Well…there it was. Blood crept across the laboratory floor as Vincent Valentine lay dead, a massive hole through his chest that leaked the thick crimson liquid like to do so was going out of style.
The professor looked down at him, the smoking pistol held loosely in his hand as he raised his eyebrows at the corpse. He couldn't believe that the job was so easily executed, being completely honest…for such a foe to go down with simply one bullet was odd, especially compared to the invincible creatures that Hojo was so accustomed to being around. It was thrilling, the prospect of shooting someone right through the heart, but the only problem was that…
…he hadn't the slightest clue what to do next.
It was obvious that he couldn't leave the Turk there. However humorous it would be to see another scientist come in the next morning and step in a gracious puddle of festering wounds, but people would quickly know it was him. Murdering a Turk was like chopping off a bear's paw - the rest would come after you, jaws snapping. Hojo winced at the thought. That wouldn't be very fun.
The professor crouched before Vincent, distractedly poking a slender finger repeatedly into his still shoulder as he continued in his scenarios. He had to at least get him off of the ground so he wouldn't bleed completely out and create a bigger mess. The operating table was cleared off, though…it quickly came to mind, and the man decided that it would be an excellent place.
A few moments of preparation followed before he realized the next step. He grimaced as he took hold of Vincent's freezing wrist, lifting his arm from the ground with a flinch. It was completely disgusting, his clothes weighted down with dripping blood that inevitably smeared ALL OVER Hojo just by contact. His stomach reared in protest as he pulled on Vincent's limp arm with great effort. Never before had death things been so heavy, and he had to take a rest as his thin, gaunt muscles became pathetically sore.
A new approach was in order. Hojo once more took grasp of Vincent's arm, turning around and heaving the weight over his shoulder and grimacing as more festering blood-crust was revealed underneath the Turk's blood soaked stomach. He managed to move the carcass a foot or two, but the operation table was so long away, and it wasn't long before he dropped the effort and sat cross-legged on the floor, glaring viciously at Vincent as a final ode to his difficulty.
Many moments passed. MANY moments, that is, before Hojo finally found himself leaning back against the counter as Vincent's blood dripped from the sides of the metal slab. He smiled was satisfaction and victory, but now was the next advance… He straightened, raising his eyebrows down at his rotting arch-nemesis. What to do with the body?
He could throw it away in a dumpster some place. It would most likely be blamed on SOLDIER anyway…after all, no one would suspect a corpse to be cast out in the garbage by Hojo who hadn't first been dissected beyond -
…A broad, horrid smile stretched across the scientist's expression. Why couldn't he see the solution before? He didn't HAVE to take care of the body…he could mold it. Create something from it. It just looked like a corpse…it really was the gate to innumerable possibilities, contained in beautiful crimson arteries, veins, organs, bones, and entrails. Hojo left the body where it was, throwing a tarp over it so Vincent appeared just like any other dead thing that the professor was momentarily studying. He made for the door, leaving his laboratory coat on a rack in the corner of the room and switching off the light.
He decided he'd leave the blood splattered about the tile…as a reminder of how much of a genius he truly was.