Chrisker One-Shots

Blow

"I tire of us meeting like this, Chris." Albert Wesker quipped with a tad bit of annoyance, lips tipping into a feral smirk as his venomous eyes watched his enemy try and look for a way out.

This abandoned Umbrella facility was too large for one to escape without guidance and since he had Chris Redfield right where he wanted him, he was not going to let this opportunity slip from his fingers. Although he may have had a clue why the former S.T.A.R.S member was scouring this building, there was something else he had in mind.

Chris turned around after failing to find an exit, sweat shining persistently across his forehead. He didn't look too worse for wear but he felt the throbbing in his lower back from where Wesker had roughly kicked him. He was sure it was going to bruise heavily later but that was the least of his worries when faced with the man he loathed. His former Captain, traitor and Umbrella lap dog throughout everything.

Wesker had to gall to stand there and smirk, the bright red somehow still shining through his black opaque sunglasses. Chris gritted his teeth in anger, keeping his Beretta trained on the man with his trembling index finger against the trigger. Why was he so nervous? He couldn't really answer that due to how scared he was right now, his heart pounding being a constant reminder.

"What do you want, Wesker?" He meant to sound as imposing as possible but he heard the small quake in his voice.... he was scared. Absolutely terrified. Being locked in a machinery room with the devil himself was making him scared. He didn't feel good about this.

As if Wesker could sense his heightened fear, he smirked but made sure to adjust his sunglasses before coming a bit closer. His black boots clicked softly on the steel floor grating every time he got closer, leaving Chris with a false sense of safety due to how gentle his approaching pace was. Wesker wasn't gentle at all though and Chris felt his heart pound as the blonde kept coming closer.

Wesker made a clicking sound with his tongue, the small gesture so condescending. "What don't I want with you, Chris? Don't you realize that we are bound to have these continuous meetings? That our fates have been bonded forever?" Chris felt a sharp throb in his temple then, gasping out in pain once he realized that Wesker had struck him hard with enough force to send him flying onto his back.

Falling to his knees, Chris clutched the crown of his temple as Wesker chuckled darkly, adjusting the leather glove on his right hand. He hissed in pain when the blonde gripped his wrist tightly, roughly twisting it around so his pistol could fall from his hand. The blonde smirked, keeping a steely grip on the now bruising wrist before kicking the fallen gun off to the left. Chris gripped his wrist after it was freed, rocking a bit to try and get the intense pain to subside.

"When are you going to understand that you'll always be at the mercy of my hand? This meeting was inevitable and you'll never be able to forget it." The brunette scoffed despite his thunderous headache and burning wrist, lowering his hand so he could stare into his reflection.

"You're crazy, Wesker. You'll do anything to stay in control and even then, it's not enough for you. You make me sick." Chris spat on the tip of Wesker's boot then, not caring how disrespectful that was on his part.

Wesker stepped back to survey the saliva shining on the leather, making a soft 'tsk' before pulling out a small packet from his inner coat pocket.

Chris watched him with cautious eyes, feeling a sudden rush of anxiety as the blonde searched around before finally producing what looked like a white packet, shaped like a rectangle. He had no clue what it was, clenching his trembling fingers tightly as he almost immaculately opened it, only to let out the tight breath he had been holding in once he saw it was just a tissue.