Hey everyone, welcome to my story! After two years of enjoying all the great work on here, I decided to venture into the deep waters and write my own! I am very excited (squeals)! Well this is my first one and I hope will be an enjoyable read for all. I do not own anything or anyone of Final Fantasy VII (I bet everyone guessed that!) though it sure is fun creating my own twist on things for these fabulous characters! Comments, reviews, insights, and help are always welcome. I am sorry if my summary didn't really clue you in on anything. They are so hard to write! Gives you only 255 characters- jeez! So just read and I think you will get idea. Anywho... on to the story!
Chapter One- A Darkened Cell
He laid alone in the darkness of his cell, relishing the last few moments on his cot before the day would begin. His head was propped up on his right bicep. He never was one to use a pillow. He had so long been denied comforts that a pillow seemed useless frivolous. His long, flowing, silver hair pooled out around his body that wore only a simple pair of black pants. Luminous green eyes were shut lightly as he tried to recall the last traces of his dream. Always when he awoke, it would vanish like a morning mist when he stirred from the deep places of his unconscious mind. Strange how much one little dream could mean to a person. Yet when you had nothing but pain, agony, and loneliness your whole life, it was like having breath restored after drowning.
He squeezed his eyelids shut a bit more. It was in an almost vain, last effort, that if he only tried a little harder it might come back to him. For unlike all his other dreams and nightmares that plagued him in the darkness and solitude of his cell, this dream was different. Instead of fear and terror, his entire being would feel a tranquility that transcended anything he had ever felt or experienced. Suddenly his endeavor was rewarded. A flash of pink, chestnut hair, rosy lips smiling, and shimmering emerald eyes were given to him. The barest of smiles played across his thin lips. He opened his eyes now. A blank, silver wall greeted his gaze, but today it didn't appear as utterly bleak as it usual did. Instead it was just bleak. He had been given the slightest hint of hope for the otherwise dim, pointless life he lead. He pushed himself off his gray cot adored with a single wool blanket. He knew any moment it would come. Might as well while he was standing.
"Good morning Sephiroth,"a cold voice spoke into his cell via a speaker attached to the wall above his cot.
"Today I have for you a couple little experimental tests, your injection dosage of Mako, and you will also be needed for practice with some of the 1st Class SOLDIERS," the man's dead, heartless voice finished with a low chuckle before the room became silent once again. The hope and tranquility from his dreams vanished as the cold, harsh reality of his life once again set in.
"Perform would be a better term," he gritted, walking into a little alcove that held his bathroom in the windowless room.
"Just to be put on display for you, again. To demonstrate your vast intelligence and cunning, Hojo, in the form of one man," he spat the words out in utter disgust. He reached to turn the sink handle only to see the tattoo on his right hand glare up at him. A violent shudder racked through his being as he remembered how it had been imprinted on his body. It had been branded, like a common animal.
Yes, it was only a trivial thing compared to the other atrocities his mind and body had to endure, yet it hurt the most. No it wasn't his hand that ached, but his soul for what those digits stood for tortured him more than anything else. It was his constant reminder of what he truly was. An experiment, Hojo's prize experiment, and piece of Shinra's property. He was not even considered a human being, but a mass of flesh and unbridled power for Hojo and Shinra to do with as they saw fit. His whole life was dictated by that ruthless, heartless man's whims and fancies, and occasionally that of Shinra's when they needed his particular abilities such as bringing Wutai to its knees. But was worse than all those listed above were the words that followed every morning and evening floating down from the speaker, his daily mantra that he loathed with every atom of his person.
"You are a monster, Sephiroth, created for the sole purpose of bringing death and destruction. You know the definition of that word, monster- a cruel, wicked, inhuman person. You have no other lot in life. You are no longer what is considered human, for you have transcended all that. You have been altered to become the idle killing machine, to rack fear, terror, and torment in the lives of those who do not accomplish our bidding. You have no soul, you have no heart, you have no conscience. You are an empty shell, a monster. You care for no one, you have no attachments. You are alone. There is no hope for salvation for one like you. You can never have happiness or love. You are a monster, Sephiroth," the voice would fade into nothingness, leaving Sephiroth to gripe the sink so harshly his knuckles would turn white from the exertion. His breath came out in short gasps and his eyes were again squeezed painfully shut.
For ten years he had endured those words and he had tried his hardest to reject them. His will was strong, stronger than most, yet in the end even he could feel his resolve crumbling. He didn't want to believe those words, but everyday they became more real to him. To combat them, he calloused his heart, shut off his feelings. The problem with that was, he became more like the words recited to him. His heart became a little colder, a little darker and he feared that one day he would be consumed by it. He even at times would entertain thoughts of torturing Hojo until the madman begged to die.
He raised his head painfully up to look at his reflection. Luminous, glowing orbs stared back, silver hair draping around the sides of his face. Through clenched teeth he spoke to himself the words to keep his sanity and the words from becoming truth.
"I am not a monster." He exhaled deeply. He had been able to do it.
"I may loathe you, Hojo, but I will never allow myself to hate you fully. You will never have complete control over me," he finished, standing tall before the small 8 x 12 mirror.
Turning to his sink,he washed his face and brushed his teeth. Strolling over to his single, metal chair in the room's left corner, he picked up his leather trench coat and slid it over his shoulders, enjoying the feel of it covering his entire being. It gave him a small sense of protection, like the trench coat was a barrier against all those who would wish to use his body. Also it served to hide the numerous scars which had been inflicted upon him in the name of "experimental testing." The only part of him he allowed to be exposed to the public eye was his face, neck, and a small portion of his chiseled chest. He went through the multiple, metal buckles in seconds with his precise, practiced hands. Next, he sat down on the chairs and donned his boots. Lastly, he reached for leather gloves, covering over the hideous tattoo. He let out a sigh and walked to the door. His soldier escorts would be waiting. Time for the day to begin.
A pair of restraints for his hands came down from a compartment in the ceiling. He begrudgingly allowed himself to again be shackled. The sensor above his door switched from lock mode to exit, automatically sliding open to reveal 10 guards reserved only for him, equipped with tranquilizer guns if he even got the slightest hint of doing anything. A scowl came to his lips; he hated the humiliation of being led through the corridors of Shinra's labs. Thankfully when it came to working with Shinra's SOLDIERS, they would unshackle him just before he entered the training faculty. He would truly rather die than for the men to know he wasn't just the Great Sephiroth, but just their prized lab rat.
He lifted his head higher, green, Mako orbs glaring menacingly and unmercifully at the men around him. Many had to drop their eyes or look away, so strong was his gaze. It gave him a small sense of satisfaction. He enjoyed it, instilling fear into them. His very aura radiated loathing and they could feel it. After they surrounded him, the walk began to Hojo's lab.
"He truly is the greatest specimen I have ever created. His perfection, his resolve, his strength, his cunning, his arrogance," Hojo smiled to himself, arranging his instruments on the table,
"And yet he still amazes me." He paused, a thoughtful expression on his otherwise sneering face.
"What do you mean, Professor," Terri, his female lab assistant queried strolling over to the computer's holographic screen.
"I have done everything I could to break his will and yet he does not crumble. Instead he stills goes out of his way to defy and antagonize me. It truly is a marvelous thing, but it puzzles me. I spent many a long night trying to fully comprehend my perfect creation, yet I still can not understand his inner workings, what drives him. What are the thoughts that filter through his vast mind..."
"None that you will ever know," a low, just as equally cold voice replied. Sephiroth stood in the doorway, his multiple guards situated about him. Hojo grinned deliriously. How he loved his mornings when it came to enhancing or discovering more about his favorite specimen.
"Charming as ever Sephiroth. Please take a seat and stay a while," Hojo chuckled as Sephiroth stiffly strolled over to his place of "honor" as Hojo had termed it. To Sephiroth it was second to only the other instrument, the lab table, of torture that truly terrified him. Being bond and unable to move, at the mercy of unfeeling hearts and hands, was enough to horrify any sane person. It was all Sephiroth could do to keep his face free of emotion, a cool mask of indifference.
"What is in store for me today? Slitting of my jugular vein to see if I will bleed to death or survive another day," Sephiroth said dryly as he removed his trench coat. He hated removing it, exposing himself to the madman.
"My, my, someone is in a disagreeable mood this morning," Hojo grunted, pulling long, white gloves over his scrawny fingers.
"Nothing of the sort, my dear experiment," Hojo continued, grinning malevolently down as Sephiroth's limbs were securely strapped in place by metal cuffs attached to the seat.
"I am not your 'dear experiment,'" Sephiroth growled between clenched teeth.
"Oh that's right, I forgot," Hojo purred, his voice deathly calm and sweet, staring long into Sephiroth's enraged orbs.
"You are a monster."
The words cut Sephiroth deeper than any needle or knife inflicted on his body; it went straight to his bleeding soul.
"I might be the monster, but you are the monster that created this one," he snarled all his pent up emotions bursting forth. Hojo's face began to twist into a hideous scowl, but Sephiroth wasn't finished.
"You are pathetic Hojo, but what's more, you're a pathetic excuse for a scientist. You aren't fit to be called a Professor of Science, for what you truly are is just a virus, a plague. You infect, harm, and destroy everything you come in contact with. I thought you were supposed to better mankind, not suck it dry in your lust for self-gratification and power. You can't even show your face amongst other scientists because of your barbaric practices. They would wipe you off the face of this planet if they knew what you truly were, a monster," Sephiroth fairly shouted the last two words, his face millimeters from Hojo's, body resisting viciously against his bonds.
There was a collective gasp from the everyone in the room from the lab assistants clutching their items in utter horror to the soldiers and their mako eyes widening slightly in shock. Never before had such an outburst exploded from the pale, silver-haired man seated now. Hojo's face contorted into utter rage and humiliation from the onslaught of words. His eyes narrowed to slits and his thin lips snarled down in utter disgust. Again another shock riveted the people observing this bizarre drama.
Hojo raised his hand and brought the back of it across Sephiroth's exposed face hard. Sephiroth felt stunned, as if tiny needles were stabbing themselves in his sensitive flesh from Hojo's retaliation. Before he knew what was happening, the glove that hide the monstrosity on his hand was violently yanked off and the branding exposed in light of everyone's penetrating eyes. He could feel his heart pulse wildly, desperately wishing he could do something to remove it from their offending gazes. His only defense, face Hojo head on without a trace of fear or repentance. He would never take back what he said.
"You will never perform that horrendous, repulsive display again," he hissed venomously, grabbing the hand and digging his nails into the scarred digits and letters. It was all Sephiroth could do not to scream out in agony by the physical and mental implications this was causing him. His muscles tensed beyond their usual capacity and his nerves felt as though a fire seared them. Hojo's eyes bored into Sephiroth's, hate and anger swirling in their midst.
"I am the greatest scientist that has ever existed on this planet! I am a man of immense vision, power, and intelligence! No one has right to even suggest otherwise, most of all you! You are NOTHING but a single display of my vast intellect exhibited in one specimen. You are the pathetic excuse of a man for you have nothing. No purpose save for the one I provide you with. No life except for the one I give you! No hope, no destiny, no future, but these walls and experiments that I run! You are mine! I control you! I give you the necessity to live; without me you would cease to exist!" He screamed, his voice crazed and enraged, not wanting to even recall the words Sephiroth had uttered. Suddenly he withdrew, releasing the marred hand.
Sephiroth's whole body quivered now uncontrollably. Everything seemed to have stopped and a million feelings and thoughts bombarded his tortured consciousness. How he longed to escape this hell on earth. Anger, loathing, vengeance, despair, defiance, terror, resentment, and pain well up in him, assaulting his senses while he tried to mentally block the words Hojo had screamed, no matter how true. His heart constricted and every breath felt like a labored intake. He refused to believe them, to be controlled and manipulated by them. Yet they continued to reverberate through his entire being, attacking viciously any spot he where he was weak. Hojo's voice broke his mental and emotional anguish, returning him back to the moment, which he accepted with a very begrudging thankfulness.
"The problem with creating a perfect specimen is that they know they are perfect, which indefinitely leads to the highest levels of arrogance," Hojo stated calmly, moving beside a flabbergast Terri.
"My specimen has taken to the notion that others who are vastly smarter than him are actually beneath him, equating them with a sickness. Naive boy. Well today is the perfect day I teach him the difference. Also so fitting, for I had chosen to inject him with a virus. I was curious how his body, enhanced as it, could fight it off. Maybe this is just the antidote to help him distinguish between great men of science and loathing viruses since he seems to be so confused on the subject," Hojo smiled acidly, slipping a pair of gloves over his cold, calloused fingers.
Sephiroth could feel sweat gathering on his body as the lab assistants prepared his injection. Nothing hurt more physically than the probing of a needle, filled with toxic, pain-ridden substance to riddle one's body useless and in misery.
Sephiroth steeled himself for the inevitable, his eyes blazing with intense fury and the utter helplessness of his predicament. He followed the madman's fingers as he gave the needle a couple taps, his evil orbs glinting unnaturally.
Sephiroth didn't want this. He was tired of his body being used, his mind being analyzed. Suddenly from the deep recesses of his mind, that hadn't been touched by his all consuming fear and feelings of utter powerlessness, a single thought began to manifest itself. It had always been there, locked away for fear of being released and what terrible and mighty thing would come of it. Yet today it pushed force in a fury unlike any other.
'I am done. I have had enough. I no longer want to be a prisoner! I will no longer be a prisoner! I am no longer a PRISONER!' The thought startled him at first, even terrified him, yet the fear that had been once a constant part of him dissolved away. A strength flooded his tortured soul. In that moment he knew something. He no longer had to live like this, endure constant pain. He could be free. He would be free. No, he is free. A slave of others no more.
Hojo had just looked up from his work to blanch in horror as he met Sephiroth's gleaming eyes. And they were no longer afraid.