, my boy. You are where you are meant to be. Trust me. In time, you will make them all pay. Iâll show you how.â
What an interesting response from an adult. Albert then followed him closer than he had on the whole tour. James led them to his living quarters nestled adjacent to the laboratory of the training school. It was a nice-sized apartment, modern and cleanâŚa little more room than what Albert and his father were accustomed to.
âWilliam, come out here,â James called. âThereâs someone here you need to meet.â
Albert looked around the living room. Spacious. Hardwood floors. Brand new furniture. Paintings and photos adorning the walls. It hardly looked lived in. There was a wall dedicated to a trip to Africa and Jamesâ doctorates. He settled on an intriguing photograph full of beautiful red and gold flowers with peculiar shaped petals, nothing like he had ever seen before.
Soft footsteps rushed into the living room. When Albert turned around, he was surprised to see another boy, having expected William to be an adult. The boy was smaller than him, maybe a year or two younger, with short blonde hair and blue eyes, just like him.
William looked just as surprised to see Albert as he was to see him, but the shock quickly turned into a big, toothy grin and he nearly hopped over to Albert in excitement.
âNo way! You got me a brother?!â
âWilliam, settle down. I donât care what you call yourselves. Just get along. William this is Albert, Albert this is William. Youâll be roommates so get used to each other. I have to make a phone call.â
He was never informed there would be someone else while living with James, let alone someone his age.
Albert tensed and moved away when William eased closer with hushed excitement, especially now since it was only them. Albert had never mingled with other kids before and was unsure of the formalities.
âNice to meet you, Albert! Can I call you Bert? Oooh, how about Al? I like Al!â
âNo. Just Albert,â he grumpily answered, already irritated with the other boyâs whimsical behavior.
âI like your accent Al, are you not from the U.S.? Youâll like it here. James is alright, I guess, but the school is amazing! Iâm the youngest child prodigy to be studying under Umbrella!â
This boy was a child prodigy as well? Albert looked him over skeptically. He decided to move away, giving into instinct instead of attempting conversation. He had no clue how to handle this interaction.
William followed, his excitement waning only slightly, instead a mild diffidence forming. âSo uh, where are you from?â
âNot here.â
âWhat happened to your family?â
Albert clenched his jaw. âNone of your business.â
âOh, itâs okay,â William reassured. âIâm an orphan too. Itâs why Iâm with James. Been here for about a year. I never knew my parents.â
When Albert didnât answer, William gasped and ran around to block his path.
âWait a minute! Are you a prodigy too? No wonder James took you in! Oh, this is exciting! Finally, some competition! We could test each otherâs limits and push ourselves further! Granted, thatâs likely why they put us together to begin with, but just think of all the fun it will be. I mean, Iâll probably win, but itâs-â
Albert punched William hard in the nose. Partly to make him shut upâŚmostly to establish dominance.
The younger boy yelped, his nose busted, blood pouring out of his nostrils. He cupped his face, staring at Albert in shock as his eyes watered from the sting. âOw!â
âWell, I just tested the limits of your face, and I must sayâŚyou need some work,â Albert sneered.
âWhat the hell is going on here?!â came Jamesâ angered voice as he rushed into the room, practically yanking the two boys apart.
âIâm fine!â William blurted through his fingers.
Their new guardian sighed, shaking his head. âWhy did I agree to this?â He headed for the door, snapping his fingers at William. âCome along, both of you. William, we need to do an x-ray.â
âOh, itâs definitely broken,â William stated calmly and obediently followed after James.
âAlbert, come,â James ordered in the doorway, glaring back at him.
âHe brought it on himself,â Albert grumbled, and begrudgingly followed.
âDid not!â
âYou did so!â
âBOYS!â
A few months laterâŚ
There was a chill to the air, but Albert was numb to it, lost in thought as he waited. Continuous mumbles soon interrupted his thoughts and he glared over at his âroommateâ.
William had perched himself so he was lying upside down, halfway off the examination table, his blond hair hanging from his head and brushing the tiled floor. His face was turning red from all the blood rushing to his head.
Albert sighed. âWhat are you doing?â
âIâm bored! Why do you have to come for tests more than I do?â
âI donât know, and who said you had to stay behind?â
âAnd go with James to that old person meeting? No thanks! Youâre way more fun, Al.â
âHow fortunate for me.â
The lights were burning his eyes as they waited. He squeezed them shutâŚand tried to tune out William in the process.
Albert was still settling in with James and William. Heâd excelled in the boarding school since day one, enjoying it immensely compared to the one his father had sent him to. As annoying as his little roommate was, Albert found himself minding his company less with each subsequent day. Maybe he was building a tolerance to himâŚor maybe William was growing on him a little, although he refused to admit it.
William started humming, his fidgeting rustling the paper on the exam table. Albert opened his eyes and glared, witnessing his roommate attempting to slide down into a handstand, using the table as a brace to keep his balance.
Albert stood and reached over, grabbing Williamâs leg and yanking. With a startled âAck!â, William toppled over. âYou just had to do it, didnât you,â he groaned as he got to his feet, dusting himself off.
âMy head is killing me. Iâd appreciate it if you stopped being bothersome,â Albert replied, cupping his fingers over his eyes.
âOhhhh, itâs the lights again. Hmm.â William stood there thinking hard, glaring up at the bright lights while rubbing his chin. âI know!â
He headed for the door. The locked door. The one that always contained Albert. âItâs locked.â
âPsh! That doesnât stop the great William Birkin!â
The nine year old prodigy procured a key out of his pocket and unlocked the doorâŚjust like that. Albert jumped to his feet when the door opened. âWhere did you get that?!â
William looked confused at first. âOh. I stole it from James. No locked doors for us, buddy! Come on, I have something for you!â
William stepped out of the room without a care in the world. Albert hesitated at the threshold. The fuzzy memories, the consequences, they stifled him for a moment before William snatched his arm and yanked him forward.
âCome on, slow poke!â
Albert followed William through the hallways. He had most of it memorized now, but was still not as familiar with it as William. The adults didnât pay them much mind, too busy with their own duties down in the executive schoolâs research facility. William slipped into a smaller laboratory and beckoned him to follow.
By the time Albert caught up, William had snatched something off of a researcherâs desk and shoved it into his hands. âThere! Now when youâre in the room with the bright lights, they wonât bother you! And youâll look cool in the process!â
âSunâŚglasses?â
âYeah!â
Albert sighed. âWhose even are these?â
âWho cares? Theyâre yours now! Trust me, he wonât miss them.â William smacked Albertâs shoulder as he headed out. âLetâs get back before they miss us though.â
Albert nodded, slowly following after him, looking the sunglasses over. They looked positively ridiculous to say the least. He wouldnât wear them unless he absolutely had toâŚbutâŚit made him recall that no one bothered to help him with his eyes in all the years he had complained about the pain.
They returned to the patient room to wait. William sat down beside him, a few feet away, as he knew Albert didnât like anyone close to him. But he slowly and quietly inched himself closer, and then presented something else to him when Albert didnât snap at him to move away.
It was the key that unlocked the door. âI have another copy. This key is a master key for most of the facility. IâŚunderstand. Iâve been in locked rooms my whole life, too. But umâŚwe can help each other not be controlled so much by them, yeah?â
Albert slowly took the key, peering at it as though it was invaluable treasure. He nodded silently in reply, squeezing his fingers around the brass.
Wincing from the lights, Albert slipped on the sunglasses. They were too big for him, but they did help tremendously against the bright glare.Â
William tittered next to him. âYou look dashing!â
Albert snorted a suppressed laugh. And honestly, he couldnât remember if he had ever laughed before.
March 19th 1998âŚ
You can wait on me for once, asshole.
Wesker scowled at Claireâs text. It pertained to their established assignation tomorrow. She certainly enjoyed testing his forbearance at times. Not for the first time, he questioned his decision to gift her the PDA for maintaining contact.
His response would have to wait, however. He glanced at his watch after stepping foot into the Circular CafĂŠ near Clock Tower Plaza. It was a popular bistro nestled right on the river. He soon spotted his quarry waiting for him at a booth.
The information broker, Aaron Roth, stared out onto Circular River, the water absorbing the morning hues of golds, purples, and reds. On the other side of the river, Raccoon City was a resplendent backdrop to this first act, towering, shadowy buildings in fresh dawn under a canopy of sun-tinged clouds.Â
Like most prey that had advanced senses to detect prowling predators, Roth caught sight of Wesker halfway towards the booth. Guarded, the broker inched his steaming coffee closer when Wesker sat across from him.
Nothing was said at first, even after Wesker pulled off his shades and stared his emissary down. A young waitress soon arrived at their booth.
âGood morning, Captain! Your usual?â
Wesker broke off his staredown long enough to give the girl two seconds of his time, direct eye contact, an artificial smile, and one nod. âYes, that will do.â
âOn it, sir!â
Wesker leaned back, leering at Roth. âDidnât expect to find yourself back in Raccoon City so soon?â
âYeah, something like that.â
âHow was your trip?â
Roth snorted, half-rolling his eyes while sipping his coffee. âLetâs skip the bullshit smalltalk, yeah?â
âStraightforward and efficient, as always. Good. It plays in your favor to keep me happy. Now proceed.â
Roth picked up a large white envelope that had been lying next to him. He pushed it across the table to his master.
âWell, the confidential data you and Birkin blackmailed out of Bard is correct. Christine Henry does have a secret project in the works. Laboratory Six in Paris. Derived from the Nemesis Project thatâs been around for nearly a decade. Evidence suggests that it is in direct competition with Sergeiâs pet project, T-ALOS. That explains why she wanted all the info on it three months ago.â
Wesker opened the envelope and flipped through the documents enclosed inside. Nemesis T-Type. Yes, this was it.
âAnother tyrant-based project? It seems both Umbrella USA and Umbrella Europe cannot shake their unbridled rivalry.â Wesker enclosed the stolen research safely back inside its envelope. âAll the better for me, I suppose.â
Instead of answering, Roth stared behind him, his usual composure becoming strained. By the time Wesker noticed, it was too late.
âThe nerve you have to meet him here.â
Wesker sighed. âSit, William. And be nice.â
âI was hella nice to Bennett. Iâm still finding pieces of him, by the way,â William growled like a feral cat, and frankly, he kind of looked like one too after three nights underground.
His partner sat beside him, but looked like he wanted to reach across the table and scratch out the eyes of their liaison.
âWill, in just the span of a few months, Aaron has compensated us far over what he stole from you years ago. Let it go.â
âBut he sold it to Alexia.â
Wesker glared at him.
William sighed like an indignant teenager. âFiiiine.â
âHere you are, sir!â came the bubbly voice of their waitress, and she sat Weskerâs coffee in front of him. She then quickly presented William with a wide smile. âDr. Birkin, you too? Do you want your usual?â
âNah, Alâs paying today. So get me three orders of biscuits and sausage gravy, an everything bagel with avocado, a Spanish omelet, a side order of bacon, and a large triple shot caramel latte with extra whipped cream. Oooh actually, add another shot to that because Iâm beat.â
âYou got it, Doctor! Iâll get that out to you pronto.â
Wesker glared at William after the waitress bounded away, although Roth was left looking a little confused.Â
âWhat?â Will asked. âIâm hungry. Plus, I have a family to feed. You just keep drinking your sad black coffee, my friend. It will never be as black as your soul.â
âActually, I am drinking a macchiato.â
âAw, look at you giving yourself a little light. I knew Claire would be good for you!â
âWait. Claire Redfield is still alive?â Roth asked.
Both Wesker and William broke off their repartee to glare at the info broker at the same time. He had unceremoniously readjusted their focus. Roth quickly regretted asking, as Weskerâs glare alone could kill.
âWhy do you care, Aaron?â Will asked.
The information broker, calm and sly, lightly shrugged, feigning skepticism. âI just figured sheâd long served her purpose by now.â
Such a clever rat.
Wesker scratched the top of his hand, an unspoken, discreet message to William. âWhat else do you have for us? Good news, I hope?â
Roth slowly nodded after swallowing. âYesâŚShe has agreed to meet you both. Unfortunately, the arrangements are a little tight because of her schedule. In two weeks. Itâs the only time I could secure from her. But if youâre wanting to get info on her secret project and any of her other dirty little secrets, I suggest you take advantage post haste. Iâve already spoken with Alex and she has Daniel on board to help.â
âTwo weeks?! Thereâs no way!â William grumbled. âYou couldnât make it in a month or so?â
The broker shook his head. âDr. Henry is of noble blood. Very proud. Very secretive. Quite powerful and influential. Sheâs also quite fickle. She usually only gives out opportunities like this once. I highly suggest you take it while it stands, or you might lose her as an ally completely.â
âIt wonât be an issue,â Wesker calmly added.
âSpeak for yourself, Iâm way busier than you!â Will scoffed.
âIf I may,â Roth cleared his throat. âWill this not catch the attention of those above you? A UID agent and the Chief Researcher going on a trip to Paris to meet one of Umbrella Europeâs executives? Surely that will catch Spencerâs attention?â
William frowned and looked at Wesker, who didnât even blink, but merely passed Roth a condescending smile. âI appreciate your âconcernâ, Aaron, but I already have it resolved.â
âOf course you do.â Both Roth and William said in unison, only to give each other weird looks.
âProceed forward and tell Daniel to contact me. Weâll be there.â Wesker smirked. âIt will be a pleasure to finally meet Christine Henry in person.â
Roth dipped his head and rose. âIâll get it done.â
The info broker left without another word. William watched him depart completely from the cafĂŠ while Wesker took a long drink of his coffee.
âSuch a good, obedient little puppy,â Will scoffed. âUntil he shits in our shoes.â
Wesker smacked him with the envelope. âStop your caviling.â
His partner took the envelope and stood just about the time their waitress returned with Williamâs order.
âHereâs your food all bagged up and your caramel latte with four shots of espresso! You might have a hard time sleeping tonight.â She giggled.
âSleep? Whatâs that?â Will joked and winked at her. âThanks, doll. Come on, Captain, letâs go!â
Wesker yawned and followed William out to his car. After the Chief Researcher secured his food on the back floorboard, he slid behind the wheel while Wesker waited in the passenger seat. Wesker finished his coffee while his partner took the time to go through the documents inside the envelope.
âHmm, so after nearly a decade of impasse, it seems their âNemesis Projectâ has finally been redeveloped. You know, I met Henry briefly when Spencer imported one of their Nemesis Alpha parasites a decade ago. Remember that trip I made to Paris with Spencer like a week after we filled Marcus full of holes? Anyway, her father was in charge then. And since there were no BOWs at the time that could survive the parasite, I took the liberty of implanting it into Lisa. I got my beloved G-Virus out of it! I can only imagine what these new parasites could do if injected into Lisa nowâŚBut it seems they plan on implanting them into the next-generation T-103 Tyrants they want to mass produce on Sheena Island. They donât even have the bugs worked out of the Epsilon strain or the T-002! Cart before the horse much?â
âThey wish to test the T-002 on live combatants and use the data towards the final improvements for the new models. That is nothing new,â Wesker explained. âIt will be machine versus organism in the coming months on which project will helm Phase Three and determine the future of the Tyrant line.â
âMy moneyâs on this bad boy,â William replied with a child-like grin, staring at the prototypeâs design in his lap. âSuch intelligence! And look at that artillery!â
âNature will always prevail,â Wesker agreed.âThat is one constant in this world. T-ALOS may have a highly confidential A.I. nexus, but its advantages do not outweigh its disadvantages compared to the Nemesis Alpha parasites.â
âI do spot an error in this blueprint, though.â Will tapped the diagram. âGiven how the parasite grows and attaches itself to the central nervous system and brain, I highly predict the cranial and facial tissues will have to be stapled or stretched. He wonât be this pretty.â
âWhat does that matter?â
âIt doesnât. I'm just pre-bragging how Iâll be right. Youâll see.â
âI will get in contact with Ada. She can come along with us and oversee Daniel.â
âUmâŚisnât she on assignment in South America?â
Wesker frowned. Heâd been so busy these past few weeks it had slipped his mind. He thought it over. âAlex is also unavailable. It would be in our best interest to have someone else we can trust on this trip. Unfortunately, we might just have to make do with Daniel.â
âHey, didnât you say Claire speaks French?â
Thatâs all it took for Weskerâs brain to do what it did best. Calculate, plot, scheme, orchestrateâŚ
In that same moment, his phone dinged, and a familiar name read across the screen. Claire, sending him another text in response from earlier.
Iâll be there.
Wesker stared at the words, his lips spreading into a wide, devilish grin.
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In terms of getting really obscure facts about my Special Interests(tm) I am a master.
So hereâs a whole bunch of obscure Resident Evil facts for yâall!
Lemme know if any of these surprised you or if you knew any of these!
â ď¸ Leon is scared of lightning (Astraphobia) but not thunder. (RE6)
â ď¸ Chris has a fear of late night phone calls because thatâs how he learned of his parents death.
â ď¸ Piers is very heavily implied to be Bisexual due to a file in Revelations 2 (his concept art also implies this, if you know you know)
â ď¸ The Hound Wolf Squad is the only squad Chris has had that have all survived the entire game.
â ď¸ Wesker and Birkin were childhood friends
â ď¸ The Cerberus are all clones of each other which is why theyâre all Doberman
â ď¸ Leon is a terrible driver, crashing one of just about every vehicle type including cars, a boat, a motorbike, a plane and a helicopter.
â ď¸ Sheva is one of the only left handed characters
â ď¸ Wesker wore glasses to hide his emotions (and later his red eyes)
â ď¸ Chris can play Bass guitar
â ď¸ Ada Wong isnât her real name
â ď¸ Vector is Japanese
â ď¸ Vector is the only character that can canonically turn invisible (Hunk can too but only in various mercenary modes)
â ď¸ Hunk is said to respond emotionally to the name âBellaâ
â ď¸ The USS soldier who shot Birkin and started the outbreak had the callsign âGhostâ
â ď¸ Nighthawk has two call signs, the other being âLone Wolfâ
â ď¸ Barry Burton and Wesker are the same age however Wesker appeared to stop aging at 38 years old after infection.
â ď¸ Jake Muller was conceived before Wesker was infected with the Progenitor Virus making his immunity to the C Virus a plot hole.
â ď¸ Lobo is the only member of the Hound Wolf Squad that had worked with Chris prior to Village. See Heavenly Island
â ď¸ Piers was introduced in the comic The Marhawa Desire set before RE6
â ď¸ Chris and Jill both know 7 fighting styles. Leon knows 6
â ď¸ Lady Dimitrescu is highly implied to be Lesbian
â ď¸ Heisenberg was the one who told Chris and the Hound Wolf Squad about Miranda (though planned to betray them from the beginning)
â ď¸ Ethanâs immortality was gained back in RE7 at the dinner table scene with the Bakers as they resurrected him after Jack killed him.
â ď¸ Piers and Claire kept in contact via email and later phone calls up until his death in China. It is implied he told her nothing about Chrisâs amnesia at the time.
â ď¸ Jill Valentine learned to lock pick from her father who was a French thief
â ď¸ Leon once considered suicide after the events of RE2 but stayed alive because Sherry needed him
â ď¸ Leonâs parents were both criminals who died when he was a child. He was inspired to become a cop after the one who rescued him.
â ď¸ Hunk had an intense rivalry with Nicholai which is why he interfered so much with Vector and Wolfpack.
â ď¸ Birkin prided himself on being the youngest Umbrella researcher at only 16 until a 10 year old Alexia Ashford came along.
â ď¸ Wesker made his own blueprints for anti BOW weaponry which later inspired the creations of Thorâs Hammer and modifications based on his original Samurai Edge called the AW Model
â ď¸Jake Muller is an incredibly gifted pianist
â ď¸ Chris Redfield was a notorious prankster during his days at STARS
â ď¸ When Chris went missing after Edonia one of the people Piers contacted was Sheva.
â ď¸ Leon and Wesker never meet nor interact directly
â ď¸ Hunk has also never interacted with any of the main characters including Wesker
â ď¸ During RE2 Wesker/Ada and Hunk were working against each other to obtain the G Virus unknowingly
â ď¸ Some, if not all of Wolfpack survive the Raccoon City outbreak after sparing Leon, Claire and Sherry and betraying Umbrella.
â ď¸The BSAA were actively working against Chris and the HWS in Village, implying to even have the green light to kill them.
â ď¸ Zoe Baker after RE7 is implied to have become an informant for Chris Redfield and a journalist
â ď¸ Hunk agreed to personally train Vector after they fought to a draw. Vector is also the only character to ever escape from Hunkâs neck snapping headlock.
â ď¸ The USS were Umbrellaâs personal army whilst the UBCS were just hired mercenaries and in the end considered a liability
â ď¸ Simmons from RE6 was one of the ones responsible for passing the vote to blow up Raccoon City
â ď¸ About 10% of humans have immunity to the T-Virus and Umbrella never figured out how
â ď¸ Chief Irons was straight up a serial killer able to cover his tracks thanks to Umbrellaâs involvement while also being paid to stay quiet about their experiments
â ď¸ Hunk developed his own fighting style called Close Quarters Quarantined Battle Zone after Umbrellaâs downfall in 2003 in which he became a legendary mercenary.
â ď¸ Thanks to Shadows of Rose, Chris is implied to still be working well into his 60âs as well as the Hound Wolf Squad.
â ď¸ âKâ from Shadows of Rose is heavily implied to be an older Canine from the HWS
â ď¸ The new Death Island CGI movie is not only the first time weâll see Jill in the timeline since 2009 but also the first time weâll see Leon and Jill onscreen together
Page 2 of The Man Without a Plan for you to all partake in!
Knowing how stubborn Wesker is I doubted heâdâve succumbed to the lava but eventually the volcano wudda spat him out!
Welp, Iâve been quiet for a hot minute so I figured Iâd share this comic Iâve been working on!
Itâs a short thing in the style of Weskerâs Report, basically me hypothesising (and trying to detox from copium) about how Wesker wouldâve survived the end of RE5. Gonna see if I can post it all like, idk a page each week till its all done, hope you guys enjoy it!
(if it isnât readable let me know and Iâll transcribe it!)
Synopsis: Pre-Resident Evil 1, slight-AU/Canon Divergence. Claire Redfield comes home to visit her brother Chris for the holidays but gets caught up in a dangerous game of cat and mouse with Albert Wesker, the Captain of STARS, after stumbling upon dark secrets. She canât call the law; Wesker is the law, and she canât tell Chris. She is trappedâŚClaire/Wesker & Slight Chris/Jill (Wesker & William Bromance). Rated M for smut, language, violence, adult content.
AO3 Link
Epilogue
One month laterâŚ
The closing discussion was nothing but blether in her ears. Professor Wendell prated on about next week's assignments, reiterating a few key points on the board before removing her glasses to wipe them with her shirt. Claire disregarded the noise, her blue eyes scrupulously scanning over the large class five minutes before the start of her weekend.
Some students were just as restless, just as inattentive to their professor as she was. Like a nearby couple ogling each other with knowing smiles. Most others paid close attention, jotting down notes. Like the girl next to her, absorbing all Professor Wendell had to say.
Claire shook out of her trance long enough to scribble down some important notes in the hum of her professor's chatter. Professor Wendell dismissed them not even twenty seconds later. Claire slammed her textbook shut, sliding it and her notebook into her backpack as others did the same. She slung it onto one shoulder, snatched her parka, and beelined for the exit. It was unlike her to be in such a hurry to get out of class, but it had been that way lately. Other students had the same idea as Claire, just as eager for freedom or in a hurry to get to their next class.
The hallways were filled in moments as a couple other classes ended. Claire adjusted her backpack while following the crowd, peeking into some classrooms still in session as she passed them by.
She listened to what was said around her. She observed each individual, inquisitive, perhaps even prying, wondering what their motives, feelings, and desires might be.
A guy Claire's age walked alone, even in the mass, eyes lowered and lost in thought. Was he sad? Lonely? Homesick? Had he lost a loved one?âŚHis were unknown.
Two other guys snickered while talking about a "hot girl", one motioning out what could only be her figure. Theirs were plain as day.
You're doing it againâŚ
The younger Redfield shook herself out of it once more. When had this habit become so excessive? She'd always enjoyed learning what made people tick, hence the Sociology major and Psychology minor, yet she had never felt the need to figure out every single person around her, not before him anyway. Wesker had certainly done something to her. Claire decided the reason was she wanted to understand why he deciphered people and how he was able to do it so effortlessly. More than anythingâŚshe wanted to understand Wesker himself. He was the ultimate enigma.
Someone snatched her bag and tugged backwards. Her mind instantly recalled when Roth and Bennett had jumped her. Claire tightened her grip on the strap, pulling forward and then spinning around to give whoever it was a painful slug to the chest.
"Ack!" The young man let her go, wincing as he rubbed his chest. "Shit, that hurt!"
Claire sighed, miffed at first, but quickly calmed down. "Sorry. Reflex."
Luke. Her most recent ex-boyfriend. One of only two other guys she had slept with besides Wesker. Despite ending their relationship, they still remained good friends, although Claire knew he still crushed on her hard. Athletic and cute, he played sports like she did. He had bright eyes, a sweet smile, and sported this boy band haircut that seemed to be the "in" thing right now.
Although a little on the tame side, he was a good guy. Claire had even considered getting back together with him before Christmas break. After a thrilling affair with Wesker and the life-or-death trials he puppeteered, however, Luke wasâŚwell, he was only a boy to her, now.
He laughed it off. "All good. Honestly, what else should I have expected?"
"If you two would stop flirting in the middle of the hallway, maybe we could actually leave?" huffed a familiar voice.
Traci. Her best friend. One person Claire could trust with anything, even her deepest, darkest secrets. She shared Claire and Luke's love of sports, but was also a bookworm and just as stubborn as Claire. She was true to herself and those around her, and Claire loved that about her. Through thick or thin, she would always have Claire's back, and Claire would always have hers.
Traci scowled at them with arms crossed. Luke sheepishly smiled and rubbed the back of his head. "TraceâŚperfect timing as always."
Traci linked her arm with Claire's and the three of them were off. Claire started off listening intently to her best friend's recap of basketball and her last class once they got outside, but soon found herself zoning out again, despite her best efforts. There was no snow, thank goodness, but it was still cold as all hell. Claire broke free from the gabbing Traci and handed Luke her backpack so she could slip into her parka. When she tried to take back her bag, Luke just slung it over his other shoulder.
"After my breakup with Kyle, I'm ready to get into some trouble," Traci joked, continuing on from her story that Claire wasn't really listening to.
They headed for the university's parking lot, where Traci's car awaited them. Luke had his own vehicle, but Claire's motorcycle was still stored for winter and so she mostly rode with Traci.
Every Friday they went to Scooter's for the best burgers in town before heading back to Traci and Claire's shared dorm.
"Wanna go to Adrian's party tomorrow night?"
"Shouldn't we be studying?" Luke teased. "I still haven't even recovered from the last hangover."
"Wimp!" Traci playfully shoved her friend. "That was when we first came back after break! And since when are you worried about studying? We're all straight-A students. We always do our work first before fun. Hell, I think we're more prepared for the real world than half the campus!"
Claire frowned, zoning out of Traci and Luke's conversation, a silent sigh fluttering between her lips. Those two were always razzing each other. She stared at the ground just as they hit the parking lot, refusing to look at passing students, in fear she'd lose herself in speculation again.
What did Traci know of the real world? What did any of them know? What they were taught in regards to the "real world" was nothing compared to what she'd endured of it over the holidays. There were more powerful forces at hand, sinister ones, all in the shadows of what they thought they knew.
She struggled with the point of it all nowâŚschool, parties, all the insignificant bullshit people made big deals out of. She felt very out of sorts with herself, and it was harrowing realizing how much Albert had affected her. He had certainly ripped some sort of blinders away, blinders she didn't even realize she had and which she now missed. In a way, he had ripped away her remaining innocence, and although for selfish motives, he had done so to protect her. Perhaps it was a greater gift than even what he'd done with her uncleâŚClaire just didn't know how to appreciate it yet.
No. You're just suffering from some kind of PTSD. Everything will go back to normal. You'll be back to yourself soon, Claire. Time. Just need time.
She wondered how much time. Claire hadn't seen her lover in just over a month, and yet he still impacted her this much. She thought about him every day. The way he had seized her, the way he had taken her, the way he had killed for her.
Asshole. What did you do to me?
Traci grabbed her arm and spun her around, snapping Claire out of her intrusive thoughts. "Claire! Did you not hear me?"
"Huh?"
Her best friend sighed. "No one home again. Are you sure you're alright? You've been kinda out of it lately."
"Yeah, sorry. I just haven't been feeling well," Claire half-lied.
"Do we need to take you back to the dorm?" Luke asked, concerned.
Claire mustered up the best "real" smile she could pass off. "No! A juicy burger will do me some good. I'm starving!"
"Okay, so what about the movie then?"
Oh, so that's what they had asked herâŚto go see a movie. Claire shrugged. "Why not?" She struggled to be on board with it, but maybe it would provide the distraction she desperately needed.
They were close to Traci's car now. Claire stared at the asphalt, trying really hard to listen to Luke as he told them about how he had it "rough" over Christmas break. Claire could only close her eyes and grit her teeth as she thought about the people she'd seen die right in front of her. Killed by a man who had blackmailed, threatened, and manipulated herâŚand who had become her lover in the mix of it all. Luke had no idea what "rough" was.
"Hold up," Traci interrupted, stopping abruptly.
Claire halted beside her, and Luke nearly bumped into her. Traci gestured ahead, curious yet unsure. "Nice car."
Claire immediately recognized the black Jaguar XKR parked next to Traci's carâŚand the man beside it.
"Who the hell is he?" Luke asked.
Claire's eyes locked with Albert's and she froze. He waited with arms crossed, leaning against the passenger side of his car. The corner of his mouth quirked once he noticed her obvious shock at seeing him here. Her heart jounced around in her ribcage as she promptly thought of what to say.
She turned to her friends, throat suddenly dry. "Uh, he's a friend of my brother's."
"A friend of Chris's? What, is he a cop, too?" Traci asked, looking between Claire and the waiting STARS Captain, who currently wasn't dressed as such.
"Yeah."
After a few glances back and forth, Traci proved to know her too well. "Ohhhhhhh. A 'friend'Â of 'Chris's'. Gotchu. Does your brother have any more 'friends'? Because hot damn, girl!" Her best friend playfully nudged her with an excited wink.
"It's not like that," Claire lied, knowing she needed to go to him soon. "I gotta go."
"Hey! Wait up." Traci pulled her to the side as Luke put himself between them and Albert.
Wesker sneered in amusement but abided the hindrance. Feeling his eyes fixed intently on her made her skin tingle in excitement.
"Everything's cool, right? You'd tell me if something was wrong? I just want to make sure I'm not letting you get into some psycho's car," Traci whispered.
Claire smiled at her. "Everything's fine, Trace. I'll tell you all about it later, alright?"
Her best friend slowly nodded and backed away. She gave Wesker one last look before hollering, "C'mon, Luke. Let's go."
Claire retrieved her bag from him. "I won't be at the movie or Adrian's party," she mumbled. That's what her gut was telling her anyway, but those words only seemed to set off Luke and he blocked her path, putting his hands on her shoulders.
"Luke," Claire warned.
"Something's off with this guy, Claire. You shouldn't go."
"Let me go," Claire softly ordered, deep down terrified for him. "Get out of the way."
"But-"
"Move."
Confused, he finally stepped aside with a defeated sigh. Claire felt bad, but she had to do it. She had no idea how far Wesker's possessiveness of her would go, and she wasn't about to test it.
Claire exuded calm as she approached her lover, though lightheaded from so many feelings surging beneath her skin. She was apprehensive and annoyed, but she was also excited and happy. Claire was relieved when Albert kept his eyes on her, seemingly apathetic to the lingering Luke.
Traci grabbed Luke's arm and yanked him to her car. Claire waved goodbye as they slowly pulled out. "Please don't hurt them, they don't know shit. Luke's just-"
Wesker placed a finger over her lips to hush her, then gently cupped her chin in his hand. "Relax, darling. You are fretting over something inconsequential. I will not harm anyone for simply being in your proximity."
Just as she relaxed, he added. "They have to give me a reason first." He gently squeezed her chin. "So let me remind you that I do not share what's mine."
Such baiting was typical of him, and so Claire bit her tongue and let it go. "What are you doing here?"
He tilted his head with that amused, playful smirk he reserved solely for her. "You know why I am here."
Although her heart jumped up a few more beats, she glared at him. "You can't just show up whenever you want."
His eyes twinkled at her challenge. "I can and I will," he affirmed, caressing his fingers down her neck, exposing it more to him before letting her go. "I'm entitled to you, Claire. No worries, however. I have your best interests at heart. I will not stand in the way of your education, but I know your schedule. As such, we are about to commence our own schedule. You'll know it by heart soon enough, my dear."
A small chill crept through her spine. Our own schedule? What does he mean by that?
"OurâŚown schedule?"
Some of the arrogance dropped from his smirk. It was more of a smile now, warmer, softerâŚfor her. He leaned in to take her backpack. Claire thought he would kiss her with how close he got, her breath catching in her throat. Their eyes locked on each other, unblinking. His fingers lingered on her skin. She could tell he was craving to touch her, to kiss her, to have her.
She had the same cravings for him.
He withdrew, taking her bag with him, and opened the passenger door of his car. "Yes. We will be staying at the Four Seasons this weekend and shall discuss it there."
The Four Seasons?! That was the most luxurious hotel in the city! If she remembered correctly, she'd once heard it was over $500 a night.
His eyes remained on her, drinking in her stunned expression, and he chuckled. "Something the matter, dear heart?" he purred, still patiently holding the door open for her.
Our own scheduleâŚClaire thought over all that had happened between them. She recalled William's revelation to her at the coffee shop. It was easy to believe him that Albert cared for her in his own way. William knew him best, after all. Honestly, taking in Wesker's handsome appearance, the cunning gleam in his eye, his deadly, oh so charming smile, it was disturbing yet thrilling knowing she'd earned the respect and affection of such a feared man.
For some reason, she returned to the last time they were together: Barry's Christmas party. He had downright refused to let her go because he didn't want to.
She barely smiled as it finally made sense, as she finally figured out what Wesker meant in his own way. What he did wantâŚ
He refused to let her go because he wanted her to himself, that was obvious. Albert didn't know how to love someone correctly - without conditions, without controlling themâŚwithout owning them. If she was right, he was attempting to alleviate that for her.
"You want a relationship...like a real one."
He narrowed his eyes at her. "I'm not sure what you are implying, exactly. We are in a relationship. You belong to me."
"You can't own people, Albert."
"I own plenty of people."
Claire sighed. "Let me finishâŚ" She closed in so their bodies were inches apart and looked into his eyes. "You can't own someone and expect them to love you. You can't expect them to not hate you."
Wesker had told her she would hate him one day. She didn't want toâŚeven though she should.
"I could not care less what others feel for me. They are merely tools."
"Me included?"
Albert frowned. "We both know you are smarter than that."
That settled it for her.
Claire whispered, "I'm going to put trust in you and believe that's what you really want here. I hope I'm right."
"Then get in the car," he whispered back. Although his tone was insistent, there was something underlying she just couldn't interpret.
She now understood that her life would never go back to normal. Ever. The way he stared at her, the way their bodies buzzed so close together, it would never be the same. The blinders were gone...So, too, was her innocence. She saw a different world now. Tainted. She had trouble breathing it inâŚbut that is why her lover made sure he was her only source of oxygenâŚwasn't it?
She got into the passenger seat, inhaling her final breath of normalcy, of innocenceâŚbefore the door shut and trapped her for good.
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