~*Disclaimer*~ I do not own FF7, or Vincent and Tifa, thought Vincent will
be mine one day! Mwahahaha! *ahem* Uh, yeah, just ignore me.
Bittersweet Irony
Prologue
A cape fluttered in the night, a cloth of red, quickly disappearing around the corner, but it wasn't fast enough. The impending feeling of doom was overwhelming, and that alone was forcing him to run on, even though his lungs burned for air, his legs physically drained, yet still he pushed harder. He ran quickly through the darkened, twisted paths of cobblestone, his boots thudding in harmony with his heart, his blood red eyes scanning everything, missing nothing. The buildings were old and abandoned, and the wind howled, and that was the only noise here, other than his soft pants and his fluttering cape. It was a ghost town, empty and malicious, hiding dark secrets in the shadow of the night. The scenery was so much like his darkened soul it was frightening, but the ghosts that lingered here didn't frighten him. He heard the sounds of malicious laughter slice through the wind, ringing out true and clear, making him give an extra burst in his speed. He could make it; he could make it, just a little further . . . he felt evil's presence, stronger than ever now, and he veered to the right, stopping and leaning against a wall, giving it a slight pound in his frustration. Dead end. Silent whispers filled the air, overtaking the howling wind, drowning it out. He shut his eyes tightly, trying to drown out the accusing whispers, clenching his fist at his side. Still, the whispers grew in volume, threatening to make him go mad, surrounding him. It felt like he was a freak in a cage, being pointed and prodded at by a crowd of disgusted and horrified people, though the feeling wasn't new, the whispers were. Some were shrill, others horrified, but all were accusing.
"How does it feel, Vincent?" A voice sneered from the darkness, and Vincent turned slowly, eyes narrowed, seeming to expand with his fiery anger. The sense of doom and evil was so strong now, Vincent could almost taste it. That alone was uncomfortable, that and he couldn't see the person whom the malicious voice belonged to. "How does it feel to have your love taken away from you again?" The voice laughed, full of malice, and a sickening thud was heard as something was tossed from the shadows. Vincent's eyes flickered downward for a second, and his red eyes widened in unmaskable horror as bile rose in his throat. He fought back a scream as he felt his hand clutch at his throat. No . . . Vincent closed his eyes, looking away as he heard the same cruel laugher echo through the core of his being, trying to erase the picture in his head, though he still saw it. Tifa's dead and somehow accusing eyes stared back at him. The whispers heightened to deafening screams.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Vincent's blood red eyes shot open, his breathing ragged and uneven, his hand still clutching at his throat as he jolted up into a sitting position. Through his jagged gasps for breath, he managed to utter one word.
"Tifa."
~*Author's Notes*~ Mwahahaha! The sucky first chapter! Anyway, this is just a prologue, so it'll get better . . . hopefully. Um, it probably won't be as good as the first, so don't expect too much. I wasn't really planning on making a sequel anyway, but, inspiration cannot be denied! Pretty short, I'm sorry, but the next will be longer, promise! Well, I'm not sure if I should make this a story. Hmm, well, anyway, poor Vinnie! More nightmares have come to him! *sniffles* Well, read and review!
Bittersweet Irony
Prologue
A cape fluttered in the night, a cloth of red, quickly disappearing around the corner, but it wasn't fast enough. The impending feeling of doom was overwhelming, and that alone was forcing him to run on, even though his lungs burned for air, his legs physically drained, yet still he pushed harder. He ran quickly through the darkened, twisted paths of cobblestone, his boots thudding in harmony with his heart, his blood red eyes scanning everything, missing nothing. The buildings were old and abandoned, and the wind howled, and that was the only noise here, other than his soft pants and his fluttering cape. It was a ghost town, empty and malicious, hiding dark secrets in the shadow of the night. The scenery was so much like his darkened soul it was frightening, but the ghosts that lingered here didn't frighten him. He heard the sounds of malicious laughter slice through the wind, ringing out true and clear, making him give an extra burst in his speed. He could make it; he could make it, just a little further . . . he felt evil's presence, stronger than ever now, and he veered to the right, stopping and leaning against a wall, giving it a slight pound in his frustration. Dead end. Silent whispers filled the air, overtaking the howling wind, drowning it out. He shut his eyes tightly, trying to drown out the accusing whispers, clenching his fist at his side. Still, the whispers grew in volume, threatening to make him go mad, surrounding him. It felt like he was a freak in a cage, being pointed and prodded at by a crowd of disgusted and horrified people, though the feeling wasn't new, the whispers were. Some were shrill, others horrified, but all were accusing.
"How does it feel, Vincent?" A voice sneered from the darkness, and Vincent turned slowly, eyes narrowed, seeming to expand with his fiery anger. The sense of doom and evil was so strong now, Vincent could almost taste it. That alone was uncomfortable, that and he couldn't see the person whom the malicious voice belonged to. "How does it feel to have your love taken away from you again?" The voice laughed, full of malice, and a sickening thud was heard as something was tossed from the shadows. Vincent's eyes flickered downward for a second, and his red eyes widened in unmaskable horror as bile rose in his throat. He fought back a scream as he felt his hand clutch at his throat. No . . . Vincent closed his eyes, looking away as he heard the same cruel laugher echo through the core of his being, trying to erase the picture in his head, though he still saw it. Tifa's dead and somehow accusing eyes stared back at him. The whispers heightened to deafening screams.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Vincent's blood red eyes shot open, his breathing ragged and uneven, his hand still clutching at his throat as he jolted up into a sitting position. Through his jagged gasps for breath, he managed to utter one word.
"Tifa."
~*Author's Notes*~ Mwahahaha! The sucky first chapter! Anyway, this is just a prologue, so it'll get better . . . hopefully. Um, it probably won't be as good as the first, so don't expect too much. I wasn't really planning on making a sequel anyway, but, inspiration cannot be denied! Pretty short, I'm sorry, but the next will be longer, promise! Well, I'm not sure if I should make this a story. Hmm, well, anyway, poor Vinnie! More nightmares have come to him! *sniffles* Well, read and review!