Disclaimer: No, sadly I do not own any of the FF7 characters. That honor belongs to Square Enix alone.
Summary: One day, I sat down and thought about it. How the heck did Vincent get stuck in a basement? Well, here is the answer. This is the story of why and how Vincent Valentine was captured, tortured with Mako energy, and put to sleep in a basement.
Note: This story takes place nine years before the events of Final Fantasy 7.
Chapter one: War Games
The grey sky looked down upon the rain-soaked earth, a gloom-filled canvass capping an oppressive day. It was fast approaching evening, and with the sun hidden behind the clouds, it might as well have been midnight. The air was warm and heavy, like a wet blanket. Clouds of humidity drifted from the wet grass.
Vincent pushed his damp hair out of his eyes. His back was beginning to ache, lying as he was, sprawled on the ground. Going home would be nice, as would taking a hot shower to wash off the mud. He couldn't leave though; the others were counting on him.
He double checked, for what must have been the tenth time that afternoon, that his gun was prepped and loaded. He didn't want to get a clear shot and then find himself with an ill-prepared weapon. He checked the setting, then settled back down, waiting for the signal.
The world was completely silent. It seemed that even the crickets had taken the day off, in anticipation of what was to come. A small wind stirred his hair and the pattering rain tickled his back. He scratched idelly at a misquito bite on his bare arm, waiting.
The signal came. Several meters ahead, what had looked like a clump of grass rose up on two feet and raised a hand. A small flash of light flared up, illuminating the surrounding area. Vincent leapt to his feet, a wild cry escaping his throat. All around him, similar lumps lying in the field rose to their feet.
As a group they ran, feet slapping the wet ground. From out of the rain, Vincent saw a flare identical to the one his companion had sent up. The enemy was moving.
As soon as he saw the figures from out of the gloom, Vincent stopped. Dropping to one knee, he raised his gun.
"Hit and run!" he yelled, squeezing off a round at the nearest enemy. There was a splatter of red, and the figure dropped on the spot, blond hair flopping in front of her face.
"Nice shot, Vince!" the boy next to him called as they retreated to the safety of a small copse. They could regroup there and plan their next move.
"How many did we lose?" Vincent asked as the group squatted on the ground.
"Only two. Bren and Liel." The boy reporting grinned. "We got four of theirs."
"Good," Vincent answered. He grimaced. He didn't like losing any of his people, it made him angry.
"Okay," he said, picking up a rotting stick, "We'll come at them from the back." He scratched a line in the dirt. "If we circle around through the trees, we can take them by surprise. We won't lose anyone, and we'll win this time."
A sandy-haired boy covered in mud shook his head, chuckling. "Calm down Vince, you can't concentrate when you freak out like this." Several of the others laughed with him. Vincent smiled himself. His friends often teased him for his calmness.
"Okay," he said, "Let's go!"
They moved quickly through the trees, though the little light they had was quickly decreasing. If they were going to win, they would have to do it quickly, before the night crept upon them. Vincent was working hard to stop himself breaking into a run. Secrecy was everything right now.
It was only a few minutes until he could make out the sound of low conversation. He held up a hand.
"If we circle around," a girl's voice was saying, "We can take them by surprise."
The sandy-haired boy and a blue-eyed girl sniggered slightly. Idiots, Vincent mouthed, Let's get ready.
Ready when you are, the blue-eyed girl whispered back.
"Now!" Vincent yelled. He leapt out from behind the trees, shooting the first thing that moved, a short boy, who obediently dropped on the spot.
Utter confusion ensued, as people of both sides ran wildly about the trees, taking shots wherever they could. Regardless of the fading light, it was easy to tell that Vincent's group was coming out on top.
Vincent stepped back a bit, trying to find his next target. He had just raised his gun to a pale, skinny girl, when he felt the cold touch of steel on the back of his neck.
"Very sloppy, Vincent, not like you at all."
The gun was held by a smirking blond girl. Even through the mud and rain it was easy to see her good looks. She looked completely capable of pulling that trigger.
"Scarlet," Vincent snapped, his heart sinking. He had lost, again.
Scarlet beamed, her finger flexing. Vincent closed his eyes, waiting for the impending impact. It didn't come. Scarlet was standing there, crimson splattered the side of her head. The sandy-haired boy stood beside her, gun still raised.
"Thanks, Gon," Vincent said, grinning.
He turned to the shocked girl. She was still standing upright.
"You lost, Scarlet. Fall."
Scarlet glanced up, gave him a glare, and dropped to her knees.
"Happy now? I know you like seeing me on my knees, Vince."
Vincent laughed, offering a hand. "You're not really my type, but you never know." Scarlet smiled through the fake blood splattered on her face.
Vincent turned to Gon. "Send up the flare. Let's bring everyone back to life and get back. I'm starved."
Gon raised his hand and shot out a blue light that matched his and Vincent's headbands. It exploded from the trees. There was a collective round of cheering and groaning to greet it. The blue-headbanded team ran up, slapping each other on the back and all talking together. More than half of them had the red paint covering some part of their body. The green team lurched up as well, grouping around Scarlet. Absolutely all of them had the paint on them.
"Good game," Vincent said, offering Scarlet a hand. She shook it with half a smile.
"Winners buy," she said.
They trooped back to Kalm village, wet, muddy, and happy. There game had taken over three hours, and night had now settled in. They went their separate ways at the entrance of the town, planning to meet at the pub in an hour, after getting cleaned up.
Every muscle in Vincent's body ached as he limped home. He couldn't believe it, the first charge he'd led, he'd won. It was such a good feeling. He was now undoubtedly one of the best gunners in the village. Who said you needed materia to be strong?
All over the Planet, people were getting the new procedure to adapt their bodies to accept a super-concentrated form of Mako energy. Materia could make you stronger, tougher, and faster, and it could also let you perform magic without any training. He had heard about it three years ago and being who he was, an ambitious fifteen year-old, he had wanted some of it himself.
His dream was to become a part of Soldier, the elite fighting force of the new Shinra Corporation. It was a company that promised to meet the Planet's increasing power needs. So far they had done a fine job, using reactors to create Mako energy. However, in order to try out for Soldier, you needed to be in Midgar City, and in order to get to out of Kalm and into Midgar you needed money, or at least a family that you didn't feel obligated to.
He did feel obligated to the parents that raised him, so joining Soldier was just a passing dream. It was for rich, important people, not him. He was doomed to live out his life in Kalm.