AN: Hi guys! This is the first time I'm writing a Final Fantasy fanfic, and also the first time I'm trying to write a horror/ psychologically pressing story. It's a new challenge, and I'd appreciate all the comments and suggestions to make it better.
Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to Final Fantasy VII characters, I only own the present storyline.
Breach I – Guilt
Stranger by whom these words be read,
Weep for the living, not for the dead.
-Irish tombstone inscription
It was bright. Cloud hadn't remembered the sky could be such a light shade of blue. It seemed almost transparent; the color was so ethereal with hues of white and light pink. In the midst of it, the blond couldn't bring himself to be surprised to notice that there was no sun.
Warm air of the eternal plains graced Cloud's cheek softly. The sweet smell of flowers sneaked its way into his nostrils – delicate yet fresh, like a lingering ghost of a crisp fall morning after the ground has been ever so slightly frozen over. He inhaled deeply, savoring it.
He had no idea for how long he had been walking in there, nor could he quite pinpoint how he had got there in the first place. If this was a real place, he didn't know nor did he care. He didn't feel anxious or tired, and although he wasn't quite sure, he had the hunch he couldn't feel hunger in this place, either. If Cloud had faith in a divine power, he could have imagined one to dwell in a place like this.
Suddenly, a strange feeling of familiarity engulfed him. Suddenly he was very much aware that he wasn't alone.
"Hmh?" With a quiet sound, he looked around. His heart leaped, not too nicely, when he saw another person sitting amongst the flowers, their back turned towards him, about a hundred meters away. He didn't need to see the person's outline to feel Aerith's aura. Inwardly, Cloud scolded himself for not recognizing the presence of the woman immediately. He started to walk towards her, casually at first, but speeding up as the desire to just see her – to touch her – nearly overpowered him. Still, subconsciously he understood that he was expected to approach carefully; that running would disturb this wonderful place, and risk driving the spirit away.
For a spirit she indeed was. Cloud's mood grew dark as the painful memory of laying Aerith's body to her final rest forced its way into his mind. Despite what everyone around him constantly tried to tell him, Cloud blamed himself for letting that happen – for letting Sephiroth... He shuddered with a sting of hate, and with significant willpower, he managed to submerge the memory of the predatory smirk when Aerith breathed her last.
She didn't turn around immediately. She did acknowledge him, however, by a small nod over her shoulder, eyes downcast.
"Hello, Cloud," she said softly yet clearly. Her voice was warm and gentle, and it struck Cloud like a hammer into his heart. This woman had suffered so much. He couldn't comprehend her kindness, especially towards himself. Cloud didn't think he deserved it. He didn't know what to tell her, what could he possibly say? Should he ask her how she was? Should he apologize? It took him quite some time to utter a simple hello, and even that sounded nervous and a bit off.
"It's been such a while," the spirit said, finally turning around. Her smile became the Sun of the sunless sky, Cloud was certain of it, and her beautiful eyes shone with genuine happiness. He gulped. "How have you been, Cloud?"
Like shit, Cloud thought briefly, but was absolutely not going to say that out loud. Aerith understood nonetheless, chuckled. Looking away briefly, he said the only reasonable thing he could think of,
"I've missed you."
Aerith's glowing aura grew less radiant and a frown was beginning to form between her eyes. Her voice was calm, but into it seeped a venomous edge, "Well perhaps you shouldn't have let me die then."
That hit the mark. A guilty and pained expression flashed on Cloud's face and he took an unconscious step back, feeling ashamed of himself. "I- I'm sorry..." he begun but was cut short. He couldn't convince even himself.
Cloud felt like vomiting. He had felt like it for the past nine months. His hands had begun to tremble. That warm and inviting look on Aerith's face turned stern and demanding, and the spirit's glow dimmed.
"I'm sorry I couldn't protect you."
Aerith didn't say anything for a while, but her eyes filled with sorrow and the last remaining glimmer about her died down. Cloud was lost for words – this was his fault. He wanted to comfort the spirit, to apologize, to do anything to make her feel better. He moved his hand towards her shoulder in an attempt to touch her – to pull her against his chest and hold her – but was interrupted when he noticed movement in the corner of his eye. His eyes immediately flew towards the hazy notion, and he couldn't help a shocked yelp from escaping when he saw the dark, bluish mucus.
Out of Aerith's left arm was oozing thick, dark mud that gradually moved up her arm and trailed downwards to stain her palm and fingers. Shocked, Cloud instinctively jerked his hand away; he cast a scared look at Aerith's face. Aerith had turned her head away from the disturbing sight in her arm and refused to look at Cloud in the eyes.
"What... happened to you?!" Cloud quickly closed in the distance between them and gripped the yet untainted hand of the woman. She still didn't look at him, and Cloud grew alarmed. "Answer me, Aerith! What is this?"
Aerith spoke in a low voice. "You think I'm disgusting." It wasn't a question. It was a statement, an accusation. She had her eyes downcast, looking at the flowers on which a few droplets of mucus now fell. The flowers withered instantly. Then she turned her head towards him again, and Cloud's eyes widened in sheer shock and terror. His body worked before his mind could keep up, and out of instinct he pushed her away from him and stumbled back a few feet, his eyes like saucers.
"You think I'm disgusting," she said again, but this time it was upset and angry, and her voice echoed darkly.
Where her eyes should have been were now two bottomless holes, and the thick, disgusting substance steadily welled up from them. The mucus shimmered in dirty shade of electric blue in the sunless light of the ethereal plain. From the mud emerged other things as well – rotted sea weeds, glass shards, even creatures. Cloud watched in useless terror as a leech about the size of a fist formed from amongst the dark mass that now trailed down to stain Aerith's lips and trickled onto her breasts. The creature slimed its way down her cheek and neck, and when it reached her collarbone, it bit down onto her neck. Aerith flinched.
The air turned heavy and pressuring, and the radiance was gone. From the corners of his eyes, Cloud noticed that the flower plain was melting away. It dribbled down into nothingness beneath as if the entire universe had spilled over its edges and fallen into the deep space, everywhere around him, the edge getting nearer and nearer.
This can't be happening, you're dreaming, none of this is real – his logical mind tried to reason with his panicked heart, but failed miserably. Cloud's breath came in light pants; much as he wanted to, he couldn't turn his eyes away from obscene sight in front of him. It was equally captivating as it was horryfying. The creature in front of him now raised a hand slowly, pointing its accusation.
"What happened, you ask. Well I tell you. You happened, Cloud." All the warmth was gone. Her voice was like a rugged blade that tore right through his chest, and Cloud briefly wondered how anything can possibly scorch and freeze at the same time.
"You did this to me! You are the reason why I am like this!" There was a gasp from Aerith as a new wound was ripped right below her chest. The mass spurted out of her in a splash of black and blue as if something had been roughly pushed into her back, impaling her. Again, Cloud thought desperately.
He backed away, his face frozen in a look of shock, as Aerith took a step closer. The dribbling edge of the plain was only meters away.
"You failed me, Cloud!" Aerith's voice wasn't hers anymore. It was pained and shrieking and piercing and drowned everything underneath it, including the erratic thumping of Cloud's heart. The pointed finger was now oozing as well. The substance was gradually covering up her entire body.
"You didn't protect me! You let me die!"
"Stop it..." Cloud was too frightened to think of anything to say, he just desperately whispered those little words, more to himself than to the creature in front of him. He was beyond scared when he realized there was no way out for him. The blackness surrounding what little was left of the plain was overpowering. If he took two more steps back, he'd fall off the edge, and the edge kept crawling closer. As did Aerith, and Cloud couldn't tell which he was more afraid of.
"You tried to hurt me yourself! It is all your fault! You did this to me!"
The ground caved in under Cloud's feet; stumbling backwards into unending darkness, he cast the last, desperate and apologetic glance towards the horrifying figure that used to be the woman he had loved, the image electric-cool mud pooling out from her eyes forever burned into his mind. Before blackness consumed him, he could still hear painfully clearly the woman screaming only one word again and again, and could have died on the spot.
Failure.
Cloud fell, for how long or how deep, he didn't know. It was silent and pitch-black, and the blackness soon grew suffocating. Another head-splitting scream tore his mind; he saw images, teasing flashes of the past; recognized the outline of the collapsing ruins of Nibelheim being consumed by the fire; heard the desolate, frightened screams of the townsfolk; felt the agony and disbelief sting vividly in his chest. He felt blood rushing out of his own chest from where Masamune had pierced him that day, but there was nothing but darkness.
The vision of burning bodies and incinerated houses blurred up in a hot flash of flames, and from amongst the ruins he could make out the shape of an all too familiar dark, spiked hair. Zack, laying on the ground, coughing up blood. His face got rounder and more feminine and his hair lengthened and bleached lighter until it was replaced by the loving features of Aerith. She smiled at him sweetly, but as she blinked her eyes closed, Cloud knew what was coming. He found himself again staring into those bottomless pits with thick tar seeping out of them. As he stared at her, unable to block the visions, Aerith opened her mouth to say something. Cloud watched helplessly in horror as the crack between her lips got wider and wider.
It tore muscle. The skin around Aerith's lips yielded as the crack widened unnaturally, and kept expanding. There was only blackness inside her as the air turned chilling and his breath evaporated. Then, the shrilling screaming again. It shattered him, tore him apart.
From the midst of the darkness, Cloud felt a light touch on his arm. Just a wisp, feathery even. Unable to stop himself, he cracked his eyes open, saw turquoise and silver, and felt his heart sink. Cloud's own desperate scream mixed in with the rest as he clenched his eyes shut and tried to tear his hair off.
"Cloud? Cloud! Hey, Cloud!"
"Huh?!" Cloud startled awake when Tifa shook his shoulder vigorously. The groggy blue snapped at the direction, trying to gather where he was. Seeing that her friend was awake, Tifa let our a deep breath of content and turned her eyes back to the road. Cloud had been twitching and mumbling something incomprehensible in his sleep for minutes, and Tifa had gotten a bit uncomfortable.
"Bad dream?" she said with an inkling of a smirk.
Cloud, stroking his wild hair with his left hand, let out a sigh as the last of sleep left him. He snorted a somewhat affirmative answer to her, and yawned to bring himself back into this world.
"Care to share?" Tifa grinned at him happily in an attempt to cheer him up. She was also a bit curious to hear the story, but wasn't particularly expecting to hear it.
"'Not really," he muttered and looked away from Tifa. "How long did I sleep?"
"Half an hour, tops. Are you tired?"
"Not really…"
What a horrible nightmare, Cloud thought absentmindedly. He must have fallen asleep and dreamed, that was the only logical explanation. Although Cloud couldn't remember feeling tired earlier. Shrugging, he gathered himself to recall.
Tifa had managed to borrow a truck and they were on their way to loot some ruins in Midgar. Cloud gazed at the vast wasteland they were passing, not really looking at anything. They were driving in a steady pace, but still he could feel a steady bulge of discomfort forming in his stomach. He hadn't realized it through his dream, but now that he was wide awake, he begun to notice the tremor against the uneven gravel road. He really didn't enjoy a car ride, and the motion sickness was slowly but surely kicking in. He swallowed firmly in an attempt to push back the nauseating feeling and tried to focus his eyes on the road ahead instead.
Why did I let Tifa drag me along in the truck? I could have taken the bike and met her on site, he thought sulkily as he kept trying to fight the uneasiness. Tifa had protested him taking the bike since she figured that if they had to take the truck anyway, it would have been a waste of fuel for him to ride separately. Like a sheep he had finally agreed.
Tifa must have noticed for she glanced suspiciously at the blond and asked quickly, "Hey Cloud, are you alright?"
Slightly tilting his head towards the woman, Cloud replied with an agreeing hum. "Just getting a little... motion sick. Can you please try to avoid the bumps instead of hitting them?" he grunted half-heartedly. She gave a soft snort and shook her head, focusing on the road again.
"So, where exactly are we going?"
"There is a collapsed industrial hall in the old Second Sector that was largely constructed of iron and aluminum, even copper. I heard that it didn't take an awful lot of beating, save for the roof structures, and that much of it might still be usable. We just have to go and get it." She flashed the blond a grateful smile. He simply snorted. It sounded a little ill.
Then, glancing at her stoic friend, the brunet's lips spread into a mischievous grin, and she suddenly yanked the steering wheel abruptly, tossing the truck to the side recklessly. She let out a hearty little laughter at Cloud's surprised yelp as he instinctively grabbed his belt to balance himself and Tifa brought the truck back to the road.
"Hey! If you're driving then would you please, otherwise I'll be glad to!" The tossing had irked his stomach in less than nice fashion; feeling his face pale, he fought the urge to vomit.
Tifa laughed at him, "Relax, just kidding." When Cloud pouted at her, she punched him into the arm playfully and added, "Oh, comoon, it was fun!"
The proud blond still grumbled something to himself as he settled comfortably into his seat again; Tifa only chuckled, and finally Cloud too shook his head and laughed a little.
The hint had been precious: the ruins of the hall were raggedy, but the constructions hadn't taken too much damage. A bit dented from here and there, but definitely reusable. The building had copper pipe plumbing, and seeing that had Tifa actually jumping in excitement. They dug up and loaded the truck with strong iron and copper bars, fuel, whole sheets of aluminum – basically anything they could find.
"I'm going to go look up ahead if I can find some more fuel. Surely would come in handy," Tifa yelled eagerly to Cloud as she dusted her hands. Cloud raised his hand at her direction and hollered out a confirmation, and she was on her way without another word. Cloud himself was disassembling a former industrial elevator that had – surprisingly – survived the calamity with little damage.
As the last supporting bolt yielded and unhinged, the heavy bar came falling down with a heavy clang. Cloud gazed at it for a moment, satisfied with its quality as well as his efforts. With a sigh he ran his hand casually through his mass of hair, and cast his eyes up to the sky.
Not really fighting it, Cloud let his mind wander back into his dream just a few hours ago. "A third one..." the blond thought out loud. That had been the third time this week he had dreamt… vividly. Horrifyingly. However, this time it had been different. The previous nightmares about the past had, at least as far as he could remember, never been this intense. He had usually forgotten about them as he had snapped awake, remembering an anxious feeling and memories of agony but that had been all. In fact, he was quite certain he had never actually been an active part of his nightmares before – more like a bystander or an apparition. But this time... His eyebrows tightened. The freezing atmosphere; the gruesome image of that disgusting tar trickling down Aerith's face and neck; and… the turquoise eyes... in the blackness...
Shivers ran down his spine at the recollection of Sephiroth's cold, menacing, crystal clear eyes in front of him, and his hand rose to touch the scar in his chest lightly. He clenched his teeth and gave a deliberate shake to his head.
"He's dead." He needed to hear it, if only to assure himself. It was the truth, Cloud himself had watched him evaporate into Lifestream. But why couldn't he shake the feeling that something sinister was looming in the darkness still?
