Sinner's Descent
Chapter One-Fall of the Oogie and Rise of the Evil
They were watching him. Every last, single one of them. They were all watching him, causing the stitches on his sack to loosen and the beings that feasted on his innards to squirm. An unsettling feeling it brought, them watching him. Made him jittery, nervous. It made him feel stupid, incompetent, as if he didn't belong. A feeling he didn't like. Not at all.
They thought he didn't know. Thought he didn't know they were watching and waiting, for the time to strike. Waiting, waiting, always waiting. All of them were. For a time when he had his gaurd down. Ha! As if it would ever come! He was leader of this Alliance, the ONE, the man, or thing, who made it happen. They would never get him. Or so he believed.
They were all at it again, at this very moment, outside his door, watching, waiting, ever vigilant in their quest to bring him down. And that slimy, sneaky bastard Ansem... The leader of the bunch, he was. Didn't want nothing for the Alliance. Wanted all the power and glory for himself. He would never fall to such a greedy lot of people. Never. Or so he was convinced.
He was sitting at his desk, a steaming mug of coffee in his hands, his body tensed and waiting. The beings inside him quivered with anticipation, and he felt the stitches on the back of his neck stand up. He took a deep, shaky breath, setting the mug, which was now shaking in his hand, down on his desk, ignoring his lack of a coaster. Little things like mug rings didn't matter anymore. No,they didn't matter at all.
He was shuffling through the documents scattered messily about on his desk, trying to buy more time,when he burst through the door, amber eyes blazing with silent fury as he neglected to form a proper greeting.
"We grow weary of waiting, Oogie. I demand that your decision be announced," Ansem ordered, striding forward and slamming his fisted hand down on Oogie's desk to add emphasis. Oogie fidgeted with the strings on his neck. A part of him was completely outraged that his inferior would barge in his office like so, and another part, the larger one, was shaking with fear at the man's rage.
"I'm leader of this here Alliance, Ansem, and I-I'll make the decision when I'm r-ready," he stuttered, the small form of resolve he had gained shattering as he tried not to meet the furious man's eyes. Ansem was an intimidating figure, to say the least, with his crisp suit and tie, and perfectly shined shoes. Something Oogie himself would never posses, due to the fact that he resided in a sack of crawlers for the time being.
"Very well," Ansem said tightly, turning on his heel and slamming the door on his way out. Oogie placed his hand absently on his mug, the dark hollows that harbored his non-existent eyes widening with worry as he glanced back at the shut door. Wasn't any sense in stalling anymore.
Getting up quickly and tripping over his chair in the process, Oogie regained his composure, straightening quickly, looking around as if someone had witnessed the embarrassing moment. Dusting the front of his sack off, he opened the door tentatively, as if expecting Ansem and his group to be on the other side, waiting to strike, much like the disgusting snakes they were.
Seeing the hall empty of people, he took the single flight of stairs down to the underground passage, creeping along slowly, constantly glancing over his shoulder, his sack shaking with fear. He could hear the constant drip of water that fell from the drainage pipe above, hear his every footstep in the echoing silence.
Pushing the metal doors to the basement open, he hurried inside, not bothering to look back as the automatic door slammed shut behind him.
Silence was his best friend. That, and the skills he had gained over the years working in silence. Either way, with the two on his side, he was sure to succeed. Creeping along the winding tunnel, he stayed crouched low to the ground, his steps cautious and calculated. A mistake now could cost him his life and the secret he was indebted to keep. Neither seemed like an appealing option at the moment.
Stopping abruptly as the sound of a door opening and closing reverbrated off the bare, concrete walls of the tunnel, he glanced around sharply, his keen ears open for signs of life. He could hear shaky, harsh breathing and the occasional wimper, signaling the arrival of Oogie.
Studying the drainage pipe above him, he executed a high leap, grasping the pipe firmly and hoisting himself up. Careful to swing his sweeping cape over the pipe so it didn't hang down, he waited patiently, his arms shaking with the effort of holding his body weight up. When the sound of the sack's footsteps met his ears, he glanced down quickly, noting with asilent sighthat Oogie was taking his sweet time getting past him.
He didn't understand why he couldn't just do Oogie in as well. It would make his job much easier, and save him trouble later on, when he executed his escape. When Oogie's wimpers sounded far enough, he dropped silently to the ground. Sweeping his cape up, to keep it from dragging on the water puddles at his feet, he followed the Alliance leader noiselessly, sticking close to the walls, doubling back often when Oogie would stop to catch his breath.
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the sack's cowardly behavior. It amazed him as to how the useless pile of worms even made it to head of such a notorious Alliance, but he verbalized no complaints. An imcompetent leader meant a more incompetent Alliance, to which he definitely had no opposition. He despised the whole mess of Alliances, and their leaders especially.
Stopping abruptly when the sound of the metal door at the end of the tunnel met his sensitive ears, he looked behind him, assuring himself that he was not being followed.
Taking a running leap, he landed, once more, atop the drainage pipe, this time settling himself into a more comfortable situation. Knowing leaders and how important they liked to feel in certain meetings, he knew this would take quite a while, if not till nightfall, and he was prepared for a long wait.
Shaking his head as he situated himself back against the wall, he idly toyed with his cape, which lay in a pile in his lap. It surprised him how foolish power-seekers could be at times.
"Oogie, how nice of you to join us."
Oogie took a cautious step forward. Maleficent always unnerved him, and even more so in a confined room, such as the one they were all currently gathered in. It was something about the sinister, ever-calm tone of her voice that sent the creatures inside crawling up his neck.
Repressing a shudder, he moved to the head seat at the large, rectangular table. "Y-yeah, well, I came to my decision," he said nervously, seating himself heavily. The chair scooted back a bit at the hefty amount of weight it was now supporting, and Oogie ignored the smirk that settled onto Hook's face at the scraping noise.
"It's about time," Ursula said impatiently, one of her tentacles wrapping around the upper bar of her chair. Oogie gavethe appendage adistasteful look, lifting his chin slightly at the disdainful tone of voice she always used when adressing him.
"Well, don't take all day," Kuja said softly, his feminine voice carrying across the room. Oogie nodded his head vehemently, the creatures inside scattering with the motion. Taking a deep breath and swallowing loudly, Oogie opened his mouth to speak.
"Well, I think that, due to these here circumstances, that we should... Stick with what we originally planned. That way, we don't have to do no changes in staff or plans, and all that other stuff," Oogie said uncertainly, glancing around the table for their reactions.
"As I thought," Kuja muttered, sitting back in his chair, drawing his long, silver hair over one shoulder. The folds of his white sleeves gathered on the table in heap, obscuring his face from view when he turned his attention to Ansem, who faced Oogie across the far end of the table.
"Incompetent, as usual, Oogie," Ansem said, giving him a pitiful look as he stood abruptly from his chair. Oogie stood as well.
"Now, look here, Ansem! I'm the leader of this Alliance! And I say we stick with the plans!" Oogie protested heatedly, his sudden spurt of anger fueling his opposition to Ansem. He seemed shocked at such a defiant outburst, but he made no move to take his words back as he grasped the stitching on his wrist nervously.
"Yes, yes, yes," Ansem said dismissively, waving his hand in front of his face as if shooing a fly. "Your even more so incompetent plans of taking over the city and all of it's sectors. Tell me, Oogie, how do you plan to accomplish that?" Ansem asked snidely, a sneer forming on his lips as he strode confidently toward the Alliance leader.
"We'll do it!" Oogie said stubbornly, a hint of fear creeping into his voice as Ansem drew nearer. "And besides, you guys didn't have any objection when I offered it a few months ago!" he added, his hollowed brows drawing together as Ansem stopped dangerously close to him.
"You fool, Oogie. Did you think, even for a moment, that we supported such foolishness? To control the sectors would be a waste of time, considering the amount of competition. Gijitsu, Northside, Underground. Tell me, how do you plan to dominate Strife, T.G., and old Haschel? Surely you don't think a worthless being such as yourself posseses the skills?" Ansem asked, taking yet another step forward. Oogie retreated, stumbling over the curved leg of his chair, catching himself before he landed heavily against the seat.
"What are you saying, Ansem?" he asked, hysteria taking over as Ansem reached into the folds of his shirt. He withdrew what looked like a long, gleaming scalpel, brandishing it with a menacing smile.
"Don't be a fool, Oogie. Only a select few posses the knowledge to run a city, and you, fortunately, are not one of them. Your use for this Alliance is hereby terminated, Oogie Boogie," Ansem said, finality sounding in his voice as he moved closer, the tool in his hand drawing nearer to Oogie's chest.
"You can't kill me!" Oogie said desperately, scooting back across the chair, stumbling and landing with a heavy thud to the floor. "You, you can't!"
"I see no objections to such an act. Kuja? Maleficent?" Ansem asked, turning mockingly to the two mentioned. Maleficent gave a curt nod, returning her eyes to Oogie's trembling form. Kuja, however, in one fluid, graceful movement, rose from his chair and sauntered toward Oogie.
"I would like a front row seat when this is completed," he said simply, amajestic smilesettling on his face as he stood casually next to Ansem, who turned back to Oogie.
"You see, Oogie, your use for this Alliance has, indeed, been over-worked. You were a puppet, a toy, a cover-up of ignorance so that the truly skilled," Ansem threw a glance at Kuja and the others, "Could complete a task that no other has accomplished."
"But! But you said... You said that nobody could take over all the sectors!" Oogie objected, grasping the first reasonable subject that came to mind. The sharpened scalpel was moving closer to the stitches on his chest, and he could feel the creatures inside him swarming toward the spot, ready to escape should a hole be opened.
With one fierce lunge, Ansem pierced the front of Oogie's chest, grinning maliciously as the hole erupted with bugs and worms, crawling up, down, right, left, any way they could escape their confinement in the sack. Oogie winced, though he felt no pain.
"You-you can't!" he rasped, his voice going dry as Ansem slowly moved the blade higher, towards the stitches securing the sack to Oogie's neck. Oogie struggled violently against him, trying in vain to scoot back as Ursula's tentacles wrapped around his torso and arms, pinning him effortlessly to the ground.
"Yes, Oogie, I can," Ansem replied, hunkering down on his haunches. He moved the scalpel in an arch, approaching the first of the five stitches securing Oogie's sack. "You see," he said softly, slicing through the first. Oogie howled in pain, fighting Ursula's restraints as bugs encased his mouth and hollow, darkened eyes. "The time has come for those," Ansem continued, slicing through another stitch. Oogie struggled even more against the tentacles, feeling the weight normally adorning his chest deplete as his energy left him. "With true power, intelligence, and cunning to be rewarded. And you, Oogie," Ansem said, his voice barely above a whisper as he leaned in further, slitting all but the last stitch. "Don't belong to any."
Oogie's mouth opened to form a scream, but it faded before it began, the sack falling to the floor, empty of the creatures it once contained. The bugs and worms were everywhere, crawling over the floor, in and out of the holes adorning Oogie's empty frame as they scampered wildly about the room.
"Kuja, see to it that the rest of the Alliance be informed of the sudden change in leadership," Ansem said sarcastically. Kuja let out a dry chuckle, nodding his head silently as he made his way to the exit.
"As for the rest of you," Ansem announced, turning to face the others, who were waiting patiently, as if death were an every day occurence in their lives. "See to it that this mess be cleaned up. We have a city to dominate," he added, striding toward the exit. "I want to get started as soon as possible."
He waited patiently atop the pipe, hearing the enraged screams of the sack as his life was ended. A smile played at his lips. So it seemed the worthless sack was indeed taken care of. It would prove interesting as to who took over the Alliance. When the door opened and closed, he drew his knees tighter above the pipe, resting completely out of sight as the majestic form of Kuja disappeared down the tunnel.
Ansem soon followed him, stopping at the door, looking around suspiciously, as if his presence could be sensed. The man was reassured, however, that he was not. He was a master at stealth, and he was confident that he remained in the shadows. When the rest of the Devil's Anthem executives exited the room, he made sure to count, he hopped down from the pipe, withdrawing a small,silver pistol from the folds of his cape. Amazing how much technology had advanced since his youth.
Shooting the lock on the doors, he was rewarded when it sprang open, admitting him into the room. Striding past the chair knocked over at the head of the table, he stopped momentarily, pausing to study the prone form of the sack. It was completely empty, kicked to the side of the wall, next to the bookshelf that was his main purpose.
Stepping over the sack, he stopped once more in front of the bookcase. Running his fingers over the film of dust that had settled on the ancient writing, he scanned the spines of the books, stopping when he read the name of a certain, leatherbound collection.
Removing it from the bookcase, he dusted it off, coughing lightly at the thick cloud of smog now enveloping him. Moving back a few steps, he studied the book closely. All of this trouble just for a single book. Then again, it was very few who could have claimed to have snuck into the underground of Devil's Anthem headquarters. Tucking the book gently into the insides of his cape, he started toward the door, giving the pathetic sack one last look before making his way back down the tunnel. It would be quite a while until he arrived at his destination, and he did hope to make better time than he had planned, now that he was out of the underground.
Idly tapping his pen against the papers littered on his desk, Strife gazed openly out of the glass windows surrounding his office. When he had proposed the idea of starting his own Alliance to Tifa and Barret, paperwork had been far from his mind, and he was seriously starting to regret it.
Jumping slightly as the buzzer on his desk sounded, he turned sharply in his chair, clearing his throat before speaking. "Yes, Tifa?" he asked, listening closely as she announced that the messanger was here. "Send him in," he replied with a sigh, breaking the connection and turning back around in his chair.
When the doors to his office open, he felt a smile tug at his lips, and he couldn't help the amused chuckle that escaped him as he turned to face the man.
"So, Sephiroth, you seem to be getting quicker and quicker with these visits, don't you think?" Strife asked snidely, standing from his chair and striding around his desk to approach the hooded man.
Sephiroth lowered the hood of his cape, revealing a curtain of silver hair that surrounded his face. There were no signs of amusement on his face, though he did return the sardonic smile. "Your delivery," he stated, offering the book to Strife. He snatched it from Sephiroth's hands, turning dismissively, his eyes shining with approval as he read the title of the book.
"'Ancient Materia'?"
Strife stopped, his eyes narrowing as he rounded back on Sephiroth. "Took an interest, did we?" he asked, dropping the book on his desk and crossing his arms. "Don't go to getting any ideas, Sephiroth," Strife warned, leaning back casually against his desk as he eyes the silver-haired man.
Sephiroth's face remained impassive, though a flicker of light did pass over his eyes. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, out of habit rather than nerves, and regarded Strife coolly. "I do take interest when it could lead to certain jobs from my client," he said, the insinuation clear.
"I'm through with you," Strife said abruptly, dismissing the mercenary with a wave of his hand as he turned back to his desk and the book. "I'll be in contact should I need anything," he added, waiting for Sephiroth to take his leave.
"You are meddling with higher affairs than a puppet is intended to," the silver-haired man said softly, his green eyes narrowing with suspicion as he gazed coldly at Strife. "I will be waiting," he added, pausing momentarily before exiting Strife's office.
Letting out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding, Strife studied the door to his office. Averting his eyes, he picked up the book, blowing on it harshly to free the last remaining traces of dust from the cover. Though he was slightly angry at the term 'puppet', the book held a higher interest at the moment.
"Meteor," he murmured, scanning the first page. Perhaps he was meddling in affairs larger than intended. His eyes narrowed on the page. Certain affairs had to be meddled in, no matter what.
Ah! The first chapter! Which Tadpole has officialy finished editing at approximately 3:28 A.M. Read and review!