Chapter Text
Sailing the vast seas was dangerous. Everyone knew it but it was also the closest thing to freedom mankind managed to grasp onto. People like Chris gravitated towards the sweet promise of adventure despite the many ferocious hazards lurking beneath the deceptively clear mirror of the ocean surface.
When he first found work under a Captain willing to take on an apprentice coming from is limited background, Chris had been young and eager. He’d also been desperate. Sickness claimed his parents and he had a young sister to look after. They’d been a modest household and his parents’ death left him with no inheritance. All he had were the four walls they’d called home and no prospects for a future. Chris’ father was a guard in the royal army and by virtue of the King’s generosity, they paid the Redfield orphans a stipend to help. It was all for show.
The money was meagre and it dried fast. Chris knew if he had any hope of raising Claire by himself he needed to find well paying work and fast. The problem was, good money usually came with the jobs most people didn’t want to do. Unless he had the backing of a notable voice behind him, which he didn’t, danger was his next best option. And few things were more certain to bring a quick death than sailing. Ergo, the generous salary. On top of that, Chris was attracted to the trade for another reason.
Sailors benefited from the umbrella of a guild so even if he died at sea, his family would be a little protected. Leaving Claire to grow and fend by herself, despite her tender age, was the most difficult thing he’d had to do but it was also the only thing he could do. Their society wasn’t kind to street urchins and without money, that was almost certainly going to become their future.
As it happened, turning to sailing had been the right move for Chris. He’d taken to it like a fish to water. He put in the work and took the jobs other turned away until he started making a name for himself. Of course, he’d had obstacles too. His first Captain ended up nearly being his last. The man was corrupt to the marrow of his bones and treated his men like rat shit but he’d been related to some noble twit who had the King’s favour so the cretin was untouchable.
Unfortunately, back then Chris’ youth was more fire than sense. He’d spoken out when he should have kept his head down and remembered Claire. Predictably, his services were no longer required on further expeditions and the Redfield siblings were rapidly finding themselves pushed closer and closer to the inevitable loss of the little they still had.
His saviour came in the form of another sailor who’d also served under the command of the twit captain. Barry was a seasoned mariner and he made some good friends along the way. The man was impressed by Chris’ willingness to stand up for what was right, despite chastising him for his recklessness. He managed to secure Chris a role under a different Captain and the Burtons remained close friends ever since. Barry’s wife even welcomed Claire into her home when Chris was gone on long journeys and in all honesty, he had no idea what he would have done without the older man’s kindness. Chris was not as religious as he should be despite his late mother’s attempts to change that, but to him Barry was evidence of God’s grace.
Many years passed since and Chris was a Captain in his own right now. He had a ship and men serving under him. His pride, the Hound Wolf, was known by reputation and sought after by nobles with deep pockets. Some mariners explored the seas for riches or fame. Some for knowledge and the desire to chart the corners still shrouded in mystery. Chris’ innate moral compass pointed him in a different direction.
Once he made a name for himself and proved his worth, the King’s personal Navy offered him a position. The seas were magnificent but for every breathtaking splendour, a monster with too many teeth and claws swam beneath the beauty and preyed on the weak. The Royal Navy were the shield against those monsters and the Hound Wolf flew the King’s flag proudly. Serving as a protector suited a man like Chris far better than treasure hunting or cartography.
Few mariners could boast the years on the open seas like Chris Redfield. The waters were rarely kind and the lessons taught were learned diligently. Captain Redfield was a name known to many. His crew was reputed for clearing the worst of the dangers and when the King needed one of those creatures with too many teeth dealt with, he sent the Hound Wolf.
Perhaps that was why Chris had been so surprised when his patron summoned him to task his crew with escort duty. That was not the usual work he was hired to do but the King said this was a very important person and he trusted nobody other than Redfield to escort the lady. It wasn’t like Chris could refuse a direct task by the King himself and the payment promised was mouthwatering.
Chris was doing well for himself but that didn’t mean he was swimming in wealth and Claire was growing up fast. She was reaching that age when she had to make some choices for her future. Her stubborn insistences of joining her big brother on the open waters were beginning to worry him. Not because she couldn’t handle herself, because Chris made personally sure she’d stay safe when he wasn’t there to protect her, but because women had their role in society which was not on a monster hunting ship.
Of course whenever he attempted to say anything to the point, Claire was quick to point out Jill and Tundra were mariners serving beneath him and Chris had very little to say to that. It was true, he was one of the very very few who allowed the women jobs on his ship if they could carry their weight. It was an incredible risk but one he took for them because those two were special cases. Jill was a childhood friend and she was practically raised on the seas by her father. Tundra was a newer addition but the fearsome woman saved his own ass a few times. She’d been less forthcoming with her past but Chris knew anyone who carried themselves the way she did, would never become someone’s docile wife.
If he was being honest, Claire was very like the two but it was different when it was his baby sister. He’d seen what was out there, past the horizon and dangerously close to the Edge of the World. He’d killed it and bled to it. He didn’t want Claire to be like him but Chris also knew his sister well enough. No matter how much he begged her to reconsider, she was a Redfield. Stubborn ran in their veins.
So he thought bringing her along on this safe journey would be the perfect opportunity to quench her curiosity. Maybe once Claire saw the life of a sailor, which was considerably less romantic and glamorous than the stories youths believe, she’d be more willing to listen.
The lady they were hired to escort was none other than the King’s oldest daughter and an insufferable creature. Chris dealt with a lot of ugliness in his line of work, but Excella’s black heart gave them a run for their money. She was beauty incarnate but she so clearly considered herself above the likes of him and his sailors. The disdain with which she looked at them was cutting and she appeared to hold an especially sour spot for Jill for reasons Chris couldn’t understand nor did he waste time trying to. As soon as he reached the distant continent, she’d be gone out of their lives.
That was the plan but another thing sailors learn from their first virgin voyage was that plans were often changed. The seas made their own plans and humans rarely got a say in the outcome. Chris was a good and conscientious Captain but even he couldn’t control the weather.
They’d obviously noted the patterns and movements of the clouds but sometimes the mood of a tempest could shift on a dime. The sudden darkening of the canopy was so spontaneous, Chris was almost tempted to call it unnatural. One second the sun was bright and the waters were calm. The next thunder rolled in the distance and charged closer to them like the mad gallop of wild stallions.
The Hound Wolf was manned by the best but there was only so much man could do in the face of awesome nature. Chris heard the terrifying crack of wood splitting and every nerve in his body turned to frost. The hull was braking. Chris realized too late the sudden aggressive change in direction shepherded their ship into a collection of rocks. They must have crushed against one of the peaks below the surface and the rock was shredding the wood, gutting the Hound Wolf like a beast disembowelling a fat sheep. A woman screeched and he knew it had to be Excella. Jill and Tundra were too hardened to lose themselves like that and Claire was frozen near him, looking at him with burning hope because surely her big brother would protect her like he always did.
But not this time. This time, Chris could do nothing as the storm and rocks chewed up his beloved Hound Wolf. He knew the end was inevitable and Chris could see the truth dawn on most of his sailors as well. The ones unused to life at see still had some irrational hope but maybe Claire saw the dullness in his eyes because she ran to him and just buried her body in his chest. Excella was still screaming, barking orders at them to do something because she still thought her silly nobility meant anything in this situation.
Frankly, he didn’t want to think of her as he held Claire close to him and waited for the waters to drag them to their graves. He felt another pair of hands on his shoulders and turned to find Jill there, grip firm but trembling slightly. She gave him a shaky smile and he returned it. A final gesture of appreciation for everything they’d done together….
***
Chris had every reason to trust he’d never open his eyes again. When he did, he even considered the clear sky above him as proof he was in the afterlife. He felt a momentary sense of serenity. Until he attempted to move and his brows creased in confusion. His arms refused to do as his mind commanded and he turned his head to see something which had no place in Paradise.
His wrists were bound by metal shackles and chains secured into the rock he was apparently spread eagled on. Chris could move just enough to lift his head and look down at his naked body, splayed and spread beneath the peaceful expanse. Watter lapped gently at the rock and the droplets which splashed his skin were a pleasantly warm temperature.
Chris’ thoughts were scrambling to figure out what to make out of all this. The certainty of death and the deafening breakage of wood were still fresh in his chest. Waking up as a prisoner brought fear and uncertainty wile the juxtaposition of the settled seas seemed to mock his anxiety. Chris looked around him to the best of his abilities but he saw none of his people. He didn’t see Claire. He didn’t see the wreckage of the Hound Wolf. Just more water and jagged rocks poking through the surface like the fangs of some immense horror.
When he tried to call their names, Chris discovered a new terror. He must have been too perturbed by everything else to notice right away, but his tongue was being pressed down by something hard forced between his jaws. He tried pushing it out but it wouldn’t budge. It didn’t taste like anything and he made noise despite the obstruction, moaning his muted screams.
‘Ah, I see you’re awake.’ Chris immediately fell silent and stilled. He rolled his eyes to find the source of the voice but couldn’t see anything different until the creature moved so the sailor could see him and Chris’ fear turned to unadulterated horror. The seas they’d charted were devoid of mer and he’d specifically picked them to ensure Excella’s safe journey as much as possible. But the storm must have pushed them off course.
‘You must be worried about your crew. I gathered from your attire you are the captain?’ The creature asked and waited so Chris nodded. His heart was hammering a tattoo against his ribcage but he scrambled to grasp onto his seasoned calm, honed by numerous victories against monsters just as terrifying as the one slithering across the rock on appendages which shouldn’t grow out the deceptively human waist.
Mer came in all forms and sizes. They came in all dispositions as well, but more often than not they held a deep rooted disdain for humans and it was always safer to assume ocean dwellers would drown them with a grin on their faces before reaching a helping hand. Chris had met kind mer in his voyages and he was one of the few sailors who chose to believe some sort of peaceful cohabitation could eventually be achieved between their kinds but considering the way he woke up, he wasn’t naïve enough to ignore the terrifying facts. This one was a monster. This one may wear a human mask, but the slippery tentacles sliding over one another like large serpents as the creature moved closer reflected his soul better.
‘Plenty are alive. Sadly the majority had to be put down due to their injuries. Don’t worry, their meat wasn’t wasted.’ Chris’ blood curdled. Of course he knew some mer ate humans and they were the sort Hound Wolf was usually sent out to deal with. ‘All your women are alive.’
The first thing Chris felt at the unsolicited but coveted information was an overwhelming sense of relief. Claire, Jill and Tundra were alive. And Excella. His sister was alive. But then the implications slowly dawned on him and the relief shifted to marrow chilling horror. There was only one reason the monster would specify the fact that women were alive. The other thing known to all sailors, albeit this dark truth stayed with the adults and didn’t find its way into cautionary nursery rhymes. Parents sang of how naughty children who swam too far to sea risked being gobbled up by fish people but the mariners knew mer could do worse than chew the tender flesh off bones until they were left bleached and scraped by the sharp needlepoints of inhuman incisors.
Mer were different in many respects to humans. Some ate human flesh, some drowned human children seemingly out of spite, some sunk ships, some were no more harmful than magpies and collected useless trinkets like they were precious treasures. But one thing which unified all denizens of the sea as dangerous to humans, was their inability to procreate among themselves.
It was an odd affliction and one which would surely spell the doom of a species if it weren’t for the peculiarity of human women being capable to bear mer calves. It was a strange blessing for the mer who had a way to progress their species and a curse for the humans. This terrible dynamic between their species was why most sailors would rather hang up their hat then allow a woman on their ship. The sailor folklore claimed it was terrible luck but every seafarer knew the real reason. Therefore, when the creature grinned, showing off the sharp glint of his teeth, and mentioned the women, Chris understood what that actually meant and he wanted to scream. He would have but the obstruction in his mouth turned his distress to a muffled whine.
‘I know this is unpleasant.’ The creature slithered closer to Chris and touched the object between his lips. He couldn’t see it but he felt around it with his tongue as much as he could. It didn’t taste like anything other than the briny sea which clung to the mysterious thing. ‘It’s for your good. This way we can make sure you won’t starve or dehydrate. Of course, normally we don’t waste time keeping men alive but you are a fortunate lot. You managed to find your way to me.’ The creature grinned again and this close Chris could see the gleam in his blood red eyes. He wasn’t cowed easily but he would have shied away now if he could. The way this creature looked at him, made it perfectly clear Chris was anything but fortunate.
‘But first I should introduce myself. You may call me Wesker, though I doubt you’ll be doing much talking. I assume you must be Christopher Redfield?’ Chris blanked at the casual drop of his name from this creature’s mouth and Wesker chuckled at the obviously stunned expression. ‘I read your ship logs. If you are the Captain of the Hound Wolf, then that would make you Christopher, no? Or do you prefer Chris?’ Chris wanted to swallow the lump in his throat but of course he couldn’t. After a moment he hesitantly nodded since the mer waited for his input like before.
‘Very well, I’ll call you Chris then.’ For just an instant Chris could believe this creature had the capability for kindness. But as soon as that intrusive thought settled, it was immediately shooed away by a splash of sea water from one of the slapping waves against the rock imprisoning him. It was madness how easily one could forget the darkness lurking inside the mer’s hearts, despite the many time Chris was left no choice but rip them out. Yes, some were different but they were few and he could tell straight away Wesker was not one of them. This one was a monster and if he even had a heart, Chris was willing to bet it’d be as pitch black as the scales on his tentacles. Chris narrowed his eyes and showed his ire in the only way he was allowed. Wesker clearly noticed but he appeared amused.
‘We will see a lot of one another Chris. You see, I am unlike any other mer you came across. I have a vision. And you, will help me realize it.’ Every word only perturbed Chris further. The way Wesker spoke… it held the note of lunacy to it. Even before he said anything about this vision of his, Chris recognised it came from the mouth of madness. Every mariner battled Sea Madness and the longer one voyaged, the more one became acquainted with that specific taint to a sane man’s eye before common sense began melting like lard in a hot fire. Wesker’s vermilion stare was all madness and Chris was afraid. He’d braved creatures bigger than his ship and barely flinched but that look in the blond mer’s slitted eyes made him taste the acridity of fear.
‘Mer are superior to men in almost all ways. That is fact. We are stronger. We are faster. We are more endurant. We hold power over the seas which are vast and deep. Your kind is barely beginning to waddle in a puddle, while we swim to depths so low it’d crush your fragile bones. Yet, we face extinction. It is a gross oversight in the natural order and one I’ve spent most of my life trying to correct. That is my vision Chris. I will make sure my kind eludes extinction and you will help me in that pursuit. You and your crew. I have high hopes for you.’ Wesker’s eyes moved over Chris’ body and despite everything, this was the first time he truly felt naked. Vulnerable. ‘Don’t disappoint me.’ Wesker stroked the side of Chris’ cheek and his touch was too cold. Chris wanted to turn away but he felt like he couldn’t break the eye contact. It held as fast as the chains cuffing his wrists and ankles.
‘You humans possess something we simply don’t, and that’s the ability to reproduce. It’s such a vital piece to any animal’s genome yet mer are left to find surrogates. It has always been like this. As far as our records tell, we’ve always been forced to rely on your women to breed. Hardly a problem for many centuries but lately, the mer population is struggling. Your kind are far less careless than once upon a time.’ Wesker shook his head in mocking lamentation. Chris thought of all the protocols being put in place about women mariners... Sure, sailors always had their folklore, but the law was stepping in to block women from stepping foot on ships unless necessary. Some saw it as wrong but they didn’t know what the alternatives were…. Chris was beloved by Jill and Tundra for being different but he was living the reality of why he’d been a fool. And he’d even allowed Claire on his ship….
‘On that note, I must take a moment and offer gratitude for the four women you so generously allowed on your ship. Truly a boon. Sadly, one of them suffered some serious injuries but even she should hold long enough for one delivery. The other three are healthy and I don’t see why they won’t birth many healthy calves. Sadly, birth is another one of those instances where the human lacking endurance shows but I’ve checked on the condition of all three myself and they are strong. Healthy and young. They will endure a few births before we need worry about complications. A true shame your charge, Excella I believe from your log notes, will outlive her usefulness after her first delivery.’
It was despicable, but Chris felt the flutter of relief again when Excella’s name was mentioned and not Claire’s. But then he considered what Wesker was really saying and that relief soured. Claire, Jill and Tundra would suffer the disturbing fate of many abducted women before them. On some truly unfortunate occasions, the Hound Wolf sailed by previous breeding grounds where the used bodies of captured women were abandoned to be carrion food. Chris whined again, realizing Claire would end up like one of the used up corpses. Most times the remains were chewed up, but not always completely. Enough meat was left on the corpses for Chris and his crew to perfectly understand the horrors visited on those women before they mercifully died.
‘But while this is a celebratory occasion, we can’t rely on chance to secure our future. That is where my vision comes in Chris. I plan on balancing the scales. Sadly, my attempt to endow mer with the ability to carry offspring was always met in failure. Many subjects lost their lives but I’m satisfied in saying there simply is no way to induce breeding among mer. Humans will still be a key component. However, I plan to address the scarcity dilemma.’ Wesker’s frigid hand dragged down Chris’ chest and settled on his belly. He wanted it gone but was powerless to push the unwelcomed touch away.
‘There’s never a shortage of humans traversing the seas, in your silly little boats. We can harvest as many of you as we desire. However, we are stuck by your men’s inability to carry offspring. I will turn our biggest weakness into our greatest strength. You started keeping your women away from the sea which turned them to such valuable assets but what if I found a way to utilise men as effectively as women?’ Chris paled. The madness was so visceral, not only in Wesker’s words but his excited eyes, that Chris shivered. What the mer was saying was a crime against nature itself... It was one of the most fundamental truths of any species on God’s green earth so he knew Wesker was simply insane. What he was saying could never happen but the way he spoke made Chris feel like he would try anyway. What was wrong with this monster? Did he fancy himself a god?
‘But first, some preparations need to be made. The women are naturally endowed for pregnancy so as you can deduce, they are already undergoing their insemination.’ Chris gagged and feared he’d spill the meagre contents of his stomach. Claire, Jill and Tundra… Excella too. She was a distasteful person but even she didn’t deserve this and according to Wesker she was injured as well. Chris cast his mind back to the terrible sight of the dead women left to bake under the sun and knew the noble would get no leniency from these mer. Neither would his sister… He realized his eyes were stinging and he blinked away fresh tears. Wesker was watching him carefully and tilted his head at the show of emotion but said nothing on the matter.
‘You and your men however require a few extra steps.’ Wesker raised a hand and Chris’ eyes focused on it. It took a heartbeat but he realized the creature was holding something in his fist, holding it out for Chris to see the contents better. It was a glass vial with something pitch black inside. Chris didn’t know what it was but it looked as sleek as oil. He continued staring and flinched when the liquid began moving, clearly alive inside its glass prison. It was almost instinctual, but the Captain knew to fear this dark ichor. Wesker grinned wider, relishing the human’s aversion and holding the sentient substance closer to Chris’ face.
‘This is the result of my life’s work. I call it Uroboros. You might be interested to know I decided on the name after reading one of your human texts sunk to the bottom of the ocean with one of your ships. It intrigued me and I only thought it fitting to settle on a word of land folk origin since it will bridge the divide between our species permanently. Naturally, I will visit and prepare all your men myself but I also saw it fit to start with you Chris, as their Captain.’ Chris swallowed the tightness in his throat and the ball of air settled unpleasantly in the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t begin to predict what the mad mer planned to do with his Uroboros but he feared whatever it was.
‘But there is one more small step to take care of before introducing Uroboros to your system.’ Wesker put the vial away into some unseen pocket behind his monstrous body and Chris was greatly relived not to see the squirming substance anymore. When Wesker brough his hand up again, something else was clasped between his fingers and Chris creased his brows in worried confusion. It was a funnel with a long neck. The mer slithered close to him again and Chris tried not to flinch when the tentacles curled over his legs to climb his waist. The creature was large, bigger than a grown man and he was heavy. Chris was not a small guy by any means but Wesker was larger and even with his impressive musculature, the Captain winced at the press of the blonde’s weight.
‘This will be unpleasant but it’s necessary.’ Wesker spoke as if to himself and lifted the end of the tube to fit it inside the object keeping Chris’ mouth parted. He began sliding the length down and Chris felt it along his tongue and his eyes widened when it reached his throat. It kept going, guided by Wesker’s hand to slide lower down his trachea until Chris choked and tried to move away. The mer’s free hand was quick to grab his hair and hold him still while Wesker waited for Chris to figured out how to breathe around the obstruction. When he was able to draw a few consecutive breaths, Wesker resumed pushing the hollow tube deeper. Chris was sure he would throw up the more his uvula was agitated but somehow he managed to keep his gord until blessedly, the funnelled end of the tube slotted inside his mouth.
‘There, not so bad. You did well Chris. So far, you are not disappointing me.’ Chris wanted to rage at the mer, burning to tell him exactly where he could stick his praise, but if he could just about make small noises before, now he was muted completely. Chris could barely suck in enough oxygen to keep from going lightheaded and that was a struggle.
‘As I already said, this is for your own good and it will be how we’ll keep you lot alive.’ Wesker retrieved something else for Chris to see and he was beginning to think the mer had the various items readied in advance. He shivered, wondering how long had the creepy mer watched over his slumbering figure before he stirred and realized that was the least of his worries.
‘This is what you’ll be eating for the foreseeable future. All of you. It’s nutritious enough to meet all your needs and rich enough to felicitate healthy egg development.’ Wesker held a pitcher shaped object, not made of clay but something closer to coral. When it was closer, Chris smelled something sweet. Cloyingly sweet, like burned sugar. The mer brought the lip of the pitcher to the funnel and tipped. Chris felt whatever was inside slide down the hollow tube, down his neck and into his belly. He could just about taste it through the thin casing. It was honey sweet with an aftertaste of bitterness. It settled inside his stomach like thick molasses and he felt ill but he couldn’t stop the forced feeding until the pitcher was emptied of its final drop and his belly felt too full.
‘Uroboros will bring some changes to your body and you’ll need the strength to survive the metamorphosis. Sadly, it’s the reason your injured crew had to be put down. They would never survive the process but I’m glad a healthy specimen like you survived.’ Wesker’s grin was different than before as he raked his eyes over the Captain. Toothier somehow and leering in a way Chris saw sailors leer at prostitutes who found their coin at the docks. The lunatic mer already told him what he planned to do to his body but it still perturbed him to see more and more of the evidence. Some part of Chris was still clinging to the rationality that all this was some absurdist nightmare.
‘Here we go…’ Wesker brought out the black vial again and this time Chris stared in abject horror as that too was tipped into the funnel. His throat closed but that did nothing around the tube prying the muscles apart for the slip of Uroboros all the way to his belly. Chris felt it settle among the honeyed nourishment and start moving about. It was disgusting and he did heave but if something travelled back up the funnel, it only slipped back down inside him. Uroboros continued churning nauseatingly through his full abdomen, like a cluster of worms digging through soft earth.
‘Now I’ll leave Uroboros to do its magic while I go take care of the others. I shall return in the morning. I encourage you to try and get some rest Chris. Once Uroboros is done transforming you, the real work begins.’ Wesker leered again and Chris barely saw it through the wet sheen of his tears. By the time he blinked the moisture away, he was alone on his rock with only the lapping waves to keep him company and the twist of Uroboros in his guts.