You’d been trapped here for God knows how long. Wesker and his sick obsession with you had gone on for too long. You’d spent months planning your escape, only for it to be thwarted in seconds. You’d messed up a crucial timing detail, and were met face to face with Wesker just as you’d made it outside of the prison you lived in. He carried you like an injured animal, ignoring your protest.

“Tsk, tsk, little mouse. Aren’t you a fool to think you’d get away that easily.”