Chapter Text
For my existence to have been deemed as a distasteful mistake from the very start.. For the first death that I have caused, for the painful sounds of my sobs to break through. To a type of gaze that I would never forget, resentment to be seen in the eyes of a father meant to protect me, to love me. What have I done wrong ? What have I caused for the only family I have to stare below my desiring self to be cared for ? “Dead! She is dead! Lifelessly cold with her gaze to eternally remain hollow while you stand still to be full of a stolen warmth. For those eyes I only wish to gash out with my bare hands as it is nothing more than a look that does not belong to you when her colors are to be detained in your insignificant stare!” For those words to endlessly haunt every one of my thoughts, the cruelty of words to never leave my mind such as the horribly twisted repetition of a broken radio to echo within. For my fear of deep water, to the sensation of aqua liquid invading my lungs in unbearable suffocation as I am left to struggle out of a grip pressing over my head immersed into the filled tub. For horribly spoken words to hear once more, disturbingly distant as dangerously close as I am of Death's house door. “To die is all that you ever deserve for you are no such as my own flesh and blood as to ever call you my son would be nothing more than an insulting disgrace such as your existence here!” For my body to lose its last ounce of strength, limping away in subsidence. Is this how I die ? At the age of thirteen ? For the representation of bad luck.
For a further cruel turn of events, tortuously spitting water out as I have only wished to leave this world behind, to escape a life I have come to believe did not belong to me, for the repetition to kill me worse than anything I could ever possibly expect. “Death to be a kind gift for you who do not deserve such as, to know that I find your torment to be quite the entertainment myself delights into!” For the bruises and scars to be hidden underneath clothes yet my pain to still have been noticed through my eyes losing their colors to agonizing lifestyle, awaited emptiness to sink within. “Leave me for I have no interest in conversing with you!” To a company I actually crave for, someone to understand me yet to a fear that has deeply engraved inside, consuming me relentlessly in a painful horror I am only ever allowed to drown into. He who remained, standing still with an unhesitating hand to be within reach. Foolish move of me to rest my hand ahead, seeking company I find myself daring for. My first kiss to offer over, to the softness of his lips I am incapable of forgetting yet to the nightmarish representation of my life I have dragged him into for I have let my guard down, caught to be seen when we only ever were fifteen, age to be.
For I have stood in front of to behave as much as a shield, how I have never pleaded more in my life than at this very moment. “Please, father.. I beg of you to spare him for I would rather perish myself here instead!” To collapse for the painfully unbearable feeling of a brutal punch swinging over to my stomach as the target. To feel like I was about to vomit, to reach right there yet still I have crawled my way over for this situation to end, for my grip to tighten in desperation around my father's ankle as if I was ever capable of truly stopping him, only to be kicked in the face. “No.. No! Stop.. Stop it, please! Father!” For the pain that I was in yet still to be ignored, to know that nothing could possibly ever be more agonizing than to lose the only person I have ever cherished. “Josef.. I don't regret anything.” For my name to be said so beautifully in tragedy, for the smile I have grown to be fond of, as if reassurance had made its way to tell me that none of it was ever my fault yet I cry like I have never cried before. Loud. Louder by the second, as if every single part of me was choking in nothing but pure agony. “YVES!” For I have never screamed this loudly before, for the inevitable sound of his neck to snap, a sinister sound made to haunt me as I have lost consciousness right there.
To know that he had been the first I have been looking for upon regaining consciousness, only to be met with the horrifying sight of him lifelessly remaining near me on the ground. “Sinful disgrace your existence is in the eyes of God! To the consequences of your actions, for you are the only one to blame!” To those words I have always tried to ignore as best as possible, only for this exact moment to believe in. For overwhelming rage to consume me, to the rage I have carried over this whole time. “If something as beautiful as love is a sin, then I gladly am one hell of a sinner!” For the first time I have stood up for myself, to know that I no longer had anything to lose when I have already lost everything because of him. “Kill me then! Let your hands be stained in blood once more for Death will always follow around to own over your worthless soul!” How I have run over, for my nightmare to end. To feel how my hands have begun to shake, tremble under the influence of adrenaline rushing through my veins, overwhelming me like never before. With a broken bottle of alcohol I have found nearby to take, how I have not stopped even when I have already known my persecutor to be long gone.
To know that I have laughed, for hysteria to have taken over as the brutality of each stab have brought me nothing more than pure relief like the presence of deliverance here for claim. “To know that you have been right, for I indeed am not your son! To know that I would rather burn than to ever associate myself with you!” Yet to soon feel exhaustion creeping around to seek for me and I have fallen ill of reality's grasp as adrenaline had collapsed into banishment, to leave me unconscious alongside the corpses of romance and hatred. For fate to be far more twisted than I have ever dared to imagine, to find myself trapped in a place I only recognize too well, firmly attached to a bed similar of those in psychiatric wards as if I am nothing but a beast ready to spill further blood. “Subject HUNK is awake, is everything ready?” Fear to have taken over, how terrified I have been as I struggled against the tight restraints suffocating me more than anything really. “Don't.. Don't!” To know that I have begged, pleaded as much as I could yet to be ignored for they have only ever looked down with purpose in mind for me. “The commander is dead.” Don't say it.. Don't finish your sentence. I beg in a painful gaze for they have covered my mouth in tape to prevent me from talking furthermore. “As his son, you are perfect for next in line.” And there I was, only ever able to cry out in horrifying silence.
To know that they were perfectly aware of my emotional state, in a place where feelings did not belong. For a perfect commander to keep in check, in line for the coldness of an empty shell to shape into undeniable obedience. Josef to have died, HUNK to have been born anew as the new commander for Umbrella Corporation to use. To know that there was nothing left to remember, to even feel for they have taken my humanity away through experiments made for controlling enhancement, emotions to have faded. Who am I ? If not a sinner closely followed by Death for it had taken a liking to my numbing soul. To know that I would have normally remained frozen in place, out of shock upon seeing the familiarity of a person to have been so dear to me, a clone of him I have encountered years further after my forced admission to control, a member of my unit I walk past to. I do not recognize, I do not remember. To know that I would have crumbled for the reminder of my father through the finishing move, the commander's signature move I have kept going with, never to feel any ounce of remorse, guilt. Only emptiness left to ever feel. “Target neutralized, mission accomplished.” Only coldness left to ever speak in tone. I do not feel, I cannot feel. What is my purpose ? To be of perfect use for the umbrella corporation, how I have no wish outside of my duties.
For the Raccoon City incident, to retrieve viruses from Dr. William Birkin. To know that I have witnessed the demise of my team yet unmoved as I was to walk away without even something as little as a glance behind. You die for the cause, you do not mourn for purpose served. To know that I would eternally prioritize my duties over meaningless lives to have done what they have been meant to. For the spared virus sample I have found and retrieved to step away with the only other survivor of the team, HEATHEN code name to be rather fitting for I have witnessed him feasting on human flesh days earlier. Something I do not concern myself with, to know that his eating habits are not of my interests yet to Josef to most likely be horrified of what had become of his loved one, clone of him however still. To know how human Josef had been, overwhelmed by emotions he hardly had ever known to properly process, for rage only he understood the most. To know how much of a lack feelings were to HUNK, how significantly cold his stare had become to another meaning of irrelevant stare as his father had told before. To know that if he still were present to breathe, he would mock him furthermore, to say that he had been rightfully proven correct to be, how violence of Death had always meant to act as the very own shadow of a shattered man to brutality.
To think of myself falling ill to virus exposure in air to breathe, recent symptoms to appear after long time to have happened. I look at myself in the mirror, my reflection to seem present into mockery as to think of its attendance as looking down on me. For those eyes I wish to gash out at the reminiscence of maternal colors to be detained into insignificant stare.. Rage to be witnessed through heterochromia gaze, for a glimpse of emotion I have believed to no longer feel. Light brown eye, softened eye to shine as the light of sun reflects over for moments of ability. Weak, you are getting weak as you are falling ill. Dark brown eye to drown in total absence of light, the coldness of an overwhelming darkness to brutally pierce through ruthless glance. Wasting your time as you are, I have no attention to offer over. For the mirror to shatter under violent impact and I watch myself bleed in silence for the piece of glass I tightly hold onto. To know that I will never allow myself to ever be vulnerable once over for the very same shard of mirror I direct towards my brightly hazel eye to repeatedly stab through. I remain still for the warm feeling of blood to spill, for I am to never be the same again as before then, and I reach within for my damaged eyeball to rest away while I laugh like I have never laughed before in a mirroring path of the past.
For my covered eye to heal underneath the mask as I face the intruder. Leon S. Kennedy. To the emptiness of my eye socket, hollow cavity to be, for the need of sneaking around. I do not need backup, spare me the meaningless presence of others for I can do this alone yet for myself to be weaker in suffocation to suffer from, choking in my own blood as I am to be pushed down, after a mere attempt of finishing move, for my infected state had worsened to leave me collapsing and all fades to black. To be left on my own uncertainty of survival I wonder why about, after a while to pass for my consciousness to claim presence once more as I have been left alone to die, not to have been murdered by his hands. I am barely standing to leave the scene with my mask in hand, for I still hold onto the very purpose of my existence. I walk, I keep walking only for an abrupt stop to coeval alongside blood to be spat out as my head had begun to spin once more. I must not cease, I must prevail. To loathe what has become of me, how disgustingly ashamed of myself I am here, right in this very situation as I differently feel colder than ever. To the resentment of myself weak, leisurely perishing for my purpose to remain unfulfilled.
For the remaining dose of Elpis I have managed to catch, to only know so little yet to be aware of it to be a cure for the infection plaguing me around. To know that I have survived once more, for another survival added to the list as I am standing still, better than ever to continuously serve my purpose, yet to be plagued by something else for tears to unstoppably rush down as I am left to crumble for the familiarity of sorrow I have believed to deeply be buried. Only then did I realize how much of a cure Elpis truly was, to realize that I have lost every trace of umbrella experiments. To know that I was human again, vulnerable for myself to be crushed under forcefully repressed feelings alongside memories of horrifying agony for the thought of Death to have taken so much, too much as it had followed me around to act as my shadow, for the nickname of Mr. Death. For the only name to ever leave the barrier of my lips here as he is present, nearer than ever. “Yves..” To know that it is not him, to know that I am only ever holding on to the similarity of someone I have so deeply cherished, how love had always waited to consume me once more. To the cold feeling of a knife piercing through my stomach, how I still did not look away from him yet to know that I had collapsed here as the blade had been pulled out, to see as he was standing there to watch me fall without a word to hear from him, as if he was waiting for something else to happen.
To the ghosts of the past to have never wandered far, to someone who has been kept secret from me. How I have already known of myself being used in entirety of time yet to see that of how the situation had been furthermore disgustedly cruel as if an entirely twisted joke to explode right in my face. “Father..” To know that all I ever wanted right there was to cry yet for tears not to come, as exhausted as I am. I am drifting away, struggling to keep my remaining eye open to see yet was it really worth it here to keep on living ? I do not wish to, for my will to remain had long vanished already. I wish for departure.. I wish for Death to arrive and take me away. To let myself die right there as they step away together without a glance thrown behind, to know that I have been left behind to bleed out. For the distant sound of footsteps to approach yet I no longer pay attention, I cannot bring myself to look again. Closed gaze, for peace to be in reach when I no longer hear anything. There is nothing left to look at, there is nothing left to listen to, only ever serenity. To think that I am being lifted up, into the arms of Death, for my last remaining strength to narrowly feel, when I have lost notion of time. To know of myself being too far gone for my inability to notice that the bleeding had already been provoked into end. I accept it all, to permanently let myself rest in peaceful embrace for I am to leave this world behind.
For confusion to take over, left to wonder of the situation. Am I dead ? For a question here to remain, disoriented as I am upon regaining consciousness in an unfamiliar place. “Finally awake.” To know that not only have I blinked once yet twice actually as to process in the moment, to turn in following the voice around and to see him standing there. Chris Redfield. Only then do I take comprehension of myself being alive still, to abruptly stand from the bed I have been left to rest on, only to wince from unbearable pain. For the bandages to be seen around my stomach, as I look down. “You saved me.. You fucking saved me.” To be here with my injuries that have been taken care of. “Why?! Why did you save me?!” To the rage I have always known of, when I am standing near to violently grip onto the bars of the cell, shaking. “To fucking leave me to rot in a cell like an animal?!” To the quieter words I have said there afterwards, choking over onto suffering. “I wanted to die..” For those tears I am holding back, only to the breaking tone of my voice here to push me into betrayal.
For the eerie sight of his expression to remain calm, for his words to pass right through me as if to pierce over. “You are not allowed to die.” How I have been taken aback upon hearing about myself to be forbidden away from the comfort of death. I am looking, staring simply as I am to rather be left speechless, as he continues furthermore. “You can still be useful.” Something to feel more ominous than ever, for violence to still lurk around the corner and I immediately step back. “What if I refuse ? Will you kill me then ?” To know that I was still holding on to the very thought of Death to collect me yet to the actual opposite, to know that I would remain lost in this place. “I will leave you to rot in this cell, then.” To still be alive, to keep on living while trapped as if I am nothing more than a beast to always be ready for spilling further blood. “Whatever, then. I'm done.” To know that I refuse to spill blood once more, for my hands to be tainted in furthermore blood than they currently do. I am sitting on the bed, facing the wall, yet to still feel his gaze on me. I simply ignore, I do not say another word again. I remain quiet, thinking of ways to die here by myself.
For days to pass, starvation left. I am letting myself starve, the hunger ache I allow to consume me as dry my lips have become, cracked below the sensation of overwhelming thirst. This is how I let myself slowly die, to know that this is all I deserve for the amount of blood covering my hands over the years I have served the umbrella corporation. I let myself fall out of bed, to hit the ground. I look miserable, I am miserable. To know that I still am pushing myself over limits, how I have long rushed past limits for exhaustion had already consumed me. To my remaining bit of strength, lastly pushing myself over the edge yet I have already collapsed at the very first push-up of the day as I have left myself to starve, for the nightmares to have haunted me down I no longer slept, to the thought of myself working out still, on my path of suicide. I have lost consciousness right there, welcoming Death with open arms. “Listen.. he..” For a woman's voice to barely be heard, tone in the distance. “Maybe.. don't.. though..” Like a conversation happening here, for most of the words to be cut out, unheard. “help.. saved.. already..” What was happening ? I should have known, it simply was too good to be true as to see that I have been left alone before, in the cell, with someone coming to bring me food from time to time. For the food to have been left untouched, leading me here to rest in a hospital bed.
To my gaze shifting below, for the sight of my right arm connected through intravenous nourishment. How I have been rescued once more, when my will to live had become non-existent, faded into nothingness. For the Redfield siblings to stand near, watching as I have regained consciousness. Too weak to properly focus, I barely do. I am conscious enough to listen, to weakly speak for the beginning of my forced recovery, only to be immediately interrupted by Chris as his sister had left the room, to let us talk alone. “I thought of leaving you to die there, in that cell, since you were so eager to.” To know that I have resented him more than ever, for how he had not only stopped me from dying once yet twice actually. A man I deeply despise for not allowing me to reach out to Death. “If I do this.. Will you promise me to do something in return ?” To know that my request could not be any more obvious than it already was here, to know that I am only ever waiting for one thing alone. “Only then will I give you what you wish for.” For those words, his words to be enough as I know of him to be a man of word, someone to keep the promise of gifting me the kiss of death. To allow myself to finally breathe, to rest now that I know my only wish awaits to be fulfilled soon. For the last time I would let myself spill further blood, to let my hands be stained once more yet I find them left to tremble for I still crumble underneath the thought of my first love haunting within.
To work alongside Chris Redfield, recovered to stand once more. How long I have spent here, standing near to offer my help into tracking ghosts of my past down when a few months have ever since passed. For a feeling which only leaves me confused in place, to know that my gaze remains as if stuck on him standing slightly further away and she is here to notice, to approach me for a talk in mind. “To think that you are falling for my brother.” For those words to leave me speechless, how I have been taken aback. I look at her, stare at her in pure disbelief before averting my gaze when, deep down of myself, I very well was aware of her being right. “I'm just waiting to die.” For love I have turned my back at, to something I cannot possibly comprehend well. To know that I have loved once, for the first time only to end in a tragedy as I look down, to those hands which have failed to save the first I have ever cherished. To know of those very same hands to be closer than ever into murdering him, to know that I am about to lose a second time and I will never allow myself to be weak again then. “You won't be able to keep up like this for long, you know ? When you love him and he promised.. Do you truly believe that you would be able to lie then ?” For those questions I had no answer, how I couldn't say anything at all, no matter how hard I tried to. I only ever watched her walk away, as she had already gotten the response she wanted.
To know that my hands are wrapped around his neck, to watch as the light of life slowly leaves his eyes, yet to feel that my hands have begun to tremble once more, around the similarity of my first love to have been captured through clone, a copy with the one of my father to have been left to rot near. To know that I am taking the weakness of mine down, when he reaches into making me bleed, for those provoked scratches near my remaining eye I overwhelmingly hate. “I'll never be weak again.” For my words to be filled with nothing but the coldness of consuming rage, to know that I have lifted his head up to slam him back against the concrete floor. To know that it was over, to know that I have killed the symbol of my vulnerability out. I am standing there, to face Chris. To face my fate, to receive what I have been promised. “It's time.. You promised me.” To know that I am not longer standing, to know that I am kneeling down for Death to collect me. “I did.” For the cold feeling of the gun barrel to be pressed against my forehead, how my life would gladly end here yet it does not happen. “What are you waiting for ? Kill me already..” For the tears that I am struggling to keep in, to stop from rolling down as my tone of voice breaks as I speak, to the bitter taste of betrayal to be heard through my words. “If you wish to die this badly, why aren't you looking at me ?” For my gaze to have been closed out, only darkness to ever witness and how my heart sinks right here as I know that if I look at him, I would instantly crumble.
How I try to speak, to say something but nothing comes out of the barrier of my quivering lips. I refuse to look at him, I can't look at him. “Do you still wish to die ?” For a question I cannot answer, for my silence to provide instead as I think of what Claire had said before. How I am incapable of pretending any longer. “Chris.. I told you already.” Avoiding. I'm avoiding here as much as I possibly can and he notices. “Tell me again, tell me that you want to die.” He does not give up, how could he do that ? When he had promised to give me what I wished for. Do I still wish for it ? Is it still something I wish for ? I'm not sure.. I don't know anymore. “ .. I love you.” Yet I know one thing, how my heart breaks as I say those words, to know that I no longer am capable of holding tears back while I finally am looking at him. “What ?” For the gun barrel to be moved away, how he is standing there as we hold eye contact and I can no longer step back.
How I say those words again, to know that it hurts more than ever. “I love you and it's fucking tearing me apart when all I ever wanted was to die..” I am breaking apart right here, at this moment. “I don't know what to do! I can't.. I can't do this again!” How painful it is to feel so deeply, as terrified as I am right here. “I already knew.. Claire told me.” Of course she did, as worried as she was. She knew I would not be able to go through with it, how she only ever tried to help yet I resented her for it. “Damn Claire..” I never wanted him to know, for this secret to be buried with me yet how I still would've crumbled either way, no matter what for how I feel towards him. “Get up.” I don't want to. I am supposed to die.. How am I supposed to live still after everything that I have done ? To know that all I have ever known was violence alongside rage, how I hate feeling this way that I caught myself thinking of killing him. “No, you promised me.” I do not listen, I cannot listen to violence as it lurks around the corner once more. How I feel my head spinning, how badly everything hurts right in this moment. “Josef. Get the fuck up.” For my actual name to be spilled out like this, to know that I have only ever told him once as I have rejected the identity of HUNK. “Don't call me that.” To know that I still hated that name, how I resented it after the agony of something I never got to call family for I didn't have any, not a proper one. “What ? You prefer Hunk ?” To be triggered, how rage had been more present than ever here. He knew, he wanted me to fight back. To see that I was still holding onto something, for a hope I never saw coming or rather I refuse to accept, to even acknowledge as if I had been lying to myself this entire time. I did.
It worked. I am standing there, ready to punch him. To fight back, to hit him back like he did on an emotional level rather than physical. “There you go.” To learn how to let go, to turn the page but I am still raw, still as violent. I cannot heal like this, I cannot heal because he is there to show me that I am worth something and I still think that he is lying. “I don't need your fucking pity.” I hate it. I hate it so bad, it makes me feel like I cannot breathe. I am not worth anything, I am worthless. I don't understand, I can't understand so I only ever respond in the single way I know of, brutality. “I fucking hate this, it makes me sick.” I am furious, consumed by a rage I know too well. I feel sick, I am sick of the way I am feeling. Love is a weakness, I have already said that I will never be vulnerable again. “If you won't kill me, I will kill you then.” To think that there will be no one left to stop me then, to think that I would finally be free to commit without him here to stop me. “Fucking Redfield.” He dodges, he looks at me like I am about to break right there. Perhaps I am, I have no idea. I feel so much, too much and I resent him for it all. How easy it is for him to pin me down to the ground, to keep me restrained like this.
I look at him, I stare at him in nothing but pure disdain as I struggle to free myself from his grip yet I am here, crying once more in anger.. in something I cannot possibly comprehend well, for how strange love is to me. “I'll kill you! I'll fucking kill you!” I don't mean that, I don't mean any of those words I have just said. For rage is only ever speaking here, to the violence I have always been consumed by. “It's over, you're just wasting your energy.” He is looking down on me, I am sure. I am weak, I am fucking weak. It only infuriates me furthermore, overwhelming rage left to remain still. “Answer me, now.” I refuse, there is nothing else to say. For a question I cannot bring myself to answer, I remain silent. “See ? You can't even say it anymore.” He has a point, something I cannot possibly deny. I am still holding on, I am holding on again, unconsciously. Why ? Why am I holding on ? How ridiculous I truly am. “I love you too.” But those words I didn't quite catch on, I didn't hear well. “What ?” I am taken aback, watching him in disbelief. “You heard me.” I didn't, not as well as he thinks.
For how unprepared I have been, caught by surprise. “You can throw your life away, if you want to prove them right for how pathetic you are, or you can suck it up and prove yourself that you are more than what they ever saw in you, a machine.” I am left speechless, blinking as I hear him talk. Am I truly worth something ? Is it really alright for me to keep on living after everything I have caused ? To think that I have just tried to kill him, how I have threatened to take his life and he is keeping me alive instead, to know that there is something in his eyes that makes me believe that I am worth loving but the pain, rage, violence are not things that can easily be erased, not with love. I need to heal, to work on myself so I can be better, something that is still hard for me to believe in yet I dare to reach out, to try my best. “ .. Don't expect me to be all fine, all of a sudden. I'll still fuck up.” I give in. I am giving in. “I know.” I am calming down, I am trying to remain calm as I quietly sigh, out of relief, perhaps.
I feel like I can breathe here, for the first time in my life. I reflect on myself, to think of everything that has happened. For my past, how I was still alive, for a chance I never thought myself worthy of. I wonder about the future, I think of the future for once. To think about all the things I never even allowed myself to, for something so strange to be within reach and I am not averting my gaze from his. How odd it feels, when there is so much I wish to say yet nothing comes out, because it was not a moment made for talk, not anymore now that I have surrendered in a way I never believed myself to be capable of. Tears have already stopped there and he is reaching closer, leaning near for the taste of something I never thought about, for something that only ever happened once, so long ago that I have never believed it would happen again for someone as damaged as I am.
His lips to be pressed against mine, how his eyes have closed yet mine remain open for longer, as surprised as I am that I have no idea how to react. I don't understand, perhaps I am thinking too much yet how clueless I am to know anything like this, how clumsily I try when I love him enough to return the kiss, how bad of a kisser I am. I am shy, I am ashamed, enough to immediately pull away from him. For the way I react, how inexperienced I am, to feel how my heart races like never before and I am scared of it all. “Chris..” But it is a fear I am facing as best as possible, how I face something so beautiful it terrifies me. I am trying. I want to try, to keep going as best as I can for the better. To heal with him by my side, to the psychological help that I need. “You're free to be nobody's soldier.” And his words I would always think about, how I have never felt this free before. To not only be better for him, yet mostly for myself.