Just a thought I had. :) I hope you like it. :) Please leave a review. :)
Note: Final Fantasy Vll uses the term [ ν ] - εуλ, which means 'era', to correctly date it's years. I had to Google it. ^^
*Update* I got the timeline messed up. . The experiment happened when she was twenty-five, not twenty. It's fixed now. :)
Chapter 1: Answer
It was 1984. I can't remember the exact month or day it happened, all those years ago, but I could never forget that year. I was a secretary for Professor Hojo of the Science Department; a young secretary who had just gotten out of college and hadn't really been exposed to the cruel world yet. That day, however, I found out just how unfair and cruel this world really was.
I was at my desk, taking calls and writing down messages. It was the same thing over and over: Pick up the phone. Utter the same boring words into the receiver, "ShinRa Science Department, how can I help you?" Take notes. Then repeat the process until my brain was mush from all the meetings and business trips I had to plan.
That's when it happened. The door slammed open and a Turk walked in, his fists clenched tightly, a look of rage scarring his face as he stormed over to me. The man was very attractive, it'd be a sin to lie about that, but the way he shook with a seething hatred made me reach under my desk for the security button, my finger hovered over it if he felt the need to empty the large gun he had into my body.
"Hojo," He said through gritted teeth, "Where is he?"
I swallowed, pointing to the door to his office nervously. I was too scared to lie to him, for fear of becoming the target of his anger. He nodded and muttered thanks before walking to the door, pushing it open and slamming it shut. I stood up, hastily taking the tazzer my mother had gotten me out of my purse and holding it tightly in my hands, my finger on the trigger. If that guy was going to go crazy, I at least wanted to have a fighting chance.
Voices in the other room started to rise into a shouting match, making the air around me tense and uncomfortable. The shouting continued for a few minutes until a loud gunshot ripped through the air. I jumped and felt my heart start to race. Tears began to stream down my face, a fear bubbling up in my stomach and pouring out my eyes. Had the Turk gone crazy? Did he kill the Professor? Was he going to kill me next?
Just as I was going to the door to get help, a woman ran into the room. I don't remember her features clearly, but I remember she was very pretty. I had never seen her before, but from the lab coat she wore, I guessed she was a doctor. She ran over to me and placed her hands on my shoulders. "Did a Turk walk in here? Please, it's very important!"
I nodded quickly and turned to the door where the shot resounded. "I-I heard gunshots," I stuttered, "Th-that man went in there!"
She looked over at the door, fear and despair marring her pretty face. "No, no…" She ran and grabbed the handles, "No, no, no! Vincent, stop!"
"I-it's too dangerous!" I said, running after her as she opened the door and stepped inside. I struggled to remember self-defense, but all thoughts were pushed away when I saw the Turk laying on the floor, a pool of blood beginning to surround him. I screamed, dropping my tazzer and covering my mouth to stop my lunch from coming up my throat. Hojo stood above him, a gun in his hand, laughing madly. I couldn't look away from the body. The woman frowned, "W-what is this…?" with a stronger voice, she added, "Hojo…What have you done?!"
The scientist continued to laugh, "Hehehehe what's this? A witness?"
I began to back up, sensing what he was thinking. Apparently, the woman saw it too, and started to speak urgently. "Hojo, please, she didn't see anything…"
"Hehehehe, no matter," He said, grinning sickly, "she's seen it now, hasn't she?"
He lifted the gun. I didn't feel the pain until after the bullets tore through my skin, my organs and back, not until after the impact sent me flying into the door, my body sinking down and hitting the floor. Then I felt it. I screamed, pain ripping through me over an over, like a trapped fire within a closed room. The room darkened, blood coming up my throat and out my mouth, air leaving my lungs, darkness filling my vision…
I screamed, sitting up in bed and grabbing my gun. My mind reeled, trying to remember what year it was. I racked my brain, panic building up in my chest, making it grow tight. Then I remembered. It was 0012. I gasped, taking a large breath of air to calm myself. Despite my air conditioner being on, I was cover in a layer of sweat, the kind you get when you wake up from bad nightmares.
I set my gun down as my eyes adjusted to the darkness of my living room. Thinking back, I realized I must have fell asleep on the couch after getting fired from work. I reached over and turned on a lamp, watching the dark fade away, like snow turning into water. I got up and walked to the small kitchen, stopping when I reached the fridge. I could see my reflection in the dark metal, and I looked at the dark circles under my eyes, my collarbone sticking out from the nights I've forgotten to eat, until my eyes trailed to the area that my tank top showed of my chest. There was a scar, in the middle of my rib cage, and it painfully reminded me of the two other identical scars on my midriff. The memory of that day began to resurface and I pushed it away, opening the fridge door and grabbing a beer. My clock read four in the morning, but I didn't care; hell, at least I was having one beer and not a pack of cigarettes.
I wasn't going to start looking for a new job until later on, so I sat down on the couch and turned on the TV, flicking through the channels. It seemed the only things on this early were infomercials, dirty movies, and the early morning news. I finally settled on the news and put the remote down, opening my beer and placing the top at my lips, taking a sip.
On TV, the female reporting was talking about the Deepground incident that had gone down two years ago. Even now, it was the hottest topic. "It has been officially confirmed that ShinRa once played a part in the horrific experiments preformed underground-"
"Idiots," I muttered against the opening of the bottle. After all these years, the people were just now putting the pieces of this screwed up puzzle together, even though there were obvious signs that some of the pieces just didn't fit quite right.
"All of the Deepground soldiers have been eliminated by the WRO, and victims or kidnapping are returning safely to their homes." The reporter glanced down at the papers in her hand, "The WRO is looking for anyone who has been experimented on by the ShinRa Company and is alive and well. WRO president Reeve Tuesti has promised help to anyone affected by the corrupted company, and is currently offering jobs to said persons."
"What?" I frowned, lowering the beer bottle. Why would the World Regenesis Organization want anything to do with ShinRa victims? Questions burned at the back of my throat, and I stared at the phone lying on the coffee table. My eyes flickered from the phone to the phone number on the screen. The news woman said the WRO's lines were always open, and besides, maybe I wouldn't be thrown out into the street by my landlord if I got a job there. Surely they wouldn't ask for details about my experience with ShinRa, I mean, that was personal information, right?
I picked up my phone and dialed the number. Placing the cell to my ear, I held my breath as the phone ringed. Finally, I heard a female's voice on the other line.
"Hello, this is the World Regenesis Organization help line. What can I do for you?"
I sat up, "Yes, I saw a thing on the news about help for ShinRa victims…"
"Yes, we offer all the help we can to those whose fallen victim to their experiments."
"Yeah, that's why I'm calling," I said, "I've been, um…suffering for a couple of years now."
"Can you describe the experiment? This will help us connect you to the right rehabilitation program."
I hesitated, the memories flooding back. "…I'd rather not."
"I see," The woman said, "In that case, can you give me the date of your experiment?"
"Well…" I cringed as I said, "…It was, ah, 1984."
There was silence. I bit my lip, waiting for a response. Then she spoke. "How old are you?"
"It happened when I was twenty-five," I winced, "I was born in 1959."
I heard a slight gasp and muffled speaking, like she was speaking to someone else. "Hello?" The line went dead. I blinked, "Hello..?" Seeing that I'd been hung up on, I sat back and tried to let what had just happen sink in. I called the WRO for help, told them my age, and then they hung up on me. Frowning I took another sip. Hopefully they didn't think I was crazy or some prank caller. ShinRa has done some pretty gruesome things, so I didn't think they'd take it like that. I don't even fully know what they did to me all those years, but this was my only chance to find out and try to fix it. I took another sip of beer and set it down on the coffee table, covering my mouth as I yawned and grabbed the remote, flicking through channels.
I must have fallen asleep again, because when I opened my eyes the clock said six thirty. My phone was ringing, and must have been the reason I had been awakened. Yawning, I reach over and grabbed it, pressing the call button and putting it up to my ear.
"Hello?" I asked, taking a swig of the alcoholic beverage.
"Hello, this is Reeve Tuesti of the WRO. May I ask who this is?"
I started to choke on the beer and spit it out, unable to respond. What the hell was this?
Mr. Tuesti's voice sounded confused. "Is anyone there?"
I coughed, "Y-yeah, this is Lila Crossway. Can I help you?"
"Ah, yes. I believe you called earlier about our rehabilitation program. I need to ask you a few things."
"Um, go ahead, I guess," I stood and went to the kitchen to make some breakfast. As I was grabbing the milk, he stared asking questions.
"First, can you confirm your age?"
I picked up a spoon and a bowl, balancing the phone between my cheek and shoulder. "Yes. I have my birth certificate somewhere in my bedroom."
"Good. Can you tell me what happened on the day of your incident?"
"I was working," I explained slowly, as to keep the flow of memories at bay, "Some guy'd been shot in the room next to me and I went in to look. The killer must have thought I saw him do it, because he shot me. I guess you could say I woke up a different person."
"Did you know the person who shot you?"
"He was my employer; I worked for ShinRa as a secretary." I didn't want to say it, his name, but I knew it was the only way to find answers. Shakily I said, "Professor Hojo was the one who shot that man, and I'm certain he was the one who did this to me."
There was silence on the other end. I waited, taking a bite of breakfast as I waited. Finally, he spoke. "I see. Don't worry, Professor Hojo has preformed experiments on many people, and thankfully he is dead now. You told our help line that this happened in 1894, correct?"
"…Yes."
"Do you know the name of the man who was shot before you?"
I didn't really see how that had anything to do with the situation, but I answered, "Um, I think the professor's assistant said it was something with a V…Vaan…? What was it….Vernon? No…" I scratched my head, trying to remember what that woman had called him. "Veld…? That's not it…"
"Did it start with a Vin?"
"Vincent!" I snapped my fingers, proud to have remembered. "His name was Vincent."
"…I have someone who may know you. We'll need to meet in person, if you don't mind. What's your address?"
Blinking, I told him my address and took another bite of cereal. "Um, okay. When-"
"I will send someone to pick you up. Be ready around two o'clock."
"No problem. See you then."
I hung up and ate the rest of my cereal, setting the now dirty dishes in the sink. Walking out of the kitchen, I walked the short distance to my bedroom and pulled out some skinny jeans from my drawer. It was the getting colder outside every day, so I grabbed a dark long-sleeved shirt and pulled it over my head, pulling it into place. I put on the jeans and grabbed some socks, picking up my boots and sitting on the bed to tug on both. I vaguely wondered if any running would be necessary, considering three-inch heels weren't that comfortable to move very quickly in, as I zipped up the knee-high boots and stood. I picked up my make-up bag and heading to the bathroom.
It was strange, what that scientist did to me. I live for a few years until something happens- last time I drowned -and then I'll go into a sort of death-like state. Like my body dies, but I don't. I wake up and suddenly I'm literally a different person, living a new life. In every life my appearance would change, sometimes a little, sometimes a lot. I've had black hair, blonde hair, brown hair, you name it.
Currently, I was in the middle of my twelfth life, living alone in a crappy apartment in Edge. I had still retained the auburn-red hair I had in my earlier life, but my eyes were green this time, not blue. I sighed as I opened the back and began applying black eye-liner. To be honest, I was sick of living and dying, and then repeating the process. It was painful to die, and painful to get attached to people, only to watch them die or die and then come back, and they don't know who you are. Suicide was obviously a waste of time- my third life ended that theory. Suffering was the worst; bleeding out, getting tortured, etc. I hated it, and that was why I wanted to find answers, to see if there was a chance I could just finally end my life for good. After living for this long, death no longer brought me fear, only comfort.
I put on mascara and was brushing my hair when I heard someone knock on the door. Glancing at the clock near my bed, I frowned. It was only eight forty-five, who would knock on my door now? For safety measures, I made sure my gun was in its holster on my hip and went to the door, peeking through the peep-hole. There was a tall man with spiked blonde hair and blue eyes, and a tall sword on his back.
I kept the chain locked into place, but opened the door just a little, enough to see him fully. "Who are you?" I asked.
The man seemed surprised to see me. "My name is Cloud. Reeve sent me to get a woman named," He glanced down at a piece of paper. "Lily Crossway. Is she your grandmother?"
If this were an anime, I'm sure a vein would've appeared on my forehead. I cleared my throat and put a hand on my hip. "It's Lila. And I don't look a day over twenty, thank you."
Cloud raised his eyebrows and a look of realization crossed his face. "Sorry-"
"Its fine," I waved the comment away and unlocked the door chain, opening it wider. "Come on in."
He was hesitant, but walked past me into the living room. Cloud looked around; no doubt looking at the only ten pictures I had hanging on the walls, his gaze moving over each slowly. "Are these your friends?" He asked, gesturing to them.
"No." Was my only response, as I didn't want to explain to it to him. He seemed to understand and said nothing more, his gaze landing on my half empty beer bottle, where it stayed for a moment before looking at me.
"You want something to drink?" I asked, "I can make coffee."
He shook his head, looking back to the pictures. I could tell there were questions burning in his mind, probably along the lines of 'Why does this woman have pictures of ten girls in her living room?', so I pointed to the first one and said, "That's what I used to look like."
The first picture of me showed me standing with my mother in front of the ShinRa building during its last stage of construction. It'd been faded and yellowed around the edges from old age. We were both smiling, looking just a like with black hair and blue eyes.
"You look happy." Cloud commented.
I nodded, "I was, back then."
Cloud looked at the other pictures, but didn't ask about them, having already figured out that they were all of me. He turned to me. "Reeve sent me early to because he had a meeting at two thirty."
"I just need to get my coat and I'll be ready to go." I walked into my bedroom, grabbed my white eider jacket and put it on, zipping it up. I also took my birth certificate if they didn't believe my age. I made sure my gun was loaded- I wasn't going anywhere without that -and met up with Cloud in the living room.
He was reading the dates at the bottom of each picture now. I watched the emotions change in his face. It was a slight change, but I still saw it; confusion, disbelief, then his face turned into one of understanding once he saw the eighth picture. I was wearing a sleeve-less dress in that one, and my scar was visible. He continued to read the dates until he reached the last photo, which was dated [ ν ] - εуλ 0007. I was never able to take a picture of me in my eleventh life, thankfully, and I hadn't had time to take one in this life yet.
I cleared my throat and he looked over at me. "I'm ready to go when you are."
He nodded and began heading for the door. I followed him out and closed my door, locking it and putting the key in my pocket. As we walked side by side down the hallway, I looked over at him. He was pretty attractive, and didn't seem older than twenty-five. From the way the subzero temperature didn't seem to affect him, I guessed those sky blue eyes of his weren't natural.
He was definitely the silent type, not saying a word as we headed down the flight of stairs leading to the second level. I always had a thing for silent men. "So," I said, trying to start a conversation, "How old are you, anyway?"
He looked over at me and, with a straight face, said, "Young enough to be your grandson."
I punched him in the shoulder. "I'm not that old!"
Cloud said nothing, just kept walking. I crossed my arms and we continued on in silence down the stairs until we reached the apartment parking lot. I looked around for a car, but Cloud walked over to a motorcycle. I instantly stopped in my tracks. "I'm not riding that thing."
"As long as you hold on, you're safe," He said, sitting in the seat.
"I'd rather walk," I said shaking my head, "The last time I was on a motorcycle, I crashed into a ditch and snapped my neck. Not fun."
Cloud frowned at my statement but didn't comment. Instead, he replied, "This isn't the safest part of town. You'd have a better chance riding with me." I could tell he was serious about this, and hid a smile. So this one was the heroic guy, eh? Protecting women and children? How flattering.
I considered my options: I was well-trained with a gun, but so were most of the thugs in this neighborhood. Not very eager to get felt up in an alley by some weird pervert, I reluctantly walked over to the bike and got on behind Cloud.
"I need a helmet, at least." I argued. Cloud raised an eyebrow. "Snapped neck, remember? I want to have a fighting chance."
"Here," He said, handing me a black helmet. While I pulled it on and adjusted the straps, I noticed Cloud put on a simple pair of sunglasses. I also noticed a scar right at the end of his brow, as if he'd been hit with a rock or something; probably from not wearing a helmet.
I wrapped my arms around his waist and held on tight as he started it up and took off, heading out of the parking lot and into the open street. Cloud went so fast I had to cling to him for dear life for fear of falling off and getting splattered against the concrete.
This man was leading me to the person who could answer my questions. Part of me didn't want to know why or how this happened to me, but a stronger part of me was determined to find out, and that determination made me hold on as tight as I could.
My life was going to change for the better.
