Pairing: Albert Wesker x reader
Warnings: kidnapping, experimentation
Disclaimer: I’m french and even though I’ve been learning English for ten years, it’s not perfect and I’m sorry if there are spelling or grammar mistakes. If English is your native language (or if you’re bilingual), I would really appreciate it if you could help me by correcting my errors. Just don’t be too harsh, please. :)
Request from AO3 : “can you do an age gap wesker/reader taking place during re5 where reader is the only other living person compatible with uroboros and he takes an interest in her?”
Young, 21 years old. A healthy lifestyle. A normal life. A normal family. Brilliant studies and honorable results. Maybe too curious for her own good.
For a few years, the number of DNA tests to find out about our origins, even the oldest ones, had been circulating on the Internet. Of course, millions of people had started to buy these famous kits, received by laboratories that analyzed the results and made them available to buyers. And even though they were making a lot of money from this trend to finance their other research, they had to find other sources of money… And that’s why the Internet, especially the dark web, existed. For years, the sales of consumer data was widespread on the Internet, but for more commercial purposes… Less dark. However, some laboratories were selling their “patients”/“buyers” informations to other laboratories, in return for funding.
Thus, Tricell possessed millions of information, crucial to research, that algorithms were constantly working on, finding from time to time, the file of a person considered interesting by a whole set of factors. Every month, new profiles were drawn to the attention of Tricell and the virologists. This allowed Wesker and his teams to send out proposals to act as guinea pigs in the most secret laboratories. The victims would disappear without a trace. The pharmaceutical company’s security and computer security departments worked so well that no one could suspect them.
Wesker had just shot his last lab rat, a 33-year-old Italian.
“The same age as your Christ! Come on, be proud, you look like the son of your imaginary God!” he had spat, with a sly smile. Wesker didn’t believe in God. He was God. No one else. Only he had the intelligence to destroy this world and build another one.
After going through the disinfection area and washing himself from head to toe with the utmost care, he had returned to his favorite lab room to take a look at the algorithm. A few minutes earlier, the software had sent him a notification on his cell phone, to warn him it had found an interesting profile. And even if he didn’t think he would discover anything more than usual, the scientist went there to find his ordinary place, where he would also take the opportunity to sort out his mails.
Once he was settled in his seat, he hurried to look at the notification. In fact, three profiles were interesting: two women, one man. When he stopped on the third one, he frowned, took off his famous sunglasses and made sure he wasn’t dreaming. He reread the information retained by the algorithm several times.
She was young, healthy, and most importantly, her genome structure resembled his, so he felt his pulse quicken.
“How is this possible? It must be a mistake,” he muttered.
Stunned and intrigued, Albert didn’t intend to give up there, when an incredible opportunity presented itself to him. He had to find out more, find her, and get his hands on her. First, he had to contact the other lab and give them enough money to get even a first and last name , with a mailing address. With a little luck, he would also get a phone number and an e-mail address.
With a smile on his face, he picked up his laptop.
“The game can begin… I can’t wait to hear who you are, Y/N L/N.”
The evening had started so well. Yet, you found yourself in a room you didn’t know, white, sterile, hospital like, strapped to a medical type leather chair. You couldn’t move, your arms at your side and your feet secure enough to not kick anyone. Ever since you woke up half an hour earlier, anxiety had been building up inside you. You felt you were being watched, behind one of the windows you couldn’t see through, because it was so opaque. On the other hand, through the other windows, you observed people, in white coats, pacing the corridors, each one more hurried than the other. Obviously, you weren’t in ahospital, no doctor would have tied you up like cattle…
Unless you had hit someone and had a temper tantrum once you were here… you thought.
Someone had drugged you at that party. It was obvious. And that, even if you had been watching your drink every moment. Or maybe the friend you had trusted with your drink had betrayed you. In your eyes, it was the only possibility. With a lump in your throat, you waited for an explanation and tried to control your breathing, about to hyperventilate.
If you weren’t in a hospital, where could you be? In a… laboratory? That would explain the white coats. At this thought, your heart rate quickened and cold sweat ran through your body, along with shivers of terror.
Then, after a few more minutes, a doctor walked past the windows, before entering the room, silent. He was tall. No, correction, he was giant. At least six feet tall. His blond hair was slicked back. Sunglasses were perched on his nose and prevented you from reading his eyes, though he didn’t look convenient. His thin lips formed a straight line, devoided of emotions. He must have been in his forties, much older than you, but he was attractive, charismatic. He moved almost gracefully.
“Hello, my dear. Excuse me for the straps, my assistants are not the most… delicate,” he commented, in a distinguished voice.
An eloquent voice, clear, almost bewitching. Yet, a dark aura was emanating from this man. He closed the distance and sat down on the rolling stool next to you while he watched you.
Wesker admired your features. Your body. You were a beautiful creature with a high potential. The only one who could, obviously, match him. You were perhaps the only other person in this world this compatible with Uroboros. If his experiments failed, it would be a waste, but he had no choice.
“What am I doing here?” you asked, panicking.
You tried to move for the umpteenth time, to no avail. Your eyes went down to his white coat, open to black clothes. His name was written: Dr. Wesker. Even in a panic, knowing a name was always a good thing.
“Y/N, has anyone ever told you how special you are?”
You shook your head negatively, eyebrows furrowed.
“Whatever. We’re going to discover your potential. To do that, I’ll start with with blood samples. My team will assign you to a room and-”
“I want to leave! I didn’t ask to be here!” you cut him off.
“I’m afraid you have no choice, dearheart.” he replied curtly, before turning to his equipment. He proceeded to draw blood like any other doctor, even going so far as to think your epidermis, where the needle had pierced the skin.
After collecting two vials of your blood, precious samples, the famous Dr. Wesker left the room without a word. A few minutes later, a team of men, armed with pistols, went to retrieve you before blindfolding you. They took you somewhere and locked you in a room. Miraculously, it wasn’t a medical room. The single bed was normal. There was a desk with pens, pencils and paper. There was a small flat screen TV on a wall. You had a sort of walk-in wardrobe, a bedside table and a bookcase with scientific books, but also fantasy novels. When you saw some of your favorite novels, your heart skipped a beat. As a bonus, the room had an adjacent bathroom, which didn’t keep any dangerous or sharp objects.
You were smart enough to understand the situation… They had kidnapped you and weren’t planning on releasing you anytime soon. Worse, they had orchestrated the whole thing from start to finish, spying on you to the point of knowing your tastes. Your thoughts turned to your poor family, who would soon be worried sick about your disappearance. Trembling like a leaf, you went to sit on the soft mattress and burst into tears.
What have I done to deserve this…?
No one entered your room, except for a man with a gun, a few hours later, with a tray of food in his hands, which he left on the doorstep. Silently, he left, making sure to lock the door.
With your appetite suppressed and your stomach in knots, you didn’t feel hungry at all.
You didn’t sleep all night, far too anxious… So, you decided to take a shower and reread your favorite book.
DAY 8 (½)
The results were impressive. Fruitful. Albert had spent the night on the blood test and studied the results. Traces of a strain of Progenitor were present in your blood. Only a very limited number of people carried it in them, the majority of whom were dead. Of the Wesker children, only he and Alex were left. Alex didn’t have a child. How could you have come into contact with such a virus?
He had finally gone to sleep for a few hours, then the next morning he had picked up a breakfast tray and headed for your room, in the same hallway as his apartments in this huge complex built by Tricell. At your door, he took out a magnetic card, used it and the door unlocked. He closed it behind him.
You were sitting on your bed, a book in your hands, your meal from the night before barely touched on your bedside table. Your stomach had been empty for over 24 hours. You were watching him, your eyebrows furrowed, the anger visible on your face.
“Good morning, dearheart.” he said, coming closer. He took a seat on the edge of the bed, while you moved as far away as possible, without bothering to answer. You closed your book and put it on the side, before crossing your arms. You obviously wanted an explanation. Who wouldn’t, after all?
“I see you haven’t eaten. You should get some strength.”
“I have a knot in my stomach. You owe me some explanations, don’t you?” you spat, squeezing the sheets between your fingers to the point of turning your knuckles white. You stared at this famous Wesker, whose presence exacerbated you as much as it awakened a strange feeling inside you. Your heartbeat quickened.
“As you must have guessed, you are in a laboratory, where we are conducting extraordinary researches that will change the world. Your blood contains something special, just like mine.”
He leaned forward and moistened his lips, a serious expression betraying the sympathy he was trying to convey. And that, it didn’t escape you. You weren’t drugged or stupid enough to think that this man had magnificent motives. If he did, he wouldn’t have kidnapped you, far from it.
“You’re about to make me laugh. I don’t think you’re a good person and I’m not special. Now, ask me the question that’s bothering you. That’s it, isn’t it? An interrogation?”
His lips curved for a second, and then he slid the tray over your legs, to summon you to fill your stomach. Obviously, this meant that you were going to be flabbergasted and to avoid an attack of faintness, linked to a hypoglycemia spike, which was itself infused by strong emotions, you had to eat. Even if you wanted to protest and throw the tray in his face, you knew that an incivility would cause you greater problems. With a sigh, you grabbed your fork and knife, then stuck it into the Salted Waffles with Poached Egg and Bacon and a berry smoothie. You usually hated eating a heavy breakfast in the morning, so you’d settle for cereal in milk, or a hot drink with a light snack. You wondered if he knew your tastes and wasn’t doing it on purpose to make your more angry and annoyed. After wolfing down half your plate, when hunger has taken over your stomach, you focus on him again.
“You’re smart, that’s a good point. I need to know more about your family. Would your parents have been subjected to any experiments?”
You nearly choked, eyebrows furrowed, and shook your head. Decidedly, this man had lost his mind.
“No. We’re normal.”
“I want you to draw me your family tree.”
“At your service, Doctor Wesker! Together, we will save the world!” you mocked, in a high-pitched voice.
Despite your acid remark, he didn’t raise his voice. Instead, he ordered you to finish your plate and drink your smoothie. Then, he brought you a sheet of paper and a pencil. Under his examining gaze, you tried to go back as far as you could before handing him your paper. None of the names on your list seemed familiar, so he went off to his lab to do some research, leaving you alone, bored and with monumental worries.
For his part, Wesker spent the morning researching your ancestors to find out who could be the source of the strain that ran through your veins. Even though he felt no pain, Wesker knew very well that if he were still perfectly human, this puzzle would have given him a headache. Yet, he was a tenacious man, who never gave up and always found a solution to his problem. At this moment, that solution was called Alex.
What do you think? There will be other parts, but I don’t know how many :)
Instagram : @carolinemertz_
AO3 : BetrayedWriter