((This is my first attempt at writing a fan fiction, so be gentle. Its a very odd mixture so far of Stephen King's The Dark Tower and Final Fantasy VII, none of which I own, though a guy can wish I suppose.))
John Blues awoke without much thought. He was eighteen years old on that day, and had been living in New York for about a year. His mom had gotten a job downtown in a new company (it seemed like she had been doing that a lot, finding another job that made him move) where she did computer coding. John had given up trying to remember the names of the companies she worked for. He knew it was something like South Central Computations or something like that, but he felt it no longer mattered to keep track. John had been born in Chicago, but he left there shortly after his second birthday. He moved all around the country, every year or so, following the jobs his mother received. Some might wonder why there's no mention of John's father traveling with them. The reason being was that John's father died in Kosovo. He was part of a special ops unit that fell under fire during a mission. His body was never recovered. John's mother had always resented her husband for it, considering the sacrifice far too great a cost for the end. John never seemed to have an opinion on the subject. However, they lived well enough now, but John wouldn't have minded staying still for more than five minutes. He could never get his bearings right, and when he did, he just ended up moving again. He tried to be optimistic and tell himself that this was it, that after this there would be no more moving. Little did John know that Ka was a wheel, and that moving was what Ka had planned.
On September 11th, 2001, John woke up to a message on his cell phone, setting off an alarm at seven A.M. John picked up the phone and listened to his message. Apparently, his mom was working down at the Twin Towers today, and she had left some files on her desk that morning, and she needed him to bring them to her. He looked at his watch. He supposed the sooner this got done, then sooner he could get back to laying around the whole day. John had failed to get into a college he had wanted, and afterwards lost the motivational drive to move forward. All he did was live day to day in some blur, if you called it living that is. He had a job working in a book store in the city, but it was a day off, a day he had proposed to sleep in. His mother seemed to disagree. Well, the sooner he got this done with, the sooner he could get back to sleeping.
He got the files picked up and made his way down to the towers. It was eight fifteen by this time, and he was in a very nonchalant mood. He dropped the papers off at the front desk. "These are for Mrs. Blues, she should be consulting somewhere here," He had said. The woman at the front desk took the files, giving John a look that said that her morning wasn't going good and he had better not be another punk playing some god damned trick. The woman made a phone call and checked to make sure John's mom really was there and working. She was, and after a brief look over through security, her files were on their way. As John turned to walk out, the woman called after him. "Your mom says she has something else for you!" the woman hollered at him. John felt like just walking off, but what the hell, he had nothing better to do right?
The woman listened to Mrs. Blues on the telephone. "She says she needs some files and personal effects from a locker downstairs. The number's 884, and the combo's … 42 … 36 … 13. She says to bring them as soon as quick s o you can get on off to work." John snorted a bit of a laugh at this. His mom really didn't have a clue. Oh well, might as well do it and get it over with so he wouldn't have to hear here complain and bitch to him later. He checked in and got a pass, then followed the directions the receptionist had given him down to the locker room. The clock on the wall of the locker room read 8:40 A.M.
He walked down the rows of lockers, looking for the right one. As he was closing in on it, he felt strange. He could hear something…bells? Yeah, the sound of small bells tinkling. But it was an eerie sound, one that made his skin and flesh crawl and make goose bumps. He made his way to 884, but stopped at 883. There was something in there. He could feel it. He slapped himself, to make sure he was awake. It felt like a dream all of a sudden. Everything seemed very surrealistic. The clock on the wall hit 8:44 as he moved his hand to the lockers handle and opened the door without a key or combo. He kind of knew it would work didn't he? One didn't feel this kind of thing without knowing that it wanted to be seen. The air around him suddenly smelled funny, like it was full of electricity. Inside was an orb. A jet black orb whose insides swam in front of his eyes. Next to it was an old bowling bag, but this was no bowling ball. John could hear the tinkling bells very clear now, coming from the inside of this orb. Suddenly, the orb seemed to look at John, and he could sense panic in its gaze. John could feel the thing was alive in a way. Not sentient, but alive. John reached out and touched the smooth edge of the orb. The clock on the wall hit 8:46:30 AM and John heard a loud bang and crash as he fell into the darkness. He would later sit and wonder if this crash had come from the orb, or from the worst tragedy to ever hit American soil.
John fell through maddening darkness. And those bells, or whatever they were, felt as if they were scraping against his bran like glass. He tried to shut them off, but the sound was coming from inside, not out. He heard other things too. They sounded old. And big. And very bad. They were the sounds of things that existed in this place. They moved around, looking for ways out. John tried to run, but he had lost sense of his body. He simply felt falling and blackness. What had he gotten himself into?
He hit the ground hard. "What the fuck…?" he grunted as he stood up. He realized suddenly that it was very cold. He got up and brushed snow off. He looked around quickly. He seemed to be in New York still, but something was very wrong. He had woken up this morning to a cloudless, sunny day. He looked up now and saw that there was a dark overcast and snow was falling from the sky. "What the fuck?!" he said, this time louder. There wasn't anybody around, though it would have mad little difference, and his swearing went unnoticed. He looked around. He was in Central Park. As he looked around, though, he could tell there was something else wrong. It was the skyline. It took him a while to figure it out, but he realized that the Twin Towers were missing from it. They were completely gone! "How the hell?" he muttered under his chattering teeth. He supposed he had better get something more to wear. He was wearing jeans, but the t-shirt he had on would not protect him for long. He made his way out of the park and down towards were the buildings had been. He stopped by a store on the way that was advertising a sale on heavy jackets. When he tried to pay with his credit card, the machine rejected it, so he paid in cash, using up a great deal of what little he had on him. He would make his way home later to find some more before figuring out what had happened to him.
He marched through the snow which was now piling up. He made a detour towards where the Towers had stood. He stopped as he approached the memorial structure. There was a list of names carved in quartz. He could barely believe his eyes. This was insanity. "How could this happen?" he gasped. He looked through the names. "Ayuh," said an old man next to him. John was startled at the voice. "Been six years now," he said. With the accent it sounded like Ben six yeahs na. John couldn't believe his ears. Had he traveled to the future? Could it really be possible? His eyes settled on a name and he felt his heart drop. Glenda Blues it read. Then he felt his blood run to ice at the name next to it. It was his own. "You okay boy?" the old man asked, giving a concerned look," You look like you've seen a ghost." John looked to the man. "I think I am," he said. The old man gave him a bit of a look then hurried off, obviously thinking John was a complete nutcase. Six years, he thought, what did this mean? Could he go back to the apartment? He supposed not. By now the remaining assets were probably distributed among various relatives. He walked aimlessly for a while. For the first time, John felt the need to drink. Heavily. It would not be the last either. But he barely had enough money to get a meal let alone a drink. What was he going to do?
Before he knew it, he was back where he began in Central Park. Fuck, he thought. There in the ground was that black ball. It looked dormant now. He realized that it was the ball that had done this. He thought of what he felt when he found it. Panic, he thought, the ball was panicking. It knew that the towers were going to be hit by something, and it wanted to survive. But now what? Was it content on freezing in the snow?
As if on cue, the ball seemed to awaken. Next to it was that bag that had been lying in the locker with it. Mid-World Lanes the bag read. He slipped the bag over the black orb and the zipped it up. He didn't want to look at it ever again. Suddenly, he smelled something very welcome. It was hot chocolate. His mind warmed just by the smell. He saw a vendor down the way a bit. He walked over and used some of his remaining cash to buy a large cup. The hot liquid refreshed his tired mind. He looked and saw some others in the park. Mainly couples walking hand in hand. One caught his eye. It was a man and a woman and a young boy and his dog. The woman was being pushed by the older man. They looked to be in their thirties or late twenties. The boy seemed to be in his teens. They passed nearby, and as they went next to a trash can, the woman stopped the man pushing her with a gentle squeeze of his hand. They're lovers, he thought. It seemed weird, as John could now see that the woman had no legs, but he wondered more why he cared. He watched as the woman looked into the trash, shook her head a bit, and motioned for them to continue. John watched as they left. He noticed the dog trailing them. "'Ake!" it barked at the boy. John thought of how human it sounded, but let it slip away as he watched them go. Theirs is done, yours is just beginning.
What was that? It sounded like it came from his head, but almost as if it was from outside. He shook his head as he made his way to the trash can. He rationalized himself by saying he was just going to throw out his now empty cup of hot chocolate. As he dropped the cup in, he noticed something flash at the bottom of the can. A gun.
John didn't know how long he looked at that gun, but he soon felt the orb inside the bag awaken more. It didn't like the gun. Too bad, John thought, reality bites. He reached down and picked it up. He brushed some dead petals off of it. It was old. Older than old. Ancient. It was rusted in many places and dull everywhere else. It was probably the most worthless piece of junk he had ever seen. It was also what the woman had been looking at. He held it up, then quickly put it away. He didn't want to scare anyone. However, a couple walked past him, not noticing a thing. They had to have seen him with the gun. Were they blind?
He brought the gun out again. He looked closer at it. Maybe it wasn't as junked up as he thought it was. He could see some spots at least that weren't rusted through. In fact, now that he looked at it, he figured it could fire. Maybe all it needed was a little cleaning. The orb was working up again. He could begin to hear the bells again. Those mind-wrenching bells. As the bells grew louder, the gun seemed to lose its oldness. It began to lose its rust and dullness and began to shine and take on a lively hue. The gun was coming back to life. What is happening? He wondered, not for the last time. The truth of the matter was that the gun was coming to life because it was needed again. John fell into darkness once more.
The darkness lasted far longer than before, but John felt safer. The gun seemed to be a talisman in the darkness, a source of hope and protection.
This time when he landed though, he was very far away from New York.
John awoke to a bright sun overhead. It took his eyes a moment to adjust. He stood and looked at his surroundings now. He knew immediately he was somewhere far from New York, any place else like it for that matter. The air was cleaner. Much cleaner. The sun seemed brighter too, though he had just come from an overcast city. He was standing in a large hilly plain. It was odd, though. In the distance he could see mountains rising up, without little warning from the flatness. It was like he was out west somewhere, like Colorado or Nevada. He picked up the bowling ball case and looked inside. The orb, or whatever it was, seemed to be dead asleep now. He scanned the horizon. It looked like there was a small town up ahead in the distance. Perhaps he could figure out where he was up there. He slung the bag over his back and went to pick up the gun, but was taken aback. The gun was now polished, gleaming in the sun. the wood, he could now tell, was a hard sandalwood. He picked it up. The weight suddenly felt good, solid. He put t into the pocket of his jacket, just in case.
He continued on his way into towards the town, when he heard something. It was a like a buzzing, but not insectile. John soon placed it as a motorcycle. Wait, he thought, what kind of motorcycle rides on this terrain? His answer soon came as he turned around. There coming at him, was one of the biggest motorcycles he had ever seen. He couldn' make out who the driver was though. All he could make out was a mess of huge spiky blonde hair. John thought it was as good a ride as an. He waved his hands in the air, trying to signal the guy down. "Hey! HEY! Pull over! Can you give me a lift?" he yelled.
But the man went right by, not even slowing down. John watched in a little shock. He had known rudeness, he had been living in New York after all, but how do you leave someone stranded in the middle of nowhere like that? "Oh yeah? Well fuck you too!" he yelled at the man. He decided he might as well continue on towards the town he saw. It seemed as if night was coming on. He didn't want to know what that orb would be like in the night. That ting seemed to like the darkness.
He reached the edge of the town just as night fell. Like he had expected, the black orb began to stir a bit, but it wasn't awake. He wasn't sure what that meant. Was it worn out? Had it thrown them that far from New York?
He read the sign outside of the town. Rocket Town. He had never heard of this place, but then again, there towns past the Mississippi seemed to lose their originality in names. If only he knew how far west of the Mississippi he was.
The town seemed to be almost dead. There were only a few people in the street, and many of the houses looked dark. He went up to one building that had a giant INN sign over its door. He peered inside, but everything was dark. Something about this seemed wrong, but he didn't know why. "Inn's been closed for six months now sonny," a man said behind him. He turned and saw an older man standing behind him. He had coarse blond hair that were in short spikes. In the blond were patches of gray and even white. "Ain't been enough visitors around to keep it goin'. Not since the meteor hit. You a traveler kid?"
John paused for a minute to regain composure. The man had a giant spear on his back. What the hell was up with that? "Uh, yeah. I suppose so," John answered. He really didn't know what he was. Actually, he did, now that he thought about it. "I'm lost."
The man looked at John and shook his head. "Damn kids," he muttered," Well, hitch up yer stuff and come along. Me and the wife'll put you up for the night. Outside ain't a good place to be nowadays after nightfall." John felt a subtle tiredness in the man's voice. "We got some other company round, so you'll probably end up sharin' a room tonight, alright?"
"Yeah, sure, whatever," he said. He didn't know if he should be taking this guy's offer up. I mean, do you really accept invitations to houses where people carry around huge spears like that? "Come on step lively!" the men shot at John," It ain't but over the hill so keep up." John ran a bit and caught up with the old man. He watched as a house that clearly was more alive than any other place he had seen since arriving. Most of the windows were lit up and there seemed to be a noise of conversation and laughter drifting from the home. He also saw something else that seemed to take him aback a bit. It was a giant launch pad, like something the space shuttles used. The man must have noticed his stare. "Yeah," he said," Space has always been a hobby of mine. I wanna try and get up there someday. It'd be nice y'know? Seein the satrs and Gaia..." He trailed off, looking at the stars as they walked. John thought of what he said. Gaia? He knew the name was in Greek mythology, he had been a mythology nerd back in the seventh grade, and he wondered if he was one of those new age guys. He didn't seem to be though. He seemed like the guy who'd smoke a pack of Chesterfields while downing a bottle of Wild Turkey. As they approached the house, Cid asked, "So what's yer name kid?"
"John," he said," John Blues."
"Pleasure to meet ya, Johnny B." the mans said," Name's Cid. I'll introduce you to everyone in a minute." They had reached the door and John could smell food and hear light hearted conversation from behind the door. Cid opened the door and brought him into a group he would never forget.
"Come on everybody pipe down! We got a guest here!" he roared over the loud conversation, and everyone but one girl piped down in a hurry. "So I said, sure fine, go ahead, but I'll still steal your material before you…uh…" she noticed everyone else was looking at her, and she quickly became quite. John scanned the room. There were about four in what appeared to be the dining room ,sitting around a table, and one over on the side looking out a window. He also heard what sounded like little kids playing on the floor above them. "This here's John Blues. He's some punk traveler and since the inn's all closed up, he'll be stayin here for the night." He lifted his hand and gave a small wave to the group. All but the man by the window waved back. "Now that one there's the wife, Shera. She'll be makin you some food in a bit and you had better damn well compliment her on it." He pointed to one of the women sitting at the table. She appeared to be the same age as Cid, with dark hair that was beginning to gray. "That there's Yuffie, she's an annoyin little ninja brat from down south in Wutai…" He said as he pointed to the girl that hadn't piped down quick enough. She was dressed in what he guessed was ninja gear, though he hadn't ever thought that ninja's were still around. "That's Barrett…" Cid said as the big black man raised his hand to John. He seemed unusually big, and if John wasn't mistaken, that was a very large gun where his other arm should be. "And then there's Tifa…" he said, pointing to the last member of the group. At the table. John was instantly struck by her. She was very pretty, and very nice in figure. He had to focus to keep his eyes from slipping down. As sexist as it sounded, it was the truth. "And finally over in the corner is the one and only Vincent Valentine." John looked over at the man who was either deaf or in a state of extreme concentration. John guessed the latter since the red-caped man turned quick enough to look at John, then turn away. His eyes scared John a bit. "Well that's it. Why don't you have a seat while I bring yeh somethin to drink."
"Thanks," he took a seat at the edge of the table and looked around. He noticed that there were several bottles of Wild Turkey on a shelf. "So where are you from?" someone asked, drawing his attention back to the group of people at the table. He had wanted them to just ignore him, but that didn't seem like a likely thing now. "Um, for all intents and purposes, New York," he said.
"New what?" the girl, Yuffie, asked confused," Is that like some kind of new town?"
"Are…are you serious?" John asked, but it seemed as if nobody at the table new about New York. All had that same confused face," You know…the big apple, home of the Yankees, uh…Twin Towers, Empire State building, Statue of Liberty?" Yet all was for naught as nobody showed any kind of recognition. He suddenly felt his blood go very cold. "Where am I?" he asked.
"Rocket Town, dear," Shera said.
"Yeah I know that, but I mean, what state?" he asked.
"State?" Tifa asked. John refused to look at her though. That would be a little too much right now.
"Are you telling me I'm not even in the USA? What country then? Where is this?" he asked, a little angrier. He noticed that the man at the window was staring at him intently now.
"Are you delirious or something?" Yuffie asked," You're on the Eastern Continent in the Northern Region."
John felt his head throb. Where was he? Where had that thing sent him? Cid had reentered the room. He was carrying two drinks. One looked like a soda, the other was a full glass of whiskey, presumably for himself. He had stopped in the entry way between the kitchen and dining room. "You alright Johnny?"
"No, I really don't think I am," he said," I've had a very long trip, and a lot of things have happened, and I could really use some sleep."
"Sure thing," Cid said, "Shera?"
"Of course," she said kindly, "This way John."
As he left he heard conversation strike up again. "So did you get Cloud those parts?" he heard Tifa ask.
"Yeah, he got em," Cid answered," I think he's tryin to get back to Radiant Garden…"
John tried to sleep, but it wouldn't come. He heard as one by one, the group downstairs came up to their rooms. Cid had said he would have to share the room, and he was wondering who it would be. He kind of hoped it would be Tifa. That would make his stay here a little more pleasant, that would be for sure. Instead, he heard the door open and in walked the red-caped Vincent Valentine. John felt the orb wake up, and he thought he saw something register on Vincent's face as well. "What's in the bag?" Vincent asked, not taking his eyes off of it.
John bent over and placed it on a small end table. He opened it up and showed it to Vincent. "Interesting…." The man muttered," I felt something was in there. I've seen my fair share of powerful artifacts, and this orb is very powerful. Very sinister in feeling. When did you find it?"
"I found it earlier…" he thought about it a bit," Today I guess."
Vincent looked at it, his dark eyes examining it. The orb began to swirl on the inside, reacting to Vincent's gaze on it.
"Do you know what it is?" he asked.
"Not really," John answered," It's sent me far from home. I don't know why though."
"It seems to be materia, except it isn't. This thing seems to be something more than just materia. It feels like something far more powerful. Wait, do you hear that?"
John did. It was the bells again. He wondered where he would be thrown now? It seemed that whenever those damn bells began to ring, he was thrown even farther from home.
This time, however, something different happened. John went nowhere, although in retrospect he would probably would have chosen that. Vincent was suddenly thrown back against the wall. "Agh!" he yelled in pain," ARGH!" He let out an even more guttural cry that sounded more beast then human. Suddenly, Vincent began to change in front of John's eyes. His face changed into that of a wolf, he grew demon's horns, a thick skin of fur crept over his skin, and he took on the full form of some kind of demonic wolf.. "Heh-Heh-HEEEEELP!" John yelled. Vincent let out a loud cry and lunged at John and the orb. John grabbed it and ducked in time to avoid the wolf Vincent. He reached into his jacket and pulled out the gun. It was probably his only hope. He fired the gun, and the bullet went ricocheting off the wall. :Damn it!" he yelled, realizing that he was probably one of the worst people to use a gun. The wolf turned and lunged again, this time tackling John, pushing them out of the window. As they landed, John rolled away from the wolf, and tried to get away. Suddenly there came the sound of heavy gunfire. He looked back and saw it was Barrett, his large arm-gun blazing. It drew the wolf's attention. "No Barrett!" Tifa yelled at him," Don't kill him! I'll take care of him. Vincent!" The wolf turned towards Tifa and let out a howl and went to attack her. "Vincent stop!" she cried, dodging the attack with ease," what's gotten into you?" The wolf rounded on itself and went o attack her again. This time, Tifa fought back. She weaved through the vicious strikes. She managed her way through the wolf's defenses and gave it several string punches and followed it with a strong kick, launching the wolf back. The wolf grabbed its abdomen in pain. "Yah!" Yuffie cried and threw a rope trap at Vincent. Tifa ran up as the wolf got trapped and gave it final kick in the gut. She stepped back. The wolf glared at her for three seconds, then fell to one knee, then to both, and finally it went down. The beast gave a few labored breaths and finally fell unconscious. Slowly, the beast changed back into the old Vincent. "What the hell happened?" Barrett growled
John went over and picked up the orb. It was asleep now. "This happened. I don't know why, but this thing is the cause of my problems. It's sent me a long way from home, and now recently it turned your friend there into some kind of werewolf!" He looked down at the ball, glaring at it, almost daring it to wake up again.
"What is it?" Tifa asked, walking slowly over to John.
"I don't know," he answered, not looking at her," Evil, I think. Besides that I haven't a clue. Your friend there, Vincent, he said it was like something….materia I think."
"Materia?" Tifa asked quizzically. She bent over his shoulder and looked at the ball. "It's not like any materia I've ever seen, except…" she raised her hand to her mouth,"…Meteor. It was black, like this."
Cid and Barrett were examining Vincent. Meanwhile, Yuffie was off a bit to the side, trying to get a glimpse of the orb. She had heard the magic word. Materia.
"Augh!" Vincent let out a gruff cry," Let go. I'm fine." He pushed Cid and Barrett's hands off and got to his feet. Tifa ran over to him. "Are you alright?" she asked, looking at him, grabbing his arm harshly. He winced a bit. "Yes," he muttered. He seemed to do that a lot. "I'm sorry," Tifa said, almost weeping. John could see from here the small pools of tears forming in her eyes. John had the same feeling he had when he saw the couple in the park, the one with the woman in the wheelchair. It was an odd sense that these two had something strong between them. "Don't be. You did what you had to do," Vincent said, almost smiling. He took her hand off his arm," I'm proud of you." He began to walk over towards John, and John saw as a tear almost made its way past Tifa's eye, but it receded quickly. She kept her feelings in check well.
Vincent stood over the orb. He touched his right chest. "That thing interfered with the Protomateria inside of me. Whatever it is and whatever it's made of, it was able to release the power of Chaos."
"That's putting it mildly," John retorted, not realizing the context. Vincent was quick to correct.
"No, Chaos, a being of destructive power that I harbor inside of me. What you saw was one form it gives me, the Galian Beast," he said.
Cid walked over and patted Vincent on the shoulder," Come on now, Vince. It's time to get everybody back to bed. We'll discuss this in the morning."
Vincent nodded, a bit reluctantly, John noticed. His sense of perception seemed o be keener than usual. Maybe it was just all the adrenaline. He made his way up to the room, but Vincent did not join him. Nobody did. For some reason, it made him feel very alone. He placed the orb down, wishing the thing would not be there when he woke up.