07-19-2017, 08:18 PM
Ada shifted, attempting to curtail the pained grimace trying to worm its way onto her face. One hand clutched at the gash over her hip, applying pressure to stem the flow. Warm blood swelled out from between her fingers. While she hoped Wesker hadn’t managed to hit an artery, he was enough of an anatomically-knowledgeable bastard to do just that. It would be just plain embarrassing to go down from something as simple as exsanguination …
“That’s a little substandard,” Ada taunted, lifting one eyebrow. “Do I need to give you some time to find your walker, old man?” her voice abruptly lowered to a stage whisper, eyes widening in faux naivety. “Viagra?”
The tick of his jaw and the silent hiss of vacated air was all the warning she received before Wesker was upon her. Leopard-like ferocity powered the flurry of strikes he threw her way. She sidestepped a wicked haymaker and, sensing an opportunity, stepped into her opponent's guard to deliver a vicious uppercut to the bottom of his jaw.
It was like getting into a boxing match with a cement wall. Ada shook out her fingers, cringing when her knuckles crunched in protest. Her free hand caught the blade that emerged from her clothing in a whisper of fabric, deft fingers poised to throw－
A jab too swift for her eyes to track struck her exposed shoulder, a bolt of pain drilling into the tightly-coiled nerves. The force of the impact loosened her grip and the stiletto blade struck the ground with a metallic ping! Four strong fingers wrapped around her throat before she could recover with Wesker’s thumb dug into her rabbit-quick pulse point. Ada clawed at his arm as her feet were wrenched from the floor, her legs dangling so that she was brought to standing on her tiptoes to avoid certain strangulation.
“You would do well to keep your tongue in check, Miss Wong, unless you are overeager to have it ripped out,” Wesker said, face morphing into a contemptuous sneer. His lips twitched upward, the barest hints of amusement in his voice, and Ada grimaced at the cold steel edge of the handgun tapping against her cheek. “Surely you understand… that the measure of regard I hold for your life is of a despicably low calibre.”
Ada blinked, trying to breathe around the goddamn velociraptor claws tightening around her neck. Was that a fucking pun?
No, no— that was unimportant. She could think about whatever he was saying later, because right now, in that moment, his gloating was buying her time. The entry wound over her hip, lacerated flesh stretching and shearing with every breath, throbbed in reminder of that.
Ada’s hands slipped from where they were scratching at Wesker’s arm, but almost immediately returned to trail up his chest. Perfectly-manicured fingernails traced warm pathways over every subtle groove of his clothing, pausing just over his collarbone. Sighing airily, she draped her arms over his shoulders in what would have seemed to be the beginning of a waltz to an outside observer, letting her body fall limp in his clutches.
As she had hoped, surprise became noticeable in the sudden tenseness of his shoulders and the brief slackening of his hold around her throat. The woman looked up into his face, eyelashes dusting dark shadows over her cheeks, her pink lips parting as if to speak. Her own clever eyes winked back at her in the reflection of his sunglasses, twinkling with veiled delight.
Mouth crooking into a smile, Ada sighed, “Oh, Albert, you’re so good at dirty talk.”
Her lips pulled back from her teeth in a manic grin, palms pressing down hard on his shoulders and shoving. It was enough to dislodge his fingers from around her neck, though she could already feel punishing bruises blooming beneath her skin. In an instant she was flipping up into the air, body twisting into a vertically inverted position with gravity threatening to send her toppling over. She crumpled downward in a plume of vibrant red, angling her body in midair so she could lock her legs in a vice-grip around his head.
An inhuman sound of rage came from the man below her, vibrating against the insides of her thighs, but the point of listening to her sense of self-preservation was long past. Unlike the other horrors Umbrella had created, Wesker’s virus was… about as dangerous as a kitten, but only in that it hopefully lacked the pathogen necessary to trigger mutation in others. Essentially, he could bite her all he wanted to little effect and Ada could strangle him to her heart’s content.
Pain and sweat clouded her vision and stung like vinegar in her eyes, a forest fire of desperation snarling in her breast. Her fingernails and knuckles tore at his head, shoulders, and face, anywhere she could reach. The woman did her best to resist Wesker’s attempts to rip her off, her back arching with fluid grace to avoid his grasping hands. Blood and skin collected under her fingernails, trails of ripped skin slicing across his countenance, the clusters of muscle over his arms resistant to her touch. The dead pulse at his neck leapt like a rabid dog straining against its chains. It was satisfying and sickening in equal measure.
Tiring of this little game, Wesker grasped the secret agent’s legs firmly and pitched towards the ground, dragging Ada along for the ride.
They crashed to the pristine Nexus floor, though it wasn’t so pristine anymore. Syrupy-black blood streaked across the hospital-white ground, a landscape of violence spiking in long, thin veins around the fountain’s perimeter. Small droplets freckled the ground like an afterthought, congealing in the large, lethargic puddle of red beginning to pool under their tangled bodies.
Cruel fingers dug further still into the bleeding bullet-slice on her leg, pressing and sending shockwaves of numbing pain straight down to the bone. A raw twinge came from her hip and a trickle of warmth trailed down her side, the wound rupturing and spitting out gouts of blood. Crushed under the superhuman's full weight, all Ada could do was wring out one of her knives and swipe it in a sawing motion in the direction of the offending arm, bucking her hips in the hopes of throwing him off.
Ada’s heart stuttered in her chest as Wesker’s elbow slammed backwards into her solar plexus, tears blurring her vision and her lungs hiccupping around a choked gasp. The explosive report of Samurai Edge shattered her eardrums, but her struggling had knocked his aim somewhat off-kilter, the bullet shooting into the fountain-pond's surface with a suction-y fwhorp and sending up a silvery splash like a fallen comet.
Wesker disentangled himself from their pile-up of murderous intent, chest heaving in triumph. He turned just in time to see Ada dash backward and sink into a half-crouch, shifting onto the balls of her feet so as not to slip in the wash of gore covering the ground.
She sucked in a sharp, shallow breath when she realized the ever-present sunglasses had been dislodged. Long, red welts were scored across the ridges of nose and cheeks from where she had raked her fingernails over his face, his ordinarily perfectly-styled hair reduced to utter disarray, blonde strands spiking out in wild directions. Most startling of all, however, were the fiery orange eyes glaring back at her, the reptilian pupils sending a paralyzing shudder down her spine. No, Wesker wasn’t human... Not at all.
Sensing her unease, Wesker’s teeth bared in a frightening grin. “Getting cold feet already?”
A short click! and the unfolding of a bulky crossbow in Ada’s hands served as answer enough. “Fat chance, old man.”
“That’s a little substandard,” Ada taunted, lifting one eyebrow. “Do I need to give you some time to find your walker, old man?” her voice abruptly lowered to a stage whisper, eyes widening in faux naivety. “Viagra?”
The tick of his jaw and the silent hiss of vacated air was all the warning she received before Wesker was upon her. Leopard-like ferocity powered the flurry of strikes he threw her way. She sidestepped a wicked haymaker and, sensing an opportunity, stepped into her opponent's guard to deliver a vicious uppercut to the bottom of his jaw.
It was like getting into a boxing match with a cement wall. Ada shook out her fingers, cringing when her knuckles crunched in protest. Her free hand caught the blade that emerged from her clothing in a whisper of fabric, deft fingers poised to throw－
A jab too swift for her eyes to track struck her exposed shoulder, a bolt of pain drilling into the tightly-coiled nerves. The force of the impact loosened her grip and the stiletto blade struck the ground with a metallic ping! Four strong fingers wrapped around her throat before she could recover with Wesker’s thumb dug into her rabbit-quick pulse point. Ada clawed at his arm as her feet were wrenched from the floor, her legs dangling so that she was brought to standing on her tiptoes to avoid certain strangulation.
“You would do well to keep your tongue in check, Miss Wong, unless you are overeager to have it ripped out,” Wesker said, face morphing into a contemptuous sneer. His lips twitched upward, the barest hints of amusement in his voice, and Ada grimaced at the cold steel edge of the handgun tapping against her cheek. “Surely you understand… that the measure of regard I hold for your life is of a despicably low calibre.”
Ada blinked, trying to breathe around the goddamn velociraptor claws tightening around her neck. Was that a fucking pun?
No, no— that was unimportant. She could think about whatever he was saying later, because right now, in that moment, his gloating was buying her time. The entry wound over her hip, lacerated flesh stretching and shearing with every breath, throbbed in reminder of that.
Ada’s hands slipped from where they were scratching at Wesker’s arm, but almost immediately returned to trail up his chest. Perfectly-manicured fingernails traced warm pathways over every subtle groove of his clothing, pausing just over his collarbone. Sighing airily, she draped her arms over his shoulders in what would have seemed to be the beginning of a waltz to an outside observer, letting her body fall limp in his clutches.
As she had hoped, surprise became noticeable in the sudden tenseness of his shoulders and the brief slackening of his hold around her throat. The woman looked up into his face, eyelashes dusting dark shadows over her cheeks, her pink lips parting as if to speak. Her own clever eyes winked back at her in the reflection of his sunglasses, twinkling with veiled delight.
Mouth crooking into a smile, Ada sighed, “Oh, Albert, you’re so good at dirty talk.”
Her lips pulled back from her teeth in a manic grin, palms pressing down hard on his shoulders and shoving. It was enough to dislodge his fingers from around her neck, though she could already feel punishing bruises blooming beneath her skin. In an instant she was flipping up into the air, body twisting into a vertically inverted position with gravity threatening to send her toppling over. She crumpled downward in a plume of vibrant red, angling her body in midair so she could lock her legs in a vice-grip around his head.
An inhuman sound of rage came from the man below her, vibrating against the insides of her thighs, but the point of listening to her sense of self-preservation was long past. Unlike the other horrors Umbrella had created, Wesker’s virus was… about as dangerous as a kitten, but only in that it hopefully lacked the pathogen necessary to trigger mutation in others. Essentially, he could bite her all he wanted to little effect and Ada could strangle him to her heart’s content.
Pain and sweat clouded her vision and stung like vinegar in her eyes, a forest fire of desperation snarling in her breast. Her fingernails and knuckles tore at his head, shoulders, and face, anywhere she could reach. The woman did her best to resist Wesker’s attempts to rip her off, her back arching with fluid grace to avoid his grasping hands. Blood and skin collected under her fingernails, trails of ripped skin slicing across his countenance, the clusters of muscle over his arms resistant to her touch. The dead pulse at his neck leapt like a rabid dog straining against its chains. It was satisfying and sickening in equal measure.
Tiring of this little game, Wesker grasped the secret agent’s legs firmly and pitched towards the ground, dragging Ada along for the ride.
They crashed to the pristine Nexus floor, though it wasn’t so pristine anymore. Syrupy-black blood streaked across the hospital-white ground, a landscape of violence spiking in long, thin veins around the fountain’s perimeter. Small droplets freckled the ground like an afterthought, congealing in the large, lethargic puddle of red beginning to pool under their tangled bodies.
Cruel fingers dug further still into the bleeding bullet-slice on her leg, pressing and sending shockwaves of numbing pain straight down to the bone. A raw twinge came from her hip and a trickle of warmth trailed down her side, the wound rupturing and spitting out gouts of blood. Crushed under the superhuman's full weight, all Ada could do was wring out one of her knives and swipe it in a sawing motion in the direction of the offending arm, bucking her hips in the hopes of throwing him off.
Ada’s heart stuttered in her chest as Wesker’s elbow slammed backwards into her solar plexus, tears blurring her vision and her lungs hiccupping around a choked gasp. The explosive report of Samurai Edge shattered her eardrums, but her struggling had knocked his aim somewhat off-kilter, the bullet shooting into the fountain-pond's surface with a suction-y fwhorp and sending up a silvery splash like a fallen comet.
Wesker disentangled himself from their pile-up of murderous intent, chest heaving in triumph. He turned just in time to see Ada dash backward and sink into a half-crouch, shifting onto the balls of her feet so as not to slip in the wash of gore covering the ground.
She sucked in a sharp, shallow breath when she realized the ever-present sunglasses had been dislodged. Long, red welts were scored across the ridges of nose and cheeks from where she had raked her fingernails over his face, his ordinarily perfectly-styled hair reduced to utter disarray, blonde strands spiking out in wild directions. Most startling of all, however, were the fiery orange eyes glaring back at her, the reptilian pupils sending a paralyzing shudder down her spine. No, Wesker wasn’t human... Not at all.
Sensing her unease, Wesker’s teeth bared in a frightening grin. “Getting cold feet already?”
A short click! and the unfolding of a bulky crossbow in Ada’s hands served as answer enough. “Fat chance, old man.”
Quote:1,284 - Microsoft Word.
![[Image: 18yM1ww.gif]](http://i.imgur.com/18yM1ww.gif)
She's a Killer Queen!
Gunpowder, gelatine, dynamite with a laser beam,
Guaranteed to blow your mind!
- "Killer Queen", Queen