Part III: Dirty Love




As he walked through the snow, Cloud wondered to himself, about Sephiroth, about himself, about everything. He noted a long trail of footsteps trailing of onto the large hill that separated Icicle Inn from the wasteland plains below.


What am I looking for? Why am I searching?


Cloud knew the answer to his own question. He decided to follow the trail of footsteps. He had just passed the gate of Icicle Inn when a voice spoke softly out to him.


"Looking for someone?"


Cloud whirled around to see Sephiroth, leaning against the side of a building. Slowly, Sephiroth stood up and walked toward Cloud.


"I'm not looking for you!" shouted Cloud defiantly. "What are you doing here?"


Sephiroth laughed. "Do you think I'd leave you here? Do you think I'd take that chance? More importantly, do you think I'd want to take that chance?"


"What chance?" said Cloud. "If you want to kill me, do it. I don't care anymore. I'll die alone."


"That's not true," said Sephiroth. "I know what you desire. You desire to have me, to be in my presence." Sephiroth walked toward Cloud. "You long to die together with me, forever in my arms. You long for my taste."


"Shut up..." said Cloud, with a violent headache again rushing through his head.


"You know you desire power. Come then, Strife. Share the power you so greatly desire." said Sephiroth, and he grabbed Cloud with his hand. Effortlessly, Sephiroth threw him to the ground, and kneeled down himself.


"Come now, and share my power!" Sephiroth cackled. He pulled Cloud's face closet o his and grabbed his lips with his own, and suddenly, they were kissing. Cloud pulled back, but Sephiroth grabbed him by the hair, thrusting him back toward him, their tongues intertwining. Cloud groped for his sword, but Sephiroth threw him quickly back to the ground.


"You want the eternal power, don't you? Admit it!" sneered Sephiroth, slowly undoing Cloud's sheath, which was still clipped to his belt. Cloud desperately tried to roll away, but Sephiroth slapped him squarely on the chin. After undoing Cloud's sheath, he ripped off Cloud's belt and removed his own sheath.


Cloud knew he had to act. In one quick motion, he rolled backward, getting to his feet quickly. However, upon standing up, his footing was lost on the snowy slope, and he tumbled backward, sliding down the hill. Sephiroth, who had thrown his armor and pants aside, walked almost mockingly toward Cloud. Grabbing Cloud's face with his hands, he thrust Cloud into his face and again kissed him, longingly, greedily, torturously.


No...this is what I wanted...but...


Cloud's mind reeled. Sephiroth set him down, and slowly took of Cloud's pants, Cloud gingerly helping himself. Completely exposed, Sephiroth again slapped Cloud across his face.


"What is it you desire most?" Sephiroth asked.


"Power." Cloud said through a hoarse voice, choking down tears. "I want you...I want only you...Sephiroth," he said, and he pulled himself toward Sephiroth, and found himself kissing him, grabbing his lips, locking his tongue with his, drowning in love, dirty love, cruel maddening lust. Then, it all stopped, as if the world had suddenly came to a screeching halt.



- - -



Where....what am I? Who am I?


What is my purpose?


What have I came here to do?


When Cloud awoke, he was lying on his bed inside Icicle Inn. As he opened his eyes, a figure sat cross-legged in front of the fire.


"V-Vincent??" he asked, though too weak to pull himself out from under the covers.


"Shh, quiet." said a soft voice that sounded strangely distant. "You've had a bad day. Just rest."


"Just...rest?" Cloud mumbled. His mind spun.


Sephiroth...


Sephiroth, how he longed for him, how he ached to taste him, to tease him, to acquire his dark loveliness. The power. He lusted for power. Mind frozen, he closed his eyes again and slept.




- - -



Slowly he stood up. He was no longer a man more than he was a corpse, clinging onto life. By all standards, he had faded and died, but just as a man still walks, so he is remembered. Though it had been hours, rigor mortis had set in and though he still lived, he was stiff and aching. His eyes seemed to glow with a red flame, and his thought spun out of control, as if they were being controlled by something else. Not even his actions defined what he did. He was just a slave to some unknown force, a force to intimidating to understand.



Author's Note: I have decided to end this series. It will remain up for a while, and then I will take it down. Thank you. Please read more fics of mine.