The Perfect Agent - (Wesker x Reader)

The blonde man approaching you did not slow down at your intimidating stance. Instead, he stalked closer, the silence of the halls whispering insecurities into your ears as your confidence began to falter.

"Why don't you shoot?" the man mused, spreading his arms in a taunting gesture, expression still blank. "I'm unarmed, as you can observe."

"That gives me no reason to shoot, then," you huffed, a twinge of humor seeping from your words.

The man's face remained cold and emotionless, but he hissed a witty response. "You have absurd morals. How... unfortunate for you."

You kept your gaze fixed on him, hoping the eye contact would lock him in place. However, you took his word for lacking a weapon, and raised your left hand to press the button on your earpiece to contact Jetline's intel personnel for help during extraction. They could likely apprehend the... "unarmed" man.

As you were about to press the button and speak, your left wrist was suddenly sprawled on the wall to your left, as was your entire body. The wind was knocked from you as your back collided with the wall with such an overwhelming force, pain crackling up your spine and back muscles. You gasped for air, eyes darting around the dark hallway to search for what happened.

The man had somehow instantly pounced upon you, pinning your left wrist to the wall with his right hand to prevent you from contacting any outside sources. His other arm was bent, his forearm forcing your chest to the wall. Somewhere during the haze, your gun was lost to the endless dark void of the hallway.

As you tried to gather your wits, the man straightened and removed the pressure from your chest to reach and snatch up the earpiece. He crushed it in his hand, allowing the fine bits to crumble to the ground like the sand inside of an hourglass.

Your gaze followed the dust, still attempting to cease asphyxiating. You only looked back at the man's dark sunglasses as he spoke again—the only sight looking back was the reflection of the surprised expression you wore.

"I informed you that the gun was frivolous in this scenario," he sighed, posture relaxing with boredom. The grip on your wrist loosened—the man was getting complacent. Clearly, he had never opposed one who could ever amount to his power. Or at least, not for a long time.

Realizing that this was merely a fleeting moment of occupation for the opponent, you used his distracted bored state to free yourself. With your right hand free from clutching your gun, you quickly uppercutted the man—his head faced away from you with the force and his sunglasses flew off into the dark. Swiftly, he released your wrist and you lithely positioned yourself away from the wall.

The man released a sinister chuckle, the malice and frustration rumbling inside of it bursting out like a beast growling with rage. It wasn't one of teasing nor twisted entertainment. The man was irritated. He clicked his tongue impatiently as he placed a new pair of sunglasses gracefully on his slim nose bridge before turning his face back to look at you.

"Silent yet violent, are we?" he took a step forward, his shoulders shifting backward as he empowers his form, standing tall and menacing. "That will make it much easier and quicker for me. Wise choice."

"I prefer not conversing with my opponent," you snapped, your glare only flicking away from him as you searched the shadows for any weapon to use. Finding none, you matched his steps and took equal ones backwards as you raised your arms warily to fight. Oddly enough, there was a strange light near him. Almost as if it was behind his glasses—

The floor was not where you expected to be looking next. You had been caught off-guard the first time, yet your puzzlement regarding this person had caused you to falter in reaction time. There you were: face-down, right arm twisted backward and threatening to snap, left one stuck under your torso as an insurmountable amount of pressure dug into your back.