The Tenth Clone
by Salem Saori
Final Fantasy VII and all characters are © of Squaresoft, except the main character and Kingitsune.
Authoress' Note: This is an angst fanfic. This means it's a very angry story. There's a bit of blood and graphic violence, as well as language.
The first time that I was in Shin-Ra…
Those times seem now so distant, so… Far away. Yes – it was a long time ago. So much, that I can't remember exactly where… But I think that everything started…
I was just a new employee. One between one thousand, between one million. But, for some reason, you approached me – you and Kingitsune. In those times, I still was in the archeological department of the company. I investigated, together with her, who was my boss, where we could establish new Mako reactors, and wherether they were useless, we should wip them away. I was so naïve…, Didn't know, didn't realize the effects that Shin-Ra had over the Planet, nothing about the corporation's explotation on the Mako energy, nothing about the genetic experiments… And, practically, nothing about me.
Pitiness. Was that why…? Did you and Kingitsune know what was I? Did you know what they had tried to do with my body – what they had tried to turn me in? Did you know about me… More than myself? Or was it just a casuality that my boss, normally so apathic and serious towards everyone, was so warm with me? Or just because I was one of the few experiments of Hojo which turned out to be minimally successful – a numbered experiment? Was it because of that "X" in my forehead – that "ten" which nothing mattered, but which so much meant?
What was I supposed to be? A weapon? An individual? A clone – the tenth clone…?
That's why I've always felt an instinctive pitiness towards failed clones – Black Capes. The same pitiness, maybe, which Shin-Ra felt for me. Just maybe, that experiment that was done with me –the former "me"–, like so many others, wasn't completely successful, but for some reason, they didn't abandon me, just like they did with all the others. For the minimally human physic? Or maybe because I wouldn't vanish in thin air if I died? Or just because I'm more material than my brothers and sisters?
Yes, I'm related to them all. Or perhaps not… Maybe I'm not a clone of Jenova, of Sephiroth… Of Cloud. While I'm here, actually, I'd like to go and tell him away. To get my revenge through that so-innocent boy, my revenge on Shin-Ra, on Jenova, for what they did to my former self.
Kingitsune knew it. That's the primal reason why she had never been severe or harsh with me. That's why we always went to the Golden Saucer and spent all our money there. That's why I was the 'best companion they could've ever assigned to her'. Oh, what the hell – that's why I got hired at Shin-Ra in a first place. Pitiness. The basis of my life. I wasn't the best one, I was the one she felt saddest towards. But not only her – that's the funniest thing. Hojo, the president, his son, and you. I wasn't a full success, but not a failure either. I had a future. Although I wouldn't blast away the world, I could kill it slowly, like all Shin-Ra did.
Your idiots.
I hate you all now. More than ever. I don't give a fuck about the Planet, the only thing I want to get from my so-called 'companionship' with AVALANCHE is revenge. As bloody as it can get…
To think I used to believe in Shin-Ra, Kingitsune and you, makes me sick.
Oh, yeah, at the beginning I even got to consider her – how was it?, a friend. That's right, I thought that we simply got along, and pretty well for that. We simply were the "perfect team", as she called it. Without any doubts – I, indeed, was the best companion they could've assigned her. Ironic, isn't it?
Lies, all I got back were lies. Warm looks, friendly smiles, full nights at the Golden Saucer. A relationship out of the working standards, a friendly one. I cared for her, I loved her like an older sister. And thought she would reflect the feeling. What did I get from this?
Let me clarify it – nothing.
Not much of a difference with you. Someone older, more mature and intelligent, that is. Somebody I could trust in, somebody I could ask for advice or opinion when I needed it and Kingitsune wasn't there. But, when I found out the truth, when I found out about who was I – and who were you, was any of you there, to explain, to give me a mere excuse?
No.
Sad, isn't it? I still remember which were the circumstances that led to it. Kingitsune had a passion for history, and what a better place to go on a free day, that the Shin-Ra mansion at Nibelheim. A quiet, small village, with a big story. More than what I thought, in fact. And indeed, there I was, following her sheeply.
"Let's go!" She cheered, that capturing, warm smile always on her rosy lips. "It'll be interesting!" She dared to say, almost urging me to accompany her. Oh, of course it was interesting. But not in the way that liar wanted me to think.
Half an hour in a "borrowed" advertising 'copter, and there we were. Cold clime, snowy mountains, a strange place with a disturbing atmosphere. And an impressive, imposing mansion which rose between all the small houses – the Shin-Ra Manor.
"Is this the one?" Asked I naïvely, just like there was another mansion like that in the shitty village.
Kingitsune simply nodded. Her cold, ice blue eyes, normally closed, opened to contemplate it, a glint of pride being ditinguishable in them for some seconds. "Here I am.", is what they seemed to say. What a dumb sentence. It surprises even me.
We entered the house, the atmosphere cold and old. Nothing impressive, might I say – it wasn't as big as it looked, in fact. But Kingitsune was enthusiasthed. She started inspectioning each corner of the first floor, searching for documents, hints of history, or who-knows-what else. To say the truth, I went bored, and decided to investigate a bit on my own by adventuring into the second floor. Stupid me.
The second floor was incredibly damp, even for that old mansion. It was horrible. While I covered my poor nose with one hand, I started looking between the useless papers and writings, searching for something that I still do not know. But that village, Nibelheim, had awakened in me a strange attraction – and it was becoming stronger.
There was nothing interesting inbetween those old files. I searched methodically, room by room. But there were no results at all. When I was going to call out Kingitsune, I accidentally leaned on a wall which sliced aside with a groan.
The sight of metallic-looking stairs made my strange feeling rise. I knew I had to go down… Or maybe not?
A well… That's what that spiral staircase seemed to me, the atmosphere becoming dense silent, only broken by the sound of my steps, decending into the darkness almost mysthically. I adventured myself down into the Manor's basement relatively quickly, with confidence. I knew silence was not a good sign, but I had seen worse things – or at least thought so.
What I saw down there couldn't surpass any former sight.
It's not easy to descrive those narrow paths, drowned by dampness, their ground covered by partly-devoured skeletons, old chunks of rotten flesh literally ripped off the corpse, or whatever they used to be. An hermetic, closed door of steel, the interior of which I simply did not want to meet. Everything down there was dead. There was nothing to fear.
There was only a library at the end of that catacomb, a surprisingly neat-looking one. Great, tall shelves full of books occuppied its great part. There were also diaries and anotations everywhere. Files. I would've died if I had to search in all those books. But the notes were much more interesting…
"Subject (A). Day 1. No reaction shown to the administrated cells."
"Subject (B). Day 3. Reacted to Jenova's cells."
My eyes narrowed in a frown when I read that name. "Jenova". It was strange how familiar it sounded. '"Jenova"…'
I was quite surprised to find this research's continuation. And, much for my disgrace, I didn't hesitate to read it.
"Subject (C). Created October 13th. Day 17.
The subject's react to Jenova's cells is positive. Its mind is not perturbated, like subject (B)'s, but not clear like subject (A)'s. A number has been assigned to it – Number 10."
"Day 19.
The symbol in the forehead of Number 10 has reacted to a small cut. For some instants, an unknown type of energy has been flowing out of its wound."
October 13 – my birth date. I brought a hand to my forehead… Wishing that symbol would have disappeared would be good for nothing.
There it was, a bold X of whose purpose or origins I had never known.
X. The experiment #10 – the tenth clone.
That miserable note made my eyes opened. Although, like anybody, I tried to deny it, covering myself with lies. 'It can't be', I calmly told myself. 'It's just a casuality, I can't be an experiment of Shin-Ra, because I…
…because before affiliating with Shin-Ra, I…'
That's when I understood. Nothing. Before Shin-Ra, there was nothing. No family, no friends, no life. There was no memory. Shin-Ra was all what I remembered – all what had existed.
Wrath surpassed confussion. In an enraged impulse, I picked a knife which decorated the shelves, and went out of that humid library. I ran across the rotten corpses, which no longer had effects on me. I remember having tripped over something, almost falling over, but didn't even bother to look. The only I wanted were explanations.
"KINGITSUNE!!"
That woman whom I had once trusted looked at me, an eyebrow arched. "What's the matter?" She asked, her look raising from my hands, where I held the golden dagger, to my eyes.
"Kingitsune" I repeated, panting, "tell me what the hell is wrong with this place."
I handed her the note, willing her to laugh and throw it away, carefreely telling me that I had misunderstood it and there was nothing to worry about. But seconds of silence, marked by the calm sound of the old clock against the wall, passed tensionfully, and there was not the minor change on that woman's face.
After a minute which seemed a decade, she looked at me again, running a hand across her short, pale blonde hair, and murmuring laconically,
"I'm sorry."
Those were her last words.
When my common sense took over again, I found my forehead and hands coated in crimson blood. I picked again that knife, which had just assured me a life which wouldn't be the same. I grabbed my lab coat, carefully brushing it against my forehead; blood, just blood… I had cut that knife's blade across the X in my forehead, just like that note said it had reacted, and after that…
Run. I ran away, knowing that the people at Nibelheim wouldn't fail to notice something was wrong. I didn't care. They didn't remember me, they didn't know who I was. I would let Shin-Ra go and leave…
When I reached the Shin-Ra headquarters for what would be the last time, I ran across until finding you. I remember it perfectly – when you saw me that way, without Kingitsune, you gave me a look of confussion and fear, which I just ignored. I grabbed ahold of you, pushing you against one way, my knife's blade almost brushing against your neck.
"What the hell…" You muttered, fear painted simply across your face.
"I want you to tell me" I grunted. "everything."
"Everything what?" You asked, shading your voice with a desperate tone.
"Listen" I spat. "It wouldn't get you very happy to have this dagger cut your neck, isn't that right?"
"What's wrong with you? Need anything? Where's Kin—?"
"DON'T MENTION HER!" I screamed pushing the knife further into your sweating skin, clean tears of blood starting to drip cleanly across the small weapon.
After closing your green eyes for some seconds, you muttered a reply which wanted to sound calm.
"All right. Now, tell me what's happenned in Nibelheim…"
"You see" I said, carefully pulling the note out my pocket, now marked with crimson. "I found this little 'note for the future' in the Shin-Ra Manor. Now, tell me what am I and what the hell am I here for."
You took exactly the same time as Kingitsune reading that paper and thinking of a reply. But, fortunately for your life, it wasn't the same she had given.
"I don't know why they do it… Injecting cells from that… Thing… I believe all experiments have failed… I suppose you didn't… I don't know."
After some more seconds, I released you, feeling how your tension vanished, how your heartbeats' rythm decreased slowly.
"Are you going to kill me?" You asked, your eyes narrowing as you touched the wound in your neck.
I gave no answer.
Simply, I leaved the building. I leaved Midgar. I thought I'd never see you again.
I hope I was wrong. Not because I'm willing to see you, but to clear some of my doubts. I admit, killing Kingitsune wasn't the best idea, nor the best way to put an end to everything.
That X inevidibly became a fetish, a symbrol for me. When something angers me, when my 'other half' takes over, I pull out the only material possession which is fairly mine; that knife, that golden dagger which I stole from that library, in that day which I'd like to forget – and more than one time the victims of my attack have been more than some monter creatures who messed up with the wrong person.
Not until much ago, I simply lived wandering from place to place, searching for answers, for clues I'd never find. That's when a small town caught my attention. Rocket Town. A quiet place, with a certain resemblance to Nibelheim, but without the sinister air. That's where I met Shera, a young woman whom I quickly became friends with, although she obviously can't avoid thinking that I'm a little frightening. Since not much time ago, I live in Shera's house, with her and a man who, apparently, was going to be the first human to go to the space, but…
Why to lie, I don't remember their story… I have got better things to think about while Shera is talking. I'll leave soon anyway. I don't like staying in the same place during much time. Both of them are quite nice, but trusting people isn't something I'm good at anymore…
Finis…