CHAPTER 4
Cloud stayed over that night. His decision allowed the doctor to see one of his nightmares firsthand. As he slept, the horrific images gripped him once more.
The building was dark and hollow. An unsettling instinct seeped through every nook and cranny of the place. Cloud hesitantly walked forward, not sure what he was going to find. Aerith's Church was so different to how he remembered. It did not feel like a sanctuary. It felt like his haven had been violated.
As he walked, the shadows seemed to follow, haunting his steps and whispering eerily behind his back. Cloud walked faster, hoping to escape the shadows. Yet they only chased him faster, building stronger and stronger.
Unexpectedly, Cloud found himself upon his knees. He dropped his hands out to support himself. Something squished underneath them. Slowly, Cloud drew his hands back and examined them.
A rich, red liquid dripped from his gloves. It was thick and had a pungent, unforgettable smell.
Blood.
Scrambling hurriedly to his feet, Cloud tried to back up. The shadows pressed in closer, stopping him from going anywhere. His breath became ragged as he stared at the flowerbed before him. It transformed before his eyes, wrenching his agonised heart.
The blood ran through the flowers, seeming to pulse with a heartbeat. It got thicker and thicker, climbing the stems and tainting the once-perfect flowers. The flowers wilted, melting into crimson liquid as they succumbed to the evil.
Aerith's flowers were gone. A bubbling mass of pulsing blood was all that remained.
Cloud moaned, unable to form coherent words to express any of the agony he was currently experiencing. He could feel the evil presence emanating out of the blood. It had turned into a river. He was knee-deep in it, the acrid scent burning his nostrils. Cloud felt sick.
The harsh, echoing laugh started, slowly building from the back of the church until it reverberated through Cloud's soul. He shuddered as the river of blood surged and rose higher, pressing against him. He knew that laugh.
The laughter built up, louder and louder. More mocking with each tone. In response, the blood pushed against Cloud, beginning to bubble up and form a mold around his body.
Restricting him. Suffocating him. Drowning him.
Cloud thrashed, trying to force the blood backwards. His hands merely splashed through it, useless against its attacks on him.
This was it. This was the end. He wasn't going to be able to defeat it. All his struggles and small triumphs had been for nothing. Cloud couldn't win this time. The laughter screamed in his head, threatening to split his skull...
"Cloud!"
The doctor grabbed him and pushed his arms down, desperate to wake his tormented patient. This was bad. No, beyond bad! It was shocking, terrible, scarring! It blew every textbook example of hallucinogenic nightmares out of the water! He had to wake him, now! Or he would seize.
"Cloud, c'mon! Listen to me! Wake up!"
The young man screamed, his voice half-hoarse from all the previous screams he had unleashed. The doctor gritted his teeth as Cloud fought against him, his steel-grips cutting off the circulation in his arms.
"Cloud! That's enough! It's not real!"
Managing to twist his arm far enough for a split moment, the doctor slapped him, hard. Cloud's eyes jerked open in mid-scream.
Slowly, the noise died on his lips as his eyes focused and Cloud managed to recognise the man restraining him. His panicked breaths heaved relentlessly, even as he sagged and allowed his hands to fall loose.
"Good?" the doctor said gently, before moving back. Cloud just lay there, gasping for a few more moments, before moaning and shuddering with his eyes squinted shut.
A dream. It had all been a dream. Just a nightmare.
A nightmare that had been far too real for his liking. Far too cruel. And in a deranged, twisted way, far too possible.
No! It wasn't possible! Blood did not spring forth from flowers! That harsh, echoing laugh would never ring out again! Sephiroth was dead! Cloud had killed him! He knew he was gone! Wasn't he?
"Cloud?"
Slowly opening his eyes, the young man turned to face the doctor, his face drawn and tired.
"Talk to me. What happened? What did you see?" Cloud dropped his head, unwilling to recount the horrific, vivid images that tormented his soul.
"The end of my world." he muttered, turning his body away and wrapping his arms around his knees. He shuddered once more.
The doctor stared at Cloud's back, unsure of what to say or even if he should say anything at all. The end of his world? Cloud's world? The doctor wondered what that would be like. What could be so utterly horrific, so unspeakable that it would render this strong man helpless as he trembled and claimed his world was falling apart?
Could he really give Cloud the help he needed? He didn't know.
All the doctor knew, as he watched the traumatised man rock himself, was that he had to help him. No matter how hard. No matter the cost.
Cloud left two days later. He went back to Seventh Heaven, back to Tifa and the kids. Back to his life.
Things seemed to be going okay.
Tifa had given him funny looks, but hadn't bothered to ask questions this time. Secretly, she felt a part of her was giving up on waiting for Cloud. It was unlikely that he'd ever come around, unlikely that he'd ever be there when she needed him. There had been a time, once, when she could have relied on him. But no longer. She had to move on.
Cloud truly seemed to be making an effort this time. He spent less and less time alone, preferring human company to the foreboding silence and threatening hallucinations. Denzel and Marlene revelled in their time spent together, ecstatic that Cloud had finally come back into their lives. Each day, he spent a couple of hours playing with them, just talking to them or just watching them sleep.
Tifa did not understand Cloud's new behaviour. She was glad he was making an effort, but could not help but wonder. He seemed happier. A lot happier. And perhaps freer. But something was still wrong. She saw the expression on his face, whenever she caught a glimpse of him alone. An expression that told of deep, wrenching pain and a solid fear.
What was he running from?
The hallucinations seemed to be held at bay. Cloud really only suffered from nightmares now. Of course, there was the odd hallucination here and there, but only when he let himself be alone for too long. Sometimes he would think he caught a glimpse of Aerith standing behind Tifa, as he played with the kids, but the image was always gone when he looked again.
This new tactic from his doctor seemed to be working. Perhaps the doctor was right. Perhaps Cloud could be free. Perhaps he could smile again one day. Perhaps...
And then it happened. The reminder that Cloud was not as free as he thought he was.
Cloud sat with Denzel and Marlene in the lounge room. They were deciding what game they should play. Denzel voted for Snap, Marlene wanted Snakes and Ladders and Cloud didn't care. Tifa smiled as she brought them a tray of snacks.
"Come on, Marlene! Snap is so much cooler than Snakes and Ladders!" Denzel argued as he reached for a biscuit. Cloud watched in mild amusement as Marlene huffed and folded her arms resolutely.
"No it's not! You don't know anything, Denzel!"
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah!"
Cloud stopped listening. His eyes fixed on Denzel's hand. The boy lifted the biscuit to his mouth, not noticing as it turned into a liquid, crimson and terrifying. It clung to his fingers, slowly spreading up his arm.
The blood in Cloud's veins ran cold. No. Not this. Not Denzel. He was imagining it! He had to be! Yet he could not convince himself that the graphic scene before his eyes was a hallucination.
"Denzel!" Cloud cried and lunged forward, grabbing the boy's arm just above the flow of the evil, growing blood.
"What?" Denzel looked up in surprise.
"It's alright Denzel, I'm going to save you. I won't let him hurt you!"
"Cloud? What are you talking about?"
Steeling himself, Cloud slid his hand down Denzel's arm, trying to scrape the blood off. Instead, the blood clung to him and began spreading. Fear in his eyes, Cloud looked back up at Denzel. The blood had reached the young boy's neck.
"Cloud?" Denzel sounded nervous, almost scared.
"Why is this happening?" Cloud shouted at no-one as he began to scrape at the blood, trying to stop it from advancing any further. A harsh laugh echoed in his ears, terrifying him straight through. "No!" Cloud tore at himself, scratching deeply and he struggled and writhed.
"Cloud! Stop it!" Tifa ran out of the other room, grabbing him and fighting against his crazed actions.
"No! I have to defeat him! I have to win!" Cloud shouted back, no longer understanding what he was saying or what was happening.
"Cloud!" Tifa drew back a hand, then let it fly. The resounding slap had the desired effect. The children gasped, staring wide-eyed. Cloud stood there, his hands shaking as Tifa glared at him, fists clenched.
"What's happening to you?"
The ex-SOLDIER didn't reply.
"Cloud! What's going on? What were you doing? Why don't you talk to me anymore? Why can't you just open up and tell me so I can help you? Please Cloud! You're scaring me!"
"Just leave me alone!"
He bolted. Cloud ran as hard and as fast as he could. The door was left open in his wake, swinging on the hinges. Tifa just moaned hopelessly and dropped her head in her hands as they heard the engine roar to life, before tearing off down the street.
"Tifa?" Marlene's soft, scared voice piped up. Tifa looked up. "What's going on? I'm scared."
Sighing, Tifa sat down next to the children. She pulled Marlene into her lap and drew Denzel to her side.
"I don't really know what's going on. But I think Cloud's in trouble. Like, he needs some help. So we have to make sure that he gets the help, okay?"
"What kind of help?"
"I'm not sure. But I'm going to find out."
It was almost midnight when he returned. The kids were fast asleep. No lights were on in the house. Silently, he crept towards the stairs.
"Cloud. We need to talk." The voice came from behind him. He sighed. Tifa.
"What do you want to talk about?" Cloud asked, resigned.
"You know what I want to talk about! Something's been bothering you for a long time now, hasn't it? You've been trying to hide it. But today it finally caught up with you, didn't it? Cloud, talk to me. I just want to help. Please. I'm worried! And so are the kids. Don't make us worry anymore. Let's do something about this. We want to help you."
"I'm sorry Tifa. I didn't mean to scare you like that. And the kids... I'll make it up to them."
"Just another promise then, huh? Cloud, stop giving yourself a reason to need to make things up to us! I just..." Tifa sighed and hung her head, "I don't want the kids to be disappointed anymore, Cloud."
"Is that what I am?" He swung around to face her.
"No, Cloud-"
"Is that really what you think of me? A disappointment?"
"Sometimes, yes!" They stood there in the dark, glaring at each other. Tifa began to regret her words, but knew she could not take them back. After all, they were true.
"I just mean Cloud, if you don't address the issue, then the problem's not going to go away. I don't want you to be a disappointment. So let me help you."
Cloud began to turn away.
"I don't need your help."
"Cloud-"
"Here." He tossed her a small box. "I went to a doctor. He said the hallucination was a side-effect from something I ate. He gave me those pills to take every couple of hours for the next day. You know. Just until that food's outta my system. So there's nothing to worry about, Tifa. I've gotten help. I'm going to be fine. Just some bad food." The foul taste of such a bold lie lay thickly on his tongue.
Tifa sighed and rubbed her temple with one hand.
"Oh, Cloud. What am I gonna do with you?" Stepping forward, she gave him a gentle, apologetic hug and handed the box back.
Not saying another word, they both headed upstairs to their rooms. Tifa shook her head as she closed her door and climbed into bed. That Cloud! He would be the death of her.
The room was shrouded in darkness, the only faint light emitting from the phone that sat on the bedside table. Blinking, slowly, alerting him that there was an unread message, waiting for his attention.
Cloud sat on the edge of his bed, staring straight ahead and ignoring the blinking phone. His fists were clenched into tense balls and his face was tight, betraying the underlying stress he was feeling. Here, in the darkness, he did not have to worry about what others thought of him. He did not have to feel their eyes on his back, or listen to their whispers. No-one could see him. It was his sanctuary.
Or was it?
A light hand rested on his shoulder, playing with the fabrics covering his skin. Cloud swallowed hard, but refused to turn around.
"Cloud?"
She spoke. It was the first time she had spoken. Why? What did she want with him? Why did she come here?
Why was he allowing himself to believe her illusion?
Cloud grit his teeth as she tugged again. Her weight dipped the bed as she sat next to him. Sniffs came first, followed by soft sobs. The dull ache inside Cloud's chest wrenched painfully.
"I'm scared, Cloud. Please, help me!"
Tilting his head upwards slightly, as if summoning strength from the darkness around him, Cloud steeled himself.
"You're not real, Aerith. I know you're not really here. I'm just imagining it. So go away! Leave! And don't come back!"
She pulled back slightly, the pain obvious in her body language, even before she spoke.
"What? Cloud, what are you talking about? Please-"
"Just go!" he snapped, before lowering his voice, "Haven't you done enough damage already?"
The first tremors began, running through her hand into his shoulder. Cloud slowly closed his eyes and grit his teeth. How could he do this to her? He felt like a monster!
"C-cloud!" Aerith whimpered.
Something trickled down his shoulder, dripping onto his lap. Reluctant to know exactly what it was, Cloud let it drip for a while before finally opening his eyes and looking down. His heart sank and a bitter taste rose in his mouth.
Blood.
"Cloud, help me! Please!"
Unable to stop himself, he looked over at Aerith. What he saw made him panic.
"No! Aerith!"
A huge, gaping wound lay in her chest, the blood spilling forth from it. Cloud couldn't tear his eyes away. It was the wound Sephiroth had given her, when he killed her...
"Cloud... save me..."
A thin crimson line ran from her mouth, down her neck, arm and onto Cloud's shoulder. Cloud drew a shaky breath as her grip wilted and her hand fell. Unable to ignore her anymore, he lunged forward and grabbed her, gathering the dying girl in his trembling arms.
"Aerith! Aerith! Oh, Aerith, I'm sorry! Please, live!"
Her hand reached up and touched his face, leaving a red smear behind.
"Cloud... thankyou..." The young woman's eyes slid shut and a final sigh escaped her lips.
"No... Aerith!" Cloud felt himself close to tears. Not again. She had died, again! And he was still unable to save her. Why? Why was this happening?
The room started to vibrate, then shake. A low rumble began to rise, becoming a hideous, cruel laugh. Cloud's head whipped up.
"You again? Why? Why would you do this? You're dead!"
Just like Aerith, huh?
"Just stop! What do you want from me? Leave me alone!" Cloud screamed at the blackness.
The weight disappeared from his arms. Looking down, a chill washed over him as he saw that Aerith was gone. All that remained were bloodstains. Cloud rubbed his fingers together. The blood smudged. His breathing ragged, he left the room and headed for the back door. He would get no more sleep tonight.
The young ex-SOLDIER shouldered the light pack and stared out over the rugged landscape. It was just as ugly, yet beautiful, as he remembered. Flicking his overgrown black hair out of his face, he smiled. The corners of his brilliant blue eyes crinkled, an innocent twinkle gleaming brightly.
Finally. At long last, he would be able to start the future he had dreamed about, ever since leaving Shinra. There was only one thing left to do. Only one person left to find. One person, who was still alive.
"Alright then, Cloud. Just hang in there a little while longer. I'm coming. Besides, you didn't really think I'd abandon a Grunt like you in a world like this, did'ya?" the man muttered under his breath, imagining his friend's reaction.
Unable to wipe the smile off his face, he pulled the Buster Sword out of the ground, slung it on his back and headed down to the town. The sword wouldn't be needed up here anymore. There was no grave left to mark. The living did not need gravestones.
Zack Fair had returned.
