Author's Note: This originally was just one long story, but for convenience I've
decided to split it into several parts, and post them within a few days of each other.
Thanks to darknightdestiny for the idea of splitting it up, it IS more manageable this way.
I'm not gonna lie, this is a very dark demented fic. It has an 'R' rating due to its
general twisted-ness, gore, and Hojo's potty-mouth. You've been warned...
~ Rene (seasonofthepumpkin)
* * *
"What was it that you hoped to accomplish? Did you really think this could
resolve itself without tragedy? That there would be no blood spilt, or dreams squandered?
I really pity you, if only you had realized..."
Hojo carefully eased the dying, barely conscious young man onto the desk that was
cluttered with various text, and novel scientific apparatus. He pushed some off the offending
clutter from the smooth wood, comfortably arranging Vincent's feverish body. Blood burbled up
from the Turks lips, trickling like a tiny crimson river down the valley of his pale
skin. His eyes had already lost their glint of life, and with that glimmer had been taken
all of his personality, all of the man Vincent Valentine was, leaving a weak, gasping man
on a desktop, his lungs filling with blood. His darkly fringed eyes fixed themselves with a
tearful resoluteness on the older man who leaned over his prone form, his face contorted in
worry.
No, he couldn't just let the Turk die; he still had so much he wanted to
say to him. Things he wanted to tell him, to watch him break under his words. Yes, he
wanted to save him to devour later; he needed time to fully enjoy crushing this adulterous
beast. And time was running out with every drop of blood that filled the man's lungs.
"Why do this..." The Turk gasped out, bringing up the words from the depths of his
heart, bringing with them quite a large amount of the precious crimson liquid. Not satisfied
with his words, he struggled to form another few syllables, even if doing so would mean his
death. "to h...her...and..." The man shuddered with the pain that washed over his body, his
chest wracked with spasms. His companion, busily gathering surgical paraphernalia, momentaril
y paused at hearing his victim wrench out a few words.
"If I were you, I'd lie still, and stop talking. That's not going to heal itself,
you know. I suggest you lay back and let me take care of this." Holding a hypodermic needle
up to the light, he continued to speak to the bleeding man. "Not another word out of you,
if you can help it. This shouldn't be too hard...but I'll be pressed for time, so don't do
anything that might hinder me..."
"..." The Turk weakly shut his eyes, not wanting to witness the hypodermic pierce
his skin, and flood him with numbness. The pain still roared, but a bit lower now, as if
partially sated by the translucent look the world was beginning to take on for the dying man.
Right now he could see through everything, everything was transparent yet with a
solid-ness that could not be denied. He could see through the man that hunched over him,
already preparing to make his incisions, to the entrance of the library, from there to the
stairs, to the house, to the town, to the surrounding mountains. He could see the entire
world, and yet he could not see her.
The doctor nervously clamped back the layers of muscle, searching for the
offending slug, and upon discovering it, began to painstakingly extract it. Vincent moaned,
but Hojo could not divert his attention from the matter at hand to see what was wrong.
The moan did not originate from pain, the subdued tone of it told him that. It was rather
a delirious one, most likely Vincent was doped out of his mind, higher than he'd ever been
in his life.
Everything was foggy now. Vincent was no longer lying on a gore-streaked desk;
he was in the cave behind the waterfall waiting for her to come. He could hear the professor
swear contemptuously beneath his breath; otherwise he would swear that the entire evening had
been but a dream, that reality was the illusion, and illusion reality. Giving up on putting
the pieces together, he focused on staring at the entrance of the cave, surely she'd not keep
him much longer.
The worst of the operation was over; Hojo had removed the bullet and repaired the lung,
now came the stitching and bandaging. As this would be much easier to accomplish, Hojo began
to talk to the drugged man, trying to keep his own nervousness at bay.
He didn't have to worry about being overheard and discovered, for the most of the team had
already quit out of frustration, and the remaining members were attending a conference at the
Shin-Ra building, leaving him here to watch the place. He could talk as loudly as he wished,
say anything he wanted and no one would ever be the wiser.
"I suppose you wonder why I did this to you. I mean, you come down to talk to me, and BOOM.
You couldn't have seen that one coming. Hell, I don't think anyone could have...I just don't
look like the type to own a gun, hmmm? Much less know how to fire one. But I digress,"
he said in a conversational voice, stitching the gaping wound shut, admiring his handiwork.
"And you did all of this for her. Now you lie on this desk bleeding to death, and what for? A
woman you could never have.
I suppose you loved her. You know, as much as I try, I cannot be angry with you for
that alone. It wasn't that which set me off. She was mine, Valentine. You stole from me
every time you touched her, every kiss you received from her belonged to me. You took
something of mine, and I cannot let you get away with that. You are a thief, and the worst
kind at that.
You wanted her, and you couldn't understand why you couldn't have her.
You couldn't accept the fact that she was already taken. And, as funny as it seems,
I know how you felt. To be denied something you want more than anything in the world...
Feh! Next thing you know, I'll be going mad with remorse."
At that remark, he stiffened his lips a tight line of self-control. No, he would feel
sorry for this man, never! He was an adulterer, the worst kind of thief! He brushed an errant
strand of black out of his own face, wiping his face onto the sleeve of his lab coat. His
eyes narrowed at the thought of this man with his wife, and what they must have done together.
"What are you doing? Let him die, he is of no use to us." The voice curled
like smoke drifting aimlessly inside of his head, tickling his brain. This was JENOVA,
crisis from the sky, and the master of his mind. She always had been a rather vocal entity,
but tonight she had been practically silent up until now.
"You will regret this."
"I don't regret what I am doing, and I don't think I ever will. He can't die
just yet," He whispered, voice beginning to break.
"So...there." He gasped, chest heaving.
He gritted his teeth and clutched his head, trying to
tear himself away from the accusing voices that pricked his brain mercilessly.
"Traitor, traitor, traitor, traitor, TRAITOR! You betrayer! You'll save this
man who threatened your Mother? This Turk who almost took my daughter and your wife from us?
Traitor. Hypocrite, Two-faced wretch!" Her thin, hate filled voice wrapped itself around
his gray matter, squeezing viciously with each word. Hojo cried out in pain, pulling at his
hair, his entire being burning with pain.
"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" He screamed, bashing his head against the wall, with
every blow seeming to silence the voice a little. He continued until the voice had stopped
completely. He smiled weakly, thanking the gods for the silence he had fought so hard for.
The smile faded as he realized this was only a temporary victory, She would likely return
with a vengeance.
Talk about a love/hate relationship. Hojo practically worshipped JENOVA as a goddess,
offering him and his own up for her divine use, and yet he somehow hated her. For all of his
devotion, all of his adoration, everything he had given her, JENOVA merely demanded more and
more, never satisfied with what he could give. She was a selfish, controlling bitch that was
for sure. Hell, she owned him, mind, body and soul, wasn't that enough? He had given her his
wife's body to house her perfect warrior. What business of hers was his revenge on the monster
that had stolen his wife? For once, he would have his say in the matter.
"I am not betraying anyone. If you truly wanted him dead, you'd have no difficulty
in achieving your goal. After all, dear Mother, you yourself said 'I will cast those whom
I will into the abyss, and pull back those that I will have not.' I have chosen to pull him
back for now, for my own reasons, he'll not die just yet. I have betrayed no one." He
asserted dryly, turning his attentions back onto Vincent, who had begun to toss his head,
moaning. From the look on his deathly pale face, Hojo didn't have a hard time guessing what
Vincent was dreaming.
"You Turks are truly as degenerate as the rumors say. How ironical.
It was your sins that condemned you; I very nearly tossed you into the lake of
fire myself. But instead I redeemed you, pulled you back from the brink of death.
And you've fled back to your sin before I've even removed the bandages. How depressing.
I guess you'll never learn, will you?" He shook his head and sighed, gingerly touching
his face, and winced when his fingers came away red.
"Do as you will then, but mark my words, this man will be your undoing.
Since you refuse to listen to Mother, I'll just let you learn the hard way, love.
Perhaps when he has shredded you like so much confetti and you lie there crying for
Mother's help, maybe I'll hear you." JENOVA's voice had lost its furious edge, now it was
merely smug. Dancing about lazily in the recesses of his head, voice fading even as she made
her declaration.
"Damn it...I need coffee..." The scientist pulled himself away from the still
twitching young man, intent on satisfying his caffeine needs. He slowly made his way to
the coffeepot that sat idly on one of the many bookshelves. He poured a cup, and drank it
down black. Still warm.
***
His beloved had entered the cave on tiptoe, stealing about as a thief anxious
of discovery. She took one slow, cautious step, them a few quick ones, darting her green
eyes back and forth before beginning the pattern again. Caricaturing the movements outrageously,
she looked so utterly ridiculous he had to laugh. Ceasing her farce, she swiftly ran to him,
covering his laughing mouth with her own.
He leaned into the kiss, savoring the sweet taste of her lips until she pulled away,
a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"Is the coast clear?" He managed to say before she resumed the kiss with as much
vigor as before.
A moment or two passed before she pulled away again, wrapping her arms around him,
laying her head on his warm chest sighing contentedly.
"All quiet on the western front," she teased, hugging Vincent surprisingly hard
for her frail form.
Vincent gently kissed the top of her head, and gasped at her bear hug.
"Hey, easy there, honey...don't want to break me, do ya?" He laughed, sweeping
the woman off her feet, cradling her in his arms. She wrapped her arms about his neck,
busy showering him in kisses almost frantically. He returned the soft kisses, deeply
inhaling her scent, of soap, that delicious perfume she always wore and something
unidentifiable, some thing that was Lucrecia. He never tired of her fragrance;
the mere scent drove him wild. He managed to speak in the midst of all of this,
and this time his words were serious.
"'Crecia, I've missed you so much. I can hardly bear to keep this act up much longer.
It's sheer torture to not be able to hold you, nor kiss you, or even tell you I love you.
When can we end this charade, leave this town, leave it all, and start all over again?
I don't know how much longer I can do this, Lucrecia..."
She stopped her quick little kisses at that announcement, her eyes meeting his
beautiful brown ones. A hurt look appeared on her pretty face, as she gazed up at
him. Vincent wincing at taking the smile from those lips, silky lips he couldn't
bear to see turn down.
"Vincent...you know I want to be with you, you know I want to make you happy,
and I know I can. We can be happy the rest of our life together, but we have to
be careful, oh so careful if we ever want to see that happiness come to fruition.
Don't you understand what he'd do if he found out..." She almost whimpered at that,
burying her face in his shoulder.
"Oh, 'Crecia...you're right...we'll make it somehow, we always do. I wish everything
would disappear, and you and I would stay...I love you..." he whispered, stroking her
shining hair, reveling in the silkiness of it.
"Vincent...you'll never, ever leave me, will you?"
"Never."
"You'll always be with me?"
"Always."
"Promise me, Vincent," she said with a ferocity that caught him off guard,
the raw emotion captured on her face. She beseeched him with wide green eyes,
all her love more apparent at that moment than it had ever been.
"I promise, with all my heart I do. I will never, ever leave you, and I'll never
let anyone hurt you, Lucrecia. I'll never leave you, I couldn't go on living if I lost
you." He felt her petite body stiffen, and winced as her fingernails dug into the back
of his neck, drawing blood.
"You liar." She hissed, eyes glowing a faint green, her loving features twisting
into a horrible mockery of His beloved Lucrecia's face. This thing he held was no
woman, it was a malicious little imp dredged up from hell itself. "You lie. You're
just like he was, selfish, selfish, selfish! Sure, he wanted nothing but an incubator
for his demon spawn, only wanted a specimen to experiment on. But you're a thousand times
more selfish than he ever was!" She screamed, biting viscously into his shoulder. Even now,
he refused to drop her, he held on desperately, begging her to come to her senses.
"Lucrecia, I love you! I love you more than life itself! Please, please snap out
of this! Lucrecia!" He cried, the demon still sinking its fangs into the blood-soaked
sleeve, clearly enjoying the man's pleas.
"Don't even speak my name, you liar! You don't love me, you never did! You never
loved me one bit. You only loved the idea of love! Oh, selfish, selfish man! Hojo
stole my health from me, and you stole my heart! And you never cared! Vincent, you
only cared about yourself the whole time!" the monster's voice began to break, even
as she suckled his wound, fastening her tiny, sharp little teeth into his flesh.
"And what have I now? Don't turn away from me, look at me damn you! Look well, because
you did this to me! And you know what the worst of it is? I trusted you, I believed you
when you said you'd never let anything bad happen to me...you didn't stop him, Vincent!
You let him inject that glop into me, every day, every single day! You saw it was making
me sick Vincent! But you wouldn't stop him! You lied to me, Vincent Valentine, you lied!"
"Lucrecia, please! I tried; I tried to talk you both out of it! I tried to stop him!
I didn't leave you, Lucrecia, I love you..." He stumbled back against the caverns rock
wall, the hideous woman-thing still draining him. He still wouldn't release her from his
arms, even as he sank to the ground, the world before him growing dark. He closed his eyes
in defeat, resigning himself to his fate.
"Vincent," It called, raising its head from the copiously bleeding wound. "Kiss me,
Vincent. One last kiss." He slowly opened two incredibly heavy eyelids, and turned
to face his beloved.
A charred skull grinned back at him, the sockets occupied by two bloody materia orbs
reflecting the green light that lay behind them...
*end part one*
decided to split it into several parts, and post them within a few days of each other.
Thanks to darknightdestiny for the idea of splitting it up, it IS more manageable this way.
I'm not gonna lie, this is a very dark demented fic. It has an 'R' rating due to its
general twisted-ness, gore, and Hojo's potty-mouth. You've been warned...
~ Rene (seasonofthepumpkin)
* * *
"What was it that you hoped to accomplish? Did you really think this could
resolve itself without tragedy? That there would be no blood spilt, or dreams squandered?
I really pity you, if only you had realized..."
Hojo carefully eased the dying, barely conscious young man onto the desk that was
cluttered with various text, and novel scientific apparatus. He pushed some off the offending
clutter from the smooth wood, comfortably arranging Vincent's feverish body. Blood burbled up
from the Turks lips, trickling like a tiny crimson river down the valley of his pale
skin. His eyes had already lost their glint of life, and with that glimmer had been taken
all of his personality, all of the man Vincent Valentine was, leaving a weak, gasping man
on a desktop, his lungs filling with blood. His darkly fringed eyes fixed themselves with a
tearful resoluteness on the older man who leaned over his prone form, his face contorted in
worry.
No, he couldn't just let the Turk die; he still had so much he wanted to
say to him. Things he wanted to tell him, to watch him break under his words. Yes, he
wanted to save him to devour later; he needed time to fully enjoy crushing this adulterous
beast. And time was running out with every drop of blood that filled the man's lungs.
"Why do this..." The Turk gasped out, bringing up the words from the depths of his
heart, bringing with them quite a large amount of the precious crimson liquid. Not satisfied
with his words, he struggled to form another few syllables, even if doing so would mean his
death. "to h...her...and..." The man shuddered with the pain that washed over his body, his
chest wracked with spasms. His companion, busily gathering surgical paraphernalia, momentaril
y paused at hearing his victim wrench out a few words.
"If I were you, I'd lie still, and stop talking. That's not going to heal itself,
you know. I suggest you lay back and let me take care of this." Holding a hypodermic needle
up to the light, he continued to speak to the bleeding man. "Not another word out of you,
if you can help it. This shouldn't be too hard...but I'll be pressed for time, so don't do
anything that might hinder me..."
"..." The Turk weakly shut his eyes, not wanting to witness the hypodermic pierce
his skin, and flood him with numbness. The pain still roared, but a bit lower now, as if
partially sated by the translucent look the world was beginning to take on for the dying man.
Right now he could see through everything, everything was transparent yet with a
solid-ness that could not be denied. He could see through the man that hunched over him,
already preparing to make his incisions, to the entrance of the library, from there to the
stairs, to the house, to the town, to the surrounding mountains. He could see the entire
world, and yet he could not see her.
The doctor nervously clamped back the layers of muscle, searching for the
offending slug, and upon discovering it, began to painstakingly extract it. Vincent moaned,
but Hojo could not divert his attention from the matter at hand to see what was wrong.
The moan did not originate from pain, the subdued tone of it told him that. It was rather
a delirious one, most likely Vincent was doped out of his mind, higher than he'd ever been
in his life.
Everything was foggy now. Vincent was no longer lying on a gore-streaked desk;
he was in the cave behind the waterfall waiting for her to come. He could hear the professor
swear contemptuously beneath his breath; otherwise he would swear that the entire evening had
been but a dream, that reality was the illusion, and illusion reality. Giving up on putting
the pieces together, he focused on staring at the entrance of the cave, surely she'd not keep
him much longer.
The worst of the operation was over; Hojo had removed the bullet and repaired the lung,
now came the stitching and bandaging. As this would be much easier to accomplish, Hojo began
to talk to the drugged man, trying to keep his own nervousness at bay.
He didn't have to worry about being overheard and discovered, for the most of the team had
already quit out of frustration, and the remaining members were attending a conference at the
Shin-Ra building, leaving him here to watch the place. He could talk as loudly as he wished,
say anything he wanted and no one would ever be the wiser.
"I suppose you wonder why I did this to you. I mean, you come down to talk to me, and BOOM.
You couldn't have seen that one coming. Hell, I don't think anyone could have...I just don't
look like the type to own a gun, hmmm? Much less know how to fire one. But I digress,"
he said in a conversational voice, stitching the gaping wound shut, admiring his handiwork.
"And you did all of this for her. Now you lie on this desk bleeding to death, and what for? A
woman you could never have.
I suppose you loved her. You know, as much as I try, I cannot be angry with you for
that alone. It wasn't that which set me off. She was mine, Valentine. You stole from me
every time you touched her, every kiss you received from her belonged to me. You took
something of mine, and I cannot let you get away with that. You are a thief, and the worst
kind at that.
You wanted her, and you couldn't understand why you couldn't have her.
You couldn't accept the fact that she was already taken. And, as funny as it seems,
I know how you felt. To be denied something you want more than anything in the world...
Feh! Next thing you know, I'll be going mad with remorse."
At that remark, he stiffened his lips a tight line of self-control. No, he would feel
sorry for this man, never! He was an adulterer, the worst kind of thief! He brushed an errant
strand of black out of his own face, wiping his face onto the sleeve of his lab coat. His
eyes narrowed at the thought of this man with his wife, and what they must have done together.
"What are you doing? Let him die, he is of no use to us." The voice curled
like smoke drifting aimlessly inside of his head, tickling his brain. This was JENOVA,
crisis from the sky, and the master of his mind. She always had been a rather vocal entity,
but tonight she had been practically silent up until now.
"You will regret this."
"I don't regret what I am doing, and I don't think I ever will. He can't die
just yet," He whispered, voice beginning to break.
"So...there." He gasped, chest heaving.
He gritted his teeth and clutched his head, trying to
tear himself away from the accusing voices that pricked his brain mercilessly.
"Traitor, traitor, traitor, traitor, TRAITOR! You betrayer! You'll save this
man who threatened your Mother? This Turk who almost took my daughter and your wife from us?
Traitor. Hypocrite, Two-faced wretch!" Her thin, hate filled voice wrapped itself around
his gray matter, squeezing viciously with each word. Hojo cried out in pain, pulling at his
hair, his entire being burning with pain.
"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" He screamed, bashing his head against the wall, with
every blow seeming to silence the voice a little. He continued until the voice had stopped
completely. He smiled weakly, thanking the gods for the silence he had fought so hard for.
The smile faded as he realized this was only a temporary victory, She would likely return
with a vengeance.
Talk about a love/hate relationship. Hojo practically worshipped JENOVA as a goddess,
offering him and his own up for her divine use, and yet he somehow hated her. For all of his
devotion, all of his adoration, everything he had given her, JENOVA merely demanded more and
more, never satisfied with what he could give. She was a selfish, controlling bitch that was
for sure. Hell, she owned him, mind, body and soul, wasn't that enough? He had given her his
wife's body to house her perfect warrior. What business of hers was his revenge on the monster
that had stolen his wife? For once, he would have his say in the matter.
"I am not betraying anyone. If you truly wanted him dead, you'd have no difficulty
in achieving your goal. After all, dear Mother, you yourself said 'I will cast those whom
I will into the abyss, and pull back those that I will have not.' I have chosen to pull him
back for now, for my own reasons, he'll not die just yet. I have betrayed no one." He
asserted dryly, turning his attentions back onto Vincent, who had begun to toss his head,
moaning. From the look on his deathly pale face, Hojo didn't have a hard time guessing what
Vincent was dreaming.
"You Turks are truly as degenerate as the rumors say. How ironical.
It was your sins that condemned you; I very nearly tossed you into the lake of
fire myself. But instead I redeemed you, pulled you back from the brink of death.
And you've fled back to your sin before I've even removed the bandages. How depressing.
I guess you'll never learn, will you?" He shook his head and sighed, gingerly touching
his face, and winced when his fingers came away red.
"Do as you will then, but mark my words, this man will be your undoing.
Since you refuse to listen to Mother, I'll just let you learn the hard way, love.
Perhaps when he has shredded you like so much confetti and you lie there crying for
Mother's help, maybe I'll hear you." JENOVA's voice had lost its furious edge, now it was
merely smug. Dancing about lazily in the recesses of his head, voice fading even as she made
her declaration.
"Damn it...I need coffee..." The scientist pulled himself away from the still
twitching young man, intent on satisfying his caffeine needs. He slowly made his way to
the coffeepot that sat idly on one of the many bookshelves. He poured a cup, and drank it
down black. Still warm.
***
His beloved had entered the cave on tiptoe, stealing about as a thief anxious
of discovery. She took one slow, cautious step, them a few quick ones, darting her green
eyes back and forth before beginning the pattern again. Caricaturing the movements outrageously,
she looked so utterly ridiculous he had to laugh. Ceasing her farce, she swiftly ran to him,
covering his laughing mouth with her own.
He leaned into the kiss, savoring the sweet taste of her lips until she pulled away,
a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"Is the coast clear?" He managed to say before she resumed the kiss with as much
vigor as before.
A moment or two passed before she pulled away again, wrapping her arms around him,
laying her head on his warm chest sighing contentedly.
"All quiet on the western front," she teased, hugging Vincent surprisingly hard
for her frail form.
Vincent gently kissed the top of her head, and gasped at her bear hug.
"Hey, easy there, honey...don't want to break me, do ya?" He laughed, sweeping
the woman off her feet, cradling her in his arms. She wrapped her arms about his neck,
busy showering him in kisses almost frantically. He returned the soft kisses, deeply
inhaling her scent, of soap, that delicious perfume she always wore and something
unidentifiable, some thing that was Lucrecia. He never tired of her fragrance;
the mere scent drove him wild. He managed to speak in the midst of all of this,
and this time his words were serious.
"'Crecia, I've missed you so much. I can hardly bear to keep this act up much longer.
It's sheer torture to not be able to hold you, nor kiss you, or even tell you I love you.
When can we end this charade, leave this town, leave it all, and start all over again?
I don't know how much longer I can do this, Lucrecia..."
She stopped her quick little kisses at that announcement, her eyes meeting his
beautiful brown ones. A hurt look appeared on her pretty face, as she gazed up at
him. Vincent wincing at taking the smile from those lips, silky lips he couldn't
bear to see turn down.
"Vincent...you know I want to be with you, you know I want to make you happy,
and I know I can. We can be happy the rest of our life together, but we have to
be careful, oh so careful if we ever want to see that happiness come to fruition.
Don't you understand what he'd do if he found out..." She almost whimpered at that,
burying her face in his shoulder.
"Oh, 'Crecia...you're right...we'll make it somehow, we always do. I wish everything
would disappear, and you and I would stay...I love you..." he whispered, stroking her
shining hair, reveling in the silkiness of it.
"Vincent...you'll never, ever leave me, will you?"
"Never."
"You'll always be with me?"
"Always."
"Promise me, Vincent," she said with a ferocity that caught him off guard,
the raw emotion captured on her face. She beseeched him with wide green eyes,
all her love more apparent at that moment than it had ever been.
"I promise, with all my heart I do. I will never, ever leave you, and I'll never
let anyone hurt you, Lucrecia. I'll never leave you, I couldn't go on living if I lost
you." He felt her petite body stiffen, and winced as her fingernails dug into the back
of his neck, drawing blood.
"You liar." She hissed, eyes glowing a faint green, her loving features twisting
into a horrible mockery of His beloved Lucrecia's face. This thing he held was no
woman, it was a malicious little imp dredged up from hell itself. "You lie. You're
just like he was, selfish, selfish, selfish! Sure, he wanted nothing but an incubator
for his demon spawn, only wanted a specimen to experiment on. But you're a thousand times
more selfish than he ever was!" She screamed, biting viscously into his shoulder. Even now,
he refused to drop her, he held on desperately, begging her to come to her senses.
"Lucrecia, I love you! I love you more than life itself! Please, please snap out
of this! Lucrecia!" He cried, the demon still sinking its fangs into the blood-soaked
sleeve, clearly enjoying the man's pleas.
"Don't even speak my name, you liar! You don't love me, you never did! You never
loved me one bit. You only loved the idea of love! Oh, selfish, selfish man! Hojo
stole my health from me, and you stole my heart! And you never cared! Vincent, you
only cared about yourself the whole time!" the monster's voice began to break, even
as she suckled his wound, fastening her tiny, sharp little teeth into his flesh.
"And what have I now? Don't turn away from me, look at me damn you! Look well, because
you did this to me! And you know what the worst of it is? I trusted you, I believed you
when you said you'd never let anything bad happen to me...you didn't stop him, Vincent!
You let him inject that glop into me, every day, every single day! You saw it was making
me sick Vincent! But you wouldn't stop him! You lied to me, Vincent Valentine, you lied!"
"Lucrecia, please! I tried; I tried to talk you both out of it! I tried to stop him!
I didn't leave you, Lucrecia, I love you..." He stumbled back against the caverns rock
wall, the hideous woman-thing still draining him. He still wouldn't release her from his
arms, even as he sank to the ground, the world before him growing dark. He closed his eyes
in defeat, resigning himself to his fate.
"Vincent," It called, raising its head from the copiously bleeding wound. "Kiss me,
Vincent. One last kiss." He slowly opened two incredibly heavy eyelids, and turned
to face his beloved.
A charred skull grinned back at him, the sockets occupied by two bloody materia orbs
reflecting the green light that lay behind them...
*end part one*
