Beg Me for Your Death

I do not own Resident Evil.

Special thanks to everyone who reviewed. I will answer them next chapter but I kind of want to get this out…like right now. School has been killing me. ;A;

XXX

Chris had spent the first hour out of that room looking for a clock or device of some sort that worked and could tell time.

It was 10 in the evening.

Chris groaned and slumped against the wall. He slid down it to the floor and sighed. Wesker did this to disorientate him. Ruin his body's internal clock. Which means it could have been weeks or months he had been kept prisoner here. Wesker looked just as he did before he shoved him into a volcano...or even before he overdosed him with that virus with all the numbers and letters.

He got up and started to try doors. Wesker said that there were some unlocked didn't he?

He hated to trust the guy, or whatever the hell he was; but he was hungry, tired, and felt grimy. His first priority was food. Then he would see about a bed and shower.

He tried the elevator, that didn't work. And it seemed as if almost every door on this level was locked.

He growled and punched the wall, "Stupid fucking blond asshole. I hope, that when I do manage to kill him, that he rots in hell!"

Chris angrily tried to open the next door expecting that it was locked as well, only to realize that it wasn't and fell in heavily.

He sat up and looked around in a slightly dazed manner.

This place seemed to be like a bedroom. It was still just as dull as the rest of the facility, what with it's pristine white walls, lack of personality, and furniture. He looked around the small room and spotted a dresser. He opened it and dug through the contents. There was a whole bunch of clothing that was specifically in his size. The brunet picked up a shirt and some pants and changed into them. Instantly feeling slightly better. Well he found his room...now to find food.

His body felt weak and he actually was about to say 'fuck it' and go to bed without anything...but his stomach would be rather angry at him and he needed sustenance if he was going to get out of this dump alive...

The kitchen was actually not that far.

It seemed just as he was opening the fridge Wesker made an effort to be there to completely ruin his want to eat.

"Well hello Chris...seems you finally managed to find the kitchen. I would have expected you to come across it a bit sooner." He said with that demeaning smirk on his face.

"If you knew how to decorate better or actually gave this place a little personality maybe I wouldn't have spent hours on end going in circles." Chris snapped back and went back to looking for something he didn't really have to cook.

"It's not my fault that this place wasn't designed for people with such a low IQ. The people that used to work here managed just fine. As do I." He chucked lightly and leaned against a wall.

Chris wanted to chuck the apple he had pulled from the fridge straight at Wesker's head. But he didn't. Instead he angrily bit into it and brushed roughly past his former captain. Muttering, "Fucking asshole." as he left the room.

Wesker smirked and pressed a single button. And with that he could hear Chris's strangled groans from the hallway. "Respect and obedience are key Christopher." He called out and made his way into the hallway where he could see the other writhing and twitching in agony.

"A-Asshole."

Chris sputtered out and was met with another wave of pain as Wesker hit the button once more.

"I can do this all day Chris. All. Day. I quite enjoy watching you suffer at my feet like this."

Chris gave him a defiant glare and attempted to still his convulsing body and stop making sounds of withering pain.

Wesker looked thoroughly please with himself. "Now if you behave I might actually cook something for you that tastes better than what you have been ingesting."

Chris picked himself off the floor and used the wall to support himself. "No thank you. Chances are, you have forgotten how to cook."

Wesker raised an eyebrow and tilted his head slightly to the side. "How so?"

"Being the monster you are, you probably eat people." Chris snarled. "Don't you dare lie to my face and tell me otherwise!"

Wesker laughed lightly. "Actually, for once Christopher, I am not lying to you. I have never tasted the flesh of another human being."

"I said don't fucking lie to my face." He snarled. "I know you would. You don't care about anyone else save for yourself! You didn't even care about that one chick that was following you around like a lost puppy." Chris yelled. "You killed her too!"

"Christopher..." Wesker said in a low voice. "I specifically remember you were the one with the satellite laser in your hands." His voice mocking. "You were the one that killed her. I was actually planning on keeping Excella as a pet in my new world."

"You are one sick fucker. You know that? Especially because after all the shit you did, you choose now to develop a sense of humor? A fucking twisted one to boot!"

"Oh Christopher. I have always had a sense of humor. I found team alpha and bravo's trust and upmost respect to be most entertaining." Before a grin managed to spread itself across the tyrant's face Chris's fist connected with it.

"How dare you-" He was once again on the floor writhing in pain.

"Was that one hit for your team really worth it Christopher?" Wesker sneered as he wiped blood away from his mouth. That wasn't any good. His healing was still very slow... "I will see you around." He muttered and turned heel. He stalked off down the hall with his black trench coat whipping behind him.

Chris watched as he ex-captain left him lying there on the floor. His vision dimming to black...

XXX

Chris woke up on the cold hard unforgiving floor of the damned Umbrella lab. His vision was blurry from sleep and his arm was asleep due to the fact that he had been laying on it this entire time. He groaned and sat up.

The now very irritated brunet shook and slapped his arm to get it awake. Once the pin pricks of feeling rushed back to his arm, he stood up and sighed. Where was his room again?

He frowned and started down the hall. He would find it eventually. It wasn't like he had anywhere else to go.

It was around the time that all his senses came back to him that he realized that the entire hallway was dark. It was almost pitch black and Chris had the hardest time seeing even his own hand in front of his face. He snarled and yelled, "WESKER!" into the darkness of the labs.

He was frankly scared. He hated the dark. That was the worst place to ever be. Whether you were in the city or in a zombie infested land. In the dark anything and everything could take advantage of you. It left you with a feeling of emptiness and insecurity.

It reminded Chris of that night so many years ago. Back when he thought Wesker was a comrade.

XXX

Boots made soft sounds on the hardwood floor of a mansion as someone crept down the hallways trying not to be seen or heard. There was no light save for the moon filtering through the curtains of the windows.

The sound of someone swallowing thickly seemed almost too loud for this setting.

A gun trembled slightly in the scrappy young person's hands.

A hand moved over his mouth, and before he was able to scream, calming words left a pale pair of lips.

"Chris if you scream we will die. So just be quiet."

The brunet almost passed out from relief. He instantly felt better now that his captain was here. Having his back. Protecting him and warning him of every little danger.

He felt as if he could take on the world with this man at his side.

…

But he was so wrong.

Chris was now feeling the walls in panic. He didn't want to be left alone in these halls all by himself.

No. He wasn't by himself. In fact he was even worse off, because the person that was also here wanted him dead. Or worse. He really didn't want to know what the worse was but he didn't want to find out. He needed to get the hell out of here.

His heart was pounding in his chest.

What if Wesker had let out one of those screwed up experiments of his.

What if they were roaming the halls?

What if there was one stalking him right now?

He could feel cold sweat drip down his back.

Why was he reacting so badly to the dark like this?

Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome. That had to be the answer. The dark was home to anything and everything that wanted him dead. As well as eaten.

His hand brushed against a button and he desperately pushed at it. He didn't remember this. Maybe it would work and lead him to a place away from the darkness.

His heart thudded against his chest as he waited.

"Come on." He whispered into the blackness. "I'm a sitting duck. I have to keep moving." He almost begged to the door.

After a while of endless waiting he gave up. There was no point in hoping a locked door would open. He thought miserably as he edged away.

As he did so a very loud audible 'WHOOSH' sounded through the dark hallway. He looked back and he realized it was the elevator.

An elevator with the emergency power light on, the bluish hue brightening his sight. He quickly dove in and pressed the up button. He almost collapsed in relief when the doors shut. Not only was he getting out of the dark mass of that level. This was his chance out.

When he reached the very top level it was almost blinding. Everything was brightly lit and white. He looked around and saw that there was absolutely nothing here. Nothing living anyway. He saw a few choppers, a plane, and a door that said armory.

He grinned and made his way to the door. He opened it without any fuss. Which was a bit odd. Wasn't everything locked always in these places?

The power must have shut down or something. Then when it came back it over rode the locks. Wesker would have never let him out on purpose.

He grabbed the heavy duty pants they had there and boots and slipped them on. Next was the ammunitions belt along with the pistol holster. He slung a fully automatic gun onto his shoulder after he checked that it was fully loaded as well as a Russian military issued rifle. Those were always a good thing to keep around. If it could survive the cold and ice like that it, would serve him just fine. He holstered a high powered pistol and loaded his belt. He was tempted to add the bullet proof vest but that would just add more weight and wouldn't really be effective against Wesker in any case.

He crept out of the room and towards the hangar control box. Once he got that open he could take one of these babies and be free so he could go and strategize once more against Wesker—

"Chris, Chris, Chris." A voice from behind said in a mock tone of disappointment. "Do you honestly believe that a little power outage is going to help you escape me?" He chuckled darkly. "I thought you knew better than to underestimate me. Obviously I was wrong and I do apologize for that."

Chris spun around on his heel. "Bastard!" He growled at him and pulled out the pistol. "I'm getting out of here whether you like it or not."