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Chapter 1 Chapter Text The dense fog that loomed over the Louisiana bayou cast an eerie veil over the dilapidated house, causing Chris Redfield to adjust his senses as he maneuvered through the oppressive wilderness. B.S.A.A. believed Lucas Baker had retreated here, continuing his grotesque experiments under the guise of twisted games, following his escape from the Dulvey incident. As one of the finest agents at capturing and eliminating biohazard threats, Chris took on the challenge with a determination that bordered on obsession. Inside the rotting shack, mechanical whirs and discordant beeps occasionally punctuated the quiet, alerting Chris to the fact that his target was near. But as he moved cautiously through the dimly lit corridor, a hidden trap was sprung—wires snapped taut, electricity crackled—and in a flash of disorienting light, darkness overwhelmed him. Chris awoke to find himself restrained, his arms and legs bound securely to a firm, cold chair. His struggling yielded nothing but the abrasive burn of ropes digging into his skin. Lucas Baker stepped into view with a triumphant grin stretched across his gaunt face. “Well, well,” Lucas drawled, infusing each word with mocking pleasure, “look who came to play. How’s our little Sleeping Beauty feelin’?” “Lucas,” Chris spat, his voice firm despite the throbbing in his head. “Let me go, and maybe I won’t break every bone in your sick little body.” “Oh, I’m afraid you’ve got it all wrong, Chrissy,” Lucas replied with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He circled Chris like a predator, eyeing its prey. “See, I don’t plan on lettin’ you go. No, no. You're gonna be my new family. My little brother.” The words were a twisted echo from a nightmare. Lucas reached into his pocket, producing a rusty switchblade. With deliberate movements, he began slicing through Chris’s B.S.A.A. uniform, peeling away the fragments like layers of an onion. “Are you excited, Chris?” Lucas asked, feigning innocence as he tossed the shredded fabric aside. “We’re gonna have so much fun.” A vicious glare cut from Chris’s eyes. “I’m going to finish what we started, Lucas. You’ll never break me.” “Tsk, tsk,” Lucas wagged a finger before leaning in closer, so near that Chris could see the madness simmering in his eyes. “Such filthy language shouldn’t come outta the mouth of a little boy like you.” With a sudden, menacing grin, Lucas held Chris’s nose, forcing him to open his mouth. Chris struggled violently, but the restraints and Lucas’s firm grip were unyielding. Lucas proceeded to shove a bar of soap roughly down Chris’s throat, his laughter echoing like a twisted refrain in the dingy room. For a few tormenting moments, Chris gagged, the acrid taste assaulting his senses. Lucas finally relented, removing the soap and stepping back with a look of serene satisfaction on his face. But Chris's spirit was far from crushed; a fire still blazed in his eyes as he locked his gaze onto Lucas’s. “This isn’t over,” he gasped, his voice raw but still laced with steel. Lucas chuckled, seemingly pleased by the defiance. “Oh, I hope not, Chris. We’ve only just begun.” The sickly hum of an old generator sputtered in the background, mingling with the hollow echoes of creaking floorboards. And as Lucas retreated into the shadows, Chris’s determination solidified; he would endure Lucas’s twisted trials. He would escape. And when he did, he would ensure that Lucas Baker would never threaten another soul again. Author Note: I'm not a professional writer, so please don't critique me too harshly. I just wanted to share a story. I'm not a professional writer, so please don't critique me too harshly. I just wanted to share a story."I'm not a professional writer, so please don't critique me too harshly. I just wanted to share a story."