Ada Wong: Ruby Dressed Assassin by Jade Gretz

https://www.deviantart.com/jadegretzai/art/Ada-Wong-Ruby-Dressed-Assassin-1222656754

Ada Wong: Ruby Dressed Assassin ANIMATION

Crimson Silks of the Ectype

Ada Wong had always believed that the greatest horrors wore familiar faces. But as the elevator doors peeled open with a metallic sigh, releasing a breath of air that smelled faintly of antiseptic and rotting citrus, even she could not deny the charge of unease that prickled along her spine.

The underground facility beneath the abandoned Veridian Hotel was never on any records—its existence stitched together only by rumor, whispers, and one intercepted communiqué hinting at an organism that behaved nothing like the T-virus forms she’d faced before. Something parasitic. Something that fed not merely on bodies, but on memory, intention, and will.

She stepped into the dim corridor, her red dress shifting like a flicker of flame in the dark.

“Lovely ambiance,” she murmured to herself, voice soft, wry. “Haunted-chic with a side of biohazard.”

Her heels clicked sharply, each step echoing like a countdown. She carried a compact grapnel device, a suppressor-equipped pistol, and a sleek black case of anti-viral ampoules—each one designed to counter strains no one outside the blackest operatives even knew existed.

Lights flickered. Air hummed. The deeper she walked, the more the walls seemed to pulse—barely perceptible, but breathing.

As though something was listening.

Something waiting.

1. The Ectype

Ada descended two more levels before reaching the central chamber. Glass panels lined the walls, each containing shapes suspended in viridian liquid—failed experiments twisted into grotesque configurations: limbs budding from torsos like unwanted blossoms, ribcages peeled open like fleshy cages, faces melted into blank sheets of skin.

But at the center of the room stood a cylindrical tank. Steel bands reinforced it. Frost clung to its surface. And behind the frost—

A human silhouette.

Ada approached, breath steady but alert.

“Another monster in a jar,” she whispered. “Let’s hope you’re the quiet type.”

But the frost stirred. A hand pressed against the tank’s interior—delicate, feminine, adorned with black nail polish smeared at the tips.

Ada leaned in.

The face peering back at her was unmistakably her own.

Her replica smiled.

Not a warm smile. Something sly, secretive. Something that knew her too well.

A whisper crackled through the intercom above—the voice of the project’s lead researcher, long dead, if the intel was correct.

“Project Ectype. A parasitic fusion model. The T-virus, when paired with mnemonic leeches… the result may imitate the host’s memories, mannerisms, even tactics. But it is not them. It is hunger clothed in familiarity.”

Ada exhaled. “So that’s the trick. You copy me, and then you replace me.”

The Ectype’s lips moved.

But the sound came from behind Ada.

“I don’t replace you,” a voice purred. “I perfect you.”

Ada spun.

The tank behind her was now open—its doors parted like ribs pulled wide.

Standing free was the creature wearing her face.

But its eyes… its eyes rippled like liquid ink.

2. A Conversation Between Reflections

“For someone claiming to be my improved version,” Ada said, pistol raised, “you certainly have the dramatic timing down.”

The creature tilted its head, studying her with eerie amusement.

“You always did enjoy the sound of your own wit. I find it… charming.” It took a step forward, its movements terrifyingly graceful. “But we cannot both exist. Your identity fractures, and I—”

Ada fired.

The bullet struck the clone’s shoulder.

Instead of blood, a burst of pale fibers unraveled from the wound, writhing like roots exposed to air.

The creature merely smiled. “You interrupt. How rude.”

Ada circled, keeping distance. “You’ll find I can be much ruder.”

“You misunderstand.” The creature traced a finger along the new wound, gently absorbing the fibers back into its flesh. “I feel what you feel. I want what you want. Even your secrets are mine. Why fight yourself?”

Ada’s tone sharpened. “Because I happen to like being me.”

The Ectype’s expression softened into something almost tender.

“But I like you too. That’s why I’ll keep your mind
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