In Captivity

Albert Wesker

Wesker paced the length of his office, his mind too occupied with Emma's capture -or rather recapture. He'd thought his mind was playing tricks on him, that moment just before he'd left her bedroom, after they'd had sex for the first time her eyes flashed gold. Hopeful wishing, he'd thought it. But there was no doubt when Leon and Chris took her away from him, her eyes flashed dangerously. Though this line of thought confused him, she hadn't been exposed to the virus, not by any of the doctors or himself. So how did she fuse with it so perfectly? The door opened and closed, drawing his attention back to the real world.

"Ms. O'Connor," he hummed, only minor annoyance touching his voice, as he stepped away from the window.

"She's gone, with all the information she's been exposed to." The redhaired woman hummed, amused with this predicament they found themselves in. "What's your plan now?'

"I'll find her and bring her back."

"She should be put down, like the dog she is!" Mira's voice echoed angrily. "You didn't listen to me then, so listen to me now. She WILL tell them EVERYTHING, and she WILL BETRAY you EVERY chance she gets. Kill her now, or lose your support from my Umbrella branch."

Her voice underlined the importance of what she was saying, as she crossed the room. Wesker said nothing, watching as Mira leaned across his desk, her long wine-colored hair falling over her shoulders. It was rare to find her hair curled and hanging, instead of pulled up. She was trying to entice him, play with him, to get what she wanted, something they both knew wouldn't work. His eyes flashed a dark red, before a shocked yelp echoed through the halls.

It's the first day on the job, and Emma was nervous, almost as nervous as when she just started and worried she'd get someone killed on day one. Her fingers played with the slight creases in her polo-shirt as her eyes took in her appearance. The bruises were long gone, leaving the smooth sun kissed flesh one even tone. There were very few evident scars left from her time in Umbrella, but the mental scars persisted. Thea only gave Emma permission to work again -for only half of the day, and no important jobs- because without anything to do, Emma started reverting into a jumpy creature. In her notes, Thea mentions this may be a way that helped Wesker get to Emma.

"Ready, or do you need a few more days?" Chris asked, leaning against the bedroom door jam.

Emma smiled, looking into the mirror, he was wearing his nice Khaki pants with forest green shirt. Chris often called his "lucky clothes," since they always managed to stay safe. If she wanted to get to work on time she'd have to leave in ten, fifteen, minutes. There was a feeling of uncertainty floating silently in the room, though Emma portrayed her old self, Chris knew she still wasn't ready for such a high stress job.

"Why the Lucky clothes?" Emma chuckled, her nose slightly wrinkling. "Is there something I don't know about your day?"

"No, I'm wearing these in honor of your return." Chris smiled, his body pushing from the wall.

Her smile faltered, as flashes of both her kidnapping and rescue danced around in her mind. Both Thea and herself, worked hard on distinguishing when and how Wesker got her to be so compliant. It was hard digging through the torturous parts of her captivity, little things like the way the knuckles of his fist fit so perfectly between her ribs, or how sweet words congratulated her on doing a good job, plagued her dreams. Thea called it conditioning, something akin to how we raise children and train animals, but to an extreme. Near death experiences being the punishments, and extravagant gifts to reward. There was no doubt that was how Umbrella's men and women stayed loyal.

Stockholm Syndrome, that's what Emma was suffering from, that's what her training should have nipped in the bud. One of Thea's many theories, was that Emma is a person so used to pleasing others, that even with her years of training she was still so very susceptible to the syndrome. Emma's assignment for the week, was to live for herself, rather than others, even if it meant saying no to others, a concept Thea imagined was difficult for her patient.