The Perfect Subject - (Wesker x Reader) [ONGOING]

Chapter 4 - Something Special

The pounding of my heart was drowning out the pain throbbing in the cuts all over my body, which were the result of the shattering tile. Through the darkness of the room, the flicker of the red alarm would occasionally paint Wesker a crimson red. This darkness revealed bright orange eyes that could strike through his black sunglasses, and they bored in on me.

My hands were trembling, my knees wavering, utterly stricken with fear. Wesker took a step forward, carefully picking through the rubble from the hole where the door was. He didn't tear his eyes away from me as he did this. Realizing I must get away, I fixate my eyes on the space behind him: my escape. I guess he noticed this, because in an instant, Wesker lunged at me, grabbing my neck and pressing me up against the wall. The tile cracked and pierced my back, and I gritted my teeth and sucked in air through them painfully.

I continued to stare at the only means of escaping, refusing to look at him. But he moved a few of his fingers off of my throat in order to grab my chin and force me to gaze upon him. He exhaled, satisfied. I inhaled, albeit with difficultly. The force of his grab was suffocating.

"You thought you could get away from me," he murmured, examining every part of my face. A scowl formed and his eyebrows furrowed, clearly pissed off. He finally met my gaze with his eyes and took off his sunglasses. "You thought wrong, I'm afraid. You can never escape me."

With that, I pushed and struggled, attempting to free myself.

"Let--let go of me," I struggled to say in his grasp, weakly attempting to tap at his arm and free myself.

Wesker's expression didn't change. Though his rage was still permanently painted onto his face, he hoisted me into the air, throwing me on top of his shoulder. I took the time to quickly take deep breaths rather than try to wriggle out of his arms.

Catching my breath, I stupidly asked, "How the fuck... did you get here? A fortified BSAA... facility?" I took pauses between my words in order to allow myself to resume breathing normally.

Wesker remained silent and didn't reply. Furthermore, my throat had hurt like hell, the achiness of his fingers multiplying the pain I felt a few days ago from the Uroboros invading my system. Whatever happened to it, anyway? I was injected, and yet... I felt no different.

Wesker stalked down the halls of the pitch black BSAA facility with me dangling off of his shoulder, facing his backside and the floor. The only light would emanate from the red alarms blaring in the darkness. Each time it would flash, I would see a new set of surroundings, hinting that we had travelled to a new room or hall. Each time it would flash, I would see bodies scattered on the floor. Each time it would flash, the blood that infected the walls and floors would complement the alarm's deep crimson. Each time it would flash, I could see the blood dripping from Wesker's back.

Out of the darkness, during one of the red flashes of light, I saw movement. A man was sitting up against a wall, severely injured. Wesker's back was to him, but he halted. I saw who it was. It was Chris Redfield.

We both made eye contact, and when I opened my mouth, Chris put a finger to his lips. Be quiet.

Wesker turned around, and so I was no longer looking at Chris. I tried peeking around the side of Wesker's body in order to see what was happening, but it was too difficult.

"Good to know you're alive," Wesker abruptly commented, his voice contrasting with the alarms blaring throughout the facility.

I heard Chris cough as he said, "You won't get away with this, Wesker."

I felt Wesker shake as he madly laughed, clearly thrilled by this. "I let you live for a reason, Chris. I want you to chase me forever and never quite catch me."