Ephemeral Permanence

Ephemeral Permanence

by Ticklefish

dedicated to barb

*****************


I didn't feel fear anymore.

We had busted a nest of counterfeiters the day before. It had turned nasty. They had teeth. Shiny, metal teeth that spat at us from their weapons. Our intel was poor, we weren't expecting them to have assault rifles.

However, it was their panic that eventually gave us the upper hand. We weren't scared, we moved like machines from point to point, taking down each enemy with precise, deliberate shots. I strolled across the warehouse, every step measured, my stride perfectly calculated.

I swivelled here, fired and took one man down. I turned there and took another before he could even think of reacting. It was like they were moving underwater. I had all the time in the world. My gun, previous like a lump of lead in my hand, felt as light as a feather to me. My accuracy was perfect, I was unstoppable.

We didn't kill, of course. But a bullet to the arm or the leg takes the fight out of all but the most foolhardy.

In minutes, it was all but done. Seven crooks down and secured with no casualties to my team. Only one was left, a boy of no more than 14. He stood with his back to a crate, his body shaking so badly the knife in his hand was a blur.

I strode to within a few feet of him. I was near enough that he could easily get me yet I knew I was safe. If he attacked, I could easily deal with him. He was just a child.

He looked at me, looked at my sunglasses staring back at him. I put my hands on my hips, raised an eyebrow and gave him the full power of the Captain Wesker aura.

He gave.

The knife clattered to the floor and he thrust his hands up into the air as high as they would go. His tan pants were dark around his groin and there was an acrid smell in the air. I turned my back on him and walked away. The others could cuff him. He was beneath me.

We had been taken by surprise.

They had outgunned us.

But we had won through.

We had taken them.

I had taken them.

That night, I was with Chris, alone in his apartment and I took him too.

The virus worked.

Just three words. So simple yet the story behind them was so complex.

The virus worked.

It worked brilliantly.

I had woken up in Will's lab only a few minutes after I had injected myself. He had been given just enough time to get into a serious panic.

I wasn't panicked. There was a slight throb at the back of my head where I must have hit it on the floor but even that faded as I thought about it. My whole body felt strange, as though electric fire was racing through every cell. Everything seemed brighter, every sound seemed clearer.

For the first time, I felt truly, completely at ease.

There was no panic, no fear. Only a calm strength. It felt amazing.

William was worried, of course. He wanted to perform all manner of tests which I put up with for a while. But they proved fruitless. My body had taken the virus in like an old friend. There was not a single adverse reaction at all.

It worked.

He was still cautious, though. I wanted to introduce it to the rest of S.T.A.R.S. immediately. It was just what we needed to become the premier police unit in the country. No, the world. But Will was having none of it.

"We need to do more tests," he said over and over again, "we need to make certain it'll work on everybody. We must be careful."

I didn't agree. I felt fine. I felt more than fine. I felt like I was alive for the first time in my whole life.

But I let him have his way.

I felt so great I would have said yes to pretty much anything.

Most of the team didn't notice the difference. None of them knew me well enough, I suppose. One did though.

Chris noticed something was different straight away. I didn't tell him what it was, he would experience it for himself soon enough.

That night, our lovemaking was on a different level. Every touch of him sent me higher up the ladder than ever before. And I responded in kind. We had no sleep at all until the sun was high in the sky. Our bodies ached but we couldn't have been happier.

Finally though, we were done. I lay under the sheet, my head resting on my arm, as I watched him. He sat on the edge of the bed and stared out of the window. My apartment faced south and the sunlight shone lovingly upon his skin.

I marvelled at the way the shadows cast by my blind made a pattern on his chest. He was a very handsome man, that Chris Redfield, and he was all mine.

"Where did that come from?" he asked, his gaze still on the outside world through the glass.

"Where did all what come from?" I replied coyly.

I stretched under the cover. My whole body felt alive.

"You know what I mean. You, this, everything. You've never had this sort of stamina before."

"What's wrong? Don't you like it?"

"No, of course I do." Chris replied. "It's just, I dunno, a little different, that's all."

"i didn't hear you complaining earlier." I pointed out.

"I'm not complaining. Really, I'm not. But..."

He tailed off, unsure what to say. I didn't know what to say either so we both spent a moment or two in silence, each lost in our own thoughts.

I didn't know what was going through his head, truly I didn't. If I had, I would have known what to say.

Then he seemed to come to a decision and his frown vanished, to be replaced by a smile.

"You wouldn't have heard me complaining anyway," he said with a grin, "I seem to recall my mouth was full a lot."

I couldn't help but laugh at that.

"You are very good at that, Chris. You always hit your target." I replied.

"Hey," he said, "I am the best marksman on the force, y' know."

"Want to stay in practise?" I asked and threw back the cover. I was of course quite erect.

"Oh my god!" he laughed, "You're terrible! It's lunch time, we need to eat!"

"So eat." I waved in an offhand manner at my crotch.

He didn't need much more encouragement.


***

"You never really loved me, did you?"

I'm not sure what to say to that.

I could deny it and slowly work her back around to being completely devoted to me. It would take a while but I could probably do it. Although I'm fairly certain that my having killed her might make her a bit resistant to my charms.

However, if I admit it, if I admit that my feelings for her had always been false, that gives her the advantage. She'll know something I kept from her for five years and she'll have proof that I lied to her.

I decide to stay quiet. It seems the safest course.

"I don't really know." I say.

She looks surprised which is exactly how I feel. I hadn't intended to say that, I hadn't intended to say anything at all.

"You don't know?" she asks incredulously, "How can you not know?"

She gets off her chair and stands before me, a hand on her hip. Her other hand, index and middle finger extended, is used to poke me in the chest.

"You should know. You always told me I was going to be your queen. You always told me you and I were going to rule the world together. I gave up everything for you. There were plenty of other men out there, I could have had my pick of any of them, but no, I had to stay with you. I believed you and you betrayed me. You bastard!"

I've seen her this angry before, but never with me. With my help, and the help of my gun, she had worked her way to a very high position in her company and she fought like a cat to stay there. Having that temper aimed at me is a little unnerving. She didn't dare say a cross word to me when we were alive, clearly she doesn't think me a threat anymore.

I need to regain the high ground, make her subservient to me again.

"Don't give me that, Excella. You knew exactly what you were getting into ever since we first met. Don't try to pretend you didn't, you were hardly an angel yourself. Just how much did Daddy have to pay that poor Filipino boy?"

She glowers and draws herself up to her full height, which isn't very tall. She stops poking me and her fingers curl as if she's about to claw my eyes out. I'm not worried, not anymore. She's just as easy to rile as ever. I'm in control of my emotions, I have the upper hand.

Then she slaps me, the back of her hand hitting my cheek hard enough to make it sting.

"You're a bastard, Albert, you really are." she says, turning on her heel and walking back towards her chair. "You just won't ever say sorry for anything, will you? You just won't admit you're wrong."

She sits back down and looks angrily at the floor.

My hand is still at my cheek. I have been slapped before, of course I have, and by women more attractive and more expensive than her. Yet, somehow, this hurts more. I sit back down at the table. My glass is still empty and I find myself wishing for a refill.

I feel upset and I don't know why. Excella meant nothing to me, her feelings couldn't possibly have that much effect on me. A few seconds ago, it was like I was my old self again. Strong, powerful, in control. But that slap has stunned me. I wasn't expecting it. I was expecting an attack, a verbal assault, not a slap. My cheek has recovered but I still hurt somewhere inside.

Excella sighs and looks me in the eye. Her eyes are moist and her cheeks are flushed.
"I think we're done here," she says, "you're never going to change."

"I don't need to change." I don't know what I mean by that, my mouth is on autopilot.

She sighs again and picks up her drink. I look at my glass, it remains empty. Apparently the afterlife has decided I've had enough.

"I'll leave you in peace, Albert. You can do what you want." she says quietly, "Just do me one thing."

"What?" I reply.

"Tell me why you killed them. Finish your story."

I know exactly what she means and it gives me something to say.

"I didn't intend to kill them. Not at first. It was all Chris's fault."

"Why," she says, "what was wrong with Chris?"

"That's just it." I say without thinking, my thoughts elsewhere, "Nothing was wrong with him. He was perfect."


***