@the4thsurvivor
Shadow of a memory from a lifetime ago, washes over him in a cold wave.
A candlelit dinner at a manor in the English countryside. He had only been invited there a handful of times in his youth. The place was cold and musty and devoid of life, but stuffed to the brim with opulent décor that was rotting away lost in the darkness of heavy curtains drawn over the tall windows.
Spencer set at the head of a carved wooden table. He issued orders in a calm, measured tone, and HUNK laid a gun down in front of him, before Albert had a chance to question anything. He stared at the weapon with his brow furrowed and jaw clenched for merely a moment, before hurriedly picking it up and feeling its weight in his hands. HUNK had trained him for a while, at that stage. He was a decent shot. But he had never killed anyone. They had human test subjects, few as they were, and Wesker had no lingering notions of his own innocence, but nonetheless, he had never shot someone. There were countless others at Spencer's disposal who could have taken the job and performed it far more efficiently. But it was not about the job.
It was a test of loyalty.
Spencer would look at him in such a peculiar manner whenever Wesker was summoned before him. Something about it turned his stomach. He could never quite explain it, but it only ignited his curiosity regarding the man and his true motives, further.
The blood of his mentor still drips from his glove and onto the stone floor. The storm outside rages on. Wesker doesn't move when he hears HUNK's footsteps, his gaze affixed at the roaring waves crashing into the cliffside. Yet, his first spoken words still feel so childish, and he fails to bite them back before he's spoken them out loud. He had been lied to, for far too long. But this was no lie. He knew it deep down. He had felt it when Spencer spoke those words. Something inside of him was set free, at last.
His hands curl into fists, and his back tenses. He could kill him; here and now. He cut through Spencer's security with no trouble. HUNK would be no different.
Oh, but he was.
Wasn't he?
Different.
Perhaps, there was more use in him, yet. Delightful as it would have been to indulge his anger, Wesker closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling, and relaxing his posture.
"You knew all along, I presume."
Of course Hunk had known. That was why he had been assigned to train him. It was foolish to think otherwise. HUNK was Umbrella's finest. He assisted Spencer with the more expensive assets and high profile targets. Not many had the privilege of being trained by the Grim Reaper. But, perhaps a part of him still wanted to hear him say it.
