//------------------------------// // Albert Wesker and the Long Walk // Story: My Little Wesker // by Iamdanny0 //------------------------------// Albert Wesker and the Long Walk A/N: More like ‘Iamdanny0 and the Why Did I Insist on This Format for All My Chapter Titles’ am I right? It’s good to be back, this fic and where I planned on taking it has been on my mind for the last year so I’m glad to be finally doing it. As always I love you and your feedback. And your adorable little faces. Beta’d by Setokaiva. Three things occurred to Wesker as he stomped heatedly across Ponyville in an attempt to free himself from this unending, sugary-sweet hell. Firstly, he had irredeemably and irrevocably severed ties with his so-called ‘friends’ in this world. Words had been said that shed far too much light on his true character and past misdeeds. Hopefully his threat of violence had deterred them from chasing after him with the diplomacy cake and friendship biscuits. Huh. Never realised how much I wished friendship biscuits were a thing until right now. Secondly, Ponyville was actually far bigger than he thought it was. This not only made it difficult to maintain his decidedly foul mood and fierce scowl for the entire duration of his journey when smooth indifference was his default state, but also led quite neatly into his third realization… “Good afternoon, neighbour! If you keep glowering like that the wind might change and your face will stay that way!” Everyone in this town was exceptionally chatty. Wesker turned the full force of his glare onto the obstacle in his path. “Get out of the way.” The green earth pony mare with a blond mane made a noise that could only be described as ‘eep’, and obliged. “Thank you.” He continued walking and got around ten feet before he was interrupted once more. “Howdy friend, fine weather we’re having.” “I don’t care about your insipid nonsense! Stop talking to me.” Wesker’s snarling retort served its purpose and got the beige earth pony out of his way. Ah, behold the truly terrifying predator, yapping at horses. How the mighty have fallen, Albert. Ah, Critical was here now… fantastic. He continued walking, desperately trying to ignore all the ponies passing through the market square. Was this a village or a city? Maybe he was just walking slowly. “Did ya hear, friend? Those fancy mares managed to persuade that dang ol’ dragon to take up shop somewhere else. Just goes to show ya that when ya try to understand somepony…” Wesker grabbed the most recent violator of his sanity and held him aloft, staring eye to eye with the chestnut brown stallion with a black mane. “Tell me something, friend. Do I exude an aura of friendliness and approachability?” “Erm… well maybe not on the outside, friend.” He shrugged and kicked his dangling hooves slightly for emphasis, “but I bet deep down you’re just lookin’ for…” “Have you ever wondered what it’d be like to choke to death?” Wesker interrupted before pausing briefly. “Friend.” “Not particularly, friend. Though I remember my grandpappy once ate two apples at once and I thought to myself… Urk!” “As fascinating as your grandfather’s apple story may well be, I’ve realised you’re slightly too dense for intimidation, so instead I’m going to extradite myself from this conversation immediately.” He lowered the stallion to the ground and stalked off without looking behind him, his eye only twitching slightly when he heard the call behind him. “Okay now, y’all have a good one, y’hear?” “Golden Harvest’s finest carrots. You sir, the furious looking stallion with the cat eyes and the great hair, can I interest you in some carrots?” “Absolutely not.” He continued walking before catching himself, “Wait. Actually, yes.” Munching his carrot as he strolled towards the edge of the universe, Wesker deliberated over the circumstances that had brought him to this ludicrous point of what he laughably called a life. Was this situation avoidable? Did he try hard enough to integrate himself into the community? Was it Dark’s fault for bringing up such unpleasant memories and disturbing his mental state? Or are you just fundamentally unstable, Albert? Don’t listen to him, Al. Munch that carrot and think happy thoughts. “Fine day for a carrot, am I right?” Wesker halted in his tracks and glanced over disinterestedly at yet another attempt at forcing him into a conversation, this time from a purple mare with a light pink mane. “Are you testing me?” “I’m sorry?” “It’s just that the sentence you just uttered was the most benign, forgettable attempt at starting a conversation in all of recorded history. I feel like instead of you genuinely trying to chat with me about whether or not the day is in fact nice enough to digest carrots, you were instead trying to erode my sanity and drive me to despair.” She stared blankly at the former Umbrella scientist, trying to formulate some kind of response as her mouth flapped soundlessly. “Never mind. I’m going to carry on walking. Have a nice day.” If he had to choose an upside to his rapidly disappearing sanity, it was probably the fact that he no longer had to pretend to give a damn about hurting ponies’ feelings. It felt tremendously liberating. For some reason, however, he felt slightly wistful. Sentimental, even, if his psyche could handle such an emotion. There was no doubt that a simple farm life was an unmitigated waste of his talents, but when he had briefly decided to immerse himself in it before he had any other option it had been somewhat… calming. Why not go back, Albert? I’m sure they’d love a psychopath on the farm. However blunt Cynical was about the scenario, he was right. The severing of ties that he had just undertaken was fairly conclusive. No chance of sheepishly strolling back and pretending that he had just been suffering with a fever for that brief period of time. Eventually he made it past the market square and the cluster of houses in the centre of Ponyville. Somewhat coincidentally he realised that he was heading the direction of the very farm he had just been musing about. No offence, Al, but If you turn around and have to walk all the way back through I am going to laugh my ass off. Not happening. A direction had been picked and he was going to walk in that same direction until his sanity reasserted itself and he woke up in the real world. Or you die, Albert. ‘Or I die.’ Wesker mused, ‘in which case I may end up in a world which makes a modicum of sense and I won’t have my worth measured by how many friends I can make.’ Friends... That elicited another twinge of something unrecognisable to him. He’d dismissed the idea of having friends outright only a few moments earlier. Wesker sighed heavily. If there was a downside to the erosion of his sanity, it was the erratic nature of his thoughts and emotions. For a very loose definition of the word ‘emotions’. Fortunately, his mental self-conflagration was brought to an abrupt halt by his arrival at Sweet Apple Acres. As he walked through the rows of fields to a destination which was both incredibly specific and possibly non-existent, he passed a large red earth pony passively and resolutely tending to the cultivated land. Big Macintosh glanced up towards him, eyes questioning. “I’m just here because I’ve broken through the ceiling of reality. I’ve decided to walk in a straight line and keep going until I exit this false existence.” “…Eeyup.” Applejack’s brother averted his eyes downwards and continued his work. “Thank you for understanding.” I’m glad you put it that way, Albert, otherwise it may have sounded like the insane ramblings of a lunatic. The smell of freshly tilled soil assaulted his nostrils and a soft breeze brushed against his cheek as he walked resolutely across Sweet Apple Acres. If nothing else, the scenery on his one-way trip to nowhere was absolutely gorgeous. This thought was not replicated once his steadfast route took him to the outskirts of the Everfree Forest. The dark, foreboding outline of the trees and the subtle rustles and noises just on the edge of his hearing didn’t intimidate or frighten him in the slightest. His real concern with crossing this threshold was that it felt like the final, concrete reaction of the strange second life that had been thrust upon him. Wesker tilted his head slightly to the side, popping the joints in his neck, before straightening up and running a hoof through his blond mane. No time like the present. Whack! Something slapped against the side of his head and he snarled confusedly, eyes darting all around his vicinity before noting the scroll that had just materialised at his feet. He arched a single eyebrow. Someone was trying to get in touch with him? He highly doubted it would have any effect on the decision he was about to make, but he nonetheless decided it was worth reading before stepping into the spooky forest. Dear Albert, He smirked. So formal. I know you told me and my friends not to follow you, but I couldn’t just let you run away. I hope you won’t count this as chasing after you. I’m worried about you, when you shouted about the dragon you sounded… The smirk disappeared. Anyway, it sounds like you’ve lived a tough life, Albert, and I can’t even begin to understand. You said some really scary things, but if I’ve learned anything from my time in Ponyville, it’s never to write off a friend. Wesker had never wanted to roll his eyes more in his entire life, but for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to do it. I’ve let Princess Luna and Princess Celestia know what happened. When you talked about visions, it sounded strangely familiar. I believe you have the strength to face yourself, even if you’re too proud to share that burden with anyone else. I believe in you, Albert. I’m so worried about him, you weren’t there, Spike, you didn’t see… Are you still writing this down, Spike?? Stop writing! Your friend, Twilight Sparkle Despite himself, Albert Wesker laughed aloud at the ending. No cruelty and no irony… just a genuine laugh at a friend’s folly. Another jolt of something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. That word again. He looked back at the farm and the distant, indistinct shape of Ponyville itself. Then back to the letter, then to the foreboding forest entrance. Another heaving sigh pushed its way past his lips. He reread the letter again, wanting to, but being unable to scoff at the optimism and ludicrous overvaluation of the idea of friendship. A small smile flickered unwillingly across his face as he gently rolled the scroll up, before slowly shaking his head and marching into the jaws of the Everfree Forest.