Evil in REsidence

[Albert Wesker]

"That’s all you need to know right now. You’ll figure out the rest soon enough. I’ll be watching...and waiting."

The black void started to shimmer and ripple. Lack of light gave way to shadow. Shadow gave way to an omnipresent glow of pale white. Gravity surged forward to re=assert itself, dragging him down toward earth. He hit with a harsh, echoing thud. In a way he couldn't really describe, he just...hurt. Every inch of his body ached. On top of it all, there was a heavy feeling of weight on his body, a bone-deep sense of exhaustion that permeated absolutely every fiber of his being. Like going days upon days without so much as a wink of rest, during his old days as a scientist for Umbrella.

A shudder ran through his body, as a feeling beyond the suffocating exhaustion and pain reached his mind. Hands twitched, fingers curling inward like claws toward his palms. Splayed, loose hands became clenched fists, arms dragging slowly in toward his body. "Hng...nrgh..." Teeth ground together, grating with an unnatural volume in his ears as he slowly brought his arms up, forearms planting themselves on the ground. Slowly he pushed up, legs drawing in with minuscule, agonizing jerks of movement and he drew himself up off of the ground.

As his head left the ground, everything spun crazily. The world felt as if it pitched sideways, and he lurched with it, his body tumbling over to land sprawled out on his back. Deep, pained breaths through clenched teeth hissed in and out. Eyes finally cracked open, gold-orange orbs glimmering in the perpetual glare of white coming from all around. "What...what is this place?!" he snarled, voice rough and hoarse. And he immediately regretted his decision to speak, a fit of coughing and spluttering chasing his words. This was not what he had expected of wherever he would end up after his life ran its course. It had been so long since he'd felt such complete, genuine pain, even when alive that he'd almost forgotten what it was like. To be reminded of it here, in such a fashion, when he should have been stronger than ever and free of even minor pain...

Unacceptable.

His eyes blinked once, clearing the haze and squinting through the blinding glare out of his vision. With a hissing breath of agony, he planted his hands on the ground and pushed, drawing himself up into a sitting posture. Just a few paces away, there was a fountain. A large spire ran up the center, from which the water poured out and splashed down into the surrounding pool. Octagonal, and alternating in shades of red and white, the design of it was immediately apparent to him. "Umbrella..." he growled under his breath. He could just never escape it.

Less immediately apparent, however, was on the edge of the fountain. Neatly folded and sitting there, was a pair of sunglasses, gleaming softly in the directionless glare and illumination of whatever this place was.

This place was entirely too bizarre.