I do not own Final Fantasy. All characters and affiliated subjects belong to Squaresoft, although I'd LOVE to own Vincent Valentine…
Being one of the few serious things I've written, I worked hard on this. Please send me your opinions. I'd love to hear from you.
I'll just leave you wondering as to who the mystery woman at the end is. If you guess right, I'll include you in one of my stories. Mind you, it's really hard to figure out who it is. Good luck!
Broken Man
by Crystal Poole
It was many, many years ago
Where our story first began.
A young girl of a scientist
Wanted just to lend a hand.
Jenova was the subject brought
From deep within the earth.
It opened up new doors to life
That could have been of worth.
Our hero was protecting them
From danger and harms way,
And he found himself falling for
The young girl more with each passing day.
But Hojo was a jealous man
And tried to win her heart.
His courting angered our hero
Which wasn't very smart.
Our hero cried each night and day
And cursed his evil foe,
For though he'd shown her all his heart,
Her love he'd never know.
One day, the girl had Hojo's baby
And died while giving birth.
They had a little funeral
And locked her in the earth.
Our hero was mad; he was enraged
That Hojo didn't care.
He'd injected her with Jenova cells
In the labratory there.
The cells had made the baby grow
And birth torn her in two,
And now testing the child was
All Hojo cared to do.
So he went down into the lab,
A gun clenched in his hand,
Six bullets in the barrel,
Each ment for the evil man.
Into the basement he descended,
Quickly as he can.
As was his job, he had the right
To stop his gruesome plan.
His heart was beating quickly now,
Cold metal in his fist,
And though Hojo would surely fight,
His mark he would not miss,
For as a Turk, he was prided
On his never waivering aim.
As the sharpest gunman in his ranks,
He would end Hojo's game.
He opened the door and cocked his gun,
And there the duel ensued.
Hojo shot first; our hero fell,
And thus he was subdued.
Our hero woke upon a table;
His left hand. It was gone!
Instead of flesh, he soon found out,
Was a gauntlet for an arm.
His heart was pierced, his soul trapped in.
Hojo'd summoned a demon inside.
He was undead, but half alive.
In no one could he confide.
His skin had turned a pallid white.
His once grey eyes were red.
And suddenly, from far, far off,
Was a voice inside his head.
"It's all your fault! You let her die!
Succumb to me, you wretch!"
Hojo snuck up behind him,
But this he did not catch.
The needle slid in smooth and clean,
The syrum flowed through his veins.
Into a nightmarish sleep our hero slipped,
Though death would be the same.
Into a coffin he was placed,
In a room that was near by.
Restless from a long day's work,
Hojo released a sigh.
And there he left our hero,
Who would never age a day,
And only to be woken
When someone would play the game.
I picked up a piece of paper
In the mansion 30 years later.
A puzzle was upon the sheet.
Who could have been the maker?
"You do not have to play my game..."
I read it in my head.
"But if you choose to solve this puzzle,
You may just wind up dead."
Four hints to where to find
The combination to the safe.
It took us quite a while.
Was it really worth the wait?
Inside the safe was a great beast:
A lab rat, we could see.
And when he was defeated,
We found a little key.
Down to the basement we then ran,
To finally end the game.
And in a tomb we found a man:
Vincent Valentine was his name.
He told us to leave; his nightmare began,
But we coldn't just leave him alone.
He seemed so lonely sitting there.
So solemn was his tone.
He told us of his horror,
Of Lucrecia and her child,
The man named Sephiroth whom we had
Tracked across many a mile.
To let him be and die in shame,
We just surely could not,
So we invited him on our journey,
But he simply would not.
That is, until he found Hojo
Was also who we chased.
Slowly, a revengeful scoul
Crept evilly across his face.
So here I stand, upon the deck,
Of the airship that Cid built.
I look over to Vincent;
Something about him makes me melt.
He always tells me I look like her,
But I don't understand.
His eyes are weary. I wonder why
I just can't lend a hand.
"She'll never understand..." I think,
Turning my head to see
The beautiful way she always smiles
Whenever she looks at me.
I cannot fall in love once more.
My curse will kill again.
Though I act aloof and cold as stone,
I'm still a broken man.
Being one of the few serious things I've written, I worked hard on this. Please send me your opinions. I'd love to hear from you.
I'll just leave you wondering as to who the mystery woman at the end is. If you guess right, I'll include you in one of my stories. Mind you, it's really hard to figure out who it is. Good luck!
Broken Man
by Crystal Poole
It was many, many years ago
Where our story first began.
A young girl of a scientist
Wanted just to lend a hand.
Jenova was the subject brought
From deep within the earth.
It opened up new doors to life
That could have been of worth.
Our hero was protecting them
From danger and harms way,
And he found himself falling for
The young girl more with each passing day.
But Hojo was a jealous man
And tried to win her heart.
His courting angered our hero
Which wasn't very smart.
Our hero cried each night and day
And cursed his evil foe,
For though he'd shown her all his heart,
Her love he'd never know.
One day, the girl had Hojo's baby
And died while giving birth.
They had a little funeral
And locked her in the earth.
Our hero was mad; he was enraged
That Hojo didn't care.
He'd injected her with Jenova cells
In the labratory there.
The cells had made the baby grow
And birth torn her in two,
And now testing the child was
All Hojo cared to do.
So he went down into the lab,
A gun clenched in his hand,
Six bullets in the barrel,
Each ment for the evil man.
Into the basement he descended,
Quickly as he can.
As was his job, he had the right
To stop his gruesome plan.
His heart was beating quickly now,
Cold metal in his fist,
And though Hojo would surely fight,
His mark he would not miss,
For as a Turk, he was prided
On his never waivering aim.
As the sharpest gunman in his ranks,
He would end Hojo's game.
He opened the door and cocked his gun,
And there the duel ensued.
Hojo shot first; our hero fell,
And thus he was subdued.
Our hero woke upon a table;
His left hand. It was gone!
Instead of flesh, he soon found out,
Was a gauntlet for an arm.
His heart was pierced, his soul trapped in.
Hojo'd summoned a demon inside.
He was undead, but half alive.
In no one could he confide.
His skin had turned a pallid white.
His once grey eyes were red.
And suddenly, from far, far off,
Was a voice inside his head.
"It's all your fault! You let her die!
Succumb to me, you wretch!"
Hojo snuck up behind him,
But this he did not catch.
The needle slid in smooth and clean,
The syrum flowed through his veins.
Into a nightmarish sleep our hero slipped,
Though death would be the same.
Into a coffin he was placed,
In a room that was near by.
Restless from a long day's work,
Hojo released a sigh.
And there he left our hero,
Who would never age a day,
And only to be woken
When someone would play the game.
I picked up a piece of paper
In the mansion 30 years later.
A puzzle was upon the sheet.
Who could have been the maker?
"You do not have to play my game..."
I read it in my head.
"But if you choose to solve this puzzle,
You may just wind up dead."
Four hints to where to find
The combination to the safe.
It took us quite a while.
Was it really worth the wait?
Inside the safe was a great beast:
A lab rat, we could see.
And when he was defeated,
We found a little key.
Down to the basement we then ran,
To finally end the game.
And in a tomb we found a man:
Vincent Valentine was his name.
He told us to leave; his nightmare began,
But we coldn't just leave him alone.
He seemed so lonely sitting there.
So solemn was his tone.
He told us of his horror,
Of Lucrecia and her child,
The man named Sephiroth whom we had
Tracked across many a mile.
To let him be and die in shame,
We just surely could not,
So we invited him on our journey,
But he simply would not.
That is, until he found Hojo
Was also who we chased.
Slowly, a revengeful scoul
Crept evilly across his face.
So here I stand, upon the deck,
Of the airship that Cid built.
I look over to Vincent;
Something about him makes me melt.
He always tells me I look like her,
But I don't understand.
His eyes are weary. I wonder why
I just can't lend a hand.
"She'll never understand..." I think,
Turning my head to see
The beautiful way she always smiles
Whenever she looks at me.
I cannot fall in love once more.
My curse will kill again.
Though I act aloof and cold as stone,
I'm still a broken man.