Alright... I don't own Final Fantasy... Or Vincent Valentine (As much as I wish I did... I would make him a slave... winks to all who know what I mean) I forgot to do the disclaimer in the previous chapter. R&R please. Thanks.

The Forsaken Munky


Experiment number six hundred sixty-seven. Age Five.
After I was born, I remember being transferred to a large mansion with the doctor and a few assistants. I was the only project that was taken and continued on, though I wasn't paid much attention. Doctor Hojo spoke about a new project that he was working on with one of his assistants. The doctor, I believe, was truly crazy. He planned to conduct experiments on the assistant's unborn child. If I can recall correctly, the assistant's name was Lucrecia. She was with-child and she actually agreed to the mad scientist's plans. I felt sorry for the unborn child.

Even though I had never really experienced the outside world, Hojo let me read the books from the basement library. I read thousands and thousands of books. I learned morals from most of these, but I also learned that science was important as well. That's when I learned my importance and the importance of that child. Yet, something deep down inside of me, even at the age of five years old, told me that what Doctor Hojo was doing was wrong.

I remember a young man, I think his name was Vincent Valentine. He came by the mansion a lot, checking in on Hojo's work. When he came, he would not only make out reports on Hojo's new project, but he would also come and spend a little bit of time with me. He would pretend that I was important and write reports on me as well. Yet, I knew for a fact that he was really there to keep an eye out for the more important project.

I was very smart for a child my age. Of course, who wouldn't be after reading mountains of books? Mr. Valentine complimented me on that. He said that I would make a great scientist when I got older, but I told him otherwise. I told him that because I had the feeling that I would never amount to anything at all.

One time, I told Mr. Valentine about the monster inside of me. I told him how it was sleeping and how it would eventually destroy me. He commented on that with very solemn words. He told me that everything would be fine in the end. In a way, I believed him, and then again, I didn't. Something in my five-year-old mind told me that I wouldn't survive to be even ten years of age.

Mr. Valentine and I were very close, or in my opinion, I thought we were. I really liked him. The young man told me about the world outside of ShinRa Headquarters and the ShinRa Mansion. He told me about the snowy fields of the lands to the north and oriental people to the east. I laughed at some of the stories he told. He loved the way I giggled. He would tell me that a lot.

I could remember Mr. Valentine telling me a secret. He told me that he was in love with Doctor Hojo's assistant and wife, Lucrecia. I had not known that Miss Lucrecia was actually married to Hojo. Was she insane? No, only "madly" in love with him, I had been told.

I heard rumors that Hojo's wife and assistant, Lucrecia died giving birth to a baby boy. If I remember correctly, his name was Sephiroth. I can recall being excited about the child, but I then remembered that we both were only mere science projects for ShinRa Inc. and its mad scientist Hojo.

Something very frightening happened in the very last days of my stay at the mansion. A violent argument took place between Vincent Valentine and Doctor Hojo and I had to sneak about to see what they were fighting about. I was afraid for Mr. Valentine. He was such a good man. He had strong morals and tried to stick to them as best as he could. The night it happened, an action uncalled for occurred, and it nearly made my heart stop.

A gunshot was fired. At that moment, I knew my life would be changed forever. I remember it being deafeningly quiet afterwards. Seeing Hojo lay the body of my only friend on the operating table, I watched in horror as he did a dirty deed. During this postmortem operation, I had let a tiny sound emit from my throat, catching the attention of the doctor. I knew this because I remember seeing Hojo looking around the room to see if anyone had witnessed his crime. He stared my way for quite a few moments before turning away, going back to work. I watched that mad scientist in anger and sadness. Hojo had taken away the only friend I truly had without knowing it. Of course, I don't think he would have even cared.

I turned tail and ran from that place. I returned to the room I was assigned and sat there in silence and deep shock. I heard the new born child cry, but I shut out the sound. I knew that I had watched too long, for the scene was now burned into my memory forever. It would haunt me like a video clip taken from a movie that continuously played, over and over again.

Miss Lucrecia was also a true loss to me. She had also been very kind, not as much as Mr. Valentine, but still very kind. I mourned the death of them both, but quickly straightened up when Hojo was around.

It wasn't very long after Vincent and Lucrecia's deaths, not long at all, when Hojo, the new born, and I left the mansion. I wanted ever so badly to stay with my one and only friend, but I was just a mere pawn, nothing more, having no rights at all. That fact was drilled into my head over and over again. I had not cared he was dead, I only wanted to reassure myself everything was fine. Even if that was a lie.

I hated life when Hojo and I returned to ShinRa Headquarters. Every freedom that I had experienced and known at the mansion was stripped from me and I was thrown into a holding cell. Eventually, I found out that I was a project put on hold. I was put on hold because the mad scientist had made Sephiroth his main priority at the time.

In my miserable holding cell, I was given only one privilege. I could read books. Yet, reading wasn't much of anything at all, once I think about it. I was a five-year-old who could read a one thousand page book in a single day. Some books I read more than once, perhaps a hundred times. I didn't miss the freedoms the mansion had given me. None of them. Yet, what I really missed, or more like who, was Vincent Valentine. I was constantly haunted by the sight of his murder. I would awake from nightmares that had a connection with his death.