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“Just a little longer, can you do that for me?” The voice above you spoke out loud enough for your ears to ring, clear and pronounced among the humming of your heart monitor and the clanging of metal instruments being hit against each other. You lulled your head back ever so slightly.
The smell hit you first. Sterile, chemical, toxic, tickling your nostril hairs, hitting your brain with such intense and unpleasant power you felt immediate nausea before swallowing it back down. It felt suffocating, throat tightening around the intrusion of oxygen like it was an unsolicited guest. Like every breath you took in was gradually shortening your life span, stripping you of whatever life remained within you. Like a python had itself curled around your neck. Muffled gasps escaped from your swollen, bruised lips. It was hard to tell if you were making much of an attempt at refusing and disobeying the doctor’s orders. To Albert, it was as though you were whining out docilely. He hummed in acknowledgment.
You kept your eyes shut tightly, allowing an overflow of tears to coat your already damp and clammy face. Not ready to face the perpetrator behind the despicable abuse you had been subjected to against your will for three long, dreadful hours.
You attempted to thrash against the binds and restraints that held you down, ankles and wrists pinned to the medical bedding with a bruising amount of force. To Wesker, you were merely twitching, letting out stuttered moans at the splitting agony that wrecked your form. Your lethargic grunts amused the imposing man, catching an earful a debauched chuckle you’d grown accustomed to through your visit with him. Beads of greasy sweat rolled down your abdomen, coating you in a faint layer of uncomfortable filth that tainted your body.
”You’ll be good for me, won’t you?” Then, two gloved fingertips came to your chin. You felt the pull and drag of your face, forcing you into a submissive nod that truly represented the power imbalance between you two. The lack of a right to consent.
Attempting to free yourself from his threatening and controlling grasp, you spat out—or more so dribbled and drooled—against the rubber latex. Your eyes cracked open just the slightest to catch the glint of his daggers for teeth, baring his fangs in a predatory grin at your attempt at disobedience. His thumb slowly prodded at your bitten lips, and instinctively, your lips pulled him in, suckling against the latex material while your raw, burning eyes fluttered shut once more.
It was always much easier to give in.
”It pains me to see you cry like this. You know this.” His tone was stoic, sharp, and void of all familiarity and soothing it once provided. You allowed your head to fall back lazily against the plush pillow that cradled your skull, the only semblance of warmth and comfort provided to you these past few months, sparse among the prodding and splitting of wounds being reopened. Emotional and physical.
”If you behave, I’ll consider anaesthesia. Wouldn’t that be nice, hm?” His tone returned to its soft nature, finding entertainment in the many emotions you’d displayed. So theatrical, his act, his puppet strung along to play his games. You felt the prodding of a scalpel being thrusted into your smooth skin, heard the mechanical and painful noises of the overhead light being rearranged, angled to point towards the fresh, bloodied slice. The metal rubbed against itself, squeaking out in mockery of the agonising whines that left your trembling lips. Your fingernails dug into the fabric beneath you, twisting and bunching it up, a futile attempt at composure before a sob wrecked through your weakened form.
Weeks of medical procedures tended to have an impact on your sanity, it seemed.
”I know, I know.” He hummed softly, the aroma of his spiced cologne hit you. Your doctor. Dr. Wesker.
”I was going to give you a break– I know, I promised. But, you cry so prettily, I couldn’t help myself.” You could hear the faint amusement in his voice, the glee in the way the light source would reflect against your damp cheeks, flushed and ruined as beads of emotion continued to slide down your chin. Your displeasure was his enjoyment. His voice displayed attempts at concealing the power and joy your agony brought him. It was fruitless. You’d heard it all.
You winced out when you felt the blade hit your bone. Dragging the scalpel along the inside of the now opened wound, he taunted you using the instruments to please himself. To overwhelm you with terror and despair. Using the authority and power he had to break you down, crumble you, stomp on you as if you were meaningless, a stain beneath his perfectly polished shoes. A stark contrast to the bloodied rags beneath your bare, exposed body. Just another subject for testing.
But, you weren’t.
Oh, you were so much more than that.
Even he knew it.
Latex rubbed against your cheeks once more, thumb rolling over the fresh tears that threatened to spill if he was even the slightest bit cruel with his words. Your eyes reopened, struggling against the fatigue that was so tempting to succumb to. The buzzing and beating of your heart monitor spiked as he gazed at you darkly through his eyelashes. You were a helpless witness to pure and unadulterated evil.
“Tell me, beg for the anaesthesia. I may just give it to you.” Continuing with the medical procedure, you pounced at the opportunity. Laid out in front of you, served on a golden platter. Tempting you to beg for such a basic and necessary part of surgery. As long as you’d beg for it, give him your best eyes to garner whatever sympathy he was capable of.
”Doctor, Please– I need it, please.” You whined out, a plead for mercy.
He chuckled lowly, a sound of pure laughter, before he stifled it. Remaining the composure he typically held. He reached for a mask beneath the bed before placing it over your face. It was connected to something else, but you couldn’t find it in you to care as you took a gulp of air. The immediate relief sending you into a state of peace and serenity, far from the facility you were confined to. It tugged at your limbs, pulled you under with the promise that it would all be over soon. You wouldn’t feel it, you’d be nothing once more.
Until he decided to play with you again.