Title: Loving Corpses
Summary: Everyone knows what Cloud is, and they put it to good use. He just wishes that a night of passion didn't always have to be rewarded with waking to another dead lover.
Warnings: boy/boy, dark themes
Disclaimer: Do I really need to say it? Not mine.


Cloud is a monster, by just about any standard. It's what Hojo made him, as countless others. There is no switch to turn or spell to cast to stop his power, the fact remaining: that's just how he is. Yeah, just how he is... And it's no secret, within the walls of Shin Ra. Everyone knows what Cloud is, and they put it to good use. He just wishes that a night of passion didn't always have to be rewarded with waking to another dead lover.

By now, he's used to it, though, removing the cold hand from his waist, turning to caress the dead -though smiling- face of the war prisoner. "I hope you enjoyed this, baby," he tells the cadaver softly, so softly he might not have heard it, even if he was still alive. He kisses his forehead, his cheek bone, the side of his jaw and finally his lips in a ritual sacred to him. He moves the naked body to its back, crossing it's arms and covering it with a crisp white sheet from beneath the bed, though not before checking for a pulse -as he always did- part of him hoping it would be there, but knowing full well it wouldn't be. As usual, the beat had forsaken the corpse, the spirit having returned to the planet. He gathers the semen he would remember the prisoner by. Shin Ra dismissed the behavior long ago, just about encouraging it, really. They'd decided it was what any serial killer would do; why should an executioner behave any different. He smears the transparent fluid over the glass slide, as he had always done, stowing it in his bag.

He moves to the shower stall of the sparse -though comfortable- room, ridding himself of dried sweat, amongst other things, making quick work of it all before drying off and dressing.

He knocks on the wall. "36-10-59-97," he says, confirming that he is the executioner. The guard opens the door, unable to repress a shudder at the sight of the blond man, who seemed to creep out everyone except the first-class SOLDIERs. Cloud mentally smiles to himself, deciding to have some fun while he's still here. He cups the tan man's face, the warden relaxing to his touch. They always did. "It's horrible, isn't it?" he asks, faking the beginnings of tears.

"Wh-what is?" the guard replies.

"I wake up the morning after someone makes love to me and they're always...they're always...! Oh, I'm sorry, you don't really want to hear all this, do you?" he apologizes, subtly blinking the first tear down his cheek. "What is your name?" he inquires, acting lost in some sense.

"Daemon. Daemon Braskley," the warden replies, reaching out to hold the blond in front of him, to comfort the distressed being -that really isn't distressed at all, but really just screwing with him.

"What a beautiful and fitting name," he smiles, able to seem genuine, though it wouldn't really matter with the man already under his spell. "Thank you for insuring my safety this morning, Daemon." He finally breaks contact, the larger man still in a mild daze. He continues to Sephiroth's office; he needs someone to talk to and the general was usually there by now, even though it's only little past 6:00 A.M.

He doesn't even knock, just comes in and sits in front of the desk. Sephiroth looks up from his papers, removing slim reading glasses. "I was expecting you sooner. Did something happen?"

"No, just woke up late."

"Hn," the older man acknowledges. "Was there anything special this time?"

"No, same as always. So, shaken, as always..."

"Come here," the silveret beckons. Cloud complies, walking around the desk, in front of his superior. He pulls the fragile blond onto his lap, pulling him sideways and holding him close. "I know what they say, but they're wrong. You aren't a monster; you can't help what you do. If you could, you would have settled down by now. I know you, Cloud. I know how lonely you get, how heartbreaking it is that the only time you can be intimate with someone is while you kill them. That you can't bring your dates past your door because you're afraid of what might happen."

The younger is in tears -real tears- by this point. And he's not influencing Sephiroth, that's probably what breaks him most, that the commander is saying all this all on his own, that he really does understand. "I don't want to do this any more! I want to be a normal soldier, not dispose of our prisoners..."

"I know what you mean. It kills me to know how much this hurts you. But someone has to do it, and I feel that you're the best person for this."

"What do you mean? Seph... I fucking murder them with my body. I have sex with people, and they die. That's my fucking job..."

"But I can't think of a better way to go. If I was going to die by anyone's hand, I'd want it to be yours. You can't deny it, Cloud. They enjoy what you do to them. After they suffer down there for weeks -sometimes months- they're miserable. Then they get taken to the execution chamber without even knowing what it is, and you give them the best way of dying anyone could ask for. You're not exactly a scythe or guillotine, in case you haven't noticed. But that's not all you are, either. You love people, like Zack and I. Angeal and Genesis, too. You love us, but you hardly touch us, because you're so scared. Come over, tonight, after work. We'll prove you don't have to be afraid."

"Seph..."

"You won't hurt us," he says, moving back, to look gently at the boy in his lap. "I know you won't."

"I hope you're right," the executioner breathes, shakily. "Because I'm so tired of loving corpses..."


A/N: So, I know I said I was going to finish my other story first, but...well, I can't help it; I love this idea. So, expect another chapter, soon~ ^_^

I hope you all enjoyed this dark little thing, and I'm crossing my fingers for a review or two. Have a nice day.