*This may be weird, writing the same fic from a different point of view, but after I read over Beneath the Red a couple times I realized that Vincent had a much, much different story. I promise you that the only similarity between the two is dialogue and specific circumstance. Vincent is a very complex person, and I felt the need to express that. For those of you who did not read Beneath the Red, I recommend it, but you don't really need to.*
*oh yes, I don't own 'em. Check the prof for the details*
Lamentations
Prologue
Secrets… Secrets…
It was hideous.
What I had stumbled upon by pure coincidence pulled up a wretchedness best left unnamed from my very soul. The black stain on my heart spilled out unto its beginnings as my damnable curiosity for the dust ridden computer revealed something even more despicable about Hojo.
He had taped it.
The bastard got his sick kicks not from just defiling all that was once me, but from watching it over and over again, possibly sharing the footage with others as twisted as himself. Humiliation on a whole new level stabbed me with a pang of old hatred and helplessness. Things I thought long taken care of, shoved under swallowed sorrow and heartbreak that left me with a constant dull melancholy ache, stirred, swelled and threatened to break the stranger I played behind all day.
No. No one could ever see this again.
With a shaking hand I removed the disc and tucked it into a random pocket. For what purpose I couldn't guess. I was outside myself suddenly, my utter self control weakening in my swirl of hatred and the growls of Chaos.
The demons bubbled up and burst in me, my arm acting on it's own accord. I don't know what I thought destroying the thing would accomplish, but it did give a glimmer of satisfaction to see Hojo's work destroyed.
How uncivilized of me. I brushed the glass from my prosthetic limb in disgust. Unclean. Very much so. I was sorry I ever told Cloud to come here. It was time to leave.
I swept down the library row and stopped. A glimmer of movement and a whiff of nicotine. Fear. Or more close to awe and horror.
"Cid," I accused, not turning around. He had seen it all. A sort of twist landed in my stomach. He had stumbled upon my most shameful secret, and though he didn't pass off as the gossiping type, I could just see the rumors, the whispers and the stares from here. He now knew things that not even Lucrecia had, and that made him dangerous.
"If you tell anyone… I will kill you."
End Prologue
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