Well, in between stressing over my mock exams (physics is hell, seriously!) and 'revising', I somehow managed to be productive and carry on playing through FF7 (yay!) to get Vincent (yay again!). Then I started to wonder about him- I mean, he spent thirty years in a coffin having nightmares, and that's not exactly an everyday thing! So, inspired by this, and running on caffeine and my wonderful skill of procrastination, I came up with this. The title comes from Vincent's theme, which, in my honestly biased opinion, is great. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: If I owned Vincent, he wouldn't have been a secret character, he would have been compulsory. I mean, c'mon- Cait Sith is compulsory when Vincent isn't? That's just insulting!
Night'mare, definition: (1) oppressive or paralysing or terrifying or fantastically horrible dream or experience, (2) haunting fear or thing vaguely dreaded.
The Nightmare Begins.
Open your eyes, Vincent Valentine...
Vincent stirred at the sound of the unfamiliar voice, a harsh sound that grated his ears...
Open your eyes, Valentine!
Darkness was all around him...silence...he didn't understand what had happened...didn't know what was going on...
Do it now!
Without really thinking, Vincent obeyed, slowly prising his eyes apart...only for them to fly wide open at the sight of fire- flames leaping twenty, thirty feet high in front of him, hissing viciously, spitting sparks at him.
A manical laugh rang all around him and he took an involuntary step back, reaching with his left hand for his gun, only to find...
Nothing.
Vincent looked up sharply as the voice which had ordered him before spoke again.
See? See how you are already under my control? Weak mortal, foolish human...
Another insane laugh made Vincent turn hurriedly to try to seek out this madman who was taunting him, only to find himself encircled by the fire. Trapped-
Wait.
Madman...
"Hojo." Vincent hissed, anger and hatred swelling inside him. Deep down, he knew it wasn't Hojo's voice, but somehow, it had to be linked...
Lucrecia, unconcious and not breathing. Himself, blinded by fury, love, pain, grief, running through the streets of Nibelheim, shouting at Hojo in the mansion basement. The crack of a gun. Pain, pushing past his ribs, exploding through his chest. Hojo's twisted grin as he fell...
Hojo? You mean Professor Hojo of the Shinra? Laughter. Now, now, don't be angry with him. After all, if it wasn't for him, we wouldn't have been able to meet, would we, Vincent?
"Who are you?" Vincent demanded roughly, wondering where the speaker was hiding, where his gun was...
You want your gun, do you? The voice had become mocking, sickeningly patronizing, almost as though the speaker was talking to a very small child. You would feel safer, would you? Very well, you misguided idiot...
Vincent glanced down at his right side to see his Quicksilver pistol holstered at his belt once more. Relief flooding through him now that defense would be possible, he looked back up for his target as he grabbed his gun with his left hand.
The pistol slipped from his clumsy grasp and clattered to the ground, the noise of its fall startling Vincent even more than the cackling.
You mean you haven't realised yet? Take a good look at yourself, Valentine.
Slowly, Vincent raised his left hand in front of his face, letting out a horrifyed yell at what he saw. A thick golden claw, a gauntlet, covered his left arm from just below his elbow right down to his fingertips. He grabbed it instinctively with his right hand and pulled at it as hard as he could, only to find the cold metal unrelenting- just as he froze at the sight, on closer inspection, of his flesh sinking into the end of it, where his flesh met the claw. Heart thudding ferociously in growing terror, he glanced around helplessly as words answered his unspoken questions.
Don't you like it? asked the taunting voice. It was a present from Hojo.
Hojo...
Vincent released his grip on his new arm, shaking in a blur of rage and fear and hatred. Hojo had done this to him. Hojo, who had taken Lucrecia from him, who had broken and used the woman he loved, had now taken away the one advantage Vincent had had left- his left arm. His stronger hand, the one he had used to shoot with, to write with...gone. And in it's place, this montrous and inhuman...thing...
Rather fitting then, isn't it?
Absorbed in his own depairing thoughts, Vincent very nearly missed that, but couldn't find understanding enough to comment. Instead, he found himself staring down at the changes he hadn't realised before. His gun arm, replaced by the claw. The dark blue suit that was the uniform of the TURKS, gone, and in its place a black outfit with a high-collared scarlet cloak. His hair seemed longer too, held mostly out of his eyes by what seemed to be a bandana.
Confusion, hate, fear, anger, pain...
"Who are you?" Vincent yelled again, blind to anything but the ring of flames.
Confusionhatefearangerpain...
"Show yourself!"
Show myself? the voice repeated mockingly. Very well, Valentine...if you insist...
Without warning, the flames blazed up brighter and fiercer than ever before- Vincent threw up his human arm to shield his eyes- but a second later, there was nothing except the darkness and a newly apparent track stretching out ahead of him.
Instinct taking over again, Vincent dropped down to seize up his gun with his unfamiliar right hand, flipping up and over back onto his feet, pointing the pistol ahead of him, scanning the blackness with the barrel.
Come find me then, Vincent... The voice was faintly amused, seeming almost like a cat toying with a mouse. Come find me...
Breathing hard and fast out of confused emotions, Vincent hestitated for a bare second before dropping his gun arm back down to his side and taking off down the track in front of him. He could barely see a metre in front of him- darkness stretching on all around him, even beyond the dirt pathway.
Blind...poor, wretched child... came the taunting, apprently from some point far infront of him. Stumbling blind...helpless...hopeless...foolish mortal...
"RRRRRGGGGAAAAAHHHH!"
Vincent skidded to a startled halt, whipping his pistol up, only to recoil in shock and horror at the...thing confronting him.
A large, horned beast, bulky muscles straining under thick purple skin...snarling, growling, bearing fangs and flashing claws as it whipped a spiked tail back and forth viciously...
Meet a new playmate, Vincent... the voice hissed maliciously. The Galian Beast.
The being roared again, arching his back and then hunching it again, glaring at him with feral eyes. Suddenly regaining control of his stunned mind, Vincent aimed and pulled the trigger once, twice, three times- but a combination of the beast's movements and the awkwardness of his weaker right hand meant that two of the bullets went wide whilst a third lightly grazed the thing's shoulder. Realising too late his mistake in enraging the beast further, Vincent cast a desperate glance behind him, only for terror to increase at what he saw.
There was no path behind him.
Switching his gaze back to the Galian Beast, which was now in an alarmingly close proximity, Vincent could see the pathway still carried on ahead. His mind suddenly kicked in to order his body to follow a half-formed plan that he hadn't even realised until he raised his right arm. Quickly, he pulled the trigger several times to launch a series of bullets aimed towards the beast's clawed feet. It roared and leapt backwards to avoid injury, giving Vincent the precious few moments he needed in order to rush past and head as fast as he could past it. the thing's angry snarls faded behind him as he carried on, swallowed by the void that Vincent was still racing into.
Now, that wasn't very nice, was it, Vincent? came the cruel voice once more. I hope you'll be nicer to your next new friend.
It was then that Vincent became aware of a dull thump, thump that beat almost in time with his heart, currently hammering against his ribs with nearly enough force to break them. He halted once more as a second shadow lumbered into view- something tall, wide, and very slow.
Meet Death Gigas, Vincent. Be polite now.
The thing was bulky and boulder-like, heaving unproportioned limbs behind it in clumsy movements. Its mouth gaped open as it stared blankly at him with small eyes, emitting vague grunts as it neared him. There were bandages around its head and bolts driven through its neck- a true Frankenstein's monster.
Vincent knew he couldn't afford to be trapped again. He'd wasted bullets on the Galian Beast, and all for nothing, when he realised that he needed to stay armed for when he finally found the thing that was enjoying torturing him so much. By the look of this thing called Death Gigas, bullets wouldn't succeed very well here either, but there was clear advantage he had that his mind suddenly presented to him in one word.
Speed.
Adrenaline pumping through his veins, Vincent forced his legs to work, propelling himself forward past the thing. He ducked a huge flailing fist shot out in his direction, dodged a strangely quick swipe from the other hand, and took off down the dirt track. However ironic it might have seemed to him now, had he not been so concentrated on finding the source of the voice, he was silently thankful for the strict years of TURK training for getting him out of possible harm.
How rude...your manners aren't very good, are they? The voice echoed around him, almost as though summoned by his thoughts. Still, I suppose that comes from your previous occupation. In any case, there's one last playmate who wishes to make your acquaintance...
The otherwise deafening silence was shattered then by the metallic growl of an engine being kicked into action. A shadow to Vincent's right suddenly lurched out that he barely managed to duck and roll away from it, managing to get past it even though some appalled sense of disgust at what stood there kept him seated on the ground.
It appeared to be a reject from some cheap horror movie, wearing ragged clothes over loose grey skin and an ice hockey mask over a face which Vincent was sure had just flipped right over. Thick clumps of greasy black hair straggled long and thick over its shoulders, flicking along with its erratic and sudden movements. The grating whirring was coming from the chainsaw it weilded, and Vincent narrowly dodged its few quick attempts to slice him, scrambling to his feet and away a few steps.
Say hello to Hellmasker, Vincent.
For a long moment, all Vincent could do was continue to stare as it hovered in one place and continued to flinch in weirdly uncontrolled motions. Then he realised that there was another noise, similar to that of the chainsaw- garbled words were coming from the things mouth, sentences being spat out at anyone nearby.
"He'scomehe'sherejustliketheysaid...andIknowIknowIknowhe'sscareddoesn'tknowwhereheis..."
Vincent managed to decipher few of the words, but knew that it was talking about him, although whether to him was something he didn't know. Not wanting to stay around to find out, he turned and ran, desperate to find the speaker, desperate for all this to end...
End?
Hellmasker's insane ramblings were fading into the backround- Vincent didn't know how far he'd run, certain that the only thing compelling him to carry on was adrenaline.
The dirt path had gradually become stone, and suddenly Vincent found himself racing up a spiralled staircase, tripping and scrambling up the broken steps in his haste. His stomach lurched as he nearly fell through a step that wasn't there, but something drove him on- uncertainty needing to be resolved, need for freedom from this place, wherever it was.
And then... the voice rasped. There's me...
Vincent froze.
The stairs had abruptly widened into a plaza, and as soon as Vincent set foot on it, an arc of flames, much higher and even fiercer than before, had instantly sprung up. Directly opposite him was an enormous pair of wrought iron gates, leading into what appeared to be the very pit of hell- behind it he could see the flashing eyes and clawing hands of the sources of the wrenching screams and wails filling his ears.
But it was what was infront of the gates that drew his attention.
A tall figure, perhaps a little above his own height, almost silhouetted by the fire. What little Vincent could make out of it appeared to be vaguely humanoid, and he took a step closer.
Hello, Vincent Valentine.
The voice was coming from the being in front of him.
"It's you." Vincent hissed, adjusting the tight grip he had on his Quicksilver.
A laugh. How incredibly perceptive of you. Although not very polite. Especially in the company of our dear guest here.
Vincent nearly questioned the meanbing of that, but the thing began to turn and he could finally see what it was that had tormented him for so long.
Its skin was pitch black and appeared to be of a leathery texture similar to that of the Galian Beast's. Vincent's eyes lingered over horns and fangs before being caught on the enormous wings it stretched out from where they had been folded behind its back. Red eyes, seeming to glow with the malice there, glared at him mockingly. And held within its muscular arms was...
"Lucrecia!" Vincent yelled, desperation flooding him. The woman was staring at him with wide, frightened eyes, seemingly unable to move within the grasp of the demon.
So that's her name, is it? Hojo always referred to her as the carrier of his latest specimen.
"Shut up!" Vincent yelled. "Let her go!"
Oh, but why would I want to do that? The demon cackled as it drew a clawed finger over Lucrecia's cheek, causing her to whimper slightly in pain. She's a rather pretty little thing, don't you think? What a shame you were too incompetent to save her...
That was all that was needed to tip Vincent over the edge. He brought up his gun, knowing that he only had one chance with his final bullet, and pointed it at the devil's skull.
"What the hell are you?" he spat, desperately trying to steady his aim through the trembles of rage washing through him.
What am I? Another laugh, but even more bloodchilling than any of the rest. What am I?
The demon took a step forward, hauling Lucrecia with him.
Hojo referred to me by the codename of Chaos...the bringer of destruction.
A second step, and then a third.
But the truth is...
A fourth step, and then a halt.
I am you.
And suddenly, Vincent wasn't facing a hellish demon, but a man...a man, dressed in black with a high-collared red cloak, with long hair held out of a pale face and cold, malicious red eyes.
Himself.
There was a shocked silence, and Vincent nearly dropped his gun before he remembered Lucrecia, lying there in the grasp of...this thing that had called itself Chaos.
"No." he whispered, before his voice rose to a shout. "No! This can't- none of this is real!"
Reality is only as real as our mind makes it, Vincent. The being, Chaos, smirked. The truth is, you failed this woman. You couldn't save her. You're as good as the one who killed her.
In the flickering light of the flames, Vincent saw a gold gauntlet claw flash towards Lucrecia's neck and cried out- but too late. Chaos let her slide from his grasp to her knees, where she swayed for a second, staring at Vincent with a flat, dead gaze before crumpling to the floor like a discarded doll. Blood from her torn throat slowly began to pool on the stone floor, staining her lab coat a dark red. Shaking, tears forming in his eyes at the sight of her body, Vincent looked back at the grinning demon in his form and tensed his finger on the trigger.
May as well turn that bullet on yourself, Valentine, because there's no escaping this. We're one and the same, you and me, and you have forever to get to know me...
Vincent's hand was shuddering violently now as he noticed his own golden gauntlet was covered with blood, mirroring that of the one in front of him. Lucrecia's blood...
"I'm asleep..." he whispered to himself. "I'll wake up any moment now..."
Fool...Chaos laughed. There is no waking up. If you don't wake up, you won't die... and we can all learn about your sins... I hope you enjoy your stay, Vincent... because you have no choice...
Moving in the shadows behind Chaos, he could make out three figures- the hunched and snarling form of the Galian Beast; the lumbering, clumsy Death Gigas; the darting and thrashing Hellmasker.
The animal, the monster, and the madman. And in front of him, grinning and so obviously evil...
Himself.
This is just the start, Vincent. This is where the nightmare begins...
Vincent collapsed to the ground and let oblivion swallow him.
Well, kinda long for a one-shot, but hopefully it was OK- I was considering chapters at one point just to try to break it up a little, but I think it works better as one complete piece. Believe me, it took long enough to write! The first time round, I'd nearly got it all written before the computer went and deleted it...grr...but at least it's done now. So, all that's left is for you to review and tell me what you think please! Dedication goes to ffmanic/Silvermoon and Revenge for beta-ing and encouraging me to finish it! Thanks very much for reading, and hopefully reviewing.