Pum-pum… huff… pum-pum… huff… huff
For a moment, everything slowed down as if the world paused. I could hear my heart beating. My breathing was heavy from the last fight, adrenaline already surging for what was coming next. Rebecca was on the other side of the corridor, struggling. She looked tired, as if she had just gone through hell.
Snap,
Then I collided with them.
There was no room to slow down.
The first creature lunged high, claws sweeping for my throat. I stepped inside the arc, shoulder slamming into its sternum. My knife came up under its jaw and drove through soft tissue. Hot blood sprayed across my face as I ripped the blade free and pivoted.
A second was already on me.
Too fast.
It crashed into my side, claws scraping across my ribs. I twisted, barely keeping my balance, and buried the knife into its collarbone. It shrieked and bit down toward my ear. I headbutted it—hard. Bone cracked. I tore the blade sideways, severing something vital, and kicked the body off me.
"WESKER!" Rebecca screamed.
Three more rushed at once.
They moved like hunting dogs—coordinated, frenzied.
I backstepped into the narrow corridor wall so they couldn't surround me.
One dropped low.
One leapt.
One came straight down the center.
I slashed downward, catching the leaper across the face midair. It shrieked but didn't fall. The low one slammed into my legs. We hit the floor hard. Its claws raked toward my stomach—
I trapped its wrist.
The claws stopped inches from my abdomen, trembling with strain.
Its breath reeked of rot and iron.
I drove the knife repeatedly into its neck. Once. Twice. Three times.
It went slack.
I shoved it off just as the wounded leaper crashed down on top of me. Its claws raked across my shoulder, tearing fabric and skin. Pain flared white-hot. I rolled, barely avoiding its snapping teeth, and plunged the blade into its eye.
The corridor filled with shrieking.
The last two hesitated.
They were thinking.
Not mindless.
Calculating.
One feinted left.
The other came right.
I chose wrong.
The left one wasn't a feint.
It hit me full force, claws slamming into my torso.
I blocked high—
Too high.
Its other hand swung low.
I felt it before I understood it.
A sudden, violent tearing sensation across my left abdomen.
Like someone had dragged a red-hot rake through my flesh.
My body reacted before my mind did. I slammed my elbow down on its forearm and drove the knife upward under its ribcage, punching through with everything I had. I felt the blade grind against bone before slipping deeper.
The creature convulsed.
But the damage was done.
Warmth spread under my shirt.
Wet.
Too wet.
The final monster lunged while I was still entangled.
I ripped the blade free and spun, slashing blindly.
The knife opened its throat from ear to ear.
It staggered forward on momentum alone, claws grazing my cheek before collapsing at my feet.
Silence.
Heavy.
Broken only by my breathing.
And Rebecca's.
The hallway was painted in arterial spray.
Bodies twitched.
I looked down.
My left side was soaked dark.
The gash stretched from just below my ribs toward my hip—deep, ragged. Blood poured steadily between my fingers as I pressed down.
Damn it.
Not good.
Not shallow.
Rebecca rushed to me, hands shaking from the recent ordeal. "Wesker, you're hurt."
"I'm fine." My voice came out tighter than I wanted.
I wasn't fine.
I could feel the weakness already creeping in. The cold.
"Can you stand?" she asked, trying to assess the wound, her medic instincts fighting panic.
I forced myself upright.
The world tilted slightly.
"I didn't come all this way to die in a hallway," I muttered.
Another distant howl echoed from deeper into the mansion.
More were coming.
Rebecca swallowed hard. "We have to move."
"Then we move."
I picked up the knife again, adjusting my grip because my hand was slick with blood—mine.
Rebecca slid under my uninjured side to help support me.
"The room at the end of the hall—go in there."
Rebecca opened the door, checked inside, and said, "It's empty. A small room with a fireplace."
"It will do for now."
I stepped over the corpses, each step sending a sharp pulse through my abdomen. My vision flickered at the edges, but I forced it steady.
I got inside, and Rebecca closed the door, locked it, and pulled a heavy drawer in front of it to block it.
I leaned against a wall, felt my legs give out, and slid down to the ground.
"Let me see—move your hand," Rebecca said as she got close to check the wound. "You're bleeding out. Put your hand back on it and apply pressure."
Then she took out her med kit and started to work on my wound.
A few minutes later, she was finishing up with bandages around my torso as I said, "You know." An admission—or more like acknowledgment—of her prior knowledge. This Rebecca was different. She wasn't the clueless rookie. No, this was Rebecca, the survivor of Resident Evil Zero, the person who fought a Tyrant-class monster and survived. She also knew about Wesker's involvement with Umbrella.
She looked at me with a sharp look that could cut steel, but she didn't say anything and finished wrapping the bandage. When she was finished, she got up, moved a few steps back, and pulled out her handgun.
Seeing this, I tried to get up. "You shouldn't be moving," she said. "That wound—"
I slowly kicked the nearly ruined knife toward her.
"I've had worse," I replied, though the strain in my voice betrayed me. I leaned back against the wall, sunglasses gone, revealing eyes that looked far more human than she expected. "Rebecca… there's something you need to know. If I don't say it now, I won't get another chance."
She hesitated. "You just saved my life. Whatever this is, it can wait."
"No, it can't," I said quietly.
I took a breath, steadying myself.
"Umbrella didn't just hire me," I began.
"They made me."
Rebecca POV
Rebecca froze, her hands still. "What do you mean?"
"I was a child when they took me. An orphan in an orphanage managed by one of Umbrella's many dummy companies. This place housed runaways, children no one would miss. They put us through… trials. Drugs. Viruses. Conditioning. They told us it was to 'unlock potential.'" His jaw tightened. "Most of us didn't survive."
Rebecca swallowed. "You were experimented on?"
"Yes," he said. "Shaped. Broken. Rebuilt into something useful." He let out a bitter, humorless breath. "I told myself it made me stronger. That it justified everything I did afterward."
She shook her head slowly. "And all this?" She gestured toward the bloodstained hallway, the distant sounds of something moving behind walls. "The mansion?"
"This is Umbrella cleaning up its mistakes," Wesker said. "And using us to do it. S.T.A.R.S. was never meant to come back out."
Rebecca stared at him, horror dawning. "You knew."
"I suspected it," he admitted. "And when I confirmed it… I still followed orders." His voice dropped. "That's my guilt. Everybody in this place, every scream—you don't walk away from that."
For a moment, Rebecca thought he wouldn't continue. Then he met her eyes.
"But I won't let it end like this."
"You're helping us?" she asked.
"I'm trying to," Wesker said. "Saving you wasn't part of Umbrella's plan. Neither is getting anyone else out alive." His expression hardened, resolve cutting through the pain. "I can't undo what I've done to serve them. But I can make sure they don't get what they want tonight."
Rebecca shook her head in disbelief. "Why tell me this?"
"Because I can't do it alone," he said. "You're smart. You understand medicine, chemistry. You've seen what these viruses do. I need you to trust me—at least enough to help me get the others out."
She looked down at the bandage she'd just tied, then back up at him. "And after that?"
Wesker was silent for a long moment.
"After that," he said softly, "I'll face whatever's left for me. Umbrella. The truth. Or death. I deserve at least one of them."
Rebecca lowered and holstered the gun and offered him her shoulder. "Then get up," she said. "If you're serious about atonement, you're not doing it lying on the floor."
A faint smile touched his lips as he accepted her help.
"Thank you, Rebecca," Wesker said. "For giving me the chance to do one thing right."
"Did you encounter the large snake?" he asked.
"Yeah, we lost Richard to that thing. That's when I ran." She hung her head low as she finished.
"We killed that bastard, but Jill got poisoned. Do you know how to make an antidote?"
"I can make the antidote. I found the notes. But I need the chemical storage room downstairs."
"Okay, let's go," as he tried to get back up.
Rebecca tried to help.
"No," he said. "Stay behind me."
"But you're hurt!"
"And you're the only one who can save Jill."
That ended the argument.
She moved the drawer aside and helped him to the door.
Chris/Barry POV
< Checking Jill's condition >
God damn it, she is getting worse, and Wesker isn't back yet. Why the hell did I let him go alone? Barry could have looked after Jill and Frost, damn it!
"How is she?" Barry asked, snapping Chris out of his thoughts.
"Getting worse."
"What about Frost?" Barry asked.
"He's stable, but I don't know when—or if—he'll wake up."
As Chris finished speaking, Frost started moving.
"What happened? Agh, fuck my head." Frost grabbed his head and tried to get up.
"Stay down and relax. You took a bad hit to the head. We are in a safe room," Chris said, stopping Frost from moving.
"What about the big-ass snake?" Frost asked.
Barry put his hand on Frost's shoulder and said, "It's dead. You got the bastard."
Then Frost saw Jill. "She will be fine. She's a fighter, and Wesker is looking for an antidote," Chris said as Barry looked up at Chris. "That's if he didn't just run off and leave us."
"He wouldn't do that," Chris said, then looked at Jill. "Not to her."
Krrrshhh—kssshhht. The radio crackled.
"—anyone copy?—"
KRRRSHHH—
"—Bravo—can you—kzzzt—hear me—"
kssshhht—
"—need help—at—kzzzt—too many—"
KRRRSHHH—
"—second-floor East terrace—please—kzzzt—hear me—"
"That sounded like Speyer from Bravo Team," Frost said as Chris began operating his own radio. "kzzzt, this is Chris Redfield with S.T.A.R.S. Alpha Team. We received your message. What is your current location?"
Chris waited a few moments with no response.
"kzzzt, I repeat, this is Chris Redfield with S.T.A.R.S. Alpha Team. What is your current location?"
Chris waited a few more moments as he was starting to get more desperate.
"kzzzt, damn it, Speyer, respond. Do you copy?"
Nothing after a minute. Chris looked at Barry with a desperate look.
"What are you waiting for, Chris? Let's go."
"What about Jill?"
"The room is safe, and Frost is up—"
"But what about Wesker? He said to—"
"The hell with what he said. I'm going with or without you," Barry said as he walked toward the door.
"Shit. Fine, I'm coming. Frost, you need to stay awake and not make any noise. Wait for us to come back. Hopefully it won't be long," Chris told Frost with an apologetic look.
"Are you two fucking crazy? You don't have any ammo. What the fuck are you going to do when you run into one of those things—politely ask it to fuck off?"
"We'll manage," Barry said as he opened the door and left. Chris looked at Frost as he was about to close the door to leave and said, "Stay safe and wait."
MC POV
Fuck, that was stupid. I let my emotions get out of control and charged into that fight recklessly. Now this injury is going to slow me down. Damn it!
Sigh, thankfully Rebecca bought the story. Well, it is true—at least for Wesker.
"How far away is this chemical room?" I asked Rebecca as we were slowly moving through the corridor to the staircase leading down.
"It's on the 1st floor, on the west side of the mansion, opposite where we are."
I frowned. West side…
That couldn't be a coincidence.
"Is the room filled with all kinds of vials and medicine and a single bed?"
"Yeah, how did you know?" Rebecca asked with surprise.
"That's the room Jill and the others are in, but I didn't see any antivenoms or serums."
"That's because I already used it on Richard. I found him not far from here. He'd been poisoned by that monster. That monster was originally in a large library, but somehow it made its way outside to the graveyard. That was the second time Richard and I ran into that monster, and Richard saved me—but he didn't make it. So, I ran," Rebecca said, her voice faltering as she lowered her head.
"I'm sorry, Rebecca, but you know it's not your fault. None of this is."
She nodded as she wiped the corners of her eyes. "Let's go. Jill needs me, and I'm not letting anyone die in this hellhole."