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Summary
Slimy rope curled around your ankles, jerking you back into place—albeit upside down. Blood rushed again, blinding you for a few moments while you figured out how you were being held. More limbs grabbed your wrists, waist, and neck, flipping you upright. This time, Wesker wasn’t close enough to muffle your shriek.
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Waking up in a cold cell isn't the best morning you've ever had, but it gets so, so much worse once Wesker gets his hands (and other things) on you.