Disclaimer: Hasn't changed.
I'm glad I could inspire a squee of happiness! My updates are starting to fall behind... I started typing this up much later than usual -sweats-.
This chapter is the reason this story is rated M. Blood, gore, body parts flying everywhere. Proceed with caution. It did turn out a lot more mild than I thought it would (I watch a lot of horror movies) but I think that's mostly because I'm not used to writing action scenes...
And a final note: Vincent and Sephiroth have telekinetic abilities. Remember in the original FF7 game where Vincent's coffin lid flew up into the air whenever it open/closed? Well, we're calling that telekinesis. And all that wingless flying Sephiroth always does? Yeah, we're calling that telekinesis too.
(Gah, 12:11 AM. So tired. Sorry for the late update D: And sorry for typos and general crappiness.)
Hojo slammed the phone into its cradle violently before sighing tiredly. That was one of the issues he had about working for a large corporation like Shinra. Sure they provided him with a fair amount of funding, but when they wanted something done... The scientist released another irritated sigh and pushed himself away from the wall's peeling, floral wallpaper. His shoes echoed through the narrow hallway as he made his way to the holding room. The darkness of the basement was deep and oppressing, but Hojo did not seem to notice. He was used to the black corridors and he was immersed in his frustrated thoughts. Weeks earlier he had been informed that the President wanted him to focus entirely on mako research and the Jenova Project. Hojo had thought the request had been unusual at the time; the President generally allowed him to do whatever he wished, as long as his more questionable projects were kept under wraps and away from the company's reputation. Now, however, he supposed he could understand the President's impatience. The situation in Wutai had become increasingly dire, the tension between the company and the country thick, and it was quite obvious they were dangerously close to an an all out war. Naturally, the President would want his army of super soldiers in top condition for the approaching war and if the Jenova Project continued to produce the kind of results it had been, Sephiroth could be key to Shinra's victory.
Finally reaching his destination, Hojo paused at the door. Deep in the gloom he could just barely see the outline of Valentine, sitting in the corner of his cell. Sephiroth might, arguably, be his most successful experiment, but Vincent was by far his favorite. Since he first started experimenting on the man, Hojo had been surprised by his resilience. Vincent had taken everything Hojo had to offer and though there were times Vincent had reacted negatively to the treatment, he had always recovered in the end. If the scientist was even mildly curious about a hypothesis, he could simply bring Vincent out and test his theories on him. The pale man was like an extremely durable guinea pig and Hojo had never seen anything quite like him.
"Well they refused my offer. They don't seem to think I can balance multiple projects at once." Hojo snorted indignantly and mumbled under his breath, "Idiots doubting my brilliance." He crossed his arms over his chest and continued at normal volume, "So I will have to stop all my projects momentarily, except for the Jenova Project, of course."
The dark head in the corner lifted curiously and cold, black eyes met glowing red. Vincent was not sure exactly what Hojo meant, but he certainly would not mind a break from the madman's experiments. His eyes narrowed slightly, Sephiroth was still a concern...
Hojo sighed, "Yes Vincent, I'll even have to stop my fun with you for the time being." He waited a few moments, but getting no response he started again. "I'll be moving to the Science Department's lab in Midgar. The boy and the Jenova specimen will be coming with me."
The pale man shifted slightly, but was otherwise unresponsive.
"You'll be staying here."
Vincent instantly rose from his spot on the floor, glaring darkly at the madman. Certainly Hojo did not think he could separate him from Sephiroth. "What?" he said, voice bordering on a growl.
The lenses on the scientist's face flashed as he turned away from the man's bloody stare. "They should be being moved...," he lifted his arm to glance at his watch. "Right about now actually," he finished casually.
Vincent's eyes widened and he rushed to the bars of his cell. The murmuring in his mind rose an ocvate as he wrapped his pale fingers around the cold, steel bars. He glared at the scientist's retreating back furiously, a growl building in his chest. Hatred burned in his stomach, the feeling spreading and twisting like some deadly poison in his blood. He pulled desperately at the bars, but they remained passive and motionless. Vincent could feel distress tugging at his heart and mind and as the feeling grew, so did the volume of the mumbling voices behind his eyes. He needed to get to Sephiroth, he thought franticly, he needed to get out of the cell, out of the manor.
He pulled at the bars again, his slender arms trembling with the effort, but the metal gave only slightly. His glowing eyes squeezed shut and howl of pure frustration was ripped from his throat. He needed to get the bars open, they were his only hope. The locking mechanism of the doors were far too complex for him to force open without a key. A dark voice screamed in his mind and Vincent pressed his eyelids shut so tightly, colors were flashing inside their darkness. He needed out, he needed out, he needed out, he thought furiously and his mind gave a great, mental push.
The bars in his hands abruptly bent outwards and Vincent opened his eyes in surprise. The bars in front of him had curved away from his body outwards and sideways, forming hole large enough for him to step through. A quick glance at the rest of the wall of bars showed that all of the bars had bent outward, like a giant bubble had forced them out of shape. Vincent did not dwell on the bars for long, however, and slipped through the hole and into the hallway quickly. Voices were rolling through his mind but he ignored them. He needed to get to the spiral staircase. He needed to get outside. And with a speed he had not known he possessed, he sprinted through the dark corridors, feet pounding the dark floor.
Dark hair was flying into his face, but he could see the distant form of Hojo rapidly growing closer. In moments he swiftly passed the man and hurried up the long staircase. He could hear the scientist's voice yelling for assistance, but he paid the man's cries no mind. Weaving through the rooms and hallways, he made it to the manors door and out, accelerating his already fast pace. At the manor's front steps he jumped, leaping the distance of the yard and clearing the dark, metal gate easily. He did not even register how inhuman the motion had been, his attention riveted on the head of shining silver he could see in the distance.
"Sephiroth!"
The boy turned at his name, recognizing the voice instantly. He tried to pull away from the crowd of people around him, but multiple pairs of gloved hands were pulling him towards the back of the dark van. Sephiroth was scared. It looked like they wanted him to get inside a cage and beside the cage there was a metal tank with a small window cut into its front. There was something about the purple glow of the window that caused the voices in his mind to shift restlessly and made his head throb.
He tugged harder, trying to get the hands to release his small arms. His struggling had forced the scientists to pause and he used the moment to fight even harder, open his mouth he yelled a reply, "Vincent! I don't want to go!"
The dark haired man tensed, there were so many of them. He could see dozens of pristine lab coats, surely the entire scientific force housed in the manor was present. He twitched suddenly as hands slipped over his arms and chest, fingers threaded themselves into his thin patient gown. Arms were locking around his neck and he could hear heavy breathing in both his ears, the sound slightly muffled by white medical masks.
Sephiroth watched in horror as more and more scientists swarmed Vincent, he reached an arm towards the man futilely. Tears burned in his eyes, if only he were stronger. "No! Vincent!"
Vincent lurched, hands were pulling his head backwards by the hair, but he could still see Sephiroth struggling to reach him. His heart clenched as he suddenly realized how desperately he needed the boy. A flickering candle in an endless, dark hallway. His anchor; the last remaining thread that kept him tied to sanity. He needed him, he needed Sephiroth safe. The voices churned and a snarl started low in his throat. His gums tingled and stretched, he could feel his teeth lengthening and his canines widening. There was a throbbing in his head that would not stop and his eyes rolled back at the pain, briefly catching the dark blue of the night sky above before being swallowed by the dark of his eyelids. A groan left his mouth and the hands on his body faded under a wave of agony.
Sephiroth renewed his struggles, feeling the same desperation Vincent had. He would not be separated from the only person who had ever shown him kindness. Vincent made Sephiroth feel strange, unknown emotions and it pained Sephiroth to think of a night where he could not feel Vincent's soft hands or hear his soothing voice. He grew worried as he watched Vincent oddly still. Something was wrong. "Vincent!" He yelled, anxiety in his voice.
Vincent could hear nothing but the murmurs in his mind. The voices were pressing against his skull painfully as if fighting for release. None of them seemed to be able to manifest completely, but the snarling voice was loudest, growling in his ear and filling his body with a strange heat. The other voices were far from silent, however. The unstable one was shrieking incessantly and Vincent could feel a terrible bloodlust rising within him. Cold fury was snaking into his chest, though the deep, slow speaking voice was only whispering in the back of his mind. The cunning one was strangely silent, but Vincent could feel its awareness, almost as if it were a quiet observer.
Dark hair whipped about his head and he released a ragged breath. The hands of the scientists slipped from his head. He pulled his arms forward and the gloved hands upon them fell away easily. Vincent's eyes slid open slowly and the dozens of scientists took a cautious step backward. The whites of the dark haired man's eyes had gone a cold black and the red irises had bled into a viciously luminescent orange. Even the scientists could tell there was something off about him; the way he hunched forward slightly, his panting, uneven breaths. The man's long hair hung around his face and ran down the length of his back. The pale back was rising up and down, sweat forming on the sections visible through the mostly-backless gown. One of the surrounding scientists blanched as he saw a shapeless form rise from the back, beneath the man's skin, shifting and traveling a short distance before sinking into the body once more.
Vincent whirled suddenly, eyes wide and angry. He caught a scientist on his right in the chest, his newly formed claws tearing through the man's chest like paper. He pushed forward, forcing his victim to stumble backwards, and sank his hand deeper into the warm cavity. Pulling the man close, he stared into his terrified eyes and grinned as a shrill cackle echoed through his mind. Vincent rubbed his cheek against scientist's own, ashen one, purring softly in the man's ear while Vincent's fingers flexed and wriggled in the warm, wet tissue of his body. Orange eyes brightened as a long claw caught on a familiar, pulsing organ and he wrapped his hand around it before pulling the man's heart straight from his chest, blood and loose tissue streaming out of the hole and into the air. The scientist crumpled to the ground at Vincent's feet, dead. Holding his prize triumphantly, Vincent turned to the remaining scientists behind him. A cruel smile split his face and two rows of sharp, white teeth glistened in the moonlight.
The scientists stared at Vincent, stupefied. He gazed back at them calmly. His mouth opened and a long, sharp tongue snaked out and licked a long trail across the heart in his hand. One of the men watching let lose a horrible cry and raced back towards the mansion. The rest followed after him and Vincent's glowing orange eyes narrowed tracing their movements silently. He let them run for a few seconds before dashing after them so quickly he was nothing but a blur.
One straggler met an unfortunate end as Vincent pounced on him first. The scientist's chest hit the ground with a loud thud and the pale man's sensitive ears heard the man's sharp exhale. A sharp-toothed mouth opened wide, a victorious howl piercing the cold night. Vincent lowered his mouth and sunk his teeth into the back of the man's soft neck. His jaw locked and he pulled his head back viscously, taking the man's esophagus and trachea with him. The beasts in his mind roared joyously at the taste of blood and Vincent found himself roaring with them. He felt strangely free, covered in life blood as he was.
He reached his stained-red right hand out suddenly. He got the last few scientists in his sights and pulled with his mind. They shouted in horror as they found themselves floating suspended in the air before they were sent flying backwards. Vincent crouched, calves and thighs taunt as he prepared to spring. He launched himself into the air, straight at the back of a female scientist. He flattened his hand, locked his fingers together, and plunged his arm right through her back and out the front, forcing bits of gore out through the cavity. Vincent's momentum carried them up, farther from the ground and he turned her over in the air so that he was above her body. Bracing his bare feet against the woman's torso, he pushed. His arm tore free of her chest and her body rocketed towards the ground. The corpse hit the lawn of the manor with violence and turned over several times, a red trail smearing the grass after it, before settling; sprawled at an awkward angle.
Still airborne, Vincent looked at the last two scientists and pulled them towards him with another mental tug. He curled into himself then snapped back out, back arching. Orbs of hot fire formed around him before exploding, ripping anguished screams from the scientists. The dark haired man fell back towards the ground and flipped gracefully, landing softly on his feet. The charred bodies of the two struck the ground behind him, their defeated thuds muffled by the grass.
Sephiroth's eyes were wide as he watched Vincent eliminate the scientists effortlessly. He was surprised, but strangely unperturbed. In fact, his eyes held something more akin to awe than fear. Vincent had been deadly and brutal, but elegant and beautiful. The boy realized numbly bodies were pushing past him and lab coats were streaming towards the man standing on the lawn.
"Contain the specimen!"
Sephiroth gasped as he spotted syringes in their gloved hands. He tried to move forward but to his dismay, a few scientists had stayed behind to keep him in check. He opened his mouth to yell but a cold hand flew over his mouth before he could speak. Fear reflected in his eyes as he watched the mass of lab coats move almost as one toward the dark haired man.
Vincent's head was pounding, the voices were whispering and cackling gleefully. He brought a hand up to message his head but turned as he felt a sudden presence. The prick of a needle told him he was too late and he stumbled back as more needles sank themselves into his pale flesh. White was all he could see and the smell of latex and disinfectants filled his nose. There were hands upon him once more and he could feel his focus slipping. Darkness brushed the edges of his vision and the murmurs cried out in anger.
Sephiroth moved his face away from the hand and yelled, "They're hurting him!" A cry left Vincent's throat, the sound a fusion of the man's usual soft voice and something else. It was a ghastly noise that wrenched Sephiroth's heart and made him distraught once more. "Let go!" But the hands would not let go. The boy pressed his small hands against the large arms of the scientists, he had to be stronger, he had to get to Vincent. "Let GO!"
A wicked, invisible force sliced through the air and the three scientists near Sephiroth's were immediately forced back. Sephiroth ran towards Vincent, not noticing the scientists stumble back and collapse as their torsos separated from their legs. All that mattered was that he go to Vincent. Tears were leaking out of his eyes, all he had to do was get to Vincent and everything would be fine. "Vincent!"
Vincent grunted and forced the darkness threatening to consume him back. "Sephiroth...," he whispered. The boy was somewhere near. He growled, batting the scientists away from him then slicing through them with his claws. Blood misted the air as he hacked and carved a path through the bodies. Limbs were ripped from their owners, heads flew through the air as scientists were decapitated. Vincent's eyes were still black where they had been white, but the orange had returned to a familiar glowing red. He was tiring and the voices were becoming distant, but he continued forward by force of will alone.
Finally, Vincent reached the end of the seemingly endless stream of bodies and he could see Sephiroth, covered in blood, but eyes as wide and green as always. Lifting a pale arm, he reached for the boy, but stumbled and fell to his knees. His dark hair slipped over his shoulder as he leaned unsteadily sideways. Vincent wanted to cry in frustration, he was so close but his body was so weak.
Sephiroth rushed forward and fell to his own knees in front of Vincent. He crawled forward until he reached Vincent's open arms. The man looked as tired as Sephiroth felt, but his eyes were red and warm, and a small smile was on his pale lips. Green eyes slid closed and Sephiroth rested his head against Vincent's chest, unconcerned with the blood on the man's thin patient gown. Slender arms slipped around his body and long-fingered hands placed themselves on his back. Sephiroth wrapped his own short arms around as much of Vincent as he could, feeling an immense wave of contentment wash his fears away. Soft, dark hair caressed Sephiroth's cheek and he could hear Vincent's breathing even out slowly. Sephiroth felt his own consciousness fading, exhaustion overcoming adrenaline. A smile tugged at his lips, finally he was with Vincent. Everything was going to be okay.
Footsteps thudded quietly through the mass of blood and corpses as Professor Hojo approached, after having been strangely absent from the event. He stopped in front of them, a good five feet away. "At least the idiots weren't completely useless," he said aloud, taking in the needles and syringes, no doubt full of tranquilizers, still protruding from Vincent's pale skin.
Vincent's eyes were mere slivers of red as he looked at Hojo's feet. Strange, he thought, slipping into unconsciousness, was Hojo actually waiting for him to fall asleep? Perhaps it was a rare show of mercy from the madman... Vincent dismissed the thought quickly. No, the man was most likely just waiting until he was sure Vincent was no longer dangerous. His eyelids fluttered, he was so tired. He could barely keep his eyes open, much less attack the man. Tightening his hold on Sephiroth protectively, he finally succumbed to the call of drug-induced sleep.
Hojo waited, quietly noting how much Vincent looked like a mother bear protecting her cub. He stood before the pair for a long time before closing the distance between them.
He bent down, unlaced Vincent's arms, and plucked the child from his warm embrace.