Dislaimer: I don't own any of the Final Fantasy characters, but I do own the characters of my own creation
Hey this is the story of Vincent's life. I will include all aspects including his childhood, teens, Turks, and on.
Hmmm I really edited this story. There were such glaring mistakes, that I had to majorly revise some parts. Well, anyways I hope it reads better than before, and that all you all enjoy this story
Well...read on!
Good feeling won't you stay with me, just a little longer?
It always seems like your leaving when I need you here,
just a little longer
Dear lady, there are so many things have come to fear
A little voice says I'm going crazy to see all my worlds disappear
Vague sketch of a fantasy,
Laughing at the sunrise like he's been up all night
Ooo slippin' and slidin' what a good time
But now have to find a bed that can take this pain
Violent Femmes, Good Feeling
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A single tear slipped down an unnaturally pale cheek, asa dark-haired man raised his pistol; mouth set, arm quivering.
"So it's come to this, Mr. Valentine?"
Vincent slowly moved his thumb to cock the trigger of the gun.
"Don't play stupid, you knew full well that I'd kill you for what you've done"
"Kill me? Of course, that's a Turks solution for everything. Simply not a logical bone in their body"
Blood red eyes hardened, glinting with hate. "Logical? You think what you did to her was logical? She trusted you, damn it! She would have done anything for you, and you… you fucking destroyed her!"
The other man grinned, revealing his mossy green teeth, " And what did you do to save her, Mr. Valentine? Nothing. You just sat there and watched as the one you loved was dying."
The Turk bit his lip so hard, blood dripped down his chin, mingling with his tears.
"One must destroy in order to progress. It's basic scientific fact, don't you agree Mr. Valentine?"
A scream ripped through Vincent's throat. A cry encompassing all of his pain, a cry filled with guilt
a cry brimming in loss
and pulled the trigger.
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25 Years Earlier:
Sherybine was a relatively small town. Unaffected by the discovery of Mako energy a few years back, the village was still rooted in its old fashioned ways.
Most of its inhabitants were families of bluebloods who had received their fortune from inheritance, rather than hard work. Each family clung to the other, and all of the citizens of Sherybine distrusted strangers and anyone who was not "respectable"
The town sprawled across the creatively dubbed "Sherybine Hill" and it was an unwritten fact that whomever lived at the highest point of the hill was the wealthiest,whereas thelower the altitude-- the less power and riches were in your grasp.
Every now and then a foolish family that didn't understand the code of Sherybine would build a house that was too high in comparison to their annual income and though they would not be moved out by force, were soon driven out by the by the politely cruel things the good folk of Sherybine would say to them.
All in all the majority of people in this modest little town were ignorant, prejudiced, and shallowly impressed by fortune and social status.
It was an overly clichéd dark and stormy night. Thunder clouds were gathering in the sky, and wept raindrops over the little town of Sherybine.
It was adoleful rendezvous, seeming as if the whole sky was mourning.Water spilled from the shingles and gutters and every crevasse of the city's dwellings, causing leaks in many of the roofs of the houses adjacent to the bottom of the hill and much annoyance to the higher up residents.
The 15th annual festival commemorating Sherybine's founder, Joseph Sherybine, had begun earlier that day and there was much exasperation from the upper class when the ceremony was unceremoniously interrupted by the rain.
All the party attendants ran inside the recently uninhabited Sherybine mansion, and swiftly resumed their merrymaking in comfort. Just as the festival was reaching its peak, there was a loud rapping on the front door.
One of the nobles waved for their servant to go and see who it was, yet halfway down the hall there was a loud "Slam!" as the door was thrown open.
The partygoers loudly uttered their protests and many rushed to the doorthen gasped at what they saw.
Before them was a soaking wet giant of a man accompaniedby a woman who was holding a small bundle.
The man was very broad, nearly taking up the whole hallway himself, and had small glinting eyes. His countenance was blank as he stood with his back ramrod straight in front of the company. It was obvious he had suffered some sort of military training, yet as imposing of a figure the man presented it paled in comparison to the one adjacent to him.
She was petite, had a perfect figure, and her face could only be described as perfect.
Her wide, green eyes wandered over the procession as her aristocratic white hands wringed the water out of her raven curls. She had deposited the bundle on a sofa by the door, and a glimpse of identical raven hair could be seen through the folds of the blanket.
The attendees were mesmerized as she stretched her milky, bare arms over her head, ruby lips slightly parted.
To all present, the woman gave the appearance of some incorruptible goddess in which all the light and beautiful things of the world gravitated to. Yet, sometimesbrilliance can blind you from the truth, and the brighter the light...the deeper the shadow.
She smiled, her green eyes sparkling and spoke.
"I am very sorry to intrude on your festivities, my friends, but you see my husband and I have been traveling many miles and we had no idea there would be a celebration afoot when we arrived at our new home."
The audience was so bewitched by the woman, that it took a few moments for them to understand her words' meaning.
"Your house?"
Cristal Auschwitz, the unofficial queen of Sherybine, stepped forward glaring jealously at the strange woman.
"I'm afraid, dear, that you are entirely mistaken . You see, the owners of this house passed away years ago, dahling." Cristal drawled, then turned fiercely glaring at her husband Christophe, who was openly gaping at the raven haired beauty.
"I understand your disbelief" the woman replied, smile unwavering, "But you see I had left the house before my father, August Ariface, regrettably passed away and I have all the necessary documents which prove undeniably I am the heir to this fine household."
The large man, whom still hadn't spoken a word, came forward pulling papers from deep in the recesses of his coat, and handed them to Christophe. As he was examining the documents Clara, a kindly housewife, asked what all their names were.
The woman stepped forward with panther-like grace and lightly placed her hand on Clara's.
"Of course! Where are my manners? My name is Eris." She nodded to the silent man next to her and said, "This is my husband, Kreut."
Then finally she pulled off her soaking wet coat and picked up the bundle off the coach and said, pulling away the corners of the blanket to reveal it's contents,"And this… is our child, Vincent Ariface."
Clara cooed with pleasure at the sight of such adorably plump cheeks, and pulled the boy into her arms."Vincent? My dear, what a wonderfully nice name!"
The boy was shaken awake by all the movement and opened his eyes gurgling happily.
" Why…" Clara gasped in shock " Why this little boy….. The little thing's eyes are so bright…they're…"
She stopped mid-sentence as Cristal stepped forward, frowning in disgust and proclaimed,
"They're red."
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Time passed quickly, as it often does, and after a series of arguments and mishaps Kreut and Eris for the past seven years have been comfortably residing in their new home. It was late in July, and a beautiful day when an eight year old boy woke from his slumber.
Vincent blinked sleep from his large, cherry red eyes and pushed himself out of bed. Running his little hands through shortly cropped black hair, the child sprinted from his room.
Passing walls and walls of expensive furnishings and ancient artifacts, he grabbed a croissant from a basket on the dining table as he flew by.
Today Vincent was very excited. Usually the people in town were mean to him and the other kids wouldn't play with him, but today was the day Jared Auschwitz had asked to meet him at the park! Jared was 13 years old and his parents had been especially cruel to Vincent, but the raven haired boy was so happy to finally have someone to play with he didn't care.
Vincent had a flashback of when he was five years old and he and his mom were walking through town together.
Even at that young age Vincent noticed that all the people stopped what they were doing when he and his mom walked by and stared at them, whispering. He looked up at his mom, who didn't seem to notice the attention, and smiled a brilliant smile, the type that you only see on a child's face.
He loved his mom more then anyone in the whole world. He believed she was a princess, the most beautiful girl in the whole entire world.
She was always smiling, always kind, and never ever mean to him. Unlike his dad, whom Vincent was very scared of. His dad never talked to him, and if Vincent was ever near he completely ignored his own son.
As they were walking, Cristal Auschwitz and her two children came toward them. She flipped her blond bob and smirked when she saw the pair, pulling her son and daughter close to her.
"Why, hello Eris, dahling."She called out, still smirking.
"Hello Cristal, how are you?" Eris replied, her grip on Vincent's hand tightening.
"Fine, fine all is going well! What a coincidence we bumped into each other! I was just telling my children how lucky they are to be born without any deformities, or anything of the sort. I mean, it would be simply dreadful for my little Lucrecia to be ostracized for being a freak of nature."
She put emphasis on those last words, staring directly at Vincent's glowing red eyes, then quickly said she was in SUCH a hurry and simply MUST be going. Cristal pulled Lucrecia, who was Vincent's age, even closer to herself and whispered audibly, "You saw his eyes? You shouldn't ever play with that boy. There's something terribly wrong with him. The devil's behind those ghastly eyes!"
As they walked away Vincent began to cry, comprehending to some extent that all the vehemence was directed toward him.
Making hushing noises, Eris lifted him up into milk white arms and gently kissed away his tears.
"You're my perfect little angel the way you are."She murmured; eyes glinted strangely,"You will always be my baby, and I will always take care of you. Those people will get what's coming to them for hurting you"
She placed Vincent back on the ground and grabbed his hand. The little boy could feel it shaking between his fingers. He looked up at his mom's face but her eyes were glazed over, staring out into empty space at some invisible entity.
"I don't know what I'd do if you ever left me, Vincent. Promise to never leave your mommy alone. Say you love me and promise."
"I love you mommy, and I promise"
"You know that once you make a promise you can never break it, right"
"I know"
She smiled, her pupils coming back into focus.
"Good."
Vincent's childhood memories were brought to a halt, as he himself was brought to a halt when he reached the park. While catching his breath, the little boy's blood red eyes glanced at his watch. It was 11 o' clock. Vincent sighed with relief. He had made it! Jared had told him to be at the park at 11:30, so Vincent sat on one of the swings to wait for him.
Threehours passed. The little boy's arms hung limp at his sides, and he leaned his head against the rope of the swing and cried.
Still crying, Vincent pulled himself up off the swing and began his walk home.
He passed by the Auschwitz's manor, and ducked behind a tree when he heard Jared's rough voice. Jared was walking with his friend Mitch and they were laughing about something. Vincent was just about to go to him and tell him that he forgot their plans when Jared turned to Mitch and said,
"Isn't that hilarious? I told that stupid freak I was going to hang out with him today! Like I would ever hang out with a weird, loser kid! He's probably still waiting for me now!"
He lauhged merrily, slapping Mitch on the back. Mitch chuckled tenatively, but didn't seem to find much humor in Jared's prank.
Vincent stood behind the tree his eyes open wide, filled with hurt.
Why was everyone so mean to him?
He had never done anything to deserve how they treated him!
Vincent dropped his head and whispered,"Why do they hate me?"
His sorrow quickly transformed into anger, and he sprang from behind the tree, tears streaming down his face. He shoved Jared in the back as hard as he could, and screamed as the boy whirled to face him,"How could do something like that?"
Jared scowled and swung his fist into the side of Vincent's head, knocking him to the ground.
"Don't touch me, I might catch your freak disease."
Vision swimming, Vincent's gingerly ran his finger through his dark hair where Jared had hit them, and gasped when they came back bloody.
"You're the freak!" He spat out blood, and continued filled with fury, "You have hurt me cause I'm different! Your stupid and…. and….an ass!"
It was the only bad word he knew, and Vincent rewarded himself with a triumphant smile when Jared's lips twisted with rage. He feigned retreat, running his hands through his long brown hair, but at the last minute swung around and threw himself on the small eight year old boy.
Jared sat on his skinny chest and proceeded to pummel him; pounding his fist over and over again into Vincent's pale face.
Blood flew everywhere as he swung again and again as hard as he could. He punctuated his punches with insults, and derogatory comments about Vincent's mother.
The little boy felt like he was dying.
With each hit he slipped further and further way from himself. He tried to call out, but his voice smothered as he swallowed his own blood.
Suddenly something snapped with in him. His red eyes burst open, glowing eerily in the light.
Vincent easily pushed Jared off and stood, gore sliding down his face. The much smaller boy grinned as he leapt onto the older one in a wild fury of movement. He punched, scratched, and bitJared until he was screaming out in agony and fell onto the grass.
Vincent stood up, then lifted his foot in the air and stomped on Jared's face repeatedly. Mitch tried in vain to pull the slender boy away, but Vincent flung teenager away from him with inhuman strength.
He looked back down at the bloody mess he had created. Adrenaline was pulsing through his veins, and he felt like he was caught in a red haze and not really in control of his own body.
Jared opened his terror-stricken eyes and gasped when he saw Vincent's. They were brimming with indescribable luminescence and his pupils had thinned into feral slits, seeming more animal than human. The broken bully began to sob and cried, "Please… Please…no more!"
The 8 year old boy blinked and suddenly revulsion overtook his countenance. He fell onto his hands and knees violently thowing up and screaming at the same time. Mitch took this opportunity to pull Jared onto his feet, and ran in the direction the Auschwitz manor, supporting his bloodied friend.
Vincent let them go, raggedly gasping for breath. He pushed himself back, sitting on his haunches, and looked at his hands. They were ivory stained red and he instantly wanted to throw up again.
"What have I done?"
Vincent sobbed, still staring at his hands, unable to avert his gaze.
"They were right to be afraid of me. I almost killed him. They were all right. Maybe the devil is behind my eyes. I'm a freak"
The sad and confused raven haired boy dragged himself away from the faux battlefield and sat with his back to a weeping willow tree, still staring at his bloodstained hands.
It get's more interesting later I swear. Be prepared there will be a lot of cameos and OC's in this story. But no Mary Sue's I swear, since I could never write a story like that about Vincent :P
Review my friends!