Chapter 35: Slave
“If you know the enemy and know yourself,
you need not fear the result of a hundred battles" —Sun Tzu.
He is a slave to the bloodlust. He wants to claw at me, but he can’t. He’s enjoying being drained too much.
I can see the anger blaring through all four of his irises. At the same time, I can also feel his raw hungry need. I can feel every fluctuation of emotion as I drink from him. He likes it. He hates it. He likes it. He hates it.
Like it. Hate it. Like. Hate. Like. Hate. And then . . . .
The shifting stops altogether, and all that’s left is this unbearable need.
Surprisingly, the look quite matches his face. Unlike the brooding Wesker, I think I quite like this submissive Wesker better. He looks so helpless, so out of power, that I believe I can probably do a
