Author's Note: This originally was just one long story, but for convenience I've
decided to split it into several parts, and post them within a few days of each other.
Thanks to darknightdestiny for the idea of splitting it up, it IS more manageable this way.
This is segment two, in which Vincent rants and raves, Hojo broods,
and JENOVA puts in an 'appearance'.
~ Rene (seasonofthepumpkin)
* * *
" I'm sorry, I'm sorry. So, so sorry."
Hojo raised his head from the clipboard he was busily filling out to stare over
at his patient, who seemed to be mumbling something over and over. "Three days later,
and still having your perverted dream? Hmph. What are you mumbling about, Turk?"
A sobbing noise came from the desk, a heart-rending sound that echoed lowly throughout
the room.
"Hmmm...it seems the anesthetic is wearing off. Are you awake?"
Tortured brown eyes stared up at him, brimming with hot, bitter tears. Vincent groaned,
turning his head away from the professor blinking back his tears. Hojo just stood there,
unsure of what to do about his ward now that he had him where he wanted him.
"I'm so sorry... I never wanted...it to end this...way. I'm sorry...I lied..."
Vincent choked out, his face twisted in inner turmoil, voicing Lucrecia's accusations
and his own guilt. He sniffed quietly, tears squeezing out of his eyes. Hojo watched with
silent interest as the man sobbed quietly, the tears creating clean tracks through the caked
blood on his pallid face.
"For god's sake, you're laying here crying over Lucrecia when tears won't change
anything. I thought Turks don't cry. Refreshing to know that you've a heart that can be
pierced beneath that cold dead shell of yours."
"I never...meant to lie to you Lucrecia..." Vincent's eyes were glazed over
with tears, almost opaque. He looked awful. More blood trickled from his lips, seemingly
unnoticed by the semi-conscious man, who continued his mumbling. "Never meant to- -"
Vincent's rambling was ended by a violent coughing fit, bringing up great clouts of blood.
Nonplused, he continued his words as soon as he could draw enough air to support them.
"Oh, gods..."
"Still delirious..." Hojo brushed thick black bangs out of Vincent's face,
skin clammy to the touch. "I could dope you up again, but I don't think I will. I'd
rather that you be coherent for now." Leaning over the Turks face, breath tickling the man's
forehead, he stared down into Vincent's deep brown eyes, unsure of what he was looking
for in there, perhaps the demon that had to be lurking inside of the man.
Vincent's eyes were truly beautiful ones, a deep, warm chocolate brown
that did not befit a murderous Turk such as himself. Eyes like polished agate,
simply stunning. Eyes one could lose themselves in for hours. Something stirred
deep in Hojo's soul, a malicious desire to rip those tearful eyes from the sockets,
rip them out and replace them with hellfire.
"...uhhn...Ho- Hojo? Wha-?" Vincent mumbled, squirming on the desk, only to
be held down by his captor. "L-let me go... where is she?" He thrashed as
hard as his numb, drugged body would allow, producing nothing more than a pathetic
wriggling. Hojo smiled smally in spite of himself. This would probably be the only
time a thin, weak scientist would manage to overpower a slim, not-so-weak Turk. It gave
him a sort of sick feeling, but also satisfaction, as many of his previous actions had.
His feelings had been quite ambiguous this entire time, part of him wanting to make
this man suffer, to make him pay for taking what was his, to see him writhe and squirm
uncomfortably, to punish him for sulking into his life and stealing her love away.
But another part of him felt almost guilty for doing this to the man his wife had
loved so dearly. Although Hojo wasn't exactly fond of the lecherous Turk, Lucrecia
had been, and harming him seemed almost like spitting on her memory.
He also wanted to talk to this Turk before doing anything more, but whether
this stemmed from a desire to rub salt in his already grievous wounds, or
from something completely different he could not say.
Now, he had what he had wished for, what he had worked so hard for, the chance
to speak to his wife's lover, to reduce him to tears, to tear him down to a heap
of frayed nerves, to make him suffer. He had achieved his aims, Vincent was laying
here helpless, utterly defenseless, but the victory was a bitter one.
Knowing virtually nothing of his wife's lover other than that he was a Turk,
and scarcely having spoken to him before tonight, he had expected a defiant, self-assured,
soul-less killing machine, a true monster, while what struggled beneath him was a
delirious, bewildered young man. This was not what he wanted, he wanted the aforementioned
brute, someone he could hate and feel no remorse in destroying. He didn't
want this tearful, pathetic youth who had already ceased his struggling, too drugged to fight any longer.
In short, this wasn't the confrontation he had envisioned.
There must be a mistake, this couldn't be the monster he had
fabricated in his mind. Perhaps it was the drugs, yes, that had to be it.
He must still be drugged, tranquilized, sedated, whatever you wished to call it.
Feeling only a little better, he began his tirade, trying to ignore the sinking
sensation in his guts.
"You could have had any girl you wanted. But no, it had to be my 'Crecia.
If you had only kept your filthy hands off what didn't belong to you,
you wouldn't be here now. It's only human to want what you can't have though,
so I can't blame you too much. I do wonder how I can even consider a monster
like you to be human, however. Goddamned Turk.
And you said I 'forced' Lucrecia to do something I knew would harm her,
against her will.
Oh, I don't think of it like that. Lucrecia wanted this as much as I did.
Don't you realize that? She wanted to contribute to this project, she wanted
to be a part of it all. Even though her resolution wavered towards the end,
(thanks to your ignorant doom-saying of course) she really wanted this.
You wanted her to be happy, no? She was happy, until you had to prick her
conscience with your 'morals'. You made 'Crecia more unhappy than I ever did."
Hojo regarded Vincent with an expectant eye as he made this statement, waiting for
his inevitable counter remark. Surely now the man would drop this façade, and reveal
himself as the noxious creature he truly was.
He wasn't disappointed, Vincent gazed up at him with teary eyes, and painstakingly
forced out his rebuttal.
"...why couldn't you just let her go? You wouldn't treat her as she deserved,
but yet you wouldn't let her go to someone who would." Although he had started out
strongly, Vincent's voice grew weaker as he choked this out, clenching his eyes
shut as a wave of pain washed over him.
His dreams of insanity and madness had already destroyed him, given him all
the guilt he could handle, had broken him utterly. He felt no right to defend himself,
he was a monster, his own beloved had told him that. Hojo could call him whatever he
wanted, and Vincent wouldn't argue with him.
Hojo merely stood there, unsure of what to say. He had expected a vicious
verbal assault, with all of the profanity and scatological remarks Vincent could force
out in three or four gasps of air. Once again, things did not play out the way he had
imagined. No matter, Hojo still refused to accept what became more and more apparent
by the moment. He still stuck by his decision that the man was the foulest beast to ever
walk the face of the Planet.
And he would have him expose himself as such, before he would rest this night.
"Don't give me that nonsense, you stupid Turk. Playing the martyr isn't
going to fool me. I know what you are, and no mask will cover it up. Hmph. Tell
me, was she good in bed? Did you enjoy knowing you were screwing another man's pregnant wife?
Was that the true thrill, the real reason you wanted her? Because she was someone
else's? Well? Answer me."
Poking Vincent's shoulder impatiently, he ignored the visible pain crossing Vincent's face.
"I loved her. I really did. I never meant...to hurt her."
Vincent began to sit up again, only to be shoved backwards against the desk again,
weakly crying out as he slammed against the unforgiving wood.
No, no, no, no, no. This wasn't what he was supposed to say, not how he was supposed to act.
Why did he just lay there and take these insults, only replying to defend Crecia?
He was supposed to threaten, yell, curse, and fight to defend his disgusting actions,
not just lay here like a broken toy and sniffle about Lucrecia. He wasn't supposed to
be defending her, because he didn't care about her, he only wanted to take her from him.
He wasn't supposed to look so sorry, at least not yet. He was supposed to be unrepentant
till the end. He was supposed to be a fucking monster, for Chrissakes! How could he enjoy
tearing down this already broken man? Hojo hated him for not being something he could
easily hate, hated him for being so despicably weak and human.
Hojo fixed him with glassy, unfocused eyes, any trace of sanity or remote humanity gone
far from him, leaving only rage and startling intellect, a dangerous combination.
Rage is well known to surpass reason, the former easily overcoming the latter.
JENOVA sensed this, this loss of control. Now was the time. She would
achieve her ends, and also have her own revenge, on both her puppet and his rival.
She smiled benignly, already anticipating the havoc she would wreak upon entering
her newest host.
And from the dark recesses of this fractured mind, issued a warm voice,
coaxing the unthinkable.
"Fix him. Make him sorry. You can do it, Mother will help you...."
He had to have something worthy of his hatred, something he could make suffer
without any remorse. He just couldn't truly hate this pathetic Turk on his own
merits without feeling terribly guilty. This man loved Lucrecia, loved her, he
could see that. Valentine had cherished 'Crecia, and losing her was the most
devastating blow he could ever have received.
For a long moment he paused, wondering why it had to be this way, why he would
even want to hate someone who loved her so, who had made her happy, if only for a
while, who would have given his life for hers in a heartbeat. Wouldn't hating him
be terribly selfish on his part? After all, his quarrel had nothing to do with
loving her, it was all about the fact Vincent had stolen from him.
Stolen...immediately Hojo's heart hardened at the reminder of his hatred. Oh,
he couldn't get away with this, he just couldn't! The bastard. He had taken her
from him, maybe if Vincent had never come along, Lucrecia would have still loved him.
Maybe it wouldn't have ended like this, perhaps they all could have been happy if he
had never met 'Crecia. He had to pay. But how?
Hojo's eyes were drawn to the cache of JENOVA cells already prepared in shining
hypodermics, the remnant of Lucrecia's bi-weekly 'treatments'. It would be so easy to
just grab a few, and make this bastard the monster he had to be, the monster Hojo was
determined to have. The monster he had been denied, he would create himself.
'Let Mother help you..."
Hojo instantly understood what he was to do.
"You monster. You fucking monster. Your mask is about to be torn from you,
you will be exposed for the demon you are. " Hojo grabbed seven of the hypodermics,
filled with the watery solution of chemicals and genomes that composed JENOVA's cells.
Without further thought, striking with the speed of an angered rattler, he injected the
poison into Vincent's veins, the needles descending in rapid succession, tossing the
empty needles away to shatter on the cement as he pumped the fresh ones into the
shell-shocked Valentine. He had fought the first one, but the cells quickly took effect,
leaving him stunned on the desk, paralyzed.
And JENOVA held sway over all. She assimilated herself among Vincent's own cells,
becoming one with them. She congregated them about his innards, fusing with them as well.
JENOVA settled herself down in her newest host, intent on reproducing her cells among his
own before they became dormant for the time being.
"Very good. I rather like this new residence, although the décor
isn't really to my liking. Ah, well. Much can be said for redecorating. I
love renovation, don't you dear?" JENOVA's smug voice echoed hollowly through Hojo's
soul, declaring her triumph.
Even as she spoke, blood vessels burst in Valentines teary eyes,
bathing the rich brown with bright crimson, the former warm color lost forever
to him. Blood red orbs gazed up at him, their expression one of numb bewilderment.
He began to tremble, possessed by a will not his own.
Dimly Vincent heard the crack of bones being shifted out of their natural order,
felt his muscles stretch painfully as they struggled to cover this new skeletal structure,
his skin following suit, becoming the leathery hide of a beast. Horns sprouted from his
now bestial skull, piercing the thick skin, sending rivulets of crimson through his newly
acquired mane and streaming down his face, mingling with tears of physical and spiritual
agony. Claws wormed their way from his massive paws like deranged flowers sprouting from
decaying soil watered with the blood and tears of an agonized lover.
Clutching his head in a vain attempt to alleviate the pain of these new, unfamiliar
accouterments, he uttered a howl of defeat that echoed through the basement,
resounding through the halls announcing his fate. Then the voices came.
" That man, he did this to you, he is the cause of your suffering.
He made you bleed, return the favor. Shred him to ribbons. Mother will deliver him
to you, you will avenge your sufferings. " The beast set its sights on its creator,
fangs dripping with its own blood which had coated them as they emerged from the tender
new gums.
Hojo froze, lowering his gaze to the final empty hypo,
paling as he realized just what he had done. He had sold yet another
soul to JENOVA, given another over to the devil he had resurrected from her
icy prison. And all for his desire for revenge, all in the name of making Crecia's
lover a monster. Hojo's hands began to tremble, dropping the syringe to shatter with
it's predecessors.
The devil of his own making now wished to settle up with its creator.
"Mother's here, don't fear. Our creation will not harm you, I will not let it.
Mother will protect you." Hojo stared numbly at this beast that was easing itself
to its feet, intent on feasting on his flesh. With a roar, the monster leapt towards Hojo,
fangs bared, ready to taste blood. It knocked the scientist onto the ground,
weighing him down like the fabled Night Mare, burying it's muzzle into his neck.
With no way to fight or flee, Hojo screwed his eyes shut, waiting to feel the
fangs pierce his jugular, bringing his miserable existence to an end once and for all.
The pain never came.
Cautiously, Hojo opened his eyes, wondering why he wasn't dead yet.
Valentine, bloody and broken, clothing torn to shreds lay on top of him, eyes
wide open, gasping for breath.
Utterly drained by this transformation, bruised and bloody, and red eyes filling
with hot salty tears, Vincent indeed looked the epitome of misery. Hojo drew himself
up into a sitting position, Vincent bonelessly sliding off of him to lay crumpled on
the cold cement floor. It was like this they sat for a long moment, Vincent utterly
confused and terrified by what had happened, and Hojo lost in thought.
Even as the monster of his own making, Valentine was simply not the image
Hojo had fabricated for his wife's lover. This torn, bleeding man was a far cry
from menacing at the moment, in fact, Hojo would be pressed to think of a more pathetic sight.
He had searched relentlessly for this monster he was convinced resided
in Valentine, and with JENOVA eased it out of hiding, oblivious the whole
time as to where the true monster lay sleeping, waiting for a chance to be released.
Inside of himself.
As much as it pained and frightened him to accept this, he realized he
was more of a monster than the red-eyed freak lying beside him had ever been.
Every man has his demons, but his demon had her man right where she wanted him.
He had brazenly defied JENOVA, convinced he had won this round, only to have the
tables turned on him almost instantly. When he had wished for a monster, he really
didn't want one that could tear his throat out. And he had heard the traitorous
bitch whispering to his rival, urging Valentine on to kill him. Two-faced wench.
And had she really forced him to transplant her cells into the man? Right
out forced him to? Or had she merely influenced him to do so, taking something
that had lingered in his mind all along, some perverse desire locked away deep
inside his secret heart? Perhaps the true demon wasn't Valentine, or even JENOVA.
Perhaps it was him.
He glanced over to Vincent, who had calmed down a little since
his transformation. Beads of sweat stood out on Vincent's pallid face,
running into his eyes. Vincent made no attempt to wipe it away, even though
the salty sweat stung his sensitive eyes like hell. Without thinking, Hojo
reached over and wiped his brow, sweeping the pink froth away. Vincent didn't
even acknowledge him, he merely retained his pained expression as he stared at his feet.
"Lucrecia...you were right...I am a monster..."
"My monster. My precious killing machine. Now don't sulk, it's not really
much different from your job as a hired goon. Mother has great plans for you..."
"Ah, Lucrecia..."
Hojo overheard this little one sided conversation between Vincent
and JENOVA. He thought the voices in his own head were bad enough, now he had
to deal with hearing the highly traitorous dialogue on Vincent's end. He smiled
bitterly; JENOVA was such a laugh sometimes. He knew she was aware he could hear
her, she knew, and probably derived her own sick enjoyment from it. He wondered i
f Vincent could hear what she told him. Probably.
"You know, she isn't on your side. Nor on mine, really. She's just playing
us against each other, as if we weren't already enemies. "
"He's just jealous, love. You know Mother thinks highly of you, Mother understands
you..." JENOVA sang, her voice seamlessly shifting into the voice of his beloved, not
missing a beat. "Vincent, you failed me, but let Mother help you, Mother will make
everything right again..." Vincent grimaced, burying his face in his hands to drown out
'Lucrecia's' voice. Hojo heard this as well, sighing tiredly. JENOVA could imitate
anyone she wanted, take their identity and use it against her prisoner. It had been
very unnerving and confusing to him the first few times, but he had caught on eventually.
As would Vincent.
"Vincent...for Mother to help you, you'll have to help her...do it for me,
Vincent. " JENOVA insisted, still hiding behind Lucrecia's voice. Vincent began to
shake, still holding his head.
"Lucrecia, please..." He replied out loud, his voice trembling with emotion.
Hojo shook his head, realizing JENOVA had him fooled. Why should he intervene? What
did he care if poor old Vincent went crazy thinking this false voice was 'Crecia's?
Well, because 'helping' JENOVA probably included attacking him again, perhaps this
time following through with the bite. If he had to die, by the gods he didn't want
it to be flat on his back smelling the beast's foul breath. Also, because JENOVA was
a back-stabbing bitch who wouldn't even bother to hide her plans from her other 'son'.
What did she take him for, an idiot? He knew if JENOVA really wanted to, she could
probably hide her words from Hojo with little effort. She had withheld her conversations
with Hojo from Lucrecia the entire 9 months, although she occasionally treated
him to her words with Crecia, mostly to point out to him that Lucrecia
was an unfaithful wench, as JENOVA had called her. She was just toying with him,
tormenting them both.
"You'll have to deal with our creation, he's not mentally stable, and could go off
at anytime...put him out of his misery, before he becomes violent. Mother will
show you how..."
JENOVA whispered in her normal voice to Hojo, while simultaneously masquerading
as Lucrecia with Vincent. Multi talented creature, indeed.
"That's not Lucrecia, Valentine. Ignore her. She's only trying to confuse you."
"'Crecia...what do I do?" Vincent mumbled, drawn into JENOVA's spell. Hojo
reached over and smacked him on the back of the head, not too hard, but it wasn't
just a mere tap either. Vincent stiffened, and hugged himself tightly, trying to
shut out Hojo's voice to better hear Lucrecia.
"Damn it Valentine.! That is not Lucrecia. It's JENOVA, and she's trying
to make you do her bidding. Don't listen to her." He growled, wrenching Vincent's
hands from his face. Vincent glared at him furiously; now he couldn't hear 'Crecia
anymore, and she had just been getting to the important part.
Something in the back of his head stirred, something hungry for blood.
"You...you made her leave...why did you do it? She was going to forgive me,
she promised to-" He began angrily, crimson eyes blazing with ire, only to be
cut off by JENOVA's sneering voice directed towards Hojo. He could indeed hear her
as well, but the voice was fuzzy, hard to pick out among the voices in his own head.
It took a certain amount of familiarity to distinguish JENOVA's voice clearly. Hojo
had plenty of practice recognizing JENOVA's voice, and soon Vincent would too.
"Hojo, love, do you really think you're stopping Mother from manipulating the
poor fool by pointing out the obvious? Don't make me laugh. People believe what they
want; and the fool wants to believe it's his lover. Anyway, I am only
having a little fun, playing with his mind. I enjoy watching him suffer.
Mother will have him do her biding eventually, then she'll see to his disposal.
If Mother really wanted to use him right now, there'd be nothing you could do to
stop me. I don't appreciate your attempts to foil me however, as pathetic as they
are. Mother has been so good to you, and this is how you repay her. Ingrate."
JENOVA hissed, tearing at Hojo's brain, making him cry out in pain.
Vincent watched all of this numbly, finally understanding her
trick. Hojo hadn't lied; she had been deceiving him after all. Suddenly he
realized this cruel voice was never going to leave him be, she would be a part
of him for the rest of his tortured existence. He would never have a moments peace,
she'd be in there, tormenting him with her illusions and his own guilt.
He had never been so frightened as he was now.
*end part two*
decided to split it into several parts, and post them within a few days of each other.
Thanks to darknightdestiny for the idea of splitting it up, it IS more manageable this way.
This is segment two, in which Vincent rants and raves, Hojo broods,
and JENOVA puts in an 'appearance'.
~ Rene (seasonofthepumpkin)
* * *
" I'm sorry, I'm sorry. So, so sorry."
Hojo raised his head from the clipboard he was busily filling out to stare over
at his patient, who seemed to be mumbling something over and over. "Three days later,
and still having your perverted dream? Hmph. What are you mumbling about, Turk?"
A sobbing noise came from the desk, a heart-rending sound that echoed lowly throughout
the room.
"Hmmm...it seems the anesthetic is wearing off. Are you awake?"
Tortured brown eyes stared up at him, brimming with hot, bitter tears. Vincent groaned,
turning his head away from the professor blinking back his tears. Hojo just stood there,
unsure of what to do about his ward now that he had him where he wanted him.
"I'm so sorry... I never wanted...it to end this...way. I'm sorry...I lied..."
Vincent choked out, his face twisted in inner turmoil, voicing Lucrecia's accusations
and his own guilt. He sniffed quietly, tears squeezing out of his eyes. Hojo watched with
silent interest as the man sobbed quietly, the tears creating clean tracks through the caked
blood on his pallid face.
"For god's sake, you're laying here crying over Lucrecia when tears won't change
anything. I thought Turks don't cry. Refreshing to know that you've a heart that can be
pierced beneath that cold dead shell of yours."
"I never...meant to lie to you Lucrecia..." Vincent's eyes were glazed over
with tears, almost opaque. He looked awful. More blood trickled from his lips, seemingly
unnoticed by the semi-conscious man, who continued his mumbling. "Never meant to- -"
Vincent's rambling was ended by a violent coughing fit, bringing up great clouts of blood.
Nonplused, he continued his words as soon as he could draw enough air to support them.
"Oh, gods..."
"Still delirious..." Hojo brushed thick black bangs out of Vincent's face,
skin clammy to the touch. "I could dope you up again, but I don't think I will. I'd
rather that you be coherent for now." Leaning over the Turks face, breath tickling the man's
forehead, he stared down into Vincent's deep brown eyes, unsure of what he was looking
for in there, perhaps the demon that had to be lurking inside of the man.
Vincent's eyes were truly beautiful ones, a deep, warm chocolate brown
that did not befit a murderous Turk such as himself. Eyes like polished agate,
simply stunning. Eyes one could lose themselves in for hours. Something stirred
deep in Hojo's soul, a malicious desire to rip those tearful eyes from the sockets,
rip them out and replace them with hellfire.
"...uhhn...Ho- Hojo? Wha-?" Vincent mumbled, squirming on the desk, only to
be held down by his captor. "L-let me go... where is she?" He thrashed as
hard as his numb, drugged body would allow, producing nothing more than a pathetic
wriggling. Hojo smiled smally in spite of himself. This would probably be the only
time a thin, weak scientist would manage to overpower a slim, not-so-weak Turk. It gave
him a sort of sick feeling, but also satisfaction, as many of his previous actions had.
His feelings had been quite ambiguous this entire time, part of him wanting to make
this man suffer, to make him pay for taking what was his, to see him writhe and squirm
uncomfortably, to punish him for sulking into his life and stealing her love away.
But another part of him felt almost guilty for doing this to the man his wife had
loved so dearly. Although Hojo wasn't exactly fond of the lecherous Turk, Lucrecia
had been, and harming him seemed almost like spitting on her memory.
He also wanted to talk to this Turk before doing anything more, but whether
this stemmed from a desire to rub salt in his already grievous wounds, or
from something completely different he could not say.
Now, he had what he had wished for, what he had worked so hard for, the chance
to speak to his wife's lover, to reduce him to tears, to tear him down to a heap
of frayed nerves, to make him suffer. He had achieved his aims, Vincent was laying
here helpless, utterly defenseless, but the victory was a bitter one.
Knowing virtually nothing of his wife's lover other than that he was a Turk,
and scarcely having spoken to him before tonight, he had expected a defiant, self-assured,
soul-less killing machine, a true monster, while what struggled beneath him was a
delirious, bewildered young man. This was not what he wanted, he wanted the aforementioned
brute, someone he could hate and feel no remorse in destroying. He didn't
want this tearful, pathetic youth who had already ceased his struggling, too drugged to fight any longer.
In short, this wasn't the confrontation he had envisioned.
There must be a mistake, this couldn't be the monster he had
fabricated in his mind. Perhaps it was the drugs, yes, that had to be it.
He must still be drugged, tranquilized, sedated, whatever you wished to call it.
Feeling only a little better, he began his tirade, trying to ignore the sinking
sensation in his guts.
"You could have had any girl you wanted. But no, it had to be my 'Crecia.
If you had only kept your filthy hands off what didn't belong to you,
you wouldn't be here now. It's only human to want what you can't have though,
so I can't blame you too much. I do wonder how I can even consider a monster
like you to be human, however. Goddamned Turk.
And you said I 'forced' Lucrecia to do something I knew would harm her,
against her will.
Oh, I don't think of it like that. Lucrecia wanted this as much as I did.
Don't you realize that? She wanted to contribute to this project, she wanted
to be a part of it all. Even though her resolution wavered towards the end,
(thanks to your ignorant doom-saying of course) she really wanted this.
You wanted her to be happy, no? She was happy, until you had to prick her
conscience with your 'morals'. You made 'Crecia more unhappy than I ever did."
Hojo regarded Vincent with an expectant eye as he made this statement, waiting for
his inevitable counter remark. Surely now the man would drop this façade, and reveal
himself as the noxious creature he truly was.
He wasn't disappointed, Vincent gazed up at him with teary eyes, and painstakingly
forced out his rebuttal.
"...why couldn't you just let her go? You wouldn't treat her as she deserved,
but yet you wouldn't let her go to someone who would." Although he had started out
strongly, Vincent's voice grew weaker as he choked this out, clenching his eyes
shut as a wave of pain washed over him.
His dreams of insanity and madness had already destroyed him, given him all
the guilt he could handle, had broken him utterly. He felt no right to defend himself,
he was a monster, his own beloved had told him that. Hojo could call him whatever he
wanted, and Vincent wouldn't argue with him.
Hojo merely stood there, unsure of what to say. He had expected a vicious
verbal assault, with all of the profanity and scatological remarks Vincent could force
out in three or four gasps of air. Once again, things did not play out the way he had
imagined. No matter, Hojo still refused to accept what became more and more apparent
by the moment. He still stuck by his decision that the man was the foulest beast to ever
walk the face of the Planet.
And he would have him expose himself as such, before he would rest this night.
"Don't give me that nonsense, you stupid Turk. Playing the martyr isn't
going to fool me. I know what you are, and no mask will cover it up. Hmph. Tell
me, was she good in bed? Did you enjoy knowing you were screwing another man's pregnant wife?
Was that the true thrill, the real reason you wanted her? Because she was someone
else's? Well? Answer me."
Poking Vincent's shoulder impatiently, he ignored the visible pain crossing Vincent's face.
"I loved her. I really did. I never meant...to hurt her."
Vincent began to sit up again, only to be shoved backwards against the desk again,
weakly crying out as he slammed against the unforgiving wood.
No, no, no, no, no. This wasn't what he was supposed to say, not how he was supposed to act.
Why did he just lay there and take these insults, only replying to defend Crecia?
He was supposed to threaten, yell, curse, and fight to defend his disgusting actions,
not just lay here like a broken toy and sniffle about Lucrecia. He wasn't supposed to
be defending her, because he didn't care about her, he only wanted to take her from him.
He wasn't supposed to look so sorry, at least not yet. He was supposed to be unrepentant
till the end. He was supposed to be a fucking monster, for Chrissakes! How could he enjoy
tearing down this already broken man? Hojo hated him for not being something he could
easily hate, hated him for being so despicably weak and human.
Hojo fixed him with glassy, unfocused eyes, any trace of sanity or remote humanity gone
far from him, leaving only rage and startling intellect, a dangerous combination.
Rage is well known to surpass reason, the former easily overcoming the latter.
JENOVA sensed this, this loss of control. Now was the time. She would
achieve her ends, and also have her own revenge, on both her puppet and his rival.
She smiled benignly, already anticipating the havoc she would wreak upon entering
her newest host.
And from the dark recesses of this fractured mind, issued a warm voice,
coaxing the unthinkable.
"Fix him. Make him sorry. You can do it, Mother will help you...."
He had to have something worthy of his hatred, something he could make suffer
without any remorse. He just couldn't truly hate this pathetic Turk on his own
merits without feeling terribly guilty. This man loved Lucrecia, loved her, he
could see that. Valentine had cherished 'Crecia, and losing her was the most
devastating blow he could ever have received.
For a long moment he paused, wondering why it had to be this way, why he would
even want to hate someone who loved her so, who had made her happy, if only for a
while, who would have given his life for hers in a heartbeat. Wouldn't hating him
be terribly selfish on his part? After all, his quarrel had nothing to do with
loving her, it was all about the fact Vincent had stolen from him.
Stolen...immediately Hojo's heart hardened at the reminder of his hatred. Oh,
he couldn't get away with this, he just couldn't! The bastard. He had taken her
from him, maybe if Vincent had never come along, Lucrecia would have still loved him.
Maybe it wouldn't have ended like this, perhaps they all could have been happy if he
had never met 'Crecia. He had to pay. But how?
Hojo's eyes were drawn to the cache of JENOVA cells already prepared in shining
hypodermics, the remnant of Lucrecia's bi-weekly 'treatments'. It would be so easy to
just grab a few, and make this bastard the monster he had to be, the monster Hojo was
determined to have. The monster he had been denied, he would create himself.
'Let Mother help you..."
Hojo instantly understood what he was to do.
"You monster. You fucking monster. Your mask is about to be torn from you,
you will be exposed for the demon you are. " Hojo grabbed seven of the hypodermics,
filled with the watery solution of chemicals and genomes that composed JENOVA's cells.
Without further thought, striking with the speed of an angered rattler, he injected the
poison into Vincent's veins, the needles descending in rapid succession, tossing the
empty needles away to shatter on the cement as he pumped the fresh ones into the
shell-shocked Valentine. He had fought the first one, but the cells quickly took effect,
leaving him stunned on the desk, paralyzed.
And JENOVA held sway over all. She assimilated herself among Vincent's own cells,
becoming one with them. She congregated them about his innards, fusing with them as well.
JENOVA settled herself down in her newest host, intent on reproducing her cells among his
own before they became dormant for the time being.
"Very good. I rather like this new residence, although the décor
isn't really to my liking. Ah, well. Much can be said for redecorating. I
love renovation, don't you dear?" JENOVA's smug voice echoed hollowly through Hojo's
soul, declaring her triumph.
Even as she spoke, blood vessels burst in Valentines teary eyes,
bathing the rich brown with bright crimson, the former warm color lost forever
to him. Blood red orbs gazed up at him, their expression one of numb bewilderment.
He began to tremble, possessed by a will not his own.
Dimly Vincent heard the crack of bones being shifted out of their natural order,
felt his muscles stretch painfully as they struggled to cover this new skeletal structure,
his skin following suit, becoming the leathery hide of a beast. Horns sprouted from his
now bestial skull, piercing the thick skin, sending rivulets of crimson through his newly
acquired mane and streaming down his face, mingling with tears of physical and spiritual
agony. Claws wormed their way from his massive paws like deranged flowers sprouting from
decaying soil watered with the blood and tears of an agonized lover.
Clutching his head in a vain attempt to alleviate the pain of these new, unfamiliar
accouterments, he uttered a howl of defeat that echoed through the basement,
resounding through the halls announcing his fate. Then the voices came.
" That man, he did this to you, he is the cause of your suffering.
He made you bleed, return the favor. Shred him to ribbons. Mother will deliver him
to you, you will avenge your sufferings. " The beast set its sights on its creator,
fangs dripping with its own blood which had coated them as they emerged from the tender
new gums.
Hojo froze, lowering his gaze to the final empty hypo,
paling as he realized just what he had done. He had sold yet another
soul to JENOVA, given another over to the devil he had resurrected from her
icy prison. And all for his desire for revenge, all in the name of making Crecia's
lover a monster. Hojo's hands began to tremble, dropping the syringe to shatter with
it's predecessors.
The devil of his own making now wished to settle up with its creator.
"Mother's here, don't fear. Our creation will not harm you, I will not let it.
Mother will protect you." Hojo stared numbly at this beast that was easing itself
to its feet, intent on feasting on his flesh. With a roar, the monster leapt towards Hojo,
fangs bared, ready to taste blood. It knocked the scientist onto the ground,
weighing him down like the fabled Night Mare, burying it's muzzle into his neck.
With no way to fight or flee, Hojo screwed his eyes shut, waiting to feel the
fangs pierce his jugular, bringing his miserable existence to an end once and for all.
The pain never came.
Cautiously, Hojo opened his eyes, wondering why he wasn't dead yet.
Valentine, bloody and broken, clothing torn to shreds lay on top of him, eyes
wide open, gasping for breath.
Utterly drained by this transformation, bruised and bloody, and red eyes filling
with hot salty tears, Vincent indeed looked the epitome of misery. Hojo drew himself
up into a sitting position, Vincent bonelessly sliding off of him to lay crumpled on
the cold cement floor. It was like this they sat for a long moment, Vincent utterly
confused and terrified by what had happened, and Hojo lost in thought.
Even as the monster of his own making, Valentine was simply not the image
Hojo had fabricated for his wife's lover. This torn, bleeding man was a far cry
from menacing at the moment, in fact, Hojo would be pressed to think of a more pathetic sight.
He had searched relentlessly for this monster he was convinced resided
in Valentine, and with JENOVA eased it out of hiding, oblivious the whole
time as to where the true monster lay sleeping, waiting for a chance to be released.
Inside of himself.
As much as it pained and frightened him to accept this, he realized he
was more of a monster than the red-eyed freak lying beside him had ever been.
Every man has his demons, but his demon had her man right where she wanted him.
He had brazenly defied JENOVA, convinced he had won this round, only to have the
tables turned on him almost instantly. When he had wished for a monster, he really
didn't want one that could tear his throat out. And he had heard the traitorous
bitch whispering to his rival, urging Valentine on to kill him. Two-faced wench.
And had she really forced him to transplant her cells into the man? Right
out forced him to? Or had she merely influenced him to do so, taking something
that had lingered in his mind all along, some perverse desire locked away deep
inside his secret heart? Perhaps the true demon wasn't Valentine, or even JENOVA.
Perhaps it was him.
He glanced over to Vincent, who had calmed down a little since
his transformation. Beads of sweat stood out on Vincent's pallid face,
running into his eyes. Vincent made no attempt to wipe it away, even though
the salty sweat stung his sensitive eyes like hell. Without thinking, Hojo
reached over and wiped his brow, sweeping the pink froth away. Vincent didn't
even acknowledge him, he merely retained his pained expression as he stared at his feet.
"Lucrecia...you were right...I am a monster..."
"My monster. My precious killing machine. Now don't sulk, it's not really
much different from your job as a hired goon. Mother has great plans for you..."
"Ah, Lucrecia..."
Hojo overheard this little one sided conversation between Vincent
and JENOVA. He thought the voices in his own head were bad enough, now he had
to deal with hearing the highly traitorous dialogue on Vincent's end. He smiled
bitterly; JENOVA was such a laugh sometimes. He knew she was aware he could hear
her, she knew, and probably derived her own sick enjoyment from it. He wondered i
f Vincent could hear what she told him. Probably.
"You know, she isn't on your side. Nor on mine, really. She's just playing
us against each other, as if we weren't already enemies. "
"He's just jealous, love. You know Mother thinks highly of you, Mother understands
you..." JENOVA sang, her voice seamlessly shifting into the voice of his beloved, not
missing a beat. "Vincent, you failed me, but let Mother help you, Mother will make
everything right again..." Vincent grimaced, burying his face in his hands to drown out
'Lucrecia's' voice. Hojo heard this as well, sighing tiredly. JENOVA could imitate
anyone she wanted, take their identity and use it against her prisoner. It had been
very unnerving and confusing to him the first few times, but he had caught on eventually.
As would Vincent.
"Vincent...for Mother to help you, you'll have to help her...do it for me,
Vincent. " JENOVA insisted, still hiding behind Lucrecia's voice. Vincent began to
shake, still holding his head.
"Lucrecia, please..." He replied out loud, his voice trembling with emotion.
Hojo shook his head, realizing JENOVA had him fooled. Why should he intervene? What
did he care if poor old Vincent went crazy thinking this false voice was 'Crecia's?
Well, because 'helping' JENOVA probably included attacking him again, perhaps this
time following through with the bite. If he had to die, by the gods he didn't want
it to be flat on his back smelling the beast's foul breath. Also, because JENOVA was
a back-stabbing bitch who wouldn't even bother to hide her plans from her other 'son'.
What did she take him for, an idiot? He knew if JENOVA really wanted to, she could
probably hide her words from Hojo with little effort. She had withheld her conversations
with Hojo from Lucrecia the entire 9 months, although she occasionally treated
him to her words with Crecia, mostly to point out to him that Lucrecia
was an unfaithful wench, as JENOVA had called her. She was just toying with him,
tormenting them both.
"You'll have to deal with our creation, he's not mentally stable, and could go off
at anytime...put him out of his misery, before he becomes violent. Mother will
show you how..."
JENOVA whispered in her normal voice to Hojo, while simultaneously masquerading
as Lucrecia with Vincent. Multi talented creature, indeed.
"That's not Lucrecia, Valentine. Ignore her. She's only trying to confuse you."
"'Crecia...what do I do?" Vincent mumbled, drawn into JENOVA's spell. Hojo
reached over and smacked him on the back of the head, not too hard, but it wasn't
just a mere tap either. Vincent stiffened, and hugged himself tightly, trying to
shut out Hojo's voice to better hear Lucrecia.
"Damn it Valentine.! That is not Lucrecia. It's JENOVA, and she's trying
to make you do her bidding. Don't listen to her." He growled, wrenching Vincent's
hands from his face. Vincent glared at him furiously; now he couldn't hear 'Crecia
anymore, and she had just been getting to the important part.
Something in the back of his head stirred, something hungry for blood.
"You...you made her leave...why did you do it? She was going to forgive me,
she promised to-" He began angrily, crimson eyes blazing with ire, only to be
cut off by JENOVA's sneering voice directed towards Hojo. He could indeed hear her
as well, but the voice was fuzzy, hard to pick out among the voices in his own head.
It took a certain amount of familiarity to distinguish JENOVA's voice clearly. Hojo
had plenty of practice recognizing JENOVA's voice, and soon Vincent would too.
"Hojo, love, do you really think you're stopping Mother from manipulating the
poor fool by pointing out the obvious? Don't make me laugh. People believe what they
want; and the fool wants to believe it's his lover. Anyway, I am only
having a little fun, playing with his mind. I enjoy watching him suffer.
Mother will have him do her biding eventually, then she'll see to his disposal.
If Mother really wanted to use him right now, there'd be nothing you could do to
stop me. I don't appreciate your attempts to foil me however, as pathetic as they
are. Mother has been so good to you, and this is how you repay her. Ingrate."
JENOVA hissed, tearing at Hojo's brain, making him cry out in pain.
Vincent watched all of this numbly, finally understanding her
trick. Hojo hadn't lied; she had been deceiving him after all. Suddenly he
realized this cruel voice was never going to leave him be, she would be a part
of him for the rest of his tortured existence. He would never have a moments peace,
she'd be in there, tormenting him with her illusions and his own guilt.
He had never been so frightened as he was now.
*end part two*