End of A Reality
by DarkMutatedBrock and Blue9Tiger
*~*~* Legal Stuff: BigMac is copyright to McDonald's.
B9T: Important announcement: due to circumstances beyond our control, DMB is no longer able to continue the fic. I'm indefinitely replacing her, so it's going to suck really soon, but I'll try and make it half as good, at least. Anyway, this is the last chapter that she has contributed her genius to the fic. So, starting in the middle of the last segment, if it begins to get horrible, no questions need to be asked why.
*~*~*
She had to force her way out. That was all that she knew. They wanted her to stay there. They had taken every precaution to make sure she stayed there. Where was there? Where was here, for that matter?
A ragged piece of fabric tore on a protruding branch. She was barely covered by shreds of material that appeared to be the remains of a shirt, letting the chill of the northern forest penetrate her bruised flesh. Only the imminent danger behind her drove her to trudge through the wood, on her hands and knees, shuddering from the bitter cold, faltering at projecting tree stumps, blindly pushing through the obstructing forest.
White, soft, cold.....
Snow greeted her at the timberline. An endless expanse of snow, white all around. A cut decided to open, trickling blood on the snow, staining it a dark red. Her knees staggered, and was reduced to crawling. A desperate swim through the vast whiteness, the rising cold numbing her fingers that clutched each untrod patch of snow as if it was life itself. Every inch was reached with more and more difficulty. The woman's strength was completely spent. With one final futile effort to crawl another inch, the side of her face plunged into the snow.
A far-off light glittered in her blurring vision, amongst what seemed like-- --houses? Before she could see anything more, her strength gave out and she was swallowed in the jaws of unconsciousness.
*~*~*
FEBRUARY 20, ---- 3:37 PM (18 years before current date)
Camera turns around; pans out around a forest with minor jerks and jiggles; the footage is obviously being shot on home video by an amateur. A voice is heard, apparently from the person who is operating the camera.
Man 1: Here we are on the outskirts of Pewter, in Viridian Forest... in case the date is wrong, it's February..... Me and Flint here are looking for a setting for the short film we want to do....
Camera turns around and zooms in on the fuzzy form of a man estimated to be in his early twenties; the camera's focus adjust and we can see that the man is dressed in heavy winter clothing, including black ski pants, large brown boots, and an oversized blue jacket. His face and hair are visible; his skin is a light brown, and his hair is a dark brown and seems to stick out in every direction. His face appears to have high cheekbones and narrow eyes.
Man 1: See, there he is, looking like an idiot as he stands in the snow.... HEY, FLINT!!! Ya said you'd grow into that stuff when you bought it!!!
Flint: (Looks up, grins at the camera.) Hey, I'll bet I could criticize you if you were the one on camera, Dude! So shut up and start looking for a cave or something if you want to make the damn tape!
Man 1 (named "Dude"?): (Laughs.) Yeah, yeah, whatever.....
Camera starts moving up and down as Dude walks forward in the snow.
Dude: Aw, damn, don't want to waste the battery....
Camera is turned off.
--First segment of tape #12683, titled: "UNOFFICIAL RECORD OF POST- DITTWO/PRE-GEMINI PROJECTS" Subscript reads: FOUND ON INTRUDERS #1 AND #2 (FLINT BRAVESTONE & DUDELY [LAST NAME UNKNOWN]; NOT TAPED BY PLANETOUCH MEMBERS." Confiscated from illegal underground lab located in Viridian Forest eleven years before current date. Archived by the PRPL (Pokémon Rights Protection League). *~*~*
Chapter 13: Sympathy for the Devil
He stood at the window, his clear eyes gazing out at the calm skies and the white clouds which floated over the calm, green lands that stretched out for miles. Houses and small buildings interrupted the view here and there, but that was to be expected in such an area as this...
The figure sighed, raising a pale, slender hand to his forehead and pushing a few strands of white hair out of his calm, creaseless face. The clouds suddenly parted in the sky and sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the figure in a blurred, surreal halo.
The figure closed his eyes and then opened them again. They were brilliant white, as if the sunlight itself was being absorbed through them and displayed for all to see. However, the glow emanated was soft and kind, which matched the overall look of the figure; his body seemed thin, almost to the point of fragility, and a white robe hung from his shoulders to his feet, which were bare and seemed to hover just a milimeter over the ground-- -but that could have been a simple trick of the light, just like the way his garment seemed to flow about him like a solidified form of thin air, uninhibited by gravity or any other force of nature.
The figure paused, as if thinking deeply about something or other, and put his hands on the sill of the window leaning forward toward the sun and closing his eyes, as if bathing in its radiance. A smile touched the corners of his lips, a warm, peaceful smile filled with unimaginable charisma.
The scattered light caught a blur of movement along the dirt path, a steady, unswerving motion that left an even rut worn into the road from making this trip a number of times. It entered the tranquil man's sight, nearing the window as the form of a girl on a bicycle deviated from her current course and pointed it off the road, taking a shortcut through the grass. As she rode, her jet-black hair whipped across her bright-eyed visage. Her headband didn't seem to be accomplishing its purpose, but that didn't matter. Her destination was just up the hill.
The figure continued to stand there, his calm eyes still upon the sky as he detected the padding of sneakers upon the floor beneath him, and then the sound of those same sneakers coming up the stairs and into the hallway that led to the very room he was standing in. However, he didn't move a muscle, and he continued to stand with his hands on the sill and his head poised toward the sky. The only thing that moved was his robe, which flowed around him as the waves flowed around a vessel in the sea, and his stark white hair, which fell down to his shoulders and seemed to be lifted effortlessly by the wind which found its way through the window.
With a shrill screech of tires, the girl stopped her bicycle and jumped off, landing lightly on road. She kicked down the metal stand, letting the bicycle lurch to one side, and headed for the door, the pleasant heat of the sun warming her back. It was indeed a beautiful day, one of nature's masterpieces painted with tedious effort. She didn't let it go to waste, and took a whiff of the refreshing air before she rapped on the door.
"Grandpa?"
The figure heard the knock and the voice two floors below, but continued to stand in that sunlight, as if nothing else from heaven to the Earth to hell didn't matter. He turned his head slightly when the knocking continued, and smiled slightly, turning away once more.
"Come in, but he's not here...."
His voice was soft and warm and somehow quiet, even as its sound drifted into the room below and made itself heard to the visitor.
The girl hesitated, her fingers clasping onto the brass doorknob. She knew her grandfather was expecting no guests. It was true that he hadn't been very sociable since he started on some important project. In fact, he had become downright reclusive, speaking to no one save for his perenially eager assistant from the Orange Archipelago.
"That's funny.....wonder who that could be?" she mused as she cautiously turned the knob and swung the door open, letting it knock into the adjacent wall. She entered casually, walking around the furnished room, finding no sign of the stranger anywhere. She searched the first floor of the house, but found no one. Finally her hand came to rest on the banister, and she made her way to the second floor, climbing the staircase. A closed door immediately met her sight, and out of sheer curiosity, she walked towards it, with some caution. She tried the knob. It was unlocked. Caution dispersing, she pushed the door open, the slender figure of a man greeting her eyes. There was silence for nearly thirty seconds, as if the figure hadn't noticed her, until he cocked his head to the side as he still looked toward the sun.
"Lovely day, isn't it?" He said in that same quiet, peaceful voice that resounded as if upon pure gold.
"Yeah...it's beautiful," the girl agreed, brushing a strand of stray black over her ears. She stayed in the doorway. Though appreciative of beauty and those who thought the same, she couldn't help but feel a tad wary about the stranger. There was something...not right about him.
The stranger closed his eyes and turned towards the girl, smiling. "Indeed. With a day like this, it would be hard to predict that the world will soon end.... Would it not, girl?"
He opened his eyes, such warm beacons of light, and yet.... somehow..... completely... impure.... Unassuming as she was, the girl couldn't help but percieve that gaze of a tainted soul, with bane of all natures lurking behind a paper-thin facade of angelic purity.
"Uh-huh---yeah," she returned him an incredulous glance. What was this guy talking about? End of the world? In her time? Get real!
Nevertheless, she was startled when he replied suddenly, as if he sensed her doubt. More importantly, as if he disapproved of it, as that golden smle dispersed into a discontented frown. .He glided away from the window in her direction, his robes sweeping the floor with heavenly grace. He stopped a foot apart from her, and his cloud-like voice filled the room again with the ringing of a winged bell.
"If humanity's opinion is reflected in your cynicism, the end won't be long in coming."
The girl was growing less and less at ease in the presence of this cryptic man. If there was any advice her grandfather gave that she listened to, it was to never trust the drivel of preachers. Science was the guiding light in the screwed-up world of theirs. Being as polite as the sister of such a stuck-up snob such as her brother was, she replied, "Um---right." Her sneakers squeaking on the hard floor, she strayed towards a piece of furniture leaning on the wall, and glanced about.
"Did Grandpa say he was going out?"
The ringing escalated to a faint shrill gong, as if announcing a doom directly from the heavens.
"Why would you want to know? It won't matter if he goes out or stays in, for the end will come."
"Not this century," the girl scoffed. "Grandpa says that meteor's going to miss Earth by a few thousand miles---"
She stopped. The man's tainted eyes bore into her, halting her breath in her throat. They sparked no change, were still white, still aglow, but veiling a surfacing threat. For the first time, the robed man laughed, dainty and without much force, and yet he managed to maintain a severe tone.
"This Earth is more resiliant than that, to be destroyed by a pebble. Girl, the end of this world will be brought by a flood."
"My family's not religious. How do you expect me to believe a stupid thing like that?" she answered, asserting her role as temporary mistress of the house.Indeed, her brother hadn't shown up in her totally, but enough managed to ooze out from the cracks of her unassuming nature.
Bad timing.
The man quieted, turned around, stared towards the placid skies, and turned around again, an unearthly aura of pale white bathing him in its limitless opalescense, crowning him with shimmering authority. Without a change in his harmless expression, he outstretched his palm in front of her face.
"Easy. You will be the first to fall when the end arrives, you who is so against its coming."
He raised his hand level with the side of his face, an unseen energy pulling up the girl from the floor and suspending her in the midair. There he locked her in place. No amount of squirming would get her anywhere. Now she really was in a fix. She should've gotten out of there while she still could..but, too late for that.The angel of death was forming an energy blast directed straight at her. It engulfed the room with its intense glow, forcing her to shut her eyes and wait for it to be over...if she was alive after the blow had fallen.
The death knell exploded into a sick elegy.
"Let this be a reminder that the end will bring pain to your race FAR worse than this."
May Oak screamed louder than she ever had in her life as the ray of raw energy rammed into her entire body..
*~*~*
"I'm just asking one damn thing, and one damn thing alone...." Cid stepped out of his quarters, his hair a mess, black bags under his eyes, and tying his bathrobe around his waist as he shivered and pulled his bedroom slippers on. He began stumbling forward, reaching for the hallway lightswitch. He finally found it in the dark and flicked it up, but nothing happened. His blue eyes narrowed as his scowl deepened, and he flipped the switch several more times before he finally let out a low "SHIT" and clenched his fists as he looked down the hall towards the bridge of the Highwind. His eyes slowly adjusted to the light as he tromped forward, muttering to himself in a cranky, half-coherent voice.
"....and that one damn thing is that people respect my authority.'Let your poor crew take a night off,' she says. 'Get some rest; you look like you need some,' she says!" Cid halted and punched in the code to the bridge of his ship, stepping back as the steel doors opened with a loud "SWISH."
"Well, lah-dee-fucking-lah, Tifa," Cid growled as he stepped up to the controls and stared at them. None of the lights that should have been blinking were even turned on, and any sounds that would have been normally coming from the loud engines of the aircraft were silenced by the complete absence of any other crewmembers or AVALANCHE members alike.
"You've taught me never to trust another person with my job in my whole goddamn life...." Cid continued. He closed his eyes, his brow furrowed as he put his left hand to his forehead and dragged it down his face as he thought of the work it would take to get the ship back online. He could practically smell the sweat he would have to shed when he would climb down to the lower decks, and then the hours it would take to rewire the circuit board....
"Good thing we weren't in the air, or we'd all be dead shits." Cid opened his eyes, which had been significantly dullened by his ominous thinking, and shivered as he remembered what had caused the rude interruption in his sleep in the first place.
"The damn heater's busted too.... Damnit, why'd we have to be at one of the northern shores when Tifa screwed up, anyway!??" Cid closed his eyes in frustration as he rubbed his arms for warmth and began to walk towards the exit from the bridge. However, as he took one of the steps, he heard the sound of a crumpled paper crunching under one of his feet. He opened his right eye, blinking several times before he bent down, wincing at the stiffness in his spine as he did so, and picked up a piece of note paper. He uncrumpled it in his left hand as he stood back up and rubbed his aching back with his right.
"Dear Cid," he read out loud in his gruff, low voice. "We followed the Shin- Ra helicopter over here from out of their detection. However, when we landed, we had no other choice but to land as well, and to shut down all of the main systems so that it would be difficult for them to detect us. It's about twelve; me, Barret, and Red went out to see if we could find out what those Turks are up to. We'll be back in an hour or so.... Seeing as you're the lightest sleeper, and the change in temperature will probably wake you up, make sure not to wake anyone else up with your yelling, all right? Thanks for understanding,: Tifa."
Cid could only stare at the paper, dumbfounded that the girl had thought everything out so thoroughly. He brought a hand to his hair, scratching through the blonde strands with a hand as he continued to hold the paper in the other. Finally, after a minute of silence, he looked down at the watch on his wrist that Shera had given him for his thirty-third birthday.
"Fuck," he muttered. "It's four in the morning." He finally dropped the paper, looking up at nothing in particular as he wondered about what was holding up homie-boy, dog-breath, and judo-fighting-karate-girl past their specified time of return.
Cid looked down at the ground and sighed. He began walking towards his quarters, muttering to himself:
"Better go look for the dumbshits.... Damnit, you really do have to do stuff yerself if you want it done right....."
A golden eye shifted from side to side across the sparsely-vegetated ground, made visible only by the light that sifted through the grey dawn. Red sat on his scarlet haunches, shaking his wolfish head.
"I think I lost their trail..."
The two humans with him were alert as him in the dead of morning. After all, this was Shin-Ra that lay ahead of them. The danger that was thought to have been vanquished. After Diamond Weapon, Rufus was dusted. And after wasting the executives, there was no way that there could be a threat from that power-mad company ever again. How wrong they thought, since the Turks were there. And if Tseng had somehow come alive again, there was no guarantee that the rest were lifeless corpses. Midgar's border was in sight, when Red stopped. He scented the air with his black nose, tail straightening in anticipation.
"They've left Midgar."
"'Jes dandy, Red. We ain't 'gonna find 'em 'gain if we's goin' in circles!!" growled Barret, the irritation in his voice evident as he slammed his gun-arm on a nearby rock. Red eyed him warily: even Bugehagen used to be cranky at the crack of dawn. A human thing, maybe. Tifa took some initiative and started away from Midgar, her brown tresses blowing slightly in a weak wind.
"If he's right, we can catch up to them if we hurry."
"Shit, my legs..." Barret groaned. He was a tough man, but when it came to running, he wasn't very keen on that idea. Tifa shot him a knowing look and emphasized,
"IF we hurry."
The three AVALANCHE members soon found themselves traversing the barren, machine-ridden territory surrounding Midgar, crossing the elevated rock formations with increasing difficulty as they dipped and rose. Barret's cursing became more frequent as the uneven ground seemed to be endlessly on the incline: Shin-Ra's sixty-odd stories still managed to haunt him. The day was well into morning when they reached the end of the Turk's trail. It halted without any sign of diverging at a pale glow of light, rivalling the sun's rays as it faded and re-emerged continuously, flashing in the eyes of the AVALANCHE members.
"That's it. The ninja girl and I saw them walk right into it."
Both Tifa and Barret gave Red an incredulous look.
"You're sure?"
"Th' hell?!"
The wolf/lion-like creature nodded, focusing on the constantly paling and brightening light. Tifa blinked several times to ascertain she wasn't dreaming, and walked closer to it. Her tread became slower, the light becoming brighter the shorter the distance. Barret and Red followed, shielding their eyes as they closed the gap between themselves and the unknown. Red gave a nod of affirmation, his cerulean feathers bobbing as his head moved. Everyone in agreement, Tifa clapped both her fists over her eyes, the light becoming unbearably bright, and took a step into the light.
But before she could go anywhere, she heard a yell of anger behind her.
"WHERE D'YA THINK YER GOIN', YA COCKY, SHIP-WRECKIN' BITCH?!??!"
Before she could even react to the yell, she felt a heavy hand on her shoulder which roughly yanked her out of the portal and shoved her to the ground. Before she knew it, she was lying on her back, staring up at a familiar figure, who was, at the moment, silhouetted against the conflicting light and shadow of the dawn.
Cid pointed a gloved finger accussingly at Tifa, his blue eyes narrowed and his lips in the shape of a scowl around the smoking cigarette that he held clenched between his teeth.
"You'd better have a good explanation for yourself, kid!"
Tifa blinked in surprise. Cid was no gentleman, but he usually didn't go so far as to mishandle a woman. Then again, she didn't know the man's private life. Who was she to judge? Grunting, she propped herself up on one elbow, and from there getting to her feet. She brushed the dust off her shirt with her worn gloves, straightening as she looked at Cid.
"We were following the Turks," she said flatly. "They went into that," she continued, pointing at the white light with a good deal of irritation. "Barret and Red XIII went after them," she stated, jabbing a thumb at the said light.
Cid continued to scowl as he looked incredulously at a the patch of trees in the otherwise barren landscape of the outskirts of Midgar. He grinned and laughed a bit harshly as he looked back at Tifa and crossed his arms.
"Went into what? I don't see anythin'."
Tifa was about to protest, and turned around, only to find the portal gone. Her face contorted in vexation.
"But..it WAS there," she insisted, her dark brown hair drifting across her shoulder as she turned to gaze at.....nothing. "Barret and Red are gone. It HAS to be there."
Cid blinked at her a moment, still disbelieving, but the fake smile dissappearing from his face. "You sure you okay, La-tifa? Y'know, they made all of us in the Shin-Ra airforce take a cat scan...." Tifa nodded with firm conviction. "I KNOW what I saw, Cid. It was right....." She took a step foward, reaching her gloved hand to the place that had been bathed in white light, now empty space. "Here."
"There?" Cid looked a bit more serious as he followed Tifa and squinted his eyes towards the location of the so-called portal. After a few moments of bending down and inspecting the area, he stood up and looked at Tifa. "So, you're saying that Barret and Red and the Turks are off in some alternate dimension or somethin'?"
"Yes. I was going to follow them....." she trailed off. No words were needed for that. Her sore back attested to it. She rubbed it gently, brushing aside the ache. The AVALANCHE member turned to the older man, switching the topic. "I'm sorry about your ship, Cid. We didn't have any choice."
"CHOICE?!?!?" Cid immediately forgot about the situation at hand as he was reminded about the state of his beloved airship. "You know how long it's gonna take me to fix my baby, huh!??! Ya didn't just turn off the system; ya screwed over the entire MAINFRAME!!!! The whole damn thing's disabled!!!" He paused briefly to snuff out the stump of his cigarette between his gloved fingers, throw it to the ground, and grab a new one. "Hell, Tifa...." He pulled out a lighter with the Shin-Ra Air Corps insignia on it and set fire to his cig. "I feel like ya injured my fucking child or somethin'."
Tifa REALLY felt like being derisive to the pilot. The last thing she wanted to have happen was to become a second Shera. But she figured that it was best to let the guy rant. He would lose his voice sooner or later with that cigarette stuck in his mouth 24/7. Her eyes strayed to the flattened cigarette. AVALANCHE had initially formed to save the planet from Shin-Ra. Semi-wistfully, she wondered if she would have to save the planet from Cid's cigarettes.
Cid noticed the look that Tifa was giving to the remains of his tobacco and glared at her straight in the face. "Watcha lookin' at?" He answered his own question as he brought the second cigarette to his mouth and put his lighter back in one of his jacket pockets. "Hey, we're all gonna die anyway. Might as well make it a slow, painful, cancerous death, eh?"
"YOU do just that, but don't drag me into it with your second-hand smoke," she said in a mix of jest and gravity, emphasizing the point with a cough. Then she added, her voice completely void of mirth, "I just hope it's not too soon..." Cid chuckled under his breath, a strange smile coming over his face. He closed his eyes as he took a smoke of his cigarette and pointedly turned around in the direction opposite Tifa as he blew the foul smoke out of his mouth. The strange smile remained on his face as he turned back towards Tifa, the cigarette between the fingers of his right hand as he opened his eyes, leaned forward, and patted Tifa on the shoulder.
"Don't worry," he said, a small bit of bitter laughter underneath his voice. "I'll probably outlive you yet, kid."
He then moved away, turning towards the area where the portal had supposedly appeared. He took another puff of his tobacco roll and furrowed his brow. "So, what do we do 'bout the shit that Barret and Red got themselves into?" Tifa shot Cid her iciest glare. "If you didn't pull me out, I'd KNOW what to do." It quickly dispersed, never being the one to easily be engaged in a verbal battle. She leaned over, trying to catch a glimpse of the white light, but finding nothing but the invisible wind that coursed through the few clusters of leaves.
Cid crossed his arms once more, tapping one of his boots on the ground as he thought about the predicament. After a minute or so of silence, only broken by the sound of him blowing smoke out of his mouth, he said: "Well, what'd they do to open the damn thing in the first place?"
"Nothing. It was...just there," she answered plainly, pointing at the empty space, now occupied by Cid's smoke-clogged breath. She waved her hand in front of her face, the opressive stench inflaming her nostrils. A cough coincided with her next words. "No one set it off or anything.."
Cid glared at the young woman in frustration and then walked towards the trees themselves, inspecting them. "Seems kinda weird that there'd be a patch of vegetation in the middle of all this crap, huh?"
Tifa stood stationary, nodding her head while gazing at the sky. "Yeah..." The AVALANCHE member didn't need to say what had left an indelible scar on the planet. Meteor was still a vivid picture in her, no, everyone's minds. "Maybe it's because of Holy," she speculated, still gazing at the sky. There was no foreboding fireball there now, but nonetheless, the black sky was dead. The weapon had been destroyed, but left its irreversible impact on the face of the already-dying planet. Cid arched an eyebrow and knocked one of his gloved knuckles against a tree. He paused a moment, then rapped it again, harder. He turned back towards Tifa.
"Seems kinda weird that Holy would want to make hollow trees, then..." She blinked. "Hollow?" she asked, coming back down to the ground and followed Cid, inspecting the tree. She jabbed a fist at it to confirm, and stared in awe. "You're right..." She stepped away from the tree, assuming a thinking position. "What should we do?" Cid shrugged, picking up his Venus Gospel and twirling the large spear around in his hands and over his head with surprising ease. "We break the damn thing open, I s'pose." Tifa nodded, approaching the hollow tree. Leaning into a fighter's stance, shifting her weight to her back leg, she drove her fist, that was armored with a gleaming greyish metal, into the tree trunk. After her attack, Cid also charged, thrusting his spear into the trunk of the tree and then slashing it to the side. Under the stress of being attacked, the so-called tree seemed to break in half, revealing bunches of wires and various lights that blinked on and off from inside the contraption.
"Well, that explains it," Cid grumbled as he narrowed his eyes and lowered his weapon. "Another damn Shin-Ra trick... They must've been trying to disguise the portal-projection thing. And....." His eyes widened momentarily and he slapped his right hand to his forehead as he realized what he and Tifa had done. "FUCK! We broke it!!!"
Tifa's chocolate eyes bulged in realization, and she looked down at first, but her eyes brightened as she gave a knowing glance at Cid.
"You could fix it, couldn't you?" "Well... uh.... yeah... I suppose could......" Cid scratched his head, a dubious look on his face. "But HELL!!! I don't know how it works! For all I know, I could screw the damn thing up, and then we'd be in deep shit, not to mention Barret and Red!" "Then...what do we do?" she asked, vexation darkening the mood on her face. She stared at the now-exposed contraption, afraid to touch it again lest she shatter it. Cid shrugged and put down his spear as he knelt down to the broken machine and began to move the bunches of wires with his gloves. "I try to fix the damn thing. What else?" Tifa nodded, and plopped down on the ground, sitting up on her elbows. She idilly watched Cid work, running her eyes over the plethora of wires that protruded from the contraption like a mass of tentacles.
This could take a while...
*~*~*
Flocks of chirping Pidgey flew over the beaches, but none seemed to fly over the forest that Butch and Cassidy were currently in. It was as if there was an intangible aura that kept the normal wildlife away from this place. Indeed, it looked normal enough: with the usual foliage native to islands in the Orange Archipelago, which rendered the forest canopy pleasing to the eye. Yes, the forest itself boasted no threat, but the building that the two Rockets stood before was a different story.
From roof to foundation it radiated a bleak feeling of despair. Not that it LOOKED like a decrepit haunted mansion, or an imposing tower where grim destruction breeded, but Butch had a crawling feeling that he or Cassidy would like what they found in there.
He turned to his blonde partner. If she was creeped out, it didn't seem like it. Cool and controlled as always. But that was superficial. Underneath she was just as apprehensive as he was.
Butch approached the door. It looked harmless enough. With a shaky hand he was trying to steady, he turned the knob.
There was a sudden creaking as the door slowly swung inwards, and while Butch gave a startled yelp and jumped backwards, Cassidy also reeled, her eyes widening as the entrance revealed the dark, foreboding interior of the lab.
After a minute or so of silence, she finally caught herself. She gave a grunt and grabbed a half-terrified Butch by the wrist and began to drag him forward.
"It's a stupid door, you lunkhead," she muttered to her partner as she trudged into the ominous bu ilding. She paused and glanced around at the empty counters and the polished floors. As she spoke, she could hear her own dull echo bouncing off of the white walls. "And from the looks of it, no one has been here in a while." Butch nodded as he took a quick glance around the empty room. It was...too empty. He shuddered slightly. Usually someplace this deserted invited a lurking danger, and he couldn't help but think that the place was too quiet to be unoccupied. He turned to his partner, about to give his two cents, but then changed his mind. It was probably his imagination.
"What ahe we looking foh, Cass?" he inquired suddenly, that brief moment of anxiety causing him to forget their priorities. "Oh, yeah....." the Rocket said, looking more than a little abashed. He hadn't gotten used to Cassidy's spurts of irritation yet. Both were usually on the same level of intellect for the most part. But for some reason, Butch hadn't been feeling on par lately, and just being inside this empty lab was making it worse. Of course, he didn't tell his partner that.
"C'mon," she growled, her eyes narrowing as she walked forward, farther into what could be the pits of hell. "We're goin' in."
*~*~*
There was no pain, no ache, no feeling at all. Just a strange numbness, as if all of his senses had been parlyzed and been ordered to ignore his every whim. The only real thing he had any awareness of were voices... voices, everywhere, speaking in hushed, almost incoherent tones, and then escalating into screams, then slowly being quieted into whispers again. A few words made their way into his mind, a select few which, instead of bringing answers, only brought more questions--more
torment--to his lost and confused mind.
........dreams, you know? Dreams are like this....
......you think this is a dream, Flint?....
....I dunno, I think she might be one, though.....
.....GET AWAY......
........not going to hurt you.....
......who are you?.....
.....I.... I don't know.....
....After them! And the boy, find that----thing, we NEED him, or this research will be wasted, you hear me??! It'll be DONE for!!!!
....damnit, they found the subject first....
....wait.... the hospital?
..YES... do you know..... do you KNOW what this blood sample MEANS?!?!....
......Dude, we're going after her....and my son....
....You're crazy! You'll be killed!!!... and....
....Yes, Flint... killed.... you'll be deader than dead, more murdered than can be killed.... kill... kill....
....is it WORTH it to get back that th.----
.....it's my son.... not a thing..... bring the camera.....
....here it is.....
....INTRUDER ALERT.... INTRUDER ALERT......
.....FLINT!!!!.......
.....I'm not leaving you, Maya, I swear I won't----AAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!........
.......sir, the specimen... it's lacking.....
.......whispers.....whispers......whispers......
.....I see........then, Demoni must have the same problem..... and we each have a very useful donator......
.....for my son? I'll do it........
......good.......
......this is the only way to succeed......
.......will I be me?.....
......the bigger question is.... will he be you...?
......Flint....
......Light.........
............................................................................ .
......................Who............am....................I.........?
............................................................................ ....
........Your name is Gem---
.........his......... name....... is....... Brock........
.......Brock.....?
.........Your name is Brock..........
..........................
Brock sat bolt upright with a choked gasp, his senses suddenly alive again as he stared straight in front of himself, his eyes wide in confusion and terror and his entire body lathered in sweat. NOW he felt pain; he could feel a dull, almost drugged ache at the back of his head, and he could almost feel the pain of a spike or two on his shoulders that had been chipped when he had fallen.
Fallen? Oh, right. He slowly tried to stand up, but found that his legs were too weak, and he collapsed to the ground once more. He'd been shot by-- -something---or----other---when he had been attacking Giovanni for------ GIOVANNI!!!!!!!!!!!! Brock suddenly found himself snarling and growling, the primal sounds echoing in his gut as he threw himself at the walls of--- well, wherever he was. The vision in his red eyes was still blurred, and all he knew at this moment was revenge. WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU, YOU BASTARD!?!??!??!?!?
The same hell as you are in. The mental voice answered, void of the imperious tone that usually characterized him. He seemed despondent, aware that the slighest movement would move the hooks, and increase the steady pump of fluids into his brain. He wasn't even growling anymore, repulsed by the liquid that flowed into his jaws. Resisting the urge to simply cease thinking of and fearing consequences and become again the beast he was taking its toll on him, and his crimson eyes dulled from rage to sulleness.
Although Brock could "hear" the sad, strangely human voice, sensing its reverberation in his head, he continued to scratch at the walls, his sight still bleary.
Where am I, then?!? Who are you working with?!?!? Don't try to bullshit me, you----WHAT?!?!?
His eyesight had suddenly cleared, and he was dumbfounded at what he saw. Two points of blinding red light engulfed his vision, and he found himself skittering away on his clawed hands and feet, the image in front of him slowly becoming more distinct until its details became painfully obvious. The sight, though somewhat familiar to Brock by this point, still caused his throat to tighten and his jaw to clench.
It's........ me............. He said to himself as he stared at his visage in the mirror in front of him. He looked.... cleaner, to say the least. It seemed as if someone had tidied him up; his scales shined slightly, his claws looked polished, and all of his wounds had been healed---somehow. But, wait....... There was an empty space on the top of his head where his hair should have been, and his remaining piece of tattered clothing--his pants--had since been removed.
Brock's eyes narrowed at his reflection and he growled as he looked around; it seemed as if the walls, ceiling, and floor were all made of mirrors. Great. Not only do they humiliate me and make me a monster, but they leave me naked and shave my hair off. Oh, this is just terriffic....
The reptile cocked his head at a slow pace, somehow avoiding the increased flow of chemicals at this slight movement. This angle enabled him to see the monster across from him. He couldn't believe it at first, and wondered if the fluid was diminishing his sight. But his eyes fully focused on the tortured shape of the other monster, he saw that his vision wasn't failing. There was Brock, without hair or pants, which erased any assumption that the creature had been a boy at any time in his life. Hair that didn't grow everywhere and clothes were unique to humans, and without these features, the other looked completely monstrous, with no hint of anything humanoid about him. To resemble a human, no matter how hideous the creature looked, retained a fraction of humanity. A tiny sliver, but it was still there. But with all features of humanity stripped away, Brock was simply yet another beast.
He sees it fit to torture in effective ways. Came the mental voice from the motionless reptile. If you're not enlightened on the rest of your situation.....things cannot get much worse. A low growl emitted from his closed mouth. You are----- He made the mistake of jerking his head, and his thought pattern became disconnected and incoherent. --in---somewhere...He said about---two Gemini, and--caught one--are you caught---?
Huh? Brock dejectedly looked upwards, at the seemingly ordinary mirrors. He grit his fangs. They were probably one-way mirrors, and strong ones at that. He went back to conversing with his arch-enemy. You aren't making any sense. Go over that again....
I said.....He growled menacingly, frustrated that he couldn't find the...words to convey this. Two Geminis---one caught. He began to panic, and he shot his head sideways to gaze at the other's cell, in a pathetic attempt to focus, tightening the wires in the process. Brock blinked at nothing in particular, as Giovanni could see him but he couldn't see Giovanni. He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, staring at his hideous reflection with a cold, emotionless face. Give it up. I don't get you.
It was at that moment that the sound of a door swinging open was heard.
Giovanni upturned his massive head, the repulsive hooks pulling on his brain, shutting off his thoughts as he stared at the other monster in frustration, who was resigned to a worse fate. Then he looked at the opening door. What else could happen?
A bent shadow cast itself over the sterile floor, and its owner shuffled through the doorway, hands clasped behind his back in his usual hunched position. His pallid visage lightened as he craned his neck upwards, pushing up his glasses to see his two specimens.
"You must be enjoying the accomodations."
A thin grin spread over his face at the "newcomer." "And you, Gemini," he added with a heigtening menace that did not show in his quiet voice, "I'm pleased to see you're making optimum use of my mirrors."
He concluded with a satisfied smirk fit for such a sadistic and twisted mind, "I made them just for you."
Brock could hear a voice, albeit muffled, through the walls, which soon became clearer when some kind of speaker was activated--one that seemed to be in his own head.
Wh-what?!? He snarled at this new threat, pausing a moment when he heard his own thoughts projected on a speaker from outside of the walls, and then growling again, lunging at one of the mirrored walls, which he hoped to be nearest this.... person. Who the hell are you?!
"I believe that a more appropriate question would be 'who are you?'" he sneered, peering into the mirror-filled cube. He was aware that he other couldn't see him, and this disadvantage would only worsen the reaction of the subject. The more worse, the better, all the more satisfying to his carnivirous intellect.
Who... am I...?! Brock found himself hesitating for a moment, remembering the disturbing series of voices that he had been hearing just a few minutes before. However, he soon got ahold of himself, and began scratching at the walls, as if looking for some way to escape. I know who I am!!!! Brock Bravestone----uhm----seventeen years old----and--uhm---damnit, I DO know who I am, so don't try to pull any crap!!!! IVY did this to me, and--and--- so did.....HIM!!!! Brock pointed wildly around the cell, trying to find the location that Giovanni's thought speech had been coming from. And right now, I want to know what's going on!!!!
"Oh, you mean Belina?" Hojo arched a curious eyebrow. "I applaud your partial correctness. She did complete the final procedures, but you're not aware of who began the experiment, are you?"
He made his way around the cube in a slow circle, not waiting for an answer before speaking again,
"Of course you're not. You were but a hatchling when I took you and your mother."
He slid his glasses off, fogging the round lenses with putrid breath, and wiping them clean on his shirt. Giovanni widened his eyes: he could have sworn he saw a tint of an alien sort of virdian in those cold, dark orbs of menace.
"Perhaps I am mistaken..one does forget these exact dates and times," he said to no one in particular. "I do know that your animal brain isn't developed enough to remember that far back. It was some time ago, I believe."
I..... WHAT!??!? Brock snarled at his own reflection. Don't try to trick me, whoever you are.... I'm---I---- He choked slightly. ---I WAS the oldest of of... a bunch of kids.... and I know who my parents were---Flint and Piedra. I DON'T have a... an... "animal brain," so I.... I..... I know you're lying!
"It seems that this subject will need convincing as well," the scientist muttered under his breath. "Me? Lying? Look at yourself, Gemini. You should know that your brain is underdeveloped just by looking at your refection. Is that the body of something posessing a human brain? Hm? You tell me, Gemini. You pretend to know who you are."
I.... I..... Brock suddenly felt lightheaded, woozy, and he found himself rubbing his temple with a claw as he fell forward onto the mirror in front of him. He suddenly remembered that he hadn't eaten a thing for the last two days, and he took a huge breath of air before he looked into the mirror. He looked at the face which wasn't really his own and responded dully: As long.... as--as long as I can reason.... like between right and wrong... I'm still human, even if I look..... look like... this.... I don't CARE what you say..... You sound just like... like Gio... Gio... What's that bastard's name, again...? Gio... whatever; you sound just like him from before he got sunk, but I still won't believe anyone who says it... because... because it isn't true.
"You're still human," he repeated slowly, shaking with supressed laughter. "You can't even remember your nemesis's NAME, let alone differentiate between right and wrong." He paused, to let the words sink, or more of, drill into the monster's receptive brain. "Right...was it RIGHT to come here, in search of revenge? That is because of your instincts. But with these instincts, you can't reason. You only are led by them, and you must follow them, because they are you."
His name... doesn't... matter...... He.... killed.... them.... A tear came to one of Brock's tired eyes, even as he laid limp on the ground. For some reason.... the moisture he was shedding seemed to exhaust him completely. He should.... die.... too.... His eyes slowly glazed over, and his forked tongue lolled out of his mouth. I'm so..... so...... He licked his dry lips with his parched tongue and outstretched a hand towards the wall, where he vaguely guessed someone could see it from the outside. So... thirsty....
"Not anymore, it doesn't....." Hojo cut himself off, developing a sudden interest with the misshapen hand. He strode towards it, bending gradually lower until his sight levelled with the clawed monstrosity. "Ah...those other instincts are finally making themselves known. Bloodlust, yes.....displaying a vampiric nature. Not cannibalistic. That implies that you'd take the blood of a fellow HUMAN...Vampiric, beause of separate species, one human and one percievably far from it. Of course..." he summed up. "You are the parasite in this symbiosis. Yes, very much like that creature of nonsensical rubbish...." He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "What is it? Ah, yes...a vampire."
V-vampire....? Brock looked up blearily, his eyes narrowed until they snapped open, strangely blank in their stare. BLOOD.... Brock's nose began to move as he sniffed out... something or other, his head turning wildly as he staggered to his feet and stumbled around the interior of the cube. Whether his sudden delirium was induced by the implant in his skull , the chemicals in his bloodstream, or even his own mind was unknown, but one thing was for certain: The human part of him, for the time being, was no longer in control.
Only one phrase could be heard through the speakers that projected his frenzied thoughts, one phrase which rang eerily in the large laboratory.
Where is it....? Where is it....? WHERE IS IT....?
Zero-X, silent until now, growled as he shifted his head again, loosening the tight grip of the hooks. It was then he realized, the frenzied desire in the other monster's eyes, that he wanted blood. He snarled, almost pleadingly.
Control yourself.....that is how he wants you to act....as an animal.....
"Exactly as I thought. It's instincts are showing plainly, now. If I don't satisfy them, it may lose total control over those lingering human tendencies. What tragedy....." he laughed to himself, gleaming eyes narrowing in delight.
"Yes...a tragedy....." the scientist muttered, the alien color of his eyes piercing the specimen's cube, in the way so many Rune blades would gore a dragon's heart. He began to walk the length of the cube, turning sharply, and walking in the opposite direction, his fingers holding his chin in deep contemplation, and a resentful grimace signalled that he had changed his mind. "But...it occurs to me that you are thirsty...it wouldn't do for you to die of starvation. No, not at all."
S-starve.... Blood... Need.... blood...? Brock suddenly got ahold of himself and fell to his knees, whimpering as he held his claws to his face. Wh-what the hell's wrong with me??!
"Nothing is wrong with you, Gemini," he answered in sadistic glee, every feature of his face depicting malicious evil. "No....."wrong" would be if you were craving for human food." He paused to quirk an eyebrow. "Curious...you still imply with your speech that you''re human. Even the most simplistic being would know that the only humans that are cannibals crave human tissue." He flashed a twisted smile. "But I did mention that before, didn't I? " He waved his hand dismissvely. "Not that it matters. In any scenario, you will have your.....blood. "
No... I'd rather take McDonald's, damnit....... He snarled at his own reflection with self-loathing. I'D RATHER EAT MCDONALD'S, YOU HEAR ME?!? He gave out a roar and tackled the image of himself, crashing into the wall and falling to the ground inside the shell once more. He rolled over and shrank back against the opposite side of the cube, sitting there for a moment, breathing harshly and feeling a rivulet of blood stream down from his forehead to his cheek.
"How amusing...despite your mental degradation, you can still name the site where bio-hazardous materials are heavily concentrated." He stroked his chin thoughtfully before assuming a more terse demeanor. "That won't satisfy your hunger, I'm afraid. Your body craves for blood, and blood alone. It was inevitable, because you were born with that instinct."
No I DON'T, you freak!!!!! Brock grit his fangs. Just throw a Big Mac in here or something---I'll eat it,---you'll see!!! He rubbed the black liquid off the side of his face with the back of his hand. Hah! Mental degradation! You're the one who's.... who's.... He blinked his pupiless eyes as they slowly wandered down towards the hand. He stared at the blood on it with a strange fascination. It's..... it's cold......
"Indeed," he snickered in delight, completely ignoring the other's name- calling. It was inconsequential, after all. "The same property as your 'friend's', I might add," he stated, a delighted smile creasing his face as Zero-X squirmed. He shuffled towards the computer panel, chin between his thumb and forefinger as he looked downwards, concentrated on something or other. He didn't turn around as he said, "As for that excuse for a victual..." He typed a command on the panel, a minute elapsing before the food appeared in a container at the rear of the lab. He turned a knob and fiddled with a dial, the Big Mac teleported, and vanished from the container, reappearing inside the cube.
"Impressive, these Silph teleporters. Eliminates the need for elevators."
Suddenly, as if on a whim, he typed in several more commands, the mirrors generating a mechanical whir as they retracted. Ah, but this was Hojo. Spontanaiety was the farthest from his mind as he watched his specimen's reaction to the meal.
Brock's misshapen hand lashed out at the vile combination of bread, beef, lettuce, tomato, mayonnaise, and cheese. He brought it to his mouth in a quavering arc, and chomped down on the burger. His hands flew to his throat. A distorted gag followed by a horrified snarl ignited a satiated smirk from he, who was such a small and unimposing entity, the falsity of which was painfully obvious. The half- chewed glop spewed from Brock's mouth, landing on the base of the cube. He fell to his knees, an enraged voice ripping through the speakers.
"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS CRAP?!?!"
Hojo let out a chuckle so sinister it would shame Sisyphus.
"The palplable proof of your inhumanity...no..your idiocy in REFUSING to accept your current...condition," he answered unconcernedly. He depressed a second button, and the burger separated itself into millions of particles before vanishing from the cube. Raising a hand to adjust his glasses, he strode away from the panel again, the lab lights playing on his lenses, making them appear a stark white. "Other than that, it serves as a sufficient poison for humans."
Low-down bastard!!! There's NO WAY that meat wasn't months old!
God, he felt SICK. Brock doubled over, gripping his stomach so hard black rivulets seeped thorugh his scaled hide and rolled down in jagged streams. Now crawling, CRAWLING over the surface of that goddamned cube, he fought the overwhelming urge to vomit all of his organs that were completely, totally rejecting this substance. He pressed his pained face against the glass, glaring at the slowly retreating form of the scientist. More of disgust than anything. He would've thought someone so expert at torturing the shit out of innocents would be adept at persuasion----so what if he didn't have his clothes OR his hair? It didn't make him any less human. And he WAS human, damnit!
Nice try, whoever the hell you are, but I saw through your plan.....feeding me rotten food so I'd THINK I was some sort of monster!
The bald, naked, blood-covered, imprisoned creature began to laugh: bitterly, coldly, but with a tinge of cocky mirth.
A nervous growl from Zero-X signalled that something was awry. Hojo was once again punching buttons on the panel, a crane-like instrument responding to his command. From what the numbed receptors in his brain could discern was that the crane was connected to the ceiling directly above the cube.
I'm STILL human! Give me some REAL food and I'll prove it!
Brock rubbed off the involuntary drool that was dripping from his fanged mouth with the scaly back of his hand. Hit by the reminder that physically, he was a freak, he tore his hand away and growled outraged.
I WANT a damn BIGMAC!!!
His blazing eyes burned with intense fervor.
I'll show you I'm human!!
He banged on the wall of the cube with his clawed fists with violent excitement, trying to get that labcoated asshead to TURN around. In the back of his humanoid mind, that was the sole thing bothering him....normally he would've said something by now. But he was at the panel, pushing away, lost in a world of technical processes that would inevitably have some sort of end result..
Jesus, why'd he have to be right?
Hojo revealed his twisted mug as he turned around, hands returning to their clasped position behind his back, shuffling across the sterile floor towards the cube. Halfway he glimpsed his writhing figure, dragging itself to the..BODY that Hojo had dumped into the cube.
Not any body...not another cadaver whose only identification was a tag; remove the tag and you have nothing.
Hojo turned back to the panel..that DAMNED panel. While the realization sank painfully in Brock's brain, and every organ sank with it, the madman depressed a different set of buttons, distracted, detatched from his specimen's plight in thought or action. Ignoring the feral sobs of a mere BOY like he was a dead leaf fallen onto the sidewalk.
Brock didn't want to hold her. She would be poisoned by his demonic touch, because of who..what...he was... He would profane a sacred temple with hands of Hell.... His eyes burned with tears. This wasn't...supposed to be happening.....that wasn't...that couldn't be..she couldn't be.....dead? With a pained roar he leapt to the cube, that single wall that was the only thing keeping him from tearing the throat out of his tormentor.
You KILLED her!!!!!!
He threw himself against the wall, slamming head-on until his skull rattled and blood flowed into eyes, but rage blided him more than the black blood. He was on the verge of passing out when Zero-X gave a warning roar, but the words, even amplified by the speaker, were lost to him, as Hojo tapped a final button, the mechanized din of a moving contraption drowning it. It subsided, and Hojo snatched the opportunty of the silence and answered Brock. Apparently, he had been listening all along.
"No, Gemini...don't presume to make quick assumptions..it will get you nowhere. You see---" The device, that projected from the base of the cube, steadily rose, closing off sight of one whole side. Brock flew to it, clutching his hands in anger: this wall was a thick metal. He felt himself drop, catching the glass with his throbbing head. Through tormented eyes he read the sadistic lips as the metal swallowed the walls of the cube, plunging him into the unsympathetic void of silence.
"---one cannot stand between a potential vulpine specimen and a loaded firearm and expect to reach their full life expectancy."
Hojo smiled amusedly at Zero-X's expected stupidity.
"Gemini can no longer hear me...or anything else, for that matter," Hojo mused to himself. "It's only a matter of time before he won't be able to resist. The instincts are far too potent..." He shuffled towards the lab light, chuckling to himself. "And when he discovers he has prolonged his own life by draining this girl...Suzy of Scissor Street, wasn't it?" He shut them off, submerging the silent lab in all darkness except the eerie glow of the liquid in the tube. "Ah.....but how little the name means..." He regained his track of mind with little effort. "Ah...where was I? There won't be any reason for him to offer resistance." As he slowly pushed open the door, he smiled at the muffled roars of anguish radiating from the metallic- covered cube, the hopeless struggle of mind over body.....he loved every moment of it. The mere thought of it sent chills of delight up his curved spine.
Curved...he noticed recently that he'd been stooping lower and lower. People of average height seemed to tower over him. Ah....it must be his age. Still..he couldn't help pondering what had happened between that day and returning to work....But it was easily dismissed. There were other matters elsewhere that needed to be attended to. It annoyed him that this business would take him away from his specimens, but he supposed he would have to take it like any other interruption in his work.
Besides, it wasn't entirely an interruption. Ivy hadn't reported in to him since the second phase had started. Perhaps it was time to see what she was up to.
*~*~*
A/N: There you go. Chapter 14 coming soon. Hope you enjoyed it! If you didn't..well...oops. ^^; I hope this is worthy of Erin's greatness. ^^
by DarkMutatedBrock and Blue9Tiger
*~*~* Legal Stuff: BigMac is copyright to McDonald's.
B9T: Important announcement: due to circumstances beyond our control, DMB is no longer able to continue the fic. I'm indefinitely replacing her, so it's going to suck really soon, but I'll try and make it half as good, at least. Anyway, this is the last chapter that she has contributed her genius to the fic. So, starting in the middle of the last segment, if it begins to get horrible, no questions need to be asked why.
*~*~*
She had to force her way out. That was all that she knew. They wanted her to stay there. They had taken every precaution to make sure she stayed there. Where was there? Where was here, for that matter?
A ragged piece of fabric tore on a protruding branch. She was barely covered by shreds of material that appeared to be the remains of a shirt, letting the chill of the northern forest penetrate her bruised flesh. Only the imminent danger behind her drove her to trudge through the wood, on her hands and knees, shuddering from the bitter cold, faltering at projecting tree stumps, blindly pushing through the obstructing forest.
White, soft, cold.....
Snow greeted her at the timberline. An endless expanse of snow, white all around. A cut decided to open, trickling blood on the snow, staining it a dark red. Her knees staggered, and was reduced to crawling. A desperate swim through the vast whiteness, the rising cold numbing her fingers that clutched each untrod patch of snow as if it was life itself. Every inch was reached with more and more difficulty. The woman's strength was completely spent. With one final futile effort to crawl another inch, the side of her face plunged into the snow.
A far-off light glittered in her blurring vision, amongst what seemed like-- --houses? Before she could see anything more, her strength gave out and she was swallowed in the jaws of unconsciousness.
*~*~*
FEBRUARY 20, ---- 3:37 PM (18 years before current date)
Camera turns around; pans out around a forest with minor jerks and jiggles; the footage is obviously being shot on home video by an amateur. A voice is heard, apparently from the person who is operating the camera.
Man 1: Here we are on the outskirts of Pewter, in Viridian Forest... in case the date is wrong, it's February..... Me and Flint here are looking for a setting for the short film we want to do....
Camera turns around and zooms in on the fuzzy form of a man estimated to be in his early twenties; the camera's focus adjust and we can see that the man is dressed in heavy winter clothing, including black ski pants, large brown boots, and an oversized blue jacket. His face and hair are visible; his skin is a light brown, and his hair is a dark brown and seems to stick out in every direction. His face appears to have high cheekbones and narrow eyes.
Man 1: See, there he is, looking like an idiot as he stands in the snow.... HEY, FLINT!!! Ya said you'd grow into that stuff when you bought it!!!
Flint: (Looks up, grins at the camera.) Hey, I'll bet I could criticize you if you were the one on camera, Dude! So shut up and start looking for a cave or something if you want to make the damn tape!
Man 1 (named "Dude"?): (Laughs.) Yeah, yeah, whatever.....
Camera starts moving up and down as Dude walks forward in the snow.
Dude: Aw, damn, don't want to waste the battery....
Camera is turned off.
--First segment of tape #12683, titled: "UNOFFICIAL RECORD OF POST- DITTWO/PRE-GEMINI PROJECTS" Subscript reads: FOUND ON INTRUDERS #1 AND #2 (FLINT BRAVESTONE & DUDELY [LAST NAME UNKNOWN]; NOT TAPED BY PLANETOUCH MEMBERS." Confiscated from illegal underground lab located in Viridian Forest eleven years before current date. Archived by the PRPL (Pokémon Rights Protection League). *~*~*
Chapter 13: Sympathy for the Devil
He stood at the window, his clear eyes gazing out at the calm skies and the white clouds which floated over the calm, green lands that stretched out for miles. Houses and small buildings interrupted the view here and there, but that was to be expected in such an area as this...
The figure sighed, raising a pale, slender hand to his forehead and pushing a few strands of white hair out of his calm, creaseless face. The clouds suddenly parted in the sky and sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the figure in a blurred, surreal halo.
The figure closed his eyes and then opened them again. They were brilliant white, as if the sunlight itself was being absorbed through them and displayed for all to see. However, the glow emanated was soft and kind, which matched the overall look of the figure; his body seemed thin, almost to the point of fragility, and a white robe hung from his shoulders to his feet, which were bare and seemed to hover just a milimeter over the ground-- -but that could have been a simple trick of the light, just like the way his garment seemed to flow about him like a solidified form of thin air, uninhibited by gravity or any other force of nature.
The figure paused, as if thinking deeply about something or other, and put his hands on the sill of the window leaning forward toward the sun and closing his eyes, as if bathing in its radiance. A smile touched the corners of his lips, a warm, peaceful smile filled with unimaginable charisma.
The scattered light caught a blur of movement along the dirt path, a steady, unswerving motion that left an even rut worn into the road from making this trip a number of times. It entered the tranquil man's sight, nearing the window as the form of a girl on a bicycle deviated from her current course and pointed it off the road, taking a shortcut through the grass. As she rode, her jet-black hair whipped across her bright-eyed visage. Her headband didn't seem to be accomplishing its purpose, but that didn't matter. Her destination was just up the hill.
The figure continued to stand there, his calm eyes still upon the sky as he detected the padding of sneakers upon the floor beneath him, and then the sound of those same sneakers coming up the stairs and into the hallway that led to the very room he was standing in. However, he didn't move a muscle, and he continued to stand with his hands on the sill and his head poised toward the sky. The only thing that moved was his robe, which flowed around him as the waves flowed around a vessel in the sea, and his stark white hair, which fell down to his shoulders and seemed to be lifted effortlessly by the wind which found its way through the window.
With a shrill screech of tires, the girl stopped her bicycle and jumped off, landing lightly on road. She kicked down the metal stand, letting the bicycle lurch to one side, and headed for the door, the pleasant heat of the sun warming her back. It was indeed a beautiful day, one of nature's masterpieces painted with tedious effort. She didn't let it go to waste, and took a whiff of the refreshing air before she rapped on the door.
"Grandpa?"
The figure heard the knock and the voice two floors below, but continued to stand in that sunlight, as if nothing else from heaven to the Earth to hell didn't matter. He turned his head slightly when the knocking continued, and smiled slightly, turning away once more.
"Come in, but he's not here...."
His voice was soft and warm and somehow quiet, even as its sound drifted into the room below and made itself heard to the visitor.
The girl hesitated, her fingers clasping onto the brass doorknob. She knew her grandfather was expecting no guests. It was true that he hadn't been very sociable since he started on some important project. In fact, he had become downright reclusive, speaking to no one save for his perenially eager assistant from the Orange Archipelago.
"That's funny.....wonder who that could be?" she mused as she cautiously turned the knob and swung the door open, letting it knock into the adjacent wall. She entered casually, walking around the furnished room, finding no sign of the stranger anywhere. She searched the first floor of the house, but found no one. Finally her hand came to rest on the banister, and she made her way to the second floor, climbing the staircase. A closed door immediately met her sight, and out of sheer curiosity, she walked towards it, with some caution. She tried the knob. It was unlocked. Caution dispersing, she pushed the door open, the slender figure of a man greeting her eyes. There was silence for nearly thirty seconds, as if the figure hadn't noticed her, until he cocked his head to the side as he still looked toward the sun.
"Lovely day, isn't it?" He said in that same quiet, peaceful voice that resounded as if upon pure gold.
"Yeah...it's beautiful," the girl agreed, brushing a strand of stray black over her ears. She stayed in the doorway. Though appreciative of beauty and those who thought the same, she couldn't help but feel a tad wary about the stranger. There was something...not right about him.
The stranger closed his eyes and turned towards the girl, smiling. "Indeed. With a day like this, it would be hard to predict that the world will soon end.... Would it not, girl?"
He opened his eyes, such warm beacons of light, and yet.... somehow..... completely... impure.... Unassuming as she was, the girl couldn't help but percieve that gaze of a tainted soul, with bane of all natures lurking behind a paper-thin facade of angelic purity.
"Uh-huh---yeah," she returned him an incredulous glance. What was this guy talking about? End of the world? In her time? Get real!
Nevertheless, she was startled when he replied suddenly, as if he sensed her doubt. More importantly, as if he disapproved of it, as that golden smle dispersed into a discontented frown. .He glided away from the window in her direction, his robes sweeping the floor with heavenly grace. He stopped a foot apart from her, and his cloud-like voice filled the room again with the ringing of a winged bell.
"If humanity's opinion is reflected in your cynicism, the end won't be long in coming."
The girl was growing less and less at ease in the presence of this cryptic man. If there was any advice her grandfather gave that she listened to, it was to never trust the drivel of preachers. Science was the guiding light in the screwed-up world of theirs. Being as polite as the sister of such a stuck-up snob such as her brother was, she replied, "Um---right." Her sneakers squeaking on the hard floor, she strayed towards a piece of furniture leaning on the wall, and glanced about.
"Did Grandpa say he was going out?"
The ringing escalated to a faint shrill gong, as if announcing a doom directly from the heavens.
"Why would you want to know? It won't matter if he goes out or stays in, for the end will come."
"Not this century," the girl scoffed. "Grandpa says that meteor's going to miss Earth by a few thousand miles---"
She stopped. The man's tainted eyes bore into her, halting her breath in her throat. They sparked no change, were still white, still aglow, but veiling a surfacing threat. For the first time, the robed man laughed, dainty and without much force, and yet he managed to maintain a severe tone.
"This Earth is more resiliant than that, to be destroyed by a pebble. Girl, the end of this world will be brought by a flood."
"My family's not religious. How do you expect me to believe a stupid thing like that?" she answered, asserting her role as temporary mistress of the house.Indeed, her brother hadn't shown up in her totally, but enough managed to ooze out from the cracks of her unassuming nature.
Bad timing.
The man quieted, turned around, stared towards the placid skies, and turned around again, an unearthly aura of pale white bathing him in its limitless opalescense, crowning him with shimmering authority. Without a change in his harmless expression, he outstretched his palm in front of her face.
"Easy. You will be the first to fall when the end arrives, you who is so against its coming."
He raised his hand level with the side of his face, an unseen energy pulling up the girl from the floor and suspending her in the midair. There he locked her in place. No amount of squirming would get her anywhere. Now she really was in a fix. She should've gotten out of there while she still could..but, too late for that.The angel of death was forming an energy blast directed straight at her. It engulfed the room with its intense glow, forcing her to shut her eyes and wait for it to be over...if she was alive after the blow had fallen.
The death knell exploded into a sick elegy.
"Let this be a reminder that the end will bring pain to your race FAR worse than this."
May Oak screamed louder than she ever had in her life as the ray of raw energy rammed into her entire body..
*~*~*
"I'm just asking one damn thing, and one damn thing alone...." Cid stepped out of his quarters, his hair a mess, black bags under his eyes, and tying his bathrobe around his waist as he shivered and pulled his bedroom slippers on. He began stumbling forward, reaching for the hallway lightswitch. He finally found it in the dark and flicked it up, but nothing happened. His blue eyes narrowed as his scowl deepened, and he flipped the switch several more times before he finally let out a low "SHIT" and clenched his fists as he looked down the hall towards the bridge of the Highwind. His eyes slowly adjusted to the light as he tromped forward, muttering to himself in a cranky, half-coherent voice.
"....and that one damn thing is that people respect my authority.'Let your poor crew take a night off,' she says. 'Get some rest; you look like you need some,' she says!" Cid halted and punched in the code to the bridge of his ship, stepping back as the steel doors opened with a loud "SWISH."
"Well, lah-dee-fucking-lah, Tifa," Cid growled as he stepped up to the controls and stared at them. None of the lights that should have been blinking were even turned on, and any sounds that would have been normally coming from the loud engines of the aircraft were silenced by the complete absence of any other crewmembers or AVALANCHE members alike.
"You've taught me never to trust another person with my job in my whole goddamn life...." Cid continued. He closed his eyes, his brow furrowed as he put his left hand to his forehead and dragged it down his face as he thought of the work it would take to get the ship back online. He could practically smell the sweat he would have to shed when he would climb down to the lower decks, and then the hours it would take to rewire the circuit board....
"Good thing we weren't in the air, or we'd all be dead shits." Cid opened his eyes, which had been significantly dullened by his ominous thinking, and shivered as he remembered what had caused the rude interruption in his sleep in the first place.
"The damn heater's busted too.... Damnit, why'd we have to be at one of the northern shores when Tifa screwed up, anyway!??" Cid closed his eyes in frustration as he rubbed his arms for warmth and began to walk towards the exit from the bridge. However, as he took one of the steps, he heard the sound of a crumpled paper crunching under one of his feet. He opened his right eye, blinking several times before he bent down, wincing at the stiffness in his spine as he did so, and picked up a piece of note paper. He uncrumpled it in his left hand as he stood back up and rubbed his aching back with his right.
"Dear Cid," he read out loud in his gruff, low voice. "We followed the Shin- Ra helicopter over here from out of their detection. However, when we landed, we had no other choice but to land as well, and to shut down all of the main systems so that it would be difficult for them to detect us. It's about twelve; me, Barret, and Red went out to see if we could find out what those Turks are up to. We'll be back in an hour or so.... Seeing as you're the lightest sleeper, and the change in temperature will probably wake you up, make sure not to wake anyone else up with your yelling, all right? Thanks for understanding,: Tifa."
Cid could only stare at the paper, dumbfounded that the girl had thought everything out so thoroughly. He brought a hand to his hair, scratching through the blonde strands with a hand as he continued to hold the paper in the other. Finally, after a minute of silence, he looked down at the watch on his wrist that Shera had given him for his thirty-third birthday.
"Fuck," he muttered. "It's four in the morning." He finally dropped the paper, looking up at nothing in particular as he wondered about what was holding up homie-boy, dog-breath, and judo-fighting-karate-girl past their specified time of return.
Cid looked down at the ground and sighed. He began walking towards his quarters, muttering to himself:
"Better go look for the dumbshits.... Damnit, you really do have to do stuff yerself if you want it done right....."
A golden eye shifted from side to side across the sparsely-vegetated ground, made visible only by the light that sifted through the grey dawn. Red sat on his scarlet haunches, shaking his wolfish head.
"I think I lost their trail..."
The two humans with him were alert as him in the dead of morning. After all, this was Shin-Ra that lay ahead of them. The danger that was thought to have been vanquished. After Diamond Weapon, Rufus was dusted. And after wasting the executives, there was no way that there could be a threat from that power-mad company ever again. How wrong they thought, since the Turks were there. And if Tseng had somehow come alive again, there was no guarantee that the rest were lifeless corpses. Midgar's border was in sight, when Red stopped. He scented the air with his black nose, tail straightening in anticipation.
"They've left Midgar."
"'Jes dandy, Red. We ain't 'gonna find 'em 'gain if we's goin' in circles!!" growled Barret, the irritation in his voice evident as he slammed his gun-arm on a nearby rock. Red eyed him warily: even Bugehagen used to be cranky at the crack of dawn. A human thing, maybe. Tifa took some initiative and started away from Midgar, her brown tresses blowing slightly in a weak wind.
"If he's right, we can catch up to them if we hurry."
"Shit, my legs..." Barret groaned. He was a tough man, but when it came to running, he wasn't very keen on that idea. Tifa shot him a knowing look and emphasized,
"IF we hurry."
The three AVALANCHE members soon found themselves traversing the barren, machine-ridden territory surrounding Midgar, crossing the elevated rock formations with increasing difficulty as they dipped and rose. Barret's cursing became more frequent as the uneven ground seemed to be endlessly on the incline: Shin-Ra's sixty-odd stories still managed to haunt him. The day was well into morning when they reached the end of the Turk's trail. It halted without any sign of diverging at a pale glow of light, rivalling the sun's rays as it faded and re-emerged continuously, flashing in the eyes of the AVALANCHE members.
"That's it. The ninja girl and I saw them walk right into it."
Both Tifa and Barret gave Red an incredulous look.
"You're sure?"
"Th' hell?!"
The wolf/lion-like creature nodded, focusing on the constantly paling and brightening light. Tifa blinked several times to ascertain she wasn't dreaming, and walked closer to it. Her tread became slower, the light becoming brighter the shorter the distance. Barret and Red followed, shielding their eyes as they closed the gap between themselves and the unknown. Red gave a nod of affirmation, his cerulean feathers bobbing as his head moved. Everyone in agreement, Tifa clapped both her fists over her eyes, the light becoming unbearably bright, and took a step into the light.
But before she could go anywhere, she heard a yell of anger behind her.
"WHERE D'YA THINK YER GOIN', YA COCKY, SHIP-WRECKIN' BITCH?!??!"
Before she could even react to the yell, she felt a heavy hand on her shoulder which roughly yanked her out of the portal and shoved her to the ground. Before she knew it, she was lying on her back, staring up at a familiar figure, who was, at the moment, silhouetted against the conflicting light and shadow of the dawn.
Cid pointed a gloved finger accussingly at Tifa, his blue eyes narrowed and his lips in the shape of a scowl around the smoking cigarette that he held clenched between his teeth.
"You'd better have a good explanation for yourself, kid!"
Tifa blinked in surprise. Cid was no gentleman, but he usually didn't go so far as to mishandle a woman. Then again, she didn't know the man's private life. Who was she to judge? Grunting, she propped herself up on one elbow, and from there getting to her feet. She brushed the dust off her shirt with her worn gloves, straightening as she looked at Cid.
"We were following the Turks," she said flatly. "They went into that," she continued, pointing at the white light with a good deal of irritation. "Barret and Red XIII went after them," she stated, jabbing a thumb at the said light.
Cid continued to scowl as he looked incredulously at a the patch of trees in the otherwise barren landscape of the outskirts of Midgar. He grinned and laughed a bit harshly as he looked back at Tifa and crossed his arms.
"Went into what? I don't see anythin'."
Tifa was about to protest, and turned around, only to find the portal gone. Her face contorted in vexation.
"But..it WAS there," she insisted, her dark brown hair drifting across her shoulder as she turned to gaze at.....nothing. "Barret and Red are gone. It HAS to be there."
Cid blinked at her a moment, still disbelieving, but the fake smile dissappearing from his face. "You sure you okay, La-tifa? Y'know, they made all of us in the Shin-Ra airforce take a cat scan...." Tifa nodded with firm conviction. "I KNOW what I saw, Cid. It was right....." She took a step foward, reaching her gloved hand to the place that had been bathed in white light, now empty space. "Here."
"There?" Cid looked a bit more serious as he followed Tifa and squinted his eyes towards the location of the so-called portal. After a few moments of bending down and inspecting the area, he stood up and looked at Tifa. "So, you're saying that Barret and Red and the Turks are off in some alternate dimension or somethin'?"
"Yes. I was going to follow them....." she trailed off. No words were needed for that. Her sore back attested to it. She rubbed it gently, brushing aside the ache. The AVALANCHE member turned to the older man, switching the topic. "I'm sorry about your ship, Cid. We didn't have any choice."
"CHOICE?!?!?" Cid immediately forgot about the situation at hand as he was reminded about the state of his beloved airship. "You know how long it's gonna take me to fix my baby, huh!??! Ya didn't just turn off the system; ya screwed over the entire MAINFRAME!!!! The whole damn thing's disabled!!!" He paused briefly to snuff out the stump of his cigarette between his gloved fingers, throw it to the ground, and grab a new one. "Hell, Tifa...." He pulled out a lighter with the Shin-Ra Air Corps insignia on it and set fire to his cig. "I feel like ya injured my fucking child or somethin'."
Tifa REALLY felt like being derisive to the pilot. The last thing she wanted to have happen was to become a second Shera. But she figured that it was best to let the guy rant. He would lose his voice sooner or later with that cigarette stuck in his mouth 24/7. Her eyes strayed to the flattened cigarette. AVALANCHE had initially formed to save the planet from Shin-Ra. Semi-wistfully, she wondered if she would have to save the planet from Cid's cigarettes.
Cid noticed the look that Tifa was giving to the remains of his tobacco and glared at her straight in the face. "Watcha lookin' at?" He answered his own question as he brought the second cigarette to his mouth and put his lighter back in one of his jacket pockets. "Hey, we're all gonna die anyway. Might as well make it a slow, painful, cancerous death, eh?"
"YOU do just that, but don't drag me into it with your second-hand smoke," she said in a mix of jest and gravity, emphasizing the point with a cough. Then she added, her voice completely void of mirth, "I just hope it's not too soon..." Cid chuckled under his breath, a strange smile coming over his face. He closed his eyes as he took a smoke of his cigarette and pointedly turned around in the direction opposite Tifa as he blew the foul smoke out of his mouth. The strange smile remained on his face as he turned back towards Tifa, the cigarette between the fingers of his right hand as he opened his eyes, leaned forward, and patted Tifa on the shoulder.
"Don't worry," he said, a small bit of bitter laughter underneath his voice. "I'll probably outlive you yet, kid."
He then moved away, turning towards the area where the portal had supposedly appeared. He took another puff of his tobacco roll and furrowed his brow. "So, what do we do 'bout the shit that Barret and Red got themselves into?" Tifa shot Cid her iciest glare. "If you didn't pull me out, I'd KNOW what to do." It quickly dispersed, never being the one to easily be engaged in a verbal battle. She leaned over, trying to catch a glimpse of the white light, but finding nothing but the invisible wind that coursed through the few clusters of leaves.
Cid crossed his arms once more, tapping one of his boots on the ground as he thought about the predicament. After a minute or so of silence, only broken by the sound of him blowing smoke out of his mouth, he said: "Well, what'd they do to open the damn thing in the first place?"
"Nothing. It was...just there," she answered plainly, pointing at the empty space, now occupied by Cid's smoke-clogged breath. She waved her hand in front of her face, the opressive stench inflaming her nostrils. A cough coincided with her next words. "No one set it off or anything.."
Cid glared at the young woman in frustration and then walked towards the trees themselves, inspecting them. "Seems kinda weird that there'd be a patch of vegetation in the middle of all this crap, huh?"
Tifa stood stationary, nodding her head while gazing at the sky. "Yeah..." The AVALANCHE member didn't need to say what had left an indelible scar on the planet. Meteor was still a vivid picture in her, no, everyone's minds. "Maybe it's because of Holy," she speculated, still gazing at the sky. There was no foreboding fireball there now, but nonetheless, the black sky was dead. The weapon had been destroyed, but left its irreversible impact on the face of the already-dying planet. Cid arched an eyebrow and knocked one of his gloved knuckles against a tree. He paused a moment, then rapped it again, harder. He turned back towards Tifa.
"Seems kinda weird that Holy would want to make hollow trees, then..." She blinked. "Hollow?" she asked, coming back down to the ground and followed Cid, inspecting the tree. She jabbed a fist at it to confirm, and stared in awe. "You're right..." She stepped away from the tree, assuming a thinking position. "What should we do?" Cid shrugged, picking up his Venus Gospel and twirling the large spear around in his hands and over his head with surprising ease. "We break the damn thing open, I s'pose." Tifa nodded, approaching the hollow tree. Leaning into a fighter's stance, shifting her weight to her back leg, she drove her fist, that was armored with a gleaming greyish metal, into the tree trunk. After her attack, Cid also charged, thrusting his spear into the trunk of the tree and then slashing it to the side. Under the stress of being attacked, the so-called tree seemed to break in half, revealing bunches of wires and various lights that blinked on and off from inside the contraption.
"Well, that explains it," Cid grumbled as he narrowed his eyes and lowered his weapon. "Another damn Shin-Ra trick... They must've been trying to disguise the portal-projection thing. And....." His eyes widened momentarily and he slapped his right hand to his forehead as he realized what he and Tifa had done. "FUCK! We broke it!!!"
Tifa's chocolate eyes bulged in realization, and she looked down at first, but her eyes brightened as she gave a knowing glance at Cid.
"You could fix it, couldn't you?" "Well... uh.... yeah... I suppose could......" Cid scratched his head, a dubious look on his face. "But HELL!!! I don't know how it works! For all I know, I could screw the damn thing up, and then we'd be in deep shit, not to mention Barret and Red!" "Then...what do we do?" she asked, vexation darkening the mood on her face. She stared at the now-exposed contraption, afraid to touch it again lest she shatter it. Cid shrugged and put down his spear as he knelt down to the broken machine and began to move the bunches of wires with his gloves. "I try to fix the damn thing. What else?" Tifa nodded, and plopped down on the ground, sitting up on her elbows. She idilly watched Cid work, running her eyes over the plethora of wires that protruded from the contraption like a mass of tentacles.
This could take a while...
*~*~*
Flocks of chirping Pidgey flew over the beaches, but none seemed to fly over the forest that Butch and Cassidy were currently in. It was as if there was an intangible aura that kept the normal wildlife away from this place. Indeed, it looked normal enough: with the usual foliage native to islands in the Orange Archipelago, which rendered the forest canopy pleasing to the eye. Yes, the forest itself boasted no threat, but the building that the two Rockets stood before was a different story.
From roof to foundation it radiated a bleak feeling of despair. Not that it LOOKED like a decrepit haunted mansion, or an imposing tower where grim destruction breeded, but Butch had a crawling feeling that he or Cassidy would like what they found in there.
He turned to his blonde partner. If she was creeped out, it didn't seem like it. Cool and controlled as always. But that was superficial. Underneath she was just as apprehensive as he was.
Butch approached the door. It looked harmless enough. With a shaky hand he was trying to steady, he turned the knob.
There was a sudden creaking as the door slowly swung inwards, and while Butch gave a startled yelp and jumped backwards, Cassidy also reeled, her eyes widening as the entrance revealed the dark, foreboding interior of the lab.
After a minute or so of silence, she finally caught herself. She gave a grunt and grabbed a half-terrified Butch by the wrist and began to drag him forward.
"It's a stupid door, you lunkhead," she muttered to her partner as she trudged into the ominous bu ilding. She paused and glanced around at the empty counters and the polished floors. As she spoke, she could hear her own dull echo bouncing off of the white walls. "And from the looks of it, no one has been here in a while." Butch nodded as he took a quick glance around the empty room. It was...too empty. He shuddered slightly. Usually someplace this deserted invited a lurking danger, and he couldn't help but think that the place was too quiet to be unoccupied. He turned to his partner, about to give his two cents, but then changed his mind. It was probably his imagination.
"What ahe we looking foh, Cass?" he inquired suddenly, that brief moment of anxiety causing him to forget their priorities. "Oh, yeah....." the Rocket said, looking more than a little abashed. He hadn't gotten used to Cassidy's spurts of irritation yet. Both were usually on the same level of intellect for the most part. But for some reason, Butch hadn't been feeling on par lately, and just being inside this empty lab was making it worse. Of course, he didn't tell his partner that.
"C'mon," she growled, her eyes narrowing as she walked forward, farther into what could be the pits of hell. "We're goin' in."
*~*~*
There was no pain, no ache, no feeling at all. Just a strange numbness, as if all of his senses had been parlyzed and been ordered to ignore his every whim. The only real thing he had any awareness of were voices... voices, everywhere, speaking in hushed, almost incoherent tones, and then escalating into screams, then slowly being quieted into whispers again. A few words made their way into his mind, a select few which, instead of bringing answers, only brought more questions--more
torment--to his lost and confused mind.
........dreams, you know? Dreams are like this....
......you think this is a dream, Flint?....
....I dunno, I think she might be one, though.....
.....GET AWAY......
........not going to hurt you.....
......who are you?.....
.....I.... I don't know.....
....After them! And the boy, find that----thing, we NEED him, or this research will be wasted, you hear me??! It'll be DONE for!!!!
....damnit, they found the subject first....
....wait.... the hospital?
..YES... do you know..... do you KNOW what this blood sample MEANS?!?!....
......Dude, we're going after her....and my son....
....You're crazy! You'll be killed!!!... and....
....Yes, Flint... killed.... you'll be deader than dead, more murdered than can be killed.... kill... kill....
....is it WORTH it to get back that th.----
.....it's my son.... not a thing..... bring the camera.....
....here it is.....
....INTRUDER ALERT.... INTRUDER ALERT......
.....FLINT!!!!.......
.....I'm not leaving you, Maya, I swear I won't----AAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!........
.......sir, the specimen... it's lacking.....
.......whispers.....whispers......whispers......
.....I see........then, Demoni must have the same problem..... and we each have a very useful donator......
.....for my son? I'll do it........
......good.......
......this is the only way to succeed......
.......will I be me?.....
......the bigger question is.... will he be you...?
......Flint....
......Light.........
............................................................................ .
......................Who............am....................I.........?
............................................................................ ....
........Your name is Gem---
.........his......... name....... is....... Brock........
.......Brock.....?
.........Your name is Brock..........
..........................
Brock sat bolt upright with a choked gasp, his senses suddenly alive again as he stared straight in front of himself, his eyes wide in confusion and terror and his entire body lathered in sweat. NOW he felt pain; he could feel a dull, almost drugged ache at the back of his head, and he could almost feel the pain of a spike or two on his shoulders that had been chipped when he had fallen.
Fallen? Oh, right. He slowly tried to stand up, but found that his legs were too weak, and he collapsed to the ground once more. He'd been shot by-- -something---or----other---when he had been attacking Giovanni for------ GIOVANNI!!!!!!!!!!!! Brock suddenly found himself snarling and growling, the primal sounds echoing in his gut as he threw himself at the walls of--- well, wherever he was. The vision in his red eyes was still blurred, and all he knew at this moment was revenge. WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU, YOU BASTARD!?!??!??!?!?
The same hell as you are in. The mental voice answered, void of the imperious tone that usually characterized him. He seemed despondent, aware that the slighest movement would move the hooks, and increase the steady pump of fluids into his brain. He wasn't even growling anymore, repulsed by the liquid that flowed into his jaws. Resisting the urge to simply cease thinking of and fearing consequences and become again the beast he was taking its toll on him, and his crimson eyes dulled from rage to sulleness.
Although Brock could "hear" the sad, strangely human voice, sensing its reverberation in his head, he continued to scratch at the walls, his sight still bleary.
Where am I, then?!? Who are you working with?!?!? Don't try to bullshit me, you----WHAT?!?!?
His eyesight had suddenly cleared, and he was dumbfounded at what he saw. Two points of blinding red light engulfed his vision, and he found himself skittering away on his clawed hands and feet, the image in front of him slowly becoming more distinct until its details became painfully obvious. The sight, though somewhat familiar to Brock by this point, still caused his throat to tighten and his jaw to clench.
It's........ me............. He said to himself as he stared at his visage in the mirror in front of him. He looked.... cleaner, to say the least. It seemed as if someone had tidied him up; his scales shined slightly, his claws looked polished, and all of his wounds had been healed---somehow. But, wait....... There was an empty space on the top of his head where his hair should have been, and his remaining piece of tattered clothing--his pants--had since been removed.
Brock's eyes narrowed at his reflection and he growled as he looked around; it seemed as if the walls, ceiling, and floor were all made of mirrors. Great. Not only do they humiliate me and make me a monster, but they leave me naked and shave my hair off. Oh, this is just terriffic....
The reptile cocked his head at a slow pace, somehow avoiding the increased flow of chemicals at this slight movement. This angle enabled him to see the monster across from him. He couldn't believe it at first, and wondered if the fluid was diminishing his sight. But his eyes fully focused on the tortured shape of the other monster, he saw that his vision wasn't failing. There was Brock, without hair or pants, which erased any assumption that the creature had been a boy at any time in his life. Hair that didn't grow everywhere and clothes were unique to humans, and without these features, the other looked completely monstrous, with no hint of anything humanoid about him. To resemble a human, no matter how hideous the creature looked, retained a fraction of humanity. A tiny sliver, but it was still there. But with all features of humanity stripped away, Brock was simply yet another beast.
He sees it fit to torture in effective ways. Came the mental voice from the motionless reptile. If you're not enlightened on the rest of your situation.....things cannot get much worse. A low growl emitted from his closed mouth. You are----- He made the mistake of jerking his head, and his thought pattern became disconnected and incoherent. --in---somewhere...He said about---two Gemini, and--caught one--are you caught---?
Huh? Brock dejectedly looked upwards, at the seemingly ordinary mirrors. He grit his fangs. They were probably one-way mirrors, and strong ones at that. He went back to conversing with his arch-enemy. You aren't making any sense. Go over that again....
I said.....He growled menacingly, frustrated that he couldn't find the...words to convey this. Two Geminis---one caught. He began to panic, and he shot his head sideways to gaze at the other's cell, in a pathetic attempt to focus, tightening the wires in the process. Brock blinked at nothing in particular, as Giovanni could see him but he couldn't see Giovanni. He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, staring at his hideous reflection with a cold, emotionless face. Give it up. I don't get you.
It was at that moment that the sound of a door swinging open was heard.
Giovanni upturned his massive head, the repulsive hooks pulling on his brain, shutting off his thoughts as he stared at the other monster in frustration, who was resigned to a worse fate. Then he looked at the opening door. What else could happen?
A bent shadow cast itself over the sterile floor, and its owner shuffled through the doorway, hands clasped behind his back in his usual hunched position. His pallid visage lightened as he craned his neck upwards, pushing up his glasses to see his two specimens.
"You must be enjoying the accomodations."
A thin grin spread over his face at the "newcomer." "And you, Gemini," he added with a heigtening menace that did not show in his quiet voice, "I'm pleased to see you're making optimum use of my mirrors."
He concluded with a satisfied smirk fit for such a sadistic and twisted mind, "I made them just for you."
Brock could hear a voice, albeit muffled, through the walls, which soon became clearer when some kind of speaker was activated--one that seemed to be in his own head.
Wh-what?!? He snarled at this new threat, pausing a moment when he heard his own thoughts projected on a speaker from outside of the walls, and then growling again, lunging at one of the mirrored walls, which he hoped to be nearest this.... person. Who the hell are you?!
"I believe that a more appropriate question would be 'who are you?'" he sneered, peering into the mirror-filled cube. He was aware that he other couldn't see him, and this disadvantage would only worsen the reaction of the subject. The more worse, the better, all the more satisfying to his carnivirous intellect.
Who... am I...?! Brock found himself hesitating for a moment, remembering the disturbing series of voices that he had been hearing just a few minutes before. However, he soon got ahold of himself, and began scratching at the walls, as if looking for some way to escape. I know who I am!!!! Brock Bravestone----uhm----seventeen years old----and--uhm---damnit, I DO know who I am, so don't try to pull any crap!!!! IVY did this to me, and--and--- so did.....HIM!!!! Brock pointed wildly around the cell, trying to find the location that Giovanni's thought speech had been coming from. And right now, I want to know what's going on!!!!
"Oh, you mean Belina?" Hojo arched a curious eyebrow. "I applaud your partial correctness. She did complete the final procedures, but you're not aware of who began the experiment, are you?"
He made his way around the cube in a slow circle, not waiting for an answer before speaking again,
"Of course you're not. You were but a hatchling when I took you and your mother."
He slid his glasses off, fogging the round lenses with putrid breath, and wiping them clean on his shirt. Giovanni widened his eyes: he could have sworn he saw a tint of an alien sort of virdian in those cold, dark orbs of menace.
"Perhaps I am mistaken..one does forget these exact dates and times," he said to no one in particular. "I do know that your animal brain isn't developed enough to remember that far back. It was some time ago, I believe."
I..... WHAT!??!? Brock snarled at his own reflection. Don't try to trick me, whoever you are.... I'm---I---- He choked slightly. ---I WAS the oldest of of... a bunch of kids.... and I know who my parents were---Flint and Piedra. I DON'T have a... an... "animal brain," so I.... I..... I know you're lying!
"It seems that this subject will need convincing as well," the scientist muttered under his breath. "Me? Lying? Look at yourself, Gemini. You should know that your brain is underdeveloped just by looking at your refection. Is that the body of something posessing a human brain? Hm? You tell me, Gemini. You pretend to know who you are."
I.... I..... Brock suddenly felt lightheaded, woozy, and he found himself rubbing his temple with a claw as he fell forward onto the mirror in front of him. He suddenly remembered that he hadn't eaten a thing for the last two days, and he took a huge breath of air before he looked into the mirror. He looked at the face which wasn't really his own and responded dully: As long.... as--as long as I can reason.... like between right and wrong... I'm still human, even if I look..... look like... this.... I don't CARE what you say..... You sound just like... like Gio... Gio... What's that bastard's name, again...? Gio... whatever; you sound just like him from before he got sunk, but I still won't believe anyone who says it... because... because it isn't true.
"You're still human," he repeated slowly, shaking with supressed laughter. "You can't even remember your nemesis's NAME, let alone differentiate between right and wrong." He paused, to let the words sink, or more of, drill into the monster's receptive brain. "Right...was it RIGHT to come here, in search of revenge? That is because of your instincts. But with these instincts, you can't reason. You only are led by them, and you must follow them, because they are you."
His name... doesn't... matter...... He.... killed.... them.... A tear came to one of Brock's tired eyes, even as he laid limp on the ground. For some reason.... the moisture he was shedding seemed to exhaust him completely. He should.... die.... too.... His eyes slowly glazed over, and his forked tongue lolled out of his mouth. I'm so..... so...... He licked his dry lips with his parched tongue and outstretched a hand towards the wall, where he vaguely guessed someone could see it from the outside. So... thirsty....
"Not anymore, it doesn't....." Hojo cut himself off, developing a sudden interest with the misshapen hand. He strode towards it, bending gradually lower until his sight levelled with the clawed monstrosity. "Ah...those other instincts are finally making themselves known. Bloodlust, yes.....displaying a vampiric nature. Not cannibalistic. That implies that you'd take the blood of a fellow HUMAN...Vampiric, beause of separate species, one human and one percievably far from it. Of course..." he summed up. "You are the parasite in this symbiosis. Yes, very much like that creature of nonsensical rubbish...." He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "What is it? Ah, yes...a vampire."
V-vampire....? Brock looked up blearily, his eyes narrowed until they snapped open, strangely blank in their stare. BLOOD.... Brock's nose began to move as he sniffed out... something or other, his head turning wildly as he staggered to his feet and stumbled around the interior of the cube. Whether his sudden delirium was induced by the implant in his skull , the chemicals in his bloodstream, or even his own mind was unknown, but one thing was for certain: The human part of him, for the time being, was no longer in control.
Only one phrase could be heard through the speakers that projected his frenzied thoughts, one phrase which rang eerily in the large laboratory.
Where is it....? Where is it....? WHERE IS IT....?
Zero-X, silent until now, growled as he shifted his head again, loosening the tight grip of the hooks. It was then he realized, the frenzied desire in the other monster's eyes, that he wanted blood. He snarled, almost pleadingly.
Control yourself.....that is how he wants you to act....as an animal.....
"Exactly as I thought. It's instincts are showing plainly, now. If I don't satisfy them, it may lose total control over those lingering human tendencies. What tragedy....." he laughed to himself, gleaming eyes narrowing in delight.
"Yes...a tragedy....." the scientist muttered, the alien color of his eyes piercing the specimen's cube, in the way so many Rune blades would gore a dragon's heart. He began to walk the length of the cube, turning sharply, and walking in the opposite direction, his fingers holding his chin in deep contemplation, and a resentful grimace signalled that he had changed his mind. "But...it occurs to me that you are thirsty...it wouldn't do for you to die of starvation. No, not at all."
S-starve.... Blood... Need.... blood...? Brock suddenly got ahold of himself and fell to his knees, whimpering as he held his claws to his face. Wh-what the hell's wrong with me??!
"Nothing is wrong with you, Gemini," he answered in sadistic glee, every feature of his face depicting malicious evil. "No....."wrong" would be if you were craving for human food." He paused to quirk an eyebrow. "Curious...you still imply with your speech that you''re human. Even the most simplistic being would know that the only humans that are cannibals crave human tissue." He flashed a twisted smile. "But I did mention that before, didn't I? " He waved his hand dismissvely. "Not that it matters. In any scenario, you will have your.....blood. "
No... I'd rather take McDonald's, damnit....... He snarled at his own reflection with self-loathing. I'D RATHER EAT MCDONALD'S, YOU HEAR ME?!? He gave out a roar and tackled the image of himself, crashing into the wall and falling to the ground inside the shell once more. He rolled over and shrank back against the opposite side of the cube, sitting there for a moment, breathing harshly and feeling a rivulet of blood stream down from his forehead to his cheek.
"How amusing...despite your mental degradation, you can still name the site where bio-hazardous materials are heavily concentrated." He stroked his chin thoughtfully before assuming a more terse demeanor. "That won't satisfy your hunger, I'm afraid. Your body craves for blood, and blood alone. It was inevitable, because you were born with that instinct."
No I DON'T, you freak!!!!! Brock grit his fangs. Just throw a Big Mac in here or something---I'll eat it,---you'll see!!! He rubbed the black liquid off the side of his face with the back of his hand. Hah! Mental degradation! You're the one who's.... who's.... He blinked his pupiless eyes as they slowly wandered down towards the hand. He stared at the blood on it with a strange fascination. It's..... it's cold......
"Indeed," he snickered in delight, completely ignoring the other's name- calling. It was inconsequential, after all. "The same property as your 'friend's', I might add," he stated, a delighted smile creasing his face as Zero-X squirmed. He shuffled towards the computer panel, chin between his thumb and forefinger as he looked downwards, concentrated on something or other. He didn't turn around as he said, "As for that excuse for a victual..." He typed a command on the panel, a minute elapsing before the food appeared in a container at the rear of the lab. He turned a knob and fiddled with a dial, the Big Mac teleported, and vanished from the container, reappearing inside the cube.
"Impressive, these Silph teleporters. Eliminates the need for elevators."
Suddenly, as if on a whim, he typed in several more commands, the mirrors generating a mechanical whir as they retracted. Ah, but this was Hojo. Spontanaiety was the farthest from his mind as he watched his specimen's reaction to the meal.
Brock's misshapen hand lashed out at the vile combination of bread, beef, lettuce, tomato, mayonnaise, and cheese. He brought it to his mouth in a quavering arc, and chomped down on the burger. His hands flew to his throat. A distorted gag followed by a horrified snarl ignited a satiated smirk from he, who was such a small and unimposing entity, the falsity of which was painfully obvious. The half- chewed glop spewed from Brock's mouth, landing on the base of the cube. He fell to his knees, an enraged voice ripping through the speakers.
"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS CRAP?!?!"
Hojo let out a chuckle so sinister it would shame Sisyphus.
"The palplable proof of your inhumanity...no..your idiocy in REFUSING to accept your current...condition," he answered unconcernedly. He depressed a second button, and the burger separated itself into millions of particles before vanishing from the cube. Raising a hand to adjust his glasses, he strode away from the panel again, the lab lights playing on his lenses, making them appear a stark white. "Other than that, it serves as a sufficient poison for humans."
Low-down bastard!!! There's NO WAY that meat wasn't months old!
God, he felt SICK. Brock doubled over, gripping his stomach so hard black rivulets seeped thorugh his scaled hide and rolled down in jagged streams. Now crawling, CRAWLING over the surface of that goddamned cube, he fought the overwhelming urge to vomit all of his organs that were completely, totally rejecting this substance. He pressed his pained face against the glass, glaring at the slowly retreating form of the scientist. More of disgust than anything. He would've thought someone so expert at torturing the shit out of innocents would be adept at persuasion----so what if he didn't have his clothes OR his hair? It didn't make him any less human. And he WAS human, damnit!
Nice try, whoever the hell you are, but I saw through your plan.....feeding me rotten food so I'd THINK I was some sort of monster!
The bald, naked, blood-covered, imprisoned creature began to laugh: bitterly, coldly, but with a tinge of cocky mirth.
A nervous growl from Zero-X signalled that something was awry. Hojo was once again punching buttons on the panel, a crane-like instrument responding to his command. From what the numbed receptors in his brain could discern was that the crane was connected to the ceiling directly above the cube.
I'm STILL human! Give me some REAL food and I'll prove it!
Brock rubbed off the involuntary drool that was dripping from his fanged mouth with the scaly back of his hand. Hit by the reminder that physically, he was a freak, he tore his hand away and growled outraged.
I WANT a damn BIGMAC!!!
His blazing eyes burned with intense fervor.
I'll show you I'm human!!
He banged on the wall of the cube with his clawed fists with violent excitement, trying to get that labcoated asshead to TURN around. In the back of his humanoid mind, that was the sole thing bothering him....normally he would've said something by now. But he was at the panel, pushing away, lost in a world of technical processes that would inevitably have some sort of end result..
Jesus, why'd he have to be right?
Hojo revealed his twisted mug as he turned around, hands returning to their clasped position behind his back, shuffling across the sterile floor towards the cube. Halfway he glimpsed his writhing figure, dragging itself to the..BODY that Hojo had dumped into the cube.
Not any body...not another cadaver whose only identification was a tag; remove the tag and you have nothing.
Hojo turned back to the panel..that DAMNED panel. While the realization sank painfully in Brock's brain, and every organ sank with it, the madman depressed a different set of buttons, distracted, detatched from his specimen's plight in thought or action. Ignoring the feral sobs of a mere BOY like he was a dead leaf fallen onto the sidewalk.
Brock didn't want to hold her. She would be poisoned by his demonic touch, because of who..what...he was... He would profane a sacred temple with hands of Hell.... His eyes burned with tears. This wasn't...supposed to be happening.....that wasn't...that couldn't be..she couldn't be.....dead? With a pained roar he leapt to the cube, that single wall that was the only thing keeping him from tearing the throat out of his tormentor.
You KILLED her!!!!!!
He threw himself against the wall, slamming head-on until his skull rattled and blood flowed into eyes, but rage blided him more than the black blood. He was on the verge of passing out when Zero-X gave a warning roar, but the words, even amplified by the speaker, were lost to him, as Hojo tapped a final button, the mechanized din of a moving contraption drowning it. It subsided, and Hojo snatched the opportunty of the silence and answered Brock. Apparently, he had been listening all along.
"No, Gemini...don't presume to make quick assumptions..it will get you nowhere. You see---" The device, that projected from the base of the cube, steadily rose, closing off sight of one whole side. Brock flew to it, clutching his hands in anger: this wall was a thick metal. He felt himself drop, catching the glass with his throbbing head. Through tormented eyes he read the sadistic lips as the metal swallowed the walls of the cube, plunging him into the unsympathetic void of silence.
"---one cannot stand between a potential vulpine specimen and a loaded firearm and expect to reach their full life expectancy."
Hojo smiled amusedly at Zero-X's expected stupidity.
"Gemini can no longer hear me...or anything else, for that matter," Hojo mused to himself. "It's only a matter of time before he won't be able to resist. The instincts are far too potent..." He shuffled towards the lab light, chuckling to himself. "And when he discovers he has prolonged his own life by draining this girl...Suzy of Scissor Street, wasn't it?" He shut them off, submerging the silent lab in all darkness except the eerie glow of the liquid in the tube. "Ah.....but how little the name means..." He regained his track of mind with little effort. "Ah...where was I? There won't be any reason for him to offer resistance." As he slowly pushed open the door, he smiled at the muffled roars of anguish radiating from the metallic- covered cube, the hopeless struggle of mind over body.....he loved every moment of it. The mere thought of it sent chills of delight up his curved spine.
Curved...he noticed recently that he'd been stooping lower and lower. People of average height seemed to tower over him. Ah....it must be his age. Still..he couldn't help pondering what had happened between that day and returning to work....But it was easily dismissed. There were other matters elsewhere that needed to be attended to. It annoyed him that this business would take him away from his specimens, but he supposed he would have to take it like any other interruption in his work.
Besides, it wasn't entirely an interruption. Ivy hadn't reported in to him since the second phase had started. Perhaps it was time to see what she was up to.
*~*~*
A/N: There you go. Chapter 14 coming soon. Hope you enjoyed it! If you didn't..well...oops. ^^; I hope this is worthy of Erin's greatness. ^^