Chapter 7
Nelo Angelo…
Not a day goes by, that I don't realise,
I know that no one will ever know
where the flowers go when they are gone.
Not a day goes by, that I don't know that I'm dying.
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The first thing he came across, almost tripping over it in the dark, was what could certainly be described as a corpse. As the shadows began to creep closer, they made false shapes out of tangled roots and crumbled stone; misleading in the claustrophobic space below the plate. Vincent, picking his way among the debris, stepped on something much smoother than the surrounding metal and creeper skeleton. It subsided with a sickening crunch, loud as a gunshot, and astonished he vaulted over it. His leap brought him face to face with a giant spider, its only damage being where his sharp boot had cracked the carapace on its back, oozing thick black fluid.
A moment of frozen panic allowed him to believe that the thing was not about to attack him, though being at least three times his size it might just not have seen it's small challenger. Then he really saw the creature's left eye mass; pierced through to the brain and …dripping.
Something had killed this thing, very dead, very easily. There was little else to consider when the facts were presented in such clear sequence, which made the conclusion fairly obvious as far as the dark traveller was concerned. Turning further into the shadows, and holding just a little bit tighter to the sword, and his rifle, he ran.
It would have been a blind panic, except that he could make out the shapes of fallen metal around him as he scrambled over twisted branches toward the solid black gates half-swallowed by vegetation. They were shut tight, probably as a strengthening measure to add to the shattered glass perimeter. Hearing the sound of sharp feet tapping along fallen girders at his back he crashed straight into them, cushioning the impact with outstretched hands as his shoulder met the thick metal plating with a painful, sickening thud. There was no way he would open them, rusted as they were, and wound with climbing branches.
The clattering of many pointed feet grew louder and closer, and louder, tiny black creatures tickling the tiny amount of exposed skin around his face until he brushed them away with a swipe of his claw. He whirled to meet his attacker, sending the larger arachnids flying from his cape as it moved around him like bloody wings.
His first shot beheaded something that he'd rather not try and recognise, spreading chunks of cartilage and slime across his clothes. Seeing this, the other scuttling little things, luminous green eyes sparkling from every crevice, launched themselves at him in a feeding frenzy encouraged by the fresh corpse he'd provided. That had definitely not been his intended result, and completely unlike what he'd seen on entrance to the forest. That spider had been quite alone and untouched.
However, the feeding habits of Mako enhanced creepy-crawlies were pushed a long way from his immediate train of thought. He was in a nest of some sort, where the walls were not too damaged and had been well reinforced by falling rubble. He could see no immediate way in, and the slithering mass had his route of egress nicely cut off. Trying to fight a path through would be the only way to escape, but as he moved forward they began to crawl over his legs and arms, spreading sticky thread as they went. Their feet itched maddeningly as they covered him from head to foot, and his silence was definitely not matched by the enraged protestations in his head. They had quickly switched from 'oh damn, how the hell did I get into this mess' to 'KILL, KILL'
Suddenly, the spiders retreated, washed away like thick tar by a scream that split the sudden hush, amplified by the metal sky.
His back arched too far, bent almost double as the skin of his newly exposed throat stained black. Shedding his suit like a dead skin, he managed to stumble forwards, repelling the things further. His eyes burned red, filling the sockets with a vivid fire. Snarling, the fangs he revealed were growing as quickly as his limbs, which, contorting into wicked claws, seemed to swallow his boots and metal gauntlet.
He screamed again with the emergence of two black, bony, growths; tearing the skin away from his shoulders in a splash of claret. This second cape was constructed in leather, and tore deep gouges into nearby trees as it extended into ragged crimson wings. Now there were two strange creatures killing of their kind, the spiders and their hopeful hangers-on withdrew entirely, screeching malcontent.
Branches crashed around his self-satisfied smirk, feral eyes lighting them with hell's fire as he cast his gaze around the carnage. Chaos was loosed, and he was ready for a fight. But it was beginning to appear that he would be disappointed, having frightened off the only thing that was prepared to give him even a slight challenge, and the largest he'd already found dead. Killed by something that came before.
The smirk that had almost faded was rekindled, and he laughed, a guttural bark. There was no need to open the gates now that he could tear them apart. Slicing the foot thick sheets of metal with his claws he pushed both arms into the hole, pulling the leaves of shredded steel apart. It groaned as he tore a hole large enough to squeeze through, completely neglecting the clothes and weapons he had left in the nest in exchange for a greater expectation, that of a worthy opponent. He could smell it already, sharp and sweet, not like that of the small things. But it was something he knew, perhaps one of the humans, perhaps a little different. It came from the direction of a building that still remained mostly intact.
And from the small church, there was a sound he found not too unpleasant, distantly recognised as singing.
"There's a place not that far from here,
Where people go when their dreams have died.
As I walk from this faceless street,
I must be the last one alive."
Chaos snorted, he was really amused now that the creature he stalked could afford to announce its presence so readily. Although the words were dark, they were sung cheerfully enough, and somewhere in that mind that still belonged to Vincent, he knew the voice and song.
"Where are you,
You're not with me.
Numb my mind with a fantasy
Watching people live and die on screen,"
The voice was quite beautiful, contrary to their environment and the situation. Ebony clawed feet gouged tracks into the dusty carpeted street, brushing through splinters of glass and long lost belongings, perfectly guided through the gloom. He was still intent on finding the arrogant little creature, but as he listened his bloodlust lessened and his footsteps became less destructive. By the time he reached the splintered wooden door and squeezed through the crack he was able to fit much more easily than expected, though his wings were still difficult.
"Where are you
You're not with me
Where are you
I'm free."
He felt the stinging in his feet, the skin cream coloured again with scarlet streaks. The church door creaked slightly as it shut behind him. Dust and detritus fell in a trickle from the tangled beams above him, some strange luminescence lighting the inner chapel and a small patch of flowers. Vincent shivered, his own bare arms wrapped around his chest, hands on shoulders. His claw was back, he noted, but not his clothes. An experimental shrug, and his leathery wings slipped down to function as a workable cloak.
What's happening to me? He wondered, following the voice to the centre of the room where hung a pair of thick leather boots, dangling from the fallen rafters.
"You left me high and dry and changed me.
You lied to me, now I am angry,
And if the sun comes in your room,
and awakes you from your vanity
You will find me 'cause I'll be
On top of a mountain,
Pissing on your grave."
A yellow petal tumbled down, to land on his naked, bleeding feet. Vincent didn't bother to look upwards, knowing exactly who it was that Chaos hunted through the tangled old forest. Then he realised with some horror what it was that coated his legs, grey dust, the former inhabitants of Midgar's slums.
"Cloud… You've taken me for granted far too long. What the hell is going on?" He shouted, the sound a strangled interpretation of what he had conceived. Cloud just swung his feet idly and continued singing, more petals floating through the unnatural half light.
"There's a place from where I just arrived,
And I escaped, the last one alive.
Where are you,
You're not with me."
Staring straight at the boy's heels, Vincent shivered again, the membranes of his bleeding wings not nearly thick enough to keep him warm. "Why am I here?" He repeated, this time more successfully, his deep voice echoing through the room. "Tell me, or…" He really didn't have anything to threaten, he'd still come of his own choice. "Please. I've thought about this and I want to go through with it whatever happens, but tell me what's happening."
"Where are you,
I am free…
We're going on a journey, like I said. It began a few hundred years ago; perhaps a million, and it will end when there's nothing left to do. If you want an end at all, that is." The boy explained, clarifying absolutely nothing in Vincent's mind.
"Can't you just be straight for once?" He muttered, "Why can't you tell me straight, do you think I might not want to come with you… I know that it might be dangerous, and that you aren't telling me for a reason, but I think I deserve some sort of explanation."
Cloud was silent for a moment, though he'd heard the quiet irritation in his friend's voice and felt more than a little guilty for not telling him straight. But he couldn't yet, alone, he was still a little frightened of being abandoned at a time of vulnerability.
"Because I don't feel like explaining everything all the time." He sighed. "If you take a flower apart just to see how the petals fit, you don't see anything, you miss the whole point. Besides, who really wants to know why things happen? If you wish, believe that the universe is so large that nothing really matters at all. Then, you and I are but two anomalies in a billion. So what if I am like this, or you like that; can you explain why humans feel the need for poetry when an explanation in fact is so much simpler? Can you say why you followed me, except for your curiosity?" The boots finally ceased their pendulous motion and disappeared from sight. When Vincent realised that nothing more had happened he stepped back and tilted his head to survey the situation. Cloud was sitting on a beam further up into the roof, golden petals drifting down one by one as he plucked them from their stems.
He was reminded of a game that even he had played, a while back. It was a completely illogical thing to do, but everyone had to, just once. Just as he had played clock with those silly dandelions on the way to Midgar. She loves me… She loves me not…
"Who is it?" He asked, trying to sound fairly casual as he took the first jump into the basketwork of collapsed timber. His wings gave him an added amount of stability as he worked his way toward the roof; where Cloud was heading.
"Hmm, oh, nobody in particular." Cloud hummed dreamily, taking a petal onto his palm and blowing lightly. "Somebody I promised to meet later, is all. Then again; perhaps it is someone very important, if only to me." The petal fluttered upwards chaotically, before settling into a random descent that took it millimetres from Vincent's claw. "Who's to say?"
"Anybody I know?"
"You never really met, if that's what you mean… Thanks for bringing my sword, by the way. But I really won't need it for a while."
Now he tells me… A morbid smirk crossed his face, which had to be as filthy as the rest of him by now. He'd left it outside anyway, and brought nothing at all to wear. Emerging from the haunted church, he saw Cloud stripping off his coat and shirt. He was standing beside an enormous tree trunk, which seemed to reach all the way up to the nearest section of plate.
"Here, see if you can do anything with this." Cloud shouted down, waving his black shirt in the air. It was actually quite long, and Vincent was in no position to be choosy. Keeping his wings firmly wrapped around his body as he went, he picked his way across the few remaining clattering tiles. Occasionally he would send one crashing down over the edge to land on the piled ashes below. He would have been far more graceful had he not been attempting to protect his last shred of dignity, whilst also trying not to aggravate the cuts on his feet.
There was one problem.
"I don't think I can get it over these." He laughed, having no other alternative. To illustrate his point he stretched the wings a little, turning slightly away in modesty. Cloud stepped closer, not even budging a single tile. Delicately enough to tickle, he ran a cold hand along the smooth joint where the bony growths attached. Vincent bit his lip hard, drawing blood with one fang.
"Shit! Strife… Could you at least warn me before you do that?" He yelped, unable to help himself. This was close to humiliating.
"Sorry Vincent." He pulled away quickly. "You can't do anything about it?"
"Does it look like I can?" Vincent replied dryly, turning back to glare at the small blond who was chewing a thumbnail in consideration. Vincent noted with some surprise that they were lacquered black. He also noticed that although Cloud was now shirtless he still wasn't exactly bothered about the temperature, he had been mistaken earlier, this was past humiliating. Cloud extricated his thumb with a sudden grin, flourishing a previously concealed dagger.
"C'mere Vince, I think I have an idea."
You have got to be kidding… Vincent thought, blanching as much as his complexion would allow. He didn't exactly know why he still had wings but he was pretty sure he wanted to keep them, or at least, find a less drastic solution.
Cloud went right ahead as if he hadn't seen Vincent's reaction. The blade tore easily through the black fabric of his shirt to leave two long gashes from the shoulders and through the hem, then he stepped back towards his friend with an infuriatingly calm expression. Vincent was too relieved to be angry, but he added another mental note to kill the kid when it was all over.
Between them they managed to get the ravaged item of clothing around his wings and pulled down to just above his knees. But Cloud didn't go back to his coat, instead, he took hold of Vincent's metal claw.
"You still have this thing on?" He asked, the metal was smooth to the touch, and he could feel small clasps holding the plates together. "Why bother…"
He thought he'd been able to do something about that, with Jenova and everything… oh well, flicking off one of the clasps he prepared to examine the limb. Vincent pulled sharply, trying to escape his hold, but he really wasn't in the mood to argue with the dark haired gunman. His grip, though wonderfully gentle, was not one easily relinquished.
"Please… Is it alright for me to see?" he asked, turning bright blue eyes up in an irrefutable plea. Trapped, Vincent nodded his assent and allowed the clips to be undone.
"You killed that spider-thing, didn't you."
Cloud shrugged. "It was him or me, and he was definitely slower, stupider and uglier." The last clip came undone, and he peeled the plate away to reveal the arm beneath. It had been aching a little, but not nearly enough to prepare Vincent for what he saw…
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Author's Notes: Oh crêpes! I'm writing two things at a time here, while listening to all my weirdo CD's (Which is a damn lot) So the Vast songs seem to have jumped fic ^_^!
Ahem, so, the one at the top is 'I'm dying'… I'm not gonna say how it fits because you're supposed to work it out yourself. The one Cloud's singing in the church, is 'Last one alive' I'm not telling with that one either, everything will be revealed in time.
I'm going back to writing my own songs soon. I just had to put these two somewhere, I couldn't be bothered to write something of my own for Cloud to sing and Clouderella's getting the songfic vibe happening anyway.
Yoko Kanno no ongaku ga daisuki desu! ^_^
NE Way, hiya 2 minna-san. Swordy, Dina, Nemesis, Darksquall, Sky, Klepto, Lauren, Sekhmet, um, anyone else? I promise that the next chapter will be an epic, not scribbled up from nothing in a couple of spare half hours. Of course, that means it'll be a little while off.
Oh, and Dina, Clouderella, Flames… was to Flames by Vast, try to find it, it's lovely!
This is soooo wrong.
Wrong me! Wrong me! Wrong my brains out!
Adios, Amigas…
