AN:
This is part thirteen. Things are finally starting to wind down as you can probably see.
As always, props to darknightdestiny
who's helped me with so much stuff it's not even funny. And props to everyone
who reads this. Thanks for your reviews, I can't tell you how much they mean to
me.
* * *
Vincent felt a prick in his neck. He flinched, he hadn't see
the needle come up while Hojo had distracted him. "I don't
doubt that we will meet again. And when we do, I'm sure you'll
still have your grudge. As will I. So, until then...I'll leave you to your
dreams." Vincent blinked. His eyelids seemed to be growing extraordinarily
heavy. He wasn't sure that Hojo had stopped talking, he could still hear a
faint buzz that became dimmer, and eventually faded.
He'd felt like this before...right after being shot by Hojo.
He supposed he was dying again. Good. Or maybe it was another of those
fake deaths, like he'd suffered earlier. He'd always heard so much about it,
his fellow Turks boasting about how they'd narrowly escaped death countless
times in the course of their career. Well, he had them all beat...he'd experienced
the brink of death twice in less then a week. But he didn't feel like boasting
right now. He lay back and let the chemicals do their work.
And just like that he was asleep.
Hojo looked down on him, tiredly. Well, he was finally out of
the way, thanks to Gast's lovely chemicals. Now if they only worked. He'd
screwed around with hem, hoping to make them more potent, and he now regretted
that somewhat. What if he had made it ineffective? Well, time would tell,
and he hoped to be out of here before it told.
He looked...dead. Hojo supposed that was a good thing,
after all the stuff was supposed to put the subject into a sort of hibernation,
a sleep that wouldn't be woken from very easily. It'd probably take a good hard jolt
to wake him from it. At least he wouldn't be up wreaking havoc, not any time soon.
He looked down at his chest, not surprised to see that the wound had begun
to close up already, although he still felt the pain. Ah well... JENOVA could be
poky sometimes, but she always managed to come through. He absentmindedly
traced Valentine's jawbone, noting that the skin was already beginning to
cool. So far, so good. Hopefully, his 'alterations' to the
formula would make the stuff slow down his metabolism almost to the
point of death. Screw hibernation, he wanted to achieve the next level.
A static state, living death, preservation. If all went well,
he'd stay like this for quite a long time. A few years, maybe longer.
And if Vincent woke up before he was ready to deal with him...well...he
didn't want to think about it.
At the very least he'd be in for a few weeks of torment, slowly
starving to death in the tiny room, reduced to catching rats and other
goodies until he eventually expired of dehydration and starvation.
But perhaps JENOVA would find a way to sustain him, to keep him alive
even through the shortage of sustenance. She did funny things,
and it certainly wouldn't be beyond her power to do that. One thing
he'd learned about her, JENOVA did what she damned well pleased,
and no one, not him, not Gast, not the laws of science and
nature or the gods themselves could stop her. She was quite ambitious;
you had to give her that.
And at the worst...no, he definitely didn't want to think about that.
No, better that he remain in stasis until he was better equipped to deal with him,
or that he starve to death. Better for both of them.
He did intend to return for him. Once he was ready to deal with him,
that was. When he'd discovered a way to lessen some of the damage done, to
perhaps loosen JENOVA's grasp on him a little.
He was sure he could do it, after all what had been done could conceivably be
undone, and as for preventing JENOVA from using him as her destroyer, if he 'fixed'
Valentine's 'problems' he'd be weaker, and not as appealing to JENOVA. At least
he hoped he wouldn't be. Weak was no good to JENOVA.
"I suppose I better stay good and useful, or she'll have no use for me as well,"
he said, wincing as he slowly nudged the lid back onto the coffin.
Now that the pale face was covered, and the monster sealed away
where he could cause no mischief Hojo should have felt better, but
he didn't. He felt somewhat disheartened, almost saddened to see him go.
Saddened? His eyes widened at that. Saddened? This man...no,
he'd been through that all before, and didn't want to think about it right
now. He hated him. If he could have killed Valentine, and been sure he'd stay
dead he would have sent him to hell in the beginning. His lust for
revenge had prevented that, and caused this entire mess, but still,
he blamed Vincent. He deserved hellfire, as much as he himself did.
He'd merely settled for the second best thing, a long slumber where he
could stew, and let his memories torment him.
Hojo looked back one last time before shutting the door, and then
slowly made his way down the hall, and up the stairs. He ignored the mess in
the library, not caring about the clutter anymore. He carefully made
his way up the dusty circular stairway, each creak sounding louder
than a thunderclap to him. "And don't look down", he mumbled, climbing the steps one by one,
"you know what they say about looking down after all." He paused at
the top, and despite his words, looked down.
"Feh, I hope you sleep well, Valentine, and I also wish
you all the nightmares your festering soul can contrive. I hope you're
hurting right now, I really do. I want to wish you the worst,
the very worst I can, just to prove my hatred for you." that much said, he
turned to go, but lingered for another moment at the top step staring down
at the faint light at the end of the hall. Then he continued on his way.
This is part thirteen. Things are finally starting to wind down as you can probably see.
As always, props to darknightdestiny
who's helped me with so much stuff it's not even funny. And props to everyone
who reads this. Thanks for your reviews, I can't tell you how much they mean to
me.
* * *
Vincent felt a prick in his neck. He flinched, he hadn't see
the needle come up while Hojo had distracted him. "I don't
doubt that we will meet again. And when we do, I'm sure you'll
still have your grudge. As will I. So, until then...I'll leave you to your
dreams." Vincent blinked. His eyelids seemed to be growing extraordinarily
heavy. He wasn't sure that Hojo had stopped talking, he could still hear a
faint buzz that became dimmer, and eventually faded.
He'd felt like this before...right after being shot by Hojo.
He supposed he was dying again. Good. Or maybe it was another of those
fake deaths, like he'd suffered earlier. He'd always heard so much about it,
his fellow Turks boasting about how they'd narrowly escaped death countless
times in the course of their career. Well, he had them all beat...he'd experienced
the brink of death twice in less then a week. But he didn't feel like boasting
right now. He lay back and let the chemicals do their work.
And just like that he was asleep.
Hojo looked down on him, tiredly. Well, he was finally out of
the way, thanks to Gast's lovely chemicals. Now if they only worked. He'd
screwed around with hem, hoping to make them more potent, and he now regretted
that somewhat. What if he had made it ineffective? Well, time would tell,
and he hoped to be out of here before it told.
He looked...dead. Hojo supposed that was a good thing,
after all the stuff was supposed to put the subject into a sort of hibernation,
a sleep that wouldn't be woken from very easily. It'd probably take a good hard jolt
to wake him from it. At least he wouldn't be up wreaking havoc, not any time soon.
He looked down at his chest, not surprised to see that the wound had begun
to close up already, although he still felt the pain. Ah well... JENOVA could be
poky sometimes, but she always managed to come through. He absentmindedly
traced Valentine's jawbone, noting that the skin was already beginning to
cool. So far, so good. Hopefully, his 'alterations' to the
formula would make the stuff slow down his metabolism almost to the
point of death. Screw hibernation, he wanted to achieve the next level.
A static state, living death, preservation. If all went well,
he'd stay like this for quite a long time. A few years, maybe longer.
And if Vincent woke up before he was ready to deal with him...well...he
didn't want to think about it.
At the very least he'd be in for a few weeks of torment, slowly
starving to death in the tiny room, reduced to catching rats and other
goodies until he eventually expired of dehydration and starvation.
But perhaps JENOVA would find a way to sustain him, to keep him alive
even through the shortage of sustenance. She did funny things,
and it certainly wouldn't be beyond her power to do that. One thing
he'd learned about her, JENOVA did what she damned well pleased,
and no one, not him, not Gast, not the laws of science and
nature or the gods themselves could stop her. She was quite ambitious;
you had to give her that.
And at the worst...no, he definitely didn't want to think about that.
No, better that he remain in stasis until he was better equipped to deal with him,
or that he starve to death. Better for both of them.
He did intend to return for him. Once he was ready to deal with him,
that was. When he'd discovered a way to lessen some of the damage done, to
perhaps loosen JENOVA's grasp on him a little.
He was sure he could do it, after all what had been done could conceivably be
undone, and as for preventing JENOVA from using him as her destroyer, if he 'fixed'
Valentine's 'problems' he'd be weaker, and not as appealing to JENOVA. At least
he hoped he wouldn't be. Weak was no good to JENOVA.
"I suppose I better stay good and useful, or she'll have no use for me as well,"
he said, wincing as he slowly nudged the lid back onto the coffin.
Now that the pale face was covered, and the monster sealed away
where he could cause no mischief Hojo should have felt better, but
he didn't. He felt somewhat disheartened, almost saddened to see him go.
Saddened? His eyes widened at that. Saddened? This man...no,
he'd been through that all before, and didn't want to think about it right
now. He hated him. If he could have killed Valentine, and been sure he'd stay
dead he would have sent him to hell in the beginning. His lust for
revenge had prevented that, and caused this entire mess, but still,
he blamed Vincent. He deserved hellfire, as much as he himself did.
He'd merely settled for the second best thing, a long slumber where he
could stew, and let his memories torment him.
Hojo looked back one last time before shutting the door, and then
slowly made his way down the hall, and up the stairs. He ignored the mess in
the library, not caring about the clutter anymore. He carefully made
his way up the dusty circular stairway, each creak sounding louder
than a thunderclap to him. "And don't look down", he mumbled, climbing the steps one by one,
"you know what they say about looking down after all." He paused at
the top, and despite his words, looked down.
"Feh, I hope you sleep well, Valentine, and I also wish
you all the nightmares your festering soul can contrive. I hope you're
hurting right now, I really do. I want to wish you the worst,
the very worst I can, just to prove my hatred for you." that much said, he
turned to go, but lingered for another moment at the top step staring down
at the faint light at the end of the hall. Then he continued on his way.