Five.

These labs . . . I never noticed before. . . They're so cold. Just like him. I. . . I can't believe I never noticed any of this before. He's just like his experiments, his labs. Cold, cruel, fucked up. But he's being . . . nice to me. So nice. . . I just don't understand.

Does he know? Does he know what I . . . what I need to do? Has he figured it out? I hope not. . . I don't . . . I don't want him to stop me. He can't stop me.

He's just doing this to stop me. I know it. That's all this is about. He's stopping me, so he can toy with me longer. So he can fuck me up just like he does everyone else. Like . . . those stories about that Lucrecia woman. What he did to her. Wasn't that a woman he loved? Or, was it just a game? Like this has to be . . . it's a game. I know it is.

It has to be a game.

Maybe I should listen. . . Maybe I should listen to it, and do it. I should kill. To avoid this game, to get rid of this . . . this torment. I should just . . . I should just do it right now. Fuck him, fuck this. He's just playing a fucking game. He's trying to keep me here, keep me in his fucking ice cold grasp, to fuck me and play games with my mind. I have to get away from it.

Now.

I should just walk out of here, right now. Get rid of all this. Kill. But how could I kill something so beautiful? Something so fucked up. . . No.

I don't have to kill him, to get out of all this. I . . . I can just, kill myself. Yes.

That would get me away from this game.

That would keep me safe, keep me from this pain, this man. I know all of it is just some kind of play for him. To watch me, to see how I act. And . . . and if I die, wouldn't that be a lovely ending for his little game? A nice story, to think back on. To remember our sex, to laugh at how short of a time I lasted. To enjoy how wonderfully this all went. . .

Or would he prefer it, if I lasted longer? If he could mislead me for a long time?

I am sure. . . I'm sure he would enjoy that more. But . . . but I'm not going to subject myself to that. Fuck him. His game can be enjoyed with someone else, someone who can't know, who won't know, for such a long time. Someone he can fuck with and will never know, like a sheep. An unsuspecting sheep. Like I was at first.

"Cloud?" What? Shit. . . He noticed me. "Cloud? Hun? Are you alright?" No. Get the fuck away from me. Do not walk over here. . .

He did. Damnit. Get away from me. I had to look away. "Yeah. . . I'm fine."

"You keep staring off into space. Perhaps you aren't faking it. . ." Of course I'm not fucking faking it. You should know that. You've studied me enough, I bet, to know. I'm not faking the true pain, but that shit earlier, yeah. Fuck you, if you care.

"Bored. . . I'm just bored." More lies. But I have to lie. Don't you see? Keep lying. Or he will figure out everything, if he hasn't already. . . He probably has. I hate him so much. . .

"Oh. Well, you can go anywhere in the labs. If you get hungry, just let me know, okay? I have to go back to work now." Go back to work. Go.

"Wait. . . Where's the restroom?"

". . . It's over there." Hojo pointed me in the right direction, and off I went. If I kill myself now, then he won't be able to fuck me up more. I know . . . I know no one else would understand. Not even him. But I have to. I've needed to do this . . . before all this happened. I'm nothing, but. . . I thought I was, when he . . . when I thought he loved me. I was wrong. I'm just shit, like I said before. . .

But in there. . . I can just find something to kill myself with. Or no. Oh, there. Look. . . A knife. If I could just get that, and make sure Hojo didn't notice. . . Fuck it if he noticed. Just grab the knife and go to the bathroom. He'll be too busy. He's too busy to notice me grabbing a knife, I know, but not busy enough to fuck with my head.

With anyone's head!

This is all just a fucking game to him, and I'm cheating my way to winning. . . Even if winning means I die. It would be so much better . . . much better than if he got to kill me instead. That would mean he won.

Or does this mean he won?

I don't care. Just as long as I get away from it. Away from everything. Away from this pain, this fucking life. I'm nothing, and no one seems to understand it. I'll never make it to SOLDIER. I'll never be anything but a grunt worker, someone to be killed off by the enemy, something expandable.

So. I'm ending it.

I'm going to show these people . . . that I truly am nothing.