Behind Every Great Man - Watch It Burn
I heard no slam from the front door. I heard no tires peeling in a clean getaway. There was no sound except for the raindrop's soft patter and my labored sobs. I had been stronger than this when I was in SOLDIER, I was sure. But I couldn't move. My limbs were limp against my sides and the only movement came from the pool of blood creeping towards me and threatening to drown me like a horrible plague. So that was Shadow. That horrible person was dubbed my worst enemy.
I winced as the putrid liquid finally reached my forehead and managed to seep underneath my scalp. It was cold, just like Dr. Morrissey. His mouth had remained open in a silent scream and his eyes, the eyes I thought were so warm and comforting when I first met him, were desolate and stared at me. They forced guilt into me. I could've saved him if I hadn't had a memory relapse.
I finally heard a door slam and heavy boots pound up the stair case. Cloud's voice echoed throughout the house but I couldn't speak. I couldn't grasp onto those words for help. A small creak whispered into the room as another set of feet sounded on the floor. They were in the library, whoever they were. The coldness disappeared as my head was gently lifted from the wooden floor. Vincent's red cloak clashed with the crimson pool around my head.
"What happened here, Seraph?" I croaked out the name Shadow, my throat too dry from the crying to explain what had just taken place. Cloud burst through the doorway and began to interrogate us both. Behind me, Vincent found the brown bottle Shadow had injected me with. So foolish, I kept telling myself. I let the enemy get the best of me. Vincent pulled me into a fetal position and held me close.
"Sleep now, Seraph." For once, I welcomed the darkness.
Nemesis' blade reflected the worry I was trying so hard to control. I coiled back in disgust. This was ridiculous. Sephiroth was completely able to take care of himself and in the last month alone, I had seen more action on the field than he had seen in his entire career. I reclined back in Lazard's chair and watched the storm grow angrier outside.
"I wish you worried over me like that," Zack said from the conferencing desk. His big feet were lounged against the desk as the rest of his body relaxed in roll about chair.
"You're always under my supervision. I don't need to worry over you." I could feel him roll his eyes behind me. I wasn't, by any means, his superior.
"You're lucky you're a pretty girl, Seraph. Otherwise, I'd have disowned you a long time ago." There was humor in his voice and I knew he was trying to lighten up my mood with harmless flirtation and friendly bickering. I shook my head and tensed up when I saw the black helicopter take flight.
"I thought they had delayed the order for the chopper," I said with a hint of more worry than I thought possible. Zack came up behind Lazard's chair and studied the same scene I was. Sephiroth was scheduled to depart the city with a handful of SOLDIERS using one of the bigger planes for an aerial assault. There was no copter described in the mission. I stood up to get a better view.
There, in the corner of the helipad, was a figure cloaked in black and running towards the air craft. No! This was an assassination job!
"Zack, they've got an inside job!" I jumped Lazard's desk and headed to the nearest balcony I could find. Maybe I could make the leap to the helipad.
The sight of the explosion hit me before the sound did and I fell to my knees. Sephiroth was on that chopper. Debris fell from the sky in angry shades of orange and red with the metal's mangled shards. The rain naturally doused what it could and an eerie steam blanketed the wreckage. I somehow found myself at the edge of the entire scene and my heart skipped beat after beat. For a moment, I thought I had died inside there as well. And then I saw it…
He was mostly blocked by the flames that were still licking the helicopter's mechanical wounds but he was there. It was the assassin I had seen earlier coming to admire his handy work. However, there was no twisted, amused expression. His lips were set in a stern line while his eyes searched through the wreckage. What was he looking for? What else could he possibly do? Rage boiled inside my blood and my sight melted into the chopper's warm hues until all I could see was red. It filled me; a thick, heated substance that merged with my hate for this person. It consumed me, swarming my veins and pulsating to my heart's rhythm. It was drowning me, this darkness, until I saw nothing but black.
Color burst into my line of vision when I felt the sword's tip prick the back of my neck in a warning. I was completely soaked and sitting astride the man I had seen through the wreckage. Nemesis was in my grip but her blade was buried inside the man's torso. I couldn't tell at this point if I was wet because of the rain or the carnage I had just displayed. I smiled regretfully. There were two of them. Of course, there were.
"On your feet…you don't deserve an honorable death." I stood and waited for the blow from Death. Behind me, I heard a sick crack and the gargled gasp from the faceless man. I turned in time to see the silver hair, matted by the rain. He was alive!
He cleaned his blade and stood, signaling to someone I couldn't see. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I was used as an instrument to lure out both assassins. Sephiroth was never in the helicopter. My feet were moving on their own accord and stopped short of a breath beside him.
"You used me," I growled in a low voice. He turned slightly but he was in career mode. It was the same expression he used with his enemies. The realization stung more than I thought it should have. These were dangerous waters that I wanted to test. My fingers twitched in anticipation and before I could keep them occupied, they jerked on their own accordance and struck his shoulder.
"You used me!" My voice wasn't a whisper any longer. This time he turned to me, those catlike eyes dilating from excitement or anger, I couldn't tell.
"And you performed exceptionally well. SOLDIER should be proud to have you under their command." I didn't do it for them!
"I thought you were dead!" He sheathed his weapon and turned his back on me.
"And you can see now that I am perfectly fine." I side stepped so I was in his sight once more. The stoic expression…I couldn't handle it anymore. I grabbed his coat's lapels and let my head hang in defeat.
"I thought you were dead…" My shoulders gave way. I was admitting something that I was not comfortable with him knowing. His chest moved faster as he took in a deeper breath. Surely he knew the meaning behind those words. Sephiroth grasped my hand and pulled me towards a secluded alley behind another building. He finally looked at me like I was his Seraph again. Those beautifully colored eyes strained to find something in my own and for a moment, I was expecting the worst news possible. He couldn't say the words I wanted to hear. Instead, he decided to show them and caressed my bottom lip with his thumb before gently placing a tender kiss there.
It was decided then and there that that night would be spent together. I agreed to meet him at his place after the briefing and with one more tender embrace, he led me towards a waiting Zack. The worry on his face unsettled me. I stared down at my hands and grimaced at the sight of all that blood. I probably looked just as horrible everywhere else.
"I know, I know…I look like a mess." He grabbed me by my shoulders and checked my face. It seemed like an eternity before he sighed in relief and followed me inside. It would be a long time before I understood just what he was checking for.
I awoke to a grey dawn. Tifa had mentioned that the weather was going to be a mess for the next week or so and I missed the warm embrace of a sunny morning. Everyone around me was sleeping so with the quietest of movements, I crept from my bed and tip toed towards the bathroom. I flipped on the light and immediately saw it. My eyes were black. They were like a shark's eyes, filled in with that darkness and devoid of any emotion. I fell back against the wall and shut my eyes. This wasn't real. I was exhausted. I had just witnessed something traumatic. I slowed my breathing and regained control of myself. Slowly, I pried open my eyes and sighed in relief when my normal coloring was there. Stress, that's all that was.
City Subway Station – Platform 12
A lone man's screams stretch out into the deserted subway station. Once upon a time the platforms bustled with life during every possible waking hour but the years of depression and desolation meant that the railway was only used during the day time, leaving the platforms to the vulnerable and cruel.
His body is flung across the narrow space, his shoulder crunching against the brick wall's periwinkle pain and his face mangled by an unknown terror. His once crisp suit is lying in tattered rags against his body and his usually trusty gun now lays in the throes of a finely manicured hand. Fingerless gloves adorn those hands; the assailant's nails dyed a deep crimson from the attack. A silken ebony hood shields most of her face away from the world and an equally black veil hangs from the side, unmasking her true horror: a set of razor sharp teeth filling up a grotesque smile. The smile disappears and her lips go back to a more natural formation that society has come to accept. The fangs disappear as well and squared off teeth now put the man at a bit more ease for the wicked simper had just made a mess of his face.
"I'll ask you again, good sir, why are your people after Dr. Hornsby?"
Blood was smeared over her now human smile and the stranger trembles at the recollection of what had just taken place. Her voluptuous body is hugged by a tight red halter dress, accented with a pair of stiletto boots. He knows his death is imminent and he shakes his head in defiance. He was trusted with this secret and even the inexplicable horrors he was witnessing wouldn't make him shed that trust. The woman began the short trek over to him, her heels clicking against the cold concrete of the subway platform. "I see you're admiring my shoes. Do you know why women like to wear heels?" Her figure is now crouched before him, her face still shadowed by the hood of the cloak. Without giving him a chance to answer, the man is grabbed by his torn collar and flung up into the air. Despite the surprise maneuver, he is still able to catch the gleam of shiny metal from the tip of her shoes and knows what is about to happen as she swiftly sends her leg up into the air, catching his body with dagger protruding from the shoe's toe and entering his neck. The cadaver falls limply to the ground. She reattaches her veil and leaves the scene before anyone can spy the crime she just committed.