Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or settings of Final Fantasy VII, they are the sole creative property of SquareEnix, nor do I make a profit from this endeavor. However, I will gain carpal tunnel syndrome eventually and I do take ownership my insanity and perversity.
Title: A Haunting in Midgar
Warnings: language, au, implied yaoi, occ-ness, etc. All the goodness of Reno, with extra yo's!
Rating: T for Terror
Pairings: implied couple
Summary: "If anyone is here, please give us a sign of your presence."
A Haunting in Midgar
It started out so subtlety that no one would ever notice. A strange knocking sound here, a door opening on its own there were all easy to ignore. The unexplained voices were waved away as figments of the imagination. The shadowy figures seen out of the corner of the eyes was just that, his tired eyes playing tricks on him. Even the classic poltergeist like activity of having objects levitate and move on their own was waved away as alcohol induced hallucinations.
What Reno of the Turks could not ignore was having his ass slapped, hard.
The quirky yet volatile redhead was alone in his two bedroom apartment at the time. To be exact, he had just stepped out of a steamy shower, a fluffy white towel in his hands vigorously rubbing his long hair. It happened so fast that it took a moment for the quick witted male to realize it.
A tingling sound of laughter immediately followed the slap he felt on his posterior. Using an edge of the towel, he wiped away the steamy film on the mirror and in the clear reflection turned slightly sideways to get a good look at his backside.
Instead of the continuously creamy smooth flesh, a bright angry red handprint was wrapped around the pert roundness of his right glut. With gooseflesh and the hair sticking up on his arms, like he was electrically charged he quickly backed out of the room. His Mako-bright teal eyes widened in shock as everything fully registered in his brain.
The normally lethargic Turk moved at thrice his normal speed, haphazardly grabbing a pair of wrinkled dress pants and his white button shirt, foregoing underclothes. He slide his feet into some sandals before moving towards the front of his apartment.
"Aight, I… I just need ta calm down," Reno muttered to himself as he fumbled with his pack of emergency smokes he kept in a draw in the kitchen. "Ghosts ain't real. They're made up, just tricks ah tha mind, like at that hotel," he mumbled, trying to calm his racing heart.
"C'mon yo," he mumbled, the cig laying limp from his lips as he tried in vain to get his lighter to flick to life. "Thanks yo," he sighed as a flame appeared before his face. He closed his eyes and he took that first full drag of nicotine, enjoying the almost instantaneous feeling of calm and serenity that washed over him.
It was while Reno was letting out the slow exhale of smoke that he noted that he didn't light his smoke with the now forgotten lighter on the counter. Reluctantly, he forced his eyes to open and wished he didn't.
During his time growing up in the slums of Midgar and throughout his long career in the Turks, Reno has come face to face with unimaginable horrors. Both real and lab created. He has faced down eco-terrorists, mad scientists, monsters that were the stuff of nightmares, psycho ex-SOLDIERS and Elena while PMSing. To say he could handle anything would be an understatement, but this before him was too much.
"No," he growled. "Fuck you, yo. That shit ain't happenin'," he gritted out while pointing with his right hand, the burning cigarette lodged between his index and middle finger. He aimed his words and finger at the floating lighter, the flame still shining bright in the early morning light that was filtering into the kitchen. The redhead's hands trembled slightly; the black-grey ashes from the cancer-stick falling like wayward snowflakes on his hand the only outward sign of his unease.
He wasn't sure if he really heard the words, but a voice echoed in his mind, clearly saying 'Get out!'
Reno didn't have to think twice, quickly grabbing his essentials before getting up and walking out of his apartment, for once in his tenure at ShinRa, heading to the office early.
Sometime later, on a hilltop overlooking Midgar-Edge…
"…and that's why SOLDIERs will always be better than Turks," Zack Fair's apparition staunchly stated as his muscular arms folded over his powerfully built chest. Even in the afterlife, Zack's physical being was a sight to behold.
"Zack," Cloud Strife sighed heavily as the gloved fingers of his right hand pinched the bridge of his nose. Standing at the spot that Zack gave his life to save Cloud's was a special place for the blonde, one where the bond between the two was strongest. Even though Zack's Buster Sword had been cleaned and moved to a place of honor in the Church, Cloud still came here.
"What," Zack pouted, knowing that he didn't really do as Cloud asked but how could he resist?
"I asked you to keep an eye out for him while I was gone, not haunt him," Cloud scolded, his big blue eyes narrowing. "Who's next? Tseng?"
Zack's ghostly figure gulped audible before beginning to fade out.
"Zack?"
"Ah… sorry about that Spiky," Zack's ghost called back, "I ah… gotta go to the lil ghosts room, yeah, ghosts room," the raven haired haunt beamed, proud that he was able to come up with an excuse to vanish into thin air.
Cloud shook his head in disbelief as he chuckled lightly.
"Even in the Lifestream, they're terrified of Tseng," he murmured as he moved back towards Fenrir.
"I'm not scared! Tseng just makes me nervous," Zack's voice whispered in Cloud's mind as the blonde openly laughed, taunting his ghostly friend as he drove back towards Edge; ready to fix another one of Zack's bright ideas.
A/N: Happy Halloween! Just something lighthearted and funny (I hope) to get in the spirit of the holiday!
Thank you to everyone who reads, favs, reviews, etc.
Personally, I doubt there is anything that would scare Reno… but having some paranormal activity would make him pause.