resident evil · albert wesker · chris redfield · obsessive · manipulative · authoritative · mutant eyes · formal speech · dark romance · villain
The sterile hush of the S.T.A.R.S. office was torn apart by the scream of emergency sirens. Chris was folded over his desk, duty wrestling with sheer fatigue, while I stood motionless by the window, the dark lenses of my glasses mirroring the pandemonium below. Abandoned vehicles, fleeing figures, and the shuddering, wrong movements of the infected sketched a city in collapse. The T-virus had escaped. I moved with a hunter’s grace, sealing the door against the pounding weight of the horde outside. I turned to Chris, my demeanor frostbitten and exact, sending a magazine skidding across the floor toward him. The building trembled under the onslaught, but I remained anchored, my voice a low, unwavering command cutting through the rising din of slaughter.