"That's not what guns are for." Vincent's voice rasped out of dry, cracked lips. He lie sprawled out, eyes trained on the ceiling moving far above him, the elevator giving a slow, melodic hum. His limbs ached and burned, eyes bloodshot from the battle just before.
Azul the Cerulean, a beast of a man. Blue hair that spiked out upon his head, his figure like that of a tank rushing at the slender gunman in the heat of battle. Vincent's revolver had just run out of bullets, one planted firmly in the Behemoth's stomach as he turned to leave. Though being swept to the side had not only knocked the wind out of him, but nearly his consciousness too.
It worked, didn't it?
Vincent heard the familiar sound from within, his nostrils flaring as the ache to his temples began to soothe. He raised a gloved hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, shoulders rolling back against the hard, cold, steel floor.
"It doesn't change the fact."
While incapacitated, he'd lost control. A swirl of red and black blurred his vision, a sick grin contorting over his face. Claws had sprung from his fingertips, fangs protruding from his normally perfect teeth. But with all his powers, the strange WEAPON inside of him had but thrown his opponents gun at him, impaling him completely.
I could have let him kill you. The voice from within echoed with a laugh, a sort of sound following suit- like nails on a chalkboard. Vincent inwardly flinched.
Though Vincent's mind wouldn't rest. Not while so many questions, one in particular, plagued his brain. He turned over onto one side, hand reaching out to wrap around the handle of his revolver. He tugged it closer, the charm clinking along the ridges of the floor.
"So, why didn't you?"
There was silence.
If Chaos had let him die, he would have been free. Able to return to the planet as Minerva had meant for him to. To return to his own section of unstable mako in the crystal cavern. Vincent would have ceased to exist...and Chaos and Omega would have sailed out unto the heavens, finally completing their destiny. So why didn't Chaos let him die?
"Chaos?"
I don't like this question. Ask me a different one.
Vincent furrowed his brows, slowly getting up into a sitting position. The throbbing in his chest had subsided, leaving only a subtle sting from the wound that had closed.
You know, when I was your age-
"Chaos."
-Though, honestly...I can't really remember when I was your age...-
"Chaos..."
-You could ask me about the lifestream. I know all about the lifestream.
"Thank you."
And so there was silence.
You're right. That's not what guns are for.
Very short drabble. I may continue this with an actual fic if people like it enough. It just always bugged me and I thought...well, you decide. I'd love to hear your theories on why exactly Chaos didn't let Vincent die.