Side Effects May Include...

Chapter 5:

That night was the first night since Chris had first woken up in the laboratory that he actually had a dream, and then remembered it when he woke up. In his dream, the infection had fully assimilated into his body, and he was completely under Wesker’s control. He jerked awake, and nearly fell out of the bed. Untangling his legs from the sheets, he dragged himself out of bed. If his nightmare was any indication, he was going to have to make a move fast if he was going to cure himself.

The first problem he needed to solve, however, was finding a way to get out of the room. He paced the length of his room for a few minutes, pondering his options. The door was out, seeing as he didn’t have the access code. Unable to come up with any other ideas, Chris rolled his eyes, exhaling frustration. It was then that he noticed the air conditioning vent on one of the walls, close to the ceiling. Grabbing one of the chairs from the other side of the room, he climbed up to take a closer look at the vent. It’s going to be close… he decided, but he was determined to squeeze himself through the vent.

It’s the only way… he thought. Somehow, he managed to take the screws out of the corners of the vent cover. With a moderate amount of difficulty, Chris scrambled up into the vent. He didn’t really have a specific idea as to where he was going, so he started off in the same general direction in which he’d gone the previous day.

After about ten minutes, Chris heard voices from somewhere below him, and froze in his tracks. The sounds appeared to be coming from another vent further ahead of Chris. He inched forward until he could peer down through the vent into the room below. In the room, Chris saw two young scientists in matching white lab coats. He could tell from their voices that they were the same two men who had first been assigned to watch him; the same two men whom Wesker had called “hopelessly inept.” Chris was slightly surprised that the two of them were still alive. He strained his ears, trying to catch a part of what they were talking about.

“We have to go now,” one of them said urgently. The other one swore.

“I know that, but you know I have to close this first,” he said.

“There’s not time. Come on!” shouted the first one.

“Ugh, fine!” the second one said, pushing his chair back with a loud scrape. Then, the two of them hurried out of the room, letting the door shut behind them with a slam. Without stopping to think what the scientists had been so worried about, Chris carefully opened up the vent below him, and climbed down into the room. Unsurprisingly, the room was yet another laboratory. Instead of bookshelves, however, this room held shelves and shelves full of cages. Upon closer inspection, Chris realised that, inside the cages, were gerbils.

What the hell could he need gerbils for?” Chris wondered to himself, and then he realised; he probably didn’t want to know. He slowly made his way across the lab to a desk that was heavily laden down with books and stacks of paper. Up on the computer screen was a page full of information, apparently documenting the behavioural patterns of the gerbils. He took a closer look at the screen and found that it was a file in a larger database. He wondered if, maybe, there could be a file about him somewhere in the database. Sitting down in front of the computer, Chris clicked out of the gerbil file, and went looking for an index of some sort. A few minutes later, Chris had opened up a search feature contained in the database. Finally… he thought. He looked down at the keyboard and typed into the search box, “Redfield, Chris,” and then decided to type in the rest of his first name. Chris then pressed the ‘enter’ button and attempted to be patient as the computer searched through all the files.

Several minutes later, the computer beeped signaling that it had finished searching. Chris was slightly surprised to find that there was not only one file about him, but twenty. He selected one at random, and opened it up. It was full of photos of him at his apartment, at work, walking outside, and other random places.

What the hell? Chris thought, scrolling down through the pictures. Thoroughly creeped out, Chris closed out of the file with all the pictures, and opened another one. The second file contained pages upon pages of Chris’ old medical records. After skimming through the pages, Chris closed the second file as well. The third file he opened seemed to be a report detailing what had happened to Chris since he’d been taken from his apartment. Bits of the report were circled, and there were notes next to the circled parts in the margins. The notes may have been in English, but they made no sense whatsoever to Chris. He realised that the report would probably be a good thing for him to have for reference. He printed the report out, folded it, and stuffed it into his pocket. He then began searching the database for information about his infection. He was only slightly surprised to find out that Wesker had invented the virus himself. There was plenty of information about the chemical properties of the virus, and the unfortunate fates of the hosts whom the virus had ‘rejected.’ There was little to no information about a cure, or a method to combat the effects of the virus on those who had been ‘accepted.’

As he was getting ready to close the database and give up, Chris noticed a small paragraph at the bottom of a page about a substance that was used to dilute the virus to the point that it could be administered to humans.

That’s it! Chris thought. I’ll get my hands on a bunch of this stuff, and I’ll be fine. Take that, Wesker! Grinning to himself, Chris printed out that page as well, and put it into his pocket along with the other papers.

It was only then that Chris realised getting back into the vent was going to be more difficult than it had been originally. He grabbed a stool from under one of the countertops, and placed it under the vent. Getting himself up into the vent, he discovered, was not the most difficult part of the operation. The more difficult part of what he was doing was going to be getting the vent cover back into place afterwards.

Once he’d wiggled the vent cover back into place, Chris started making his way back towards his room. Getting back took awhile longer because he only had a vague idea of the direction he’d come from. Part of him was surprised he made it back at all. After what felt like forever, Chris was finally back in his room. He’d carefully put the vent cover back, twisting each of the screws back into place afterwards.

Chris retrieved the notebook from its hiding place and sat down to write about the vents, the scientists, the gerbils, everything. He then sat down on his bed and reread the papers he’d printed out from the database, trying his best to absorb the information they contained. Feeling frustrated, he went back and read over some of the older stuff he’d written. When he got up to the previous day, all the details flooded back to him. He remembered how he’d lusted after Wesker, and a certain amount of guilt lodged in his chest. But then, he remembered how he’d broken through Wesker’s usually cold, stoic demeanor. He remembered Wesker’s deathgrip on the countertop and smiled to himself. He’d done that. And he’d made Wesker moan. Chris was certain Wesker hadn’t intended him to hear it. But he had, and now it was etched into his memory.

Thinking about the whole situation resurrected a portion of that lust inside him, and by the time Chris had realised that reliving the scenario might not have been the best idea; his body had already reacted. He sighed, flopped down on the bed, and stared up at the ceiling. He then unzipped his jeans and pulled them down far enough to free himself. As Chris wrapped his hand around his member and began stroking himself, he tried to think of anything but Wesker, but his thoughts kept trailing back to and settling on the blond man.

He gave up trying to fight his thoughts, and began to imagine that it was Wesker’s hand on him and not his own. His hand moved gradually faster before his rhythm faltered as he brought himself closer and closer to completion; still imagining Wesker’s hand on him.

“Wesker…” he whispered as he finished a few seconds later. Still breathing heavily as his mind cleared, Chris decided that he’d be better off going out again the same day to try to find some of the substance used to dilute the virus, instead of waiting until the next day. Chris changed his clothes, and then picked up the piece of paper with the paragraph about and picture of the substance he was looking for. The substance was an unpleasant shade of green.

Not looking forward to injecting myself with a shit-ton of this stuff… Chris thought to himself. But, I guess it’s the only way… He folded the pieces of paper and put it in one of his pockets. Grumbling slightly to himself, he dragged the chair back across the room and positioned it under the air vent. After carefully removing the screws and the vent cover, Chris hoisted himself up into the air duct. He figured the lab with the gerbils was as good a place as any to begin his search. He just hoped he’d be able to find the same room again. It was then that he realised that it didn’t necessarily have to be the same exact room. The stuff he was looking for could be anywhere. He decided to investigate the first empty room he happened upon. The first empty room he came to was some type of library. He was slightly perplexed by the fact that there was a library smack-dab in the middle of a building full of laboratories. He wanted to take a look, but he was short on time, and doubted that there would be vials of caustic green liquid lying around.

The next room Chris happened upon was a laboratory that had shelves and shelves of cages. He wondered if it was the gerbil room from earlier. After carefully checking to be sure there was no one in the lab, he climbed down through the vent and dropped to the floor. Wasting no time, Chris hurried over to one of the cabinets and started rifling through its contents. He soon found a small rack holding several glass vials. The contents of one of them were a rather unpleasant shade of green. Chris’ heart sped up as he whipped the piece of paper out of his pocket. The label on the vial in the picture said, ‘0127B.’ Taking the vial out of the cabinet, Chris checked the label, and noticed that it said, ‘0127A.”

“Dammit,” Chris said aloud, putting the vial back in his place. Moving on to the next cabinet, Chris started looking through its contents, quickly growing impatient. There were no green vials in the second cabinet. Slammed the door to the second cabinet shit, Chris then moved on to the third. The third cabinet yielded a single vial of the correct liquid.

Finally… Chris thought to himself. One down, one million to go… Although, now that he thought about it, he didn’t know how many vials of the serum it would take to combat the virus. It was just after he’d found the vial of serum that Chris heard voices from somewhere down the hallway. Shit. He thought. Chris hurried to grab a stool from under one of the countertops and scrambled back up into the air duct. He had just gotten the vent cover back into place before he heard the door to the lab slide open. A woman with short black hair and a white lab coat strolled into the room, absentmindedly ticking things off on the keyboard in her hands. One of the young scientists from earlier followed her into the room. The two of them wandered along the rows of cages, looking at the animals contained within, while the woman continued making notes on her clipboard.

“What the hell?” Chris heard her say.

“What?” her colleague replied.

“Look at that,” she said, pointing at something. The young man’s gaze followed her finger, as did Chris’.
SHIT! he thought to himself. He’d left the cabinet open. The woman made her way quickly across the lab and began hastily looking through the cabinet’s contents.

“Call Wesker,” she said urgently. “It’s the 0127B serum that’s missing. Call Wesker, dammit!” The two of them then rushed out of the laboratory. Chris was torn about what he should do. He didn’t know whether he should book it back to his room and hope he got there before Wesker, or if he should continue his search for more vials of serum. After a few more seconds, he made his decision, and started off in that direction.

- To be continued.