Chapter Text
''You gave me your immortal kiss.''
― Anne Rice ―
Gone with the sin
1. Cuts and scratches
Strips of flesh lay scattered across the floor — soft, pink ribbons of tissue that bore a sickening resemblance to raw bacon.
They curl in on themselves, revealing a red and yellow belly — fat and dermis glistening under the sterile lab light.
Subject F015 no longer screams: not after her vocal cords have been severed, whitish threads thrown into a basin where a crushed eyeball also floats.
"I've always hated your voice." the woman tells her, a blood-stained scalpel dangling between her fingers.
"Listening to you hurt my ears." she adds, sighing.
Subject F015 shakes her head, blinking — her good eye trying to focus on the profile of the woman speaking to her, a smear of white flecked with red that loses clarity with every breath.
"I could have done it whenever I wanted." she continues, bored. "But then there would have been documents to sign, reasons to give, justifications to invent." she explains neutrally.
''And frankly, I didn't really feel like doing it for someone like you." she giggles, lightly, as if she'd just told the best joke in the world.
Subject F015 opens her mouth, but no sound comes out — she leans forward, but the agony explodes, giving her the sensation of being split into hundreds of pieces, almost as if her skin were opening in a blaze of pain and burning.
The woman stands up, picking something from the tray of instruments and then moving to her height.
"Do it again." she urges, and Subject F015 groans, refusing to look at her.
The woman remains silent for a few seconds, then places the mirror on the floor and takes a few steps back.
"You were stupid when you tried to steal the research from Level 3." she says, monotonously.
"But when you tried to do it with Albert, I realized you weren't just stupid." she murmurs smoothly. "But also arrogant."
Subject F015 presses her lips together, gritting her teeth, and when she tenses one shoulder, it feels like the skin is peeling away from the rest of her body, sliding downward and...
Plotch.
"Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who in this land is fairest of all?" the woman chants, and F015 wants to scream.
She can't.
She inhales sharply.
I'm falling apart, I'm falling apart, I'm falling apart and...
"You, Angela." the woman whispers, and the mirror is before her again.
No.
The woman smiles at her from behind the steel frame.
No.
Horror stops her heart.
He looks at her, and Alex continues to clean her hands with meticulous, precise attention, wiping the towel between each finger and even under her nails.
Wesker silently studies what remains of Angela Sloane, approaching the chair in the center of the lab and taking care to avoid the pink streaks that decorate the floor in a strange fan of flesh and blood.
He tilts his head to the right, observing Angela's terrified expression — her body a mosaic of cuts and wounds that had surgically peeled away the various layers of skin, reaching deep into the skin.
"Original." he tells her, and Alex tosses the towel into the sink, staring at her hands and then turning them palms up.
"How long did it take?" he asks, interested.
"A week." she replies, frowning when she notices a small rusty stain between her middle and index fingers.
"Tenacious."
"I avoided the large vessels for that reason." Alex replies haughtily. "First, I let the serums and body fluids evaporate." she explains, turning to him. "Then, when I saw the first signs of necrosis, I let the infection run its course."
Wesker straightens his back, sensing Alex's presence at his side — argan oil and blood surrounding her.
"It's meticulous work." he confirms, gesturing with a jerk of his chin toward Angela's flayed form.
"I can be patient." Alex concludes, and at that statement Wesker lets out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a grunt, shaking his head.
"I can.” she insists petulantly.
Wesker falls silent, catching her wrist mid-swing as she tries to strike him; he brings her hand to his lips, lingering on the sensation of Alex's skin — soft, warm.
Alive.
Alex looks at him and smiles.