Hello everyone! I've reposted this chapter because ChaoticSymphony made a very good point, that I should focus more on the descriptions in order to make my story more convincing. For those who've already read this chapter, I made major changes in the first half of the chapter, in the scenes, not flashbacks. Some changes might alter your initial view of the chapter, so please look through them. Thank you, everyone! I hope you enjoy the revised version of Chapter 4!
Permanent
By UnfalteringDream
Chapter 4: The Second Circle (Part II)
Someone was shaking her, hard. The dry ground seemed to churn in torrential waves and the very air was thick and reeked of vile sweat. But as the person kept calling her, the sensations creeping over her skin that once seemed to overwhelm her grew weaker and her strength returned. Her eyelids were heavy but she forced her eyes open to have a familiar face come into view. "Vincent…?" she whispered, feeling a thick bundle of emotion rise in her throat.
"Tifa. Hurry, you have to get up."
"I… Vincent, thank God." Her throat closed up as she sobbed in relief, gripping his arms tight. She was expecting… to be drowning in a sea of mako? Having all her assailants rip her to shreds? Or worse, being violated by that despicable Don Corneo?
"I'll explain as we move. But now, you have to try to stand up."
She strained on aching muscles and with his help, managed to her feet, albeit her legs were still shaky. She looked at her body to find her clothes and gloves back on and touched her healed chest. She flexed her arm and felt the warmth of materia magic under her skin. It was as if nothing had happened. But she still felt the dry trail of tears on her cheeks.
"Quickly," Vincent said, already melting into the shadows along the walls. Shaking off the dread and anger she had felt from her last encounter with Don Corneo, Trevor and Damon, she patted the Cloudy Wolf ring in her pocket and followed Vincent down the dark hallway. Wind passed through the walls in slow, shallow breaths and she covered her nose because the air was humid with human sweat. Little light could crawl into the place, so Tifa kept her squinting eyes trained on the flowing movement of Vincent's blood-red cape.
A scream was pulled from her throat as a demon's claw caught her leg. Relinquishing her fear to the pull of instinct, she silenced the howling demon with a rush of punches. Several more arose from the sullied earth, with gaping eye-sockets, long, luxurious hair and the full, voluptuous bodies of women, save for a minor change. Her stomach twisted in disgust but she found she could not peel her eyes away. Their breasts had been sliced clean off. Their rib bones protruded from the place where their breasts should have been, like gleaming teeth against the glaring red gums of their cut flesh. The wretched souls convulsed and caressed their wounds as they moved but an eternity of tending the gash on their bodies and the ache in their hearts could never bring relief.
Vincent shot at them without mercy but Tifa didn't have the luxury of a far-ranged weapon. The feel of her knuckles impacting flesh was too reminiscent of the days she would kill for an unsure cause. From the day she buried her past, she had vowed never to hurt a defenseless person, let alone women. And these demons were such a perversion of souls that were once human that Tifa felt such a strong surge of pity for their tortured state that she almost turned tail and ran from this manifestation of her greatest weakness. After the journey ended, she had piled the role of mother, wife and business owner onto the filth of her past. She spent years nursing the guilt that plagued her from her sins, taking baby steps forward up a steep mountain; she was sliding backwards with each knockout blow she delivered, feeling more and more like the ruthless killer she once was.
It took Tifa a long time to realize that they were trying to communicate something to her.
Jussst… loved him. Jusssst wanted to give… my beloved sssssomething.
Pleassssse… help me. I jusssst couldn't help… myssssself.
It wasssss jussssst work… Pleasssse, my family… needed the money!
Sensing her increasing growing hesitation, Vincent shouted above the wailing and gunshots, "Don't listen to them! These wretched souls are eternally damned to the second circle of hell! They are no longer human!" With a powerful swing of his gun, so much blood poured through the clean cut that Tifa had a memory of Denzel bursting a water balloon in the kitchen. Denzel! Look at all this water! You're going to mop this up, young man! She shook her head, grasping for her fleeting sanity.
I was beautiful! Now look at me! My beautiful breasts! One voice rang clear as a bell above the others. Her body was bare save for an outrageous, exposing costume. A large fake stinger was attached to her hips and miniature wings were strapped to her shoulders. A headdress replicating a bee's eyes and antennas sat on fair hair. I didn't want to do it! Don Corneo; he broke me! He lied and said the Honeybee Inn would provide for me!
"Vincent! She is a victim of Don Corneo!" Tifa gripped the girl's shoulders, trying not to recoil at the feel of cold, rotting flesh disguised as living skin.
Vincent shouted, "Tifa, look out!" as a gut-wretching pain exploded in Tifa's chest, so terrible that she could not even scream. The demon had dragged its claws down her left breast, pulling more than half of the tender flesh along with it. Tifa shoved the demon away from her, channeling the black magic in her arm as the pain in her chest momentarily vanished against the mighty force of the lifestream using her body as a temple for its will. Light burst in radiant fury, drowning the shrieks of damned souls in its might but it ended abruptly. The lightening attack was weak and fizzled out too soon. The voices of the Ancients strained faintly in her ear before disappearing altogether.
"We're wasting time!" Vincent admonished and Tifa's heart jumped at the urgency in his tone. She raised her fists with renewed energy but kept a hand cradling her shredded breast. There were so many of them, each of their screams trenchant and shrill as they descended upon them with claws outstretched. Having only enough strength left to summon magic, Tifa strained to call upon the lifestream, only to be answered with silence. "My materia, it's not working!" Tifa realized. Vincent only mumbled, "I was afraid of this."
A great force beat through the ground beneath their feet and the demons stopped their attacks. From somewhere unfathomable, inhumane shrieks sounded. Tifa stumbled backward into Vincent, her ears filled with a foreboding rumbling.
A wind picked up, so great that Tifa felt as if her hair was being pulled out from the roots and her skin was peeling away from her bones. Acting quickly, Vincent dug his claw into the ground and used his human hand to grab Tifa's. He pulled her beneath him and shielded her body with his until the hurricane passed and the shrieks faded.
Once he stood, Vincent ripped a piece of fabric off his cape. He knelt next to Tifa, prying her hand away from her bloody chest. "The wound's deep," he said apologetically, wincing at the gruesome sight. He could only imagine how much it must hurt. The fabric around her chest will have to suffice. "We have to move. Minos is here, he can tell us where Cloud is." At the mention of Cloud, Tifa's eyes focused and the pain dulled against the vigorous pounding of her heart.
"How come you didn't wear this on the honeymoon?"
Tifa looked up from the dishes at Yuffie's innocent inquiry. "Oh my—" she squeaked and snatched the offensive article of clothing, turning a brilliant shade of red. "Yuffie! Where did you get this?"
"I found it in your drawer, of course!" the hyperactive ninja grinned and then slammed her hands on the spotless counter. Despite her chagrin, Tifa wanted to scold the younger woman for leaving fingerprints on the counter she had just painstakingly wiped. But she was more in favor of pointedly avoiding Yuffie's serious gaze.
"Listen Tifa. Everybody knows that though Chocobo-head is practically bursting with testosterone—I mean, look at the way he fights!-, he can't express his feelings to a girl he likes to save his life! Heck, look at how long it took you two to get hitched! Gosh, I don't know how you waited so long! If I were you, I would've been all over that hot piece of—"
"Yuffie!" If possible, Tifa's cheeks turned even redder. "Lower your voice; the kids are sleeping and he's going to be walking in any minute!" Though Cloud usually got home from his deliveries well after 7th Heaven closed and Tifa had gone to bed to wait for him, Yuffie didn't need to know that.
"What? I'm just telling you the honest truth. Anyhoo, the reason why I bring this up is this: If he ever saw you in THIS—"she grabbed the outfit from Tifa's clutches to dangle it in front of her. "—He wouldn't have waited all those stinkin' years to 'fess up to you. Seriously."
Tifa buried her burning face in her hand and then groaned when she realized that her hands were still soapy from the dishes. As she washed the soap off her face, Yuffie continued, unabashed in her comments.
"What is this, a skanky cowgirl outfit? Do you have matching boots, too? Wow, look at this top! Only someone with your cup size could look good in it. And look at this skirt—it's so cute! And short! It could rival your skirt from our AVALANCHE days! God knows you had all the guys drooling then, but if they all saw you in THIS-"
"Yuffie!" Tifa cut in, her hands gripping the counter (Oh well, it was already dirtied!). "Please put that outfit back where you found it."
"Why? Cloud had a long day of deliveries today, why don't you wear it for him when he gets home?" She waggled her eyebrows suggestively.
"Yuffie…"
"Come on! Fulfill the poor guy's fantasies once in a while! You know, men won't stay if you don't—"
"Wait. Fantasies?"
"Yeah. Don't you know?" Yuffie looked at her wide-eyed. "You didn't know that Cloud has a cowgirl fetish?"
"What?" Tifa was flabbergasted. "Why would—who—where did you get that ridiculous idea?"
"It's not ridiculous, it's true! When we used to camp out during our whirlwind adventures and Cid would take the first watch, he said he heard Cloud mumbling in his sleep about some girl looking cute in a cowgirl outfit but he was too embarrassed to talk to her for some reason. Something about not keeping a promise to her or something. Cid said that it happened often enough to be branded as a fetish. I was going to tell you about this dream cowgirl and how you should fulfill his fantasy on your honeymoon night but silly me, I completely forgot until I raided your drawer and lo-and-behold! A deluxe cowgirl outfit that is the epitome of any guy's dreams! Tifa, I'm telling you as one woman to another. You gotta dress up as that cowgirl to erase all that terrible feeling of longing for what he can't have. You gotta show him that that girl's not real but you are. That you're better than some skanky, prepubescent—oh yeah, he would mumble how great she looked though she was only 15! Ew, I never knew Cloud was a pedophile!—dream girl who couldn't hold a candle to your assets!"
"Yuffie… it's getting late," Tifa muttered, the light of revelation settling in her eyes.
"Ugh, you're a tough cookie to crack, Tifa Lockheart. Fine. Lose out to that fake dream girl. You better hope Cloud snaps out of his fetish soon, or else your marriage might be in trouble!"Yuffie warned before getting off the bar stool and bouncing out the door but not before shooting Tifa a meaningful look. Tifa gave her a small smile and a wave.
"These pitiful souls are swept helplessly through the gales of wind, never hoping for rest." Vincent answered her unspoken question as they made their way through the dank, open corridor. The storm raged in the distance, seeming to conquer the dark heavens with the despair of all caught in its ire. "No hope ever comforts them, not of repose, not of less pain. This is the punishment for them having been swept into sin by their insatiable desires."
Because the hurricane winds had ripped off the roof, Tifa could now glance about her surroundings. She caught fleeting glimpses of carvings that made her skin crawl: women, men and animals engaged in various acts of intercourse, with each other, with themselves, in all sorts of positions that defiled the beauty of joining two soul mates in matrimony. She tore her eyes away, the images burned into her mind's eye. Fornication, sodomy, homosexuality, all these things were depicted in detail on the walls of the second circle to represent the guilt of the ones that reside in them. She didn't know how she could take it, if she were to roam through hallways mapping out her sins, forced to live through all the evil she had done in her life over and over, for all eternity. Staying in that apartment alone, with nothing left to distract him, how much time has he had to suffer through his memories? Is it a wonder that he took his life? So our family wasn't enough of a distraction for him…
Tifa skidded to a halt as the corridor ended and her eyes rested upon an endless stream of humans, stripped of their clothes, lives, dignity and hope as they cried out their laments. So many bodies, clinging to their hope for redemption when they were already beyond hope. Their bare feet marched on the cold stone in the steady rhythm of shock. First at realizing that they're dead. Then at waking up in hell. Then at realizing that hell is just an extension of the painful reality of their own shambled lives.
Mom, what's going to happen to Mr. Fluffy?
Where all kitties go when they die: kitty heaven.
Will he know he's in heaven?
His death will be painless, so he probably won't even realize that he's dead at first. In fact, I'm sure his heaven is a replica of our home, where he's going to be waiting for us to join him. You see, heaven is just the place where you feel most happy. Except in heaven, there is no pain.
Vincent moved forward to join them as if in a trance, muttering below his breath: "Always before him many of them stand; they go by turns each one unto the judgment; they speak, and hear, and then are downward hurled." She wrapped her arms around herself as she hurried after him. It was so cold; wasn't hell supposed to be warm and fiery? But the souls damned to eternal pain didn't seem to notice such trivial details. Some walked the boundless stone bridge silently, still dignified in their nakedness, while others wept bitter tears into their desecrated hands. Even children, the ones most scared and shaking the hardest, were following the rest, sobbing loudly for their mothers. "Dear God," Tifa couldn't suppress her gasp. What have they done in their short lives to deserve this?
One little girl who didn't look older than five years old, with dirty brown hair matted to her head and neck with grime and clutching her bare tummy with little hands, kept crying out in between much hiccups and sniffling, "Mommy! I can't find you! Where are you, Mommy?" Tifa, I'm here. It was just a bad dream, Mommy's here.
A booming voice from the far end of the line announced their sins. Echoing screams followed each. Heresy. Avarice. Gluttony. Suicide.
"Judgment awaits them at the end of the line," Vincent's clicking-clacking footsteps were a sharp contrast to the soft patter of feet. "Minos, the judge of the dead, assigns them to their circle of hell."
I wondered if I could continue living the way I was., Tifa thought as Vincent gave her a fleeting look of remorse. If someone else asked me the same question then I would answer that they should live on no matter what happened. But for myself, I was never so sure. One day, am I to receive judgment for my sins? Am I going to be marching down this same bridge from my happy fantasy of a life to the true reality God has deemed for me?
No, there is still time to repent and atone for sins, because… "We're still alive," she said, more to herself than to him. "We are not the ones waiting to be judged."
She nearly walked into the soul in front of her before she realized that the line of damned sinners had stopped walking and quieted. One by one, they turned their faces to her. Somehow, she would have preferred to see taut skin stretched over hollow cheekbones, sunken eyes, dry, chapped lips, and greasy, thin strands of hair. As a cold hand seized her heart, she recognized the familiar set of brown eyes framed by raven-black hair around a pale face. The similarity was down to the single pearl earring they wore on their left ear. The five year old girl stopped sniffling, turning to her with a pearl earring swinging by her ears, looking at her with large brown eyes puffy from crying.
I don't deserve this… I don't deserve this… I don't deserve this…. They hissed in that familiar voice, in that familiar tone, with that familiar ting of sorrow around the edges. "Ignore them," Vincent said, but the accusations seeped through her skin.
After Yuffie left, she fingered the soft fabric, feelings of both revulsion and wistfulness bubbling to the surface of her memories. What seemed like ages ago, she had heard from her neighbors that some first class SOLDIERs were coming to her hometown and naturally, her pulse jumped at the thought of seeing Cloud again. Of course, he must have had plenty of admirers that all vied for his attention, and she worried day and night over how to have him notice her. And so, she shyly pulled out the cowgirl outfit she had bought without her father's permission and reminded herself that in order to win a man's heart, she had to use all the weapons in her arsenal.
But when her father did catch her in the outfit, he accused her of being a slut and secretly having sex with every boy in the village. After all, that explained why all her friends were male. Tifa vehemently disagreed and tried to tell him that the real reason was to impress the only boy that she had ever loved. But he didn't listen and neither did any of her so-called friends. And on the night of her 15th birthday, Trevor and Damon showed their true repulsive colors. After tearing the note to shreds, Tifa hugged herself in the corner of her room. She didn't deserve this. She was just an innocent girl in love.
She had been so young then, not sure how to act and dress around men and therefore getting plenty of unwanted attention from admiring men and slandering women. She spent years nursing the hurt and humiliation at the hands of her peers and strangers who looked at her like a piece of meat rather than a human being. But the ring on her finger was testament that somebody loved for more than her looks. And that somebody was her beloved lifelong hero with gentle eyes and sunshine hair.
Long after the bar closed, Cloud Strife trudged into the house through the garage door, itching to wash off the thick layer of grime and sweat encrusted on his skin. After taking a quick shower and tiptoeing past the kids' room, he opened the door of his and Tifa's bedroom slowly, careful not to make it squeak. His mako-enhanced eyes fixed on the bundle in the bed; he smiled softly as he turned to leave for his office bed so as not to disturb her sleep.
"And where do you think you're going?" A husky voice sent shivers of pleasure down his spine. As he turned back to the 'sleeping' bundle on the bed, his baby-blue eyes widened comically. Tifa bit back a giggle at the sight of Cloud staring shamelessly at her with his tongue all but hanging out. Though they were both well into their twenties, she felt 15 again and Cloud was practically radiating teenage hormones.
"Te…Teef? Wh…what are you wearing?" he stuttered and swallowed with a loud gulp.
"Feeling hot and bothered?" she teased, looking at him from under long eyelashes. He smiled nervously and pulled at the neck of his black turtleneck. She drew close to him slowly, her boots thump thumping on the floor, smiling guilelessly as she said, "A little birdie told me that you used to dream about some cute cowgirl." He looked so cute when he was all shy and embarrassed like a boy caught stealing a cookie. "Teef, you should know that that cute cowgirl was you back in Nibelheim," he mumbled, peering at her through his bangs, his hand scratching the back of his head.
"Oh, I know," she giggled as her long fingers played with the zipper on his turtleneck. He sucked in a sharp breath and she pressed her lips to his, muttering, "I just wanted to know I hadn't dressed to impress in vain."
The judge named Minos peered at Tifa and Vincent through hollow eye-sockets, his massive tail flicking the ground like a whip, sending tremors through the ground. His eternally decaying skin was stretched thin across his protruding cheekbones, his tail lined with dark scales. "Ones of the living?" his emphatic voice resounded over the howling storm. "Who are you?"
"I am here to retrieve the soul of Cloud Strife," Tifa said firmly, taking the several steps forward to be face to face with the grotesque Minos. She hoped that he could see the resolve and honesty in her gaze. Laughter erupted from behind her and her hands clenched into fists. Still, they used her own voice to mock her. Vincent was silent beside her.
"Please, tell me where you sent him."
"I sense only a traitor, a glutton, a murderer, an attempted suicide… and you are branded by the whores," his bony finger was pointed at her chest. "You are foolish to think you can save the soul of another, when yours is already so thoroughly damned!"
She fell to her knees in anguish at the clear verdict of her sins. The laughter behind her grew as Vincent stepped forward. "Please, tell us where to find the soul of Cloud Strife!"
"Where all suicides go to suffer for all eternity."
"What circle?" Vincent pressed.
"She can pass no further," Minos roared, slamming his mighty tail into the ground. "For the many that she had caused to be damned to the second circle, she must join them as punishment for her sin!"
At once, Tifa was swept up by winds so forceful, it felt like she was drowning in a cold sea. She vaguely felt Vincent's hand brush hers before several hands pulled her into the current. The violent winds tore through her clothes, whipping her. "No!" she tried to scream but nothing came out of her gasping mouth. She felt Don Corneo's grubby fingers gripping her waist tight and smelled his foul breath on her face. Countless hands were grabbing at her clothes and pulling her hair.
"Embrace your fate, Tifa Lockheart!" Trevor and Damon's voices poured into her fleeting consciousness. "You are damned to the second circle of hell for what you had done to us! You made us into the monsters we are!" She couldn't breathe, the wind was too strong and she felt the lure of eternal sleep like a siren call.
Her torn breast burned.
There was a time when Cloud arrived home early from his day of deliveries and sat himself at a corner table with his map spread, charting his route for the next day. His sword was leaned against the wall beside his table, but out of the way so Tifa wouldn't trip over it. Though he used the excuse of preferring the light from the bar than his dim office light (though he had a bright lamp), his real reason for sitting so close to the counter, where Tifa busied herself with orders, was to proclaim his role as the alpha male of the family. Because 7th Heaven was a bar, there were always those sleaze-balls that tried something. Especially since the bartender could make a man turn weak in the knees with one look from those warm brown eyes.
He smiled as stopped in front of him to place a glass of water on his table, carefully away from his map, and gave him a peck on the cheek. That earned him more jealous looks from some pitiful bachelors at table 5, but Cloud had never felt more grateful to have Tifa as his wife. With a body like the promised land, a personality like whipped cream on hot chocolate and a smile like sunshine on a cloudy day (pun intended), he still felt an inkling of fear that this was all just a wonderful dream and one day he would wake up cold and alone in an empty apartment with only vestiges of Tifa, Marlene and Denzel to comfort him.
"Wow," a patron at the table next to him gave a low whistle. "Look at those legs, mm!" Cloud knew exactly whom the man was talking about and his grip on his pen tightened.
"Wow, and that chest! She looks like a cover girl for Playboy magazine, eh?" the man laughed and his friend agreed heartedly. "Hey, I heard from Johnny that she's got a lil' outfit from her teenage years—a cowgirl outfit! Haha! I heard that as soon as he took one look at her, he had to run home and take a cold shower! A girl that dresses like that is definitely asking for it! Heh, the village slut. Not that I'm complaining, you know what I mean?"
Cloud was seeing red. The pen had snapped in his hand and the ink was running down his fist. He kept reminding himself that the man and his friend were patrons at the bar that was currently helping pay the bills, but his instinct was overruling his rational mind.
"Someone who looks like her must be worth a lot. Maybe this is only her day job. She probably gives a lot of business to the local whorehouse, huh? How much do you think she is for a night? You think she'll be willing to give me a free sample since I only got 10 gil left on me—"
Cloud's hand was clamped around the man's thick neck, his other hand clenching the hilt of his sword so hard that his fingers were white. "Hey, what the hell, man?" The man's friend shouted, but his face paled once he noticed Cloud's sword. Cloud couldn't hear anything because there was an angry buzzing in his ear as he squeezed the man's neck harder and harder, lifting his sword to prepare for a death blow.
"Cloud! What are you doing?" Tifa's angry voice shook him out of his haze and Cloud let go of the man's throat. The pathetic piece of lard choked and wheezed, his face turning from an unhealthy purple to a flushed pink. His friend clambered away as soon as Cloud took a step back once he realized that all the other customers were gone as well. Denzel and Marlene had come running down the staircase in their nightgowns, as wide-eyed as frightened does.
"Cloud!" Tifa scolded, her eyes flashing. "You scared away all the customers! What has gotten into you? Oh, sir, I'm so sorry," she said, kneeling down with an apologetic frown.
"Don't go near that bastard," Cloud growled like the possessive alpha-wolf he was. The man took one look at the sword in Cloud's hand and scrambled to his feet, sprinting out the door. After Tifa reassured the children that everything was alright and shooed them back to bed, she turned to look at her husband, placing a hand on his heaving chest in an effort to calm him. "Cloud?" she simply asked, directing his dazed blue eyes to hers as she raised her hand to his left cheek. Just like that, her initial angry melted to worry and understanding. Her other hand came to rest on his right cheek, her eyes searching his and she breathed softly, desperately, "Come back to me." Gods, he loved her.
"You're not like that," he muttered. She furrowed her eyebrows. "Not like what?"
"Like THAT," he said stubbornly. And she knew she wasn't getting more out of him, so she just gave her soft smile and allowed him to draw her close to him. Resting his face in the crook of her neck, he breathed in her sweet scent.
"You saved yourself for me." She was confused, but stayed silent so he would continue. "That night, the night of our honeymoon, you gave your whole self to me, trusting me. After I left Nibelheim, you didn't know if I would come back. When we met again, I wasn't acting like myself and I was cold to you. We nearly died so many times. And yet, you saved yourself for me and me alone."
"It was always only you, Cloud," she whispered into his hair and his heartbeat skipped to double time at her confession.
"All those men, they don't know." She tugged at his hair to lift his head so she could see honest blue eyes. He kissed her so tenderly it made her heart ache. "I promise to blind all those men who had defiled you with their eyes, body and mind. They only see a woman too beautiful to be faithful, to be real. But I see you, Tifa Strife. You're a lifelong dream come true."
The back of her eyes burned when the memory punctured the numbness. No, she couldn't give up. She was not responsible for the damnation of these souls. Their sin was of their own will. If anything, Cloud had made it clear why he once loved her. She didn't belong here.
"NO!" It burst out of her, echoing like a vindication and with a mighty swing of her legs, Trevor and Damon let go with a savage shriek. But Don Corneo acted quickly, grabbing her arms and holding them tight behind her as other lustful demons pulled off her leather gloves and tried to grab onto her legs. Tangled like this, the winds lashed them through the air without hope of rest or escape. Tifa's mind raced, trying to think despite the deafening gale in her ears and her burning chest. Her gloves were gone and her materia wasn't working. She needed something that could cut tissue and tear flesh open.
"Give it up! You are mine for all eternity! How I've waited for this day!" Don Corneo howled, his true demonic form bubbling up from under his human guise. "Abandon all hope of escape! You're—AHHH!" With all her might, Tifa twisted his arms holding her hands, reached into her apron pocket for her Cloudy Wolf ring and slipped it on.
As Don Corneo scrambled to reach for her again, she drew the hand with the ring back, every ounce of energy from her body inundating her veins to gather in that clenched fist. It was not like using materia magic, but Tifa felt a power surge from inside her, so overwhelming that she could not contain it any longer. With an animalistic cry, Tifa lurched forward, watching Don Corneo's pupils dilate as her powerful fist closed in on them.
Even the punishments of hell are not enough for the monster that you are, she thought as she kicked off on his body, her forearms crossed in front of her face as a shield as she broke free from the prevailing hurricane snaking through the air. The demonic soul of Don Corneo was screaming terribly, holding his face with his hands as warm blood gushed through his fingers, leaving a stream of red trailing behind him like some gruesome shooting star.
Once, a sunshine prince had given her a shy smile as she knighted him with a promise. Cloud, you always did keep your promises.
After flipping through the air to land on steady ground, she tried to stand too quickly and felt a wave of nausea swell in her stomach. When Vincent finally reached her side, she was keeled over, choking on her own vomit. The acrid smell of blood and bile drying in her hair and on her clothes caused several additional bouts of dry heaves.
"Tifa—"
"Do you know where he is?"
"Tifa, it's not too late to turn back. It will only get worse. And besides, your chest…"
"Is fine. Please, tell me where he is, Vincent."
"Minos is outraged. We are of the living, it's not yet our time—"
She stood swiftly, grabbing his shoulders with a hysterical gleam in her eyes. "WHERE IS CLOUD?"
The effort from shouting brought about another vomiting fit. Vincent knelt before her, placing a hand on her shoulder as he watched her struggle to breathe, a ghastly rose blossoming through the fabric on her chest.
"Suicide woods. The seventh circle."