Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or locations, they belong to Squaresoft/Square-enix.

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Ok, major rewrite here… I'd looked back at this chapter when I went to write the fourth one, and found myself disgusted with it! I think it was putting a lot of people off reading the story as well, due to it's absolute lameness. Hopefully this is much better, and a little more engaging! Ps. To those who are following this story, ch4 will be up really soon! I promise! And It will have all my personal messages of thanks to reviewers that I don't have time to do right now!


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Diabolical possession - Locked in one's ego with one's sins.

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I. Waltzing with an invisible partner.


Is eternal life a gift or a curse?

Many wish for it, fantasise about it. Dream sweet and passionate dreams of it. Reaching to grasp it, they wither like thirst-ridden flowers, and fail in the sun's dying rays.

To him, an unquestionable curse. It was he who was damned to watch them, their mortality reflected in his blood-red eyes, as they hurriedly gasped their final breaths. But why was it he feared the deaths of his mortal companions, if it were indeed they who were the blessed ones?

Because you fear being alone.

And, the harder for him to accept; Because you love them.

He brushed these ideas aside temporarily to focus on his current situation. Moving through the darkness, his walking pace abruptly stopped. Without warning, he vaulted up the nearest tree with silent and graceful agility.

Again, his inner voice taunted him. Because you can never know life as they do.

He focused his attention on the band of four thuggish robbers that had followed him from Midgar, to the wooded outskirts where he now walked. He couldn't help but let the corners of his lips twitch into a smile at their feeble attempts to be silent enough to catch him by surprise. He could hear their every footfall, their every breath. And now he could hear them whispering to each other, asking where he had gone, and whether they should stab him and then take the money, or take the money and then stab him. Hopeless fools.

Because you are already in love.

He fingered the gun within his cloak lightly on instinct, but then decided against it. He had killed too many already. Perhaps a little enforced reform was more appropriate for the situation. They were now directly below him. He picked out the form of the nearest one, and leapt down onto him, forcing him to the ground. Vincent attempted to silence him with his hand, but a muffled cry escaped and alerted the others. The nearest one took a swing at him, knife in hand, shining in the moonlight, and succeeded in cutting his chest. Vincent grunted as blood seeped from the fresh, and thankfully, shallow wound. 'Getting sluggish, old man..' He smiled wryly to himself. Grabbing the man's knife hand, Vincent twisted it sharply enough to break it with a sickening snap, causing the second thug to drop the blade, screeching wildly. Aware that the two remaining thugs were at least a few seconds away from him, Vincent took the opportunity to smash his gleaming claw into the second thug's side if the head, knocking him out, before reaching for the fallen knife with his other hand.

Seeing this, the first man, still winded from being jumped on cried out loudly- shrill and full of venom, first directing his vehemence at Vincent, then his fellow muggers-

"..the fuck? You some kind of freakin' monster! He's got a fucking claw!"

Vincent grasped the knife subtly and made an almost scientific incision in the left thigh muscle of the fallen man, in such a way that he would have a permanent limp.

Because although your body has changed, you still feel human inside.

"Silence!" he roared, more to his inner voices than the bleeding thug. Turning to deliver the same incision to the man who originally had the knife, Vincent's ears pricked at a sound he knew well, the sound of a gun being loaded with bullets. He spun around, his only thought to tackle the gunner to the ground before he finished loading his gun. Legs straining, eyes narrowed, Vincent charged at the gunman, feet pounding on the forest floor more swiftly than the throbbing beat of his heart in his ears. Reaching him, he tackled him to the floor whilst pushing his gun-hand to the side using his claw-hand. They hit the ground, Vincent on top, with a nauseating thud. Raising his claw into the air in preparation to knock this man out too, Vincent was interrupted by a blinding pain in his side. Biting his thin lower lip to keep from crying out, he cursed himself. There were four men, you idiot. Ignoring the knife that was now lodged in his side, Vincent turned to face his final assailant, whose wide eyes filled with fear as they met Vincent's blood red ones. Vincent dealt him the same injury as the others-that they would all walk with a limp for the rest of their miserable lives, which he hoped would prevent them from attempting to rob further unfortunates. That is, if they didn't bleed to death before the wounds healed. Pocketing the thug's gun, he decided he'd better do something about the knife in his side. Gritting his teeth, he watched with a kind of sick fascination as he pulled it from his side, and the bleeding subsided his wound began to heal.

He was going to visit Tifa (one of the few members of avalanche, along with Red, who he had found an understanding with), in Cosmo Canyon. To check up on her without her knowledge. He didn't want to involve himself in her life, or, as he suspected it would be, Cloud and Tifa's life.

Because you love her.

He slammed his claw into a nearby tree.

You are a prisoner in this body. Condemned to live in it forever.

Unseen, mingling with the darkness, he continued on.


Rufus Shinra's eyes flitted from his documents to the clock on the clinically white wall of his office. Eleven and a half minutes past twelve. Everything should be done by now. His plan should be in motion. His focus returned to his documents as his fluent mind calculated various possibilities, but his attention was again re-directed when his PHS rang shrilly. Reno. It could only be bad news.

"Reno?"

"Sir! Hey, I was thinking.."

"Reno!" Rufus cut in. "your report is late. I wouldn't make it any later with small talk if I were you."

"But sir!" Reno protested, in a mock hurt tone. "Have you noticed what a beautiful night it is? Perfect for enticing the ladies. Once, I…"

"-Cut the crap Reno. Report. Now."

Reno, having had his 'play dumb' act cut short, allowed the slightest bit sardonic character to creep into his voice.

"I'm gonna be honest with you, sir. Having searched for a while… we have no idea where Strife is. He's practically dropped of the face of the planet. We found all his other Avalanche buddies, but they're pretty much clueless.."

Rufus cut him short. "As I suspected. I need Cloud, whatever the cost. Execute plan B."

"…Plan B, sir?"

Reno didn't know why he played this game with the president. But, he may as well play up to the president's low expectations of him. That, and that he enjoyed seeing how far he could push people, especially those in positions of authority. Like Rufus Shinra, his brat of a benefactor. It gave him enormous satisfaction and a sense of well-being. As much as he was ever likely to have in his line of work, anyway.

Rufus was loosing his patience.

"Plan B, Reno. It's not complicated. I'm sure you know perfectly well what I mean."

"But Sir, I don't…" Reno heard a soft click, followed by the dial tone.

"..Bastard.." he thought. "I always push too far.."


Love is a terrible thing. How can it not end in loneliness?

She sat in an agile position, perched on the windowsill, book in hands. The beauty of Cosmo canyon, she thought. No shortage of books. Books about history, and about the stars. Her eyes scanned the page, but her mind would not register the information. Sighing, she closed her eyes and gave in to her wandering thoughts.

"I suppose you want to start a new bar, huh?"

This went to show how much they knew her after nearing death together- in short, not at all. The bar had been necessary to early Avalanche's cover, a decoy. She had hated every minute of being in the slums. Surely Barret, who had been there with her, knew that. Obviously not, as it was he who had asked the question. Few had come close to understanding her. Nanaki, perhaps, and Aeris… before she had died.

With Vincent, she had reached the greatest silent understanding that she had ever had with anyone, or believed that she could ever possibly have. But he was nowhere to be found, and as she saw it, disinterested.

And Cloud… she really had no idea what he thought of her, now, only what he had thought as a child. His absence pretty much told her everything. He could be here with her, but he wasn't. No-one knew where he was. Also, disinterested. So she had returned to Cosmo canyon with Nanaki, to stargaze; the only thing she felt she could actually cope with.

Where are you?

She dropped her book, and, covering her face with her hands, lowered her head to her knees. And it was at this moment that someone knocked on the window behind her.


He remembered watching her die, feeling the guilt crash over him in waves, seeping into his every pore. He thought that in time, his guilt might fade. But it fed into him like a highly pressured drip, compounding itself with grief, drenching him. And now, he thought that he was drowning in it.

He guiltily noted that what hurt most of all, however, was that there was no-one there to help him. She, – Tifa, - had left him alone after meteor. Not that he'd said anything about it. Not that he'd mentioned how he felt. If she had any interest in him at all, she would have stayed with him, right? She would have asked where he was heading before she made her decision. He would just have let her down; it wasn't as though she needed to be around someone as messed up as him right now. But he didn't understand why, after all that time standing by him, she had just left like that.

He envisioned Tifa's voluptuous body. He had wanted so much to take things further with her… but how could he enjoy himself, engage in carnal acts, as if everything were fine, when he had let Aeris die? How could he pretend that it hadn't happened, and have a pleasurable life?

So here he sat in the Shinra mansion basement, without purpose. No more world to save. Not there for any reason, apart from that no-one else went in there. He had more time, to think.

A walking contradiction, longing for help, yet shutting himself away.


Is this any better? Please R/R xx