Vincent….
Vincent Valentine…
There's no point in ignoring me.
…I'll always be here as a reminder of past sins.
Sleep won't save you…
Vincent tossed and turned amidst rotting crimson cushions, the confining mahogany of the coffin, creaking in protest.
Chaos' seducing promises and mind shattering threats made atonement difficult at best; rolling onto his back Vincent raised his claw. The brass glistened even in the morbid gloom and Vincent's eyes followed the curves of the metal, up to the deadly thorn like claws.
Raising the prosthetic further Vincent dug the sharpened fingers into the wood and gently slid the coffin lid to the floor. Sitting up in the chill dank air the ex-Turk raised a shaking hand of flesh to wipe away the beads of sweat.
Smoothing his unruly hair Vincent then put both hands on the edges of sanctuary and torture, and lifted sore and aching limbs into the small and chill chamber. Picking his cloak off the floor Vincent draped it around his shoulder in one fluid motion and buckled the cloak with practiced ease.
Carefully tiptoeing his way around the rotting remains of his coffins lesser brethren Vincent reached the door and opened it, revealing the vast maze of tunnels under the Shinra Manor. Walking through the caverns Vincent laid his hand over the slight lump in his chest, where the proto-materia lay pulsing, in place of his heart.
Shaking his head and dropping the wandering hand Vincent made his way to a spiralling staircase.
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The little town in the mountains was the same foreboding village he remembered, not a soul was to be seen in the early morning streets. No dogs barked, no drunk ambled and the natural sounds of the mountains were either muted or dead. The only sound Vincent could hear was his own light breathing and the slight shifts in the air as it circulated through the ranges.
Grey and non-descript housing flew past Vincent as his long strides soon carried him out of the grey town and into the shore of shale that marked the beginning of the long climb ahead.
Picking a rarely used and derelict path Vincent strode nimbly up the sharp angle and kept his footing even as the rocks slid down the trail.
Some minutes later the gunman was sitting on the edge of a vast cliff with leather clad legs dangling over the vast drop. Inhaling he sighed and the thumping headache in his head began to subside, closing his eyes to the chill wind blowing into his face Vincent enjoyed the lacy soft ice cooling his burning cheeks.
A low growl smashed the relative peace of the moment and he turned to observe a pack of grey wolves slowly prowling towards him. Turning back to the sun rising over the horizon Vincent carefully slid his hand onto the handle of Cerberus and waited with baited breath.
Pain suddenly lanced through him and the skin around the materia in his chest burned and sizzled, Chaos' wings bursting forth from his back, his arms and legs contorting into Chaos' form, small black scales pushing themselves up from under his skin and lastly his hair rising into the crown of thorns.
Blood dripped from the membranes of Chaos' wings and fell slowly to the frosty stone beneath; Chaos grinned manically and started to swing his legs back and forth against the cliff. The pack of the wolves growled louder, spreading themselves in a circle around the demon. Chaos then whipped his head around and the demon's mirthful golden eyes glowed eerily in the backdrop of the misty mountains.
The first two wolves pounced and chaos turned back to the view and grabbed both wolves out of the air in mid pounce, his long deadly claws embedding themselves into the chests of the canines. Before either wolf could utter a whimper Chaos smashed them simultaneously against the face of the cliff.
The rest of the pack took a step back, their lips curling up to reveal even more yellowed and sharp teeth. Dropping off the cliff Chaos unfurled his wings and used the updrafts of wind to lift him above the pack, seeing this the wolves started to back together, all eyes fixed fast on the deadly predator above.
Stretching out him arms the demon interlaced his fingers and worked out the kinks in his shoulders and arms, and with a smug smile, started his massacre.
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Head spinning Vincent struggled to sit up, and instead, gave up opted for the easier task of waiting for his blurred vision to clear. Red, the deep colour covered the stone and sniffing he noticed the metallic tang covering himself and the plateau.
The morbid curiosity and dread in Vincent made him push himself off the ground and face the carnage. If Vincent didn't have a heightened sense of smell and didn't know before hand, he wouldn't of known that the fleshy pieces of pulp littering the ground were wolves.
Working with the Turks for as long as he did had desensitised him, and seeing the carnage didn't make his stomach flip and he felt no need to retch. However, his brow knotted, what if it had been a group of people? Hadn't he murdered enough innocents already?
Rising Vincent was unsteady on his feet but managed to make his way back down to the decayed trail, the sun now set high in the sky took the chill and mist out of the air.
Vincent while walking looked down to see blood covering him from head to toe, and parting the straps covering his chest Vincent looked at the part of his body that sent streams of pain cascading through his body. The materia had lost its comforting warm glow and was instead replaced by a faint emanating light escaping the sphere. Swearing under his breath Vincent crept through Nibleheim's small houses, wafts of smoke coming from the chimneys of all but some houses, and without being noticed, crept towards Shinra manor.
Pushing the large rusted gates open Vincent walked past the weathered old fountain that no longer poured forth the crystal water as it did over 30 years ago, past the long dead rose bushes and up the small set of stairs leading to the large wooden doors.
Opening them without thought Vincent walked inside and up the weather and time damaged grand staircase and to the only working bathroom in the house. Down the right corridor and to the fourth door Vincent opened the door and walked in.
Vincent was careful to avoid the shards of the mirror lying on the dusty floor and discarded himself of his garments; leaving them on the floor Vincent stepped into the bath and turned the gold taps to the overhead shower to unleash a cold torrent of water to flow onto his head.
Looking down at his hands he saw congealed deep red, almost black blood staining his human hand and claw.
With disgust and aggravation Vincent started to scrub his cold monstrous arm, the dried blood flaking off to be washed down the plughole, with that for the most part done, Vincent started on his human hard scrubbing at it, only to slip and slash the top of his hand with one of the razor fingertips.
Snorting his nose with irritation Vincent continued to cleanse himself and stopped at the inflamed and bleeding skin that surrounded the blue piece of lifestream. Lip curling at the sight Vincent's anger bubbled and composure broken Vincent slammed his mechanical arm into the wall tiles.
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Scrubbing the bar Tifa sighed.
Cloud had been gone on a long delivery for over a week now and her life was now a normal one, of looking after kids and tending to her bar Seventh Heaven, the most exciting thing now was a drunken fight in the bar, the occurrences of which were rare.
The regulars knew that to start a fight was to end up sprawled on the sidewalk with a splitting headache and a black eye.
Tifa however had enough time to keep in touch with everyone, visiting them on the odd occasion, well all except for one.
The recluse of the group, the mysterious man Vincent Valentine, was the only one she hadn't heard from since the Deep Ground incident. She presumed he was fine, he was a powerful ex-Turk after all and she knew was very capable of looking after himself.
Or so her rational side and friends told her. She couldn't not worry about the man, her motherly side wouldn't allow it and as much as the others didn't quite get along with the anti-social man she had developed a soft spot for him, for reasons unknown even to herself.
Dwelling on these thoughts Tifa stopped scrubbing the bar and bit her thumbnail, casting a glance to the stairs leading to the phone upstairs. There was no reason not to visit him, after all Barrett could look after Marlene and Denzel for a few days and she could get a lift from Cid.
She was sure the foul mouthed pilot would also like to see Cid seeing how they both got on relatively well during their time travelling to save the world. Perhaps she could attribute it to the fact that both men were fairly antisocial and lacked the skills to ever be social.
Nodding to herself Tifa stopped chewing on her nail and made her way to the stairs and to make the calls required. Walking over to the table she glanced at their group photo, her eyes shifting over to look at Cloud.
Cloud…
She hadn't even considered calling him to say she was going to be visiting Vincent; she had no idea when he would be back so she presumed she would have to.
Sighing she picked up the phone and cradled it between her ear and shoulder while she dialled Barrett's number.
"Hey Barrett, it's me Tifa."
"Yo how's it going Tif', wacha need?
"If you could Barrett, would you mind looking after the kids for a few days?"
"Shit no problem Tifa, it's about time I got up there to see my girl again I'll be there by the day after tomorrow!"
"Thanks Barrett, see you then."
With that she pressed the button for the receiver and dialled Cid's number.
Tifa started to fiddle with the curled phone line, twisting calloused but elegant fingers between the loops of the cord while waiting for Cid to pick up.
When the phone was finally answered she was greeted with a string of profanities.
"Who the fuck is phoning me now. Fuck it's always when I'm working my god damned ass off!"
Fighting back a smile Tifa fidgeted and repositioned the phone in the crook it was in.
"Sorry Cid, but if you're not too busy could you give me a lift to Nibleheim?"
"Going to visit old vampy eh? Well fine then I'll give you a lift. I'm not as busy as I sound, in fact I'm bored to titty-fuck here."
"Why am I not surprised? Thanks Cid, bye."
Pushing the receiver gently for the last time, Tifa took a deep breath and dialled Cloud's number.
This is Cloud. Leave a message, and I'll try to get back to you.
Frowning Tifa took the phone in her hand and left her message:
" Hey Cloud its Tifa, I'm going to be out for a few days, so I'll see you later."
With that Tifa put down the phone for the last time and walked up stairs to her room to pack. In a few days time she was going to head off to see Vincent, and she wouldn't have to worry anymore, for a while at least.
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AN: Thanks for reading the first chapter of the story. I hope you enjoyed it and please leave a review. Extra luffles go out to those who leave constructive criticism.
For example tell me if you think I skipped around too much such as leaving the wolf massacre and going straight to Vincent without describing it? D:
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters/worlds etc that I write about in this story and they are property of their respective owners.