Haunted

Thank you so much for all your lovely comments and things. Well, here's the next chapter.

Chapter Three: Piano

The plumber didn't turn out to be gay; at least, Cloud didn't think he was. He was cranky man called Cid who smelled like cigarettes and whisky, and who swore and ranted constantly about his stupid mistress, Shera.

"Yeah," he said, "you've got a rust problem in the water tank in your yard. It's used as a back up, but it seemed to have gotten into your central water system. I'll have to go out and fix the fucker up."

He wiped his dirty hands on a rag and turned to Cloud. "I don't usually do this as a living, by the way. I'm a rocket scientist."

Cloud raised an eyebrow. "In that case, could you have a look at our fuse box? The lights in this house have been flickering strangely."

Cid grimaced. "Yeah alright, but it'll cost ya." Then he muttered under his breath: "Dumb spiky-arse punk kid."

The next few days came and went in a torrid snow storm. The brothers managed to clean the whole house at least; Yazoo and Kadaj even put up new curtains and Christmas decorations. The tree was put up and decorated.

Cloud took Kadaj on a little road trip around the town and pointed out the house he had grown up in, as well as the other little nooks and crannies Cloud used to go to, and the bridge that had fallen. Cloud told him the story about Tifa hurting herself so badly she wouldn't wake up for a month.

"So let me get this straight," Kadaj had said, as they stared at the repaired bridge, "did you like it here or not?"

Cloud shrugged. "What does it matter? I like it here now."

Both Zack and Cid worked silently in the mansion. Cid did not want to talk to the strange brothers, and it seemed Zack avoided Cloud at all costs.

Both tradesman were finished and paid on the day before Christmas Eve.

That night Cloud dreamt, again.

In this dream he was walking to the back room in the East Wing. It was a small, unused office full of old stationary and books, and a strange door in the corner.

The man was sitting at the desk; his long draped over the chair and his eyes focused on the book he was reading.

Cloud slowly walked into the room and stared. He asked, "What are you reading?"

The man looked up and closed the book. He turned it so Cloud could see the front cover. It read: The Art of Memory Modification.

Cloud tilted his head. The soft, beautiful music from his last dream was playing. "This music... Is it your doing?"

He stared at Cloud with red eyes. "No, that's someone else."

Cloud woke up.

He then heard the music – it was soft, familiar melody that was being played someone else in the house. He got up and put his dressing gown on, then followed the music all the way up the stairs and to the West Wing.

Yazoo was sitting at the piano in one of the least used rooms. He was playing the tune, but stopped when he saw Cloud.

Cloud went over and sat on the long piano stool with him. "Don't you ever sleep?" asked Cloud.

"I can't sleep," said Yazoo, "because I dream too much."

"What do you dream about?"

The moonlight was coming in through the window, turning everything into shades of silver. Yazoo started needling the keys again to the tune of the Highwind theme song. "Tonight I dreamed about a winding staircase," he told Cloud. "The stairs were made of wood and much of it had collapsed. It was dark."

Cloud stared at him. "Where do the stairs lead to?"

Yazoo stopped playing, but didn't look at him. "I don't remember."

"You mean," said Cloud tentatively, "you don't remember your dream, or you don't remember...?"

"I remember the dream."

Cloud turned in his seat and faced Yazoo, looking at his brother with some alarm. "Yazoo," he said slowly, "have you been in this house before?"

Yazoo glanced at Cloud's lap, before finally moving his gaze up to Cloud's eyes. "Like I told you before, Brother," he murmured, "sometimes secrets need to stay buried."

Yazoo put his fingers on the keys again. "How about we play together, Brother, like we used to? We could play that song you taught me."

"Okay," said Cloud, turning in his seat to the piano and putting his fingers to the keys. "What was it called again?"

"Has it been that long? Well, I believe it's called 'Prelude'."

"Prelude..." Cloud murmured. "Prelude to what?"

"I don't know," said Yazoo. "Prelude to life, or death, or perhaps just a prelude to another song."

"Okay," said Cloud again. "You start."

Yazoo started the quick notes of the beginning of the song. Even with its simple start the notes seemed to pull sadness and despair from Cloud's soul, had him frozen in his seat waiting for a tear to drop.

Cloud got ready to come in to the song. He did at the right moment – his memory conjuring the notes and sending the message to his fingers. The piano was a difficult instrument to use for this song; with its long notes an organ would be better, although a piano had a beautiful sound to better create the heartbreaking song.

They played in tune and worked well together. They ended the song –

The piano lid burst open with a flurry of old dust.

It was almost like an explosion – one second Yazoo and Cloud were sitting at the piano, the next they were falling backwards as the stool toppled over.

The lay on their backs under the cloud of dust. Cloud heard Yazoo coughing and Cloud was gasping himself. He stared up as the dust cleared – there was something white, floating in the air above him.

He exhaled and his eyes widened. He reached up with an arm and caught the floating piece of paper from the air.

He sat up, holding the paper gently in his cupped hands.

Yazoo sat up too and looked at him. "What is it?"

Cloud unwrapped the folded, yellowed paper. It read:

"RIGHT 54 LEFT 34 RIGHT 46 RIGHT 32."

"It's a code," Cloud told Yazoo.

Yazoo leant into Cloud to read. He hummed.

Cloud suddenly jumped up and half-ran to the next room, Yazoo following. They stopped in front of the large black safe.

"I'm surprised Loz didn't blow it open with his gun when he had the chance," said Yazoo.

Cloud whipped his head around to stare at Yazoo. "Loz has a gun? I thought he got rid of it!"

Yazoo looked faintly alarmed. "He probably did. Who cares?"

"I care. Last time he used it he got arrested. And I don't want a gun in the same house as Kadaj," he added.

"Kadaj can look after himself," said Yazoo. He twirled a strand of silver hair around his finger and looked bored.

"Kadaj is sixteen," said Cloud angrily, "and he's my responsibility."

Yazoo clicked his tongue. "You think that code will open the safe?" he asked, blatantly changing the subject.

Cloud sighed and let it go. He placed his hand on the round lock. "Only one way to find out."

"Wait," said Yazoo. "Look, there's a timer on this thing. Give me the paper and I'll read the code to you."

Cloud obliged. Yazoo barked out the code as Cloud quickly turned the dial. The timer only gave Cloud twenty seconds and getting the right code was difficult; but together they managed it and once the code was in, the timer stopped.

Cloud reached for the handle and pulled the door open.

It was dark inside the safe. Cloud could practically smell the stale air that had been locked inside for so long. They peered inside.

"There's nothing in there," sneered Yazoo.

"There is," Cloud countered. He leaned forward and reached for the small black object on the bottom of the safe.

It was a key on a silver chain.

Yazoo pursed his lips. "So much for Kadaj's buried treasure. The key will probably lead to a box, which will have a key that will open a chest, which will have the co-ordinates to the piano."

Cloud slipped the chain over his head and around his neck. He hid the hanging key under his shirt.

Yazoo raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

center - - - /center

Christmas Eve. Cloud rubbed a hand through his hair and contemplated stuffing the turkey. He really didn't want to put his hand up there.

Loz walked into the kitchen and smacked Cloud on the bum. "You look cute in an apron, Brother."

"Touch my arse again and I'll kick yours," Cloud threatened. He put on long, plastic gloves, picked up the stuffing from the bowl, and shoved it into the turkey.

"Oohh," Loz moaned, "that's hot!"

Kadaj and Yazoo walked into the room. "What's hot?" asked Kadaj.

"Nothing," said Cloud.

Kadaj blew hair out of his face. "Okay I admit it: I'm bored. Somebody entertain me."

"Perhaps you could do some more cleaning," Cloud suggested, "or help me with dinner. Or you could catch up on some study – I heard you got a C on your History exam."

Kadaj made an angry, disbelieving noise. "You want me to do homework on Christmas Eve? Are you mad?"

Cloud pulled his arm out of the turkey's arse and turned to Loz. "Are you just going to stand there laughing, or are you going to give me a hand?"

This question only made Loz laugh harder.

"Fine, that's it," said Cloud tiredly. "Everyone out of the kitchen. Now."

"Be that way, then," Kadaj pouted. "C'mon, Yazoo, let's play Hide and Seek."

"How old are you again?" Yazoo murmured as he followed Kadaj out.

Cloud had finished cooking a few hours later. He had the turkey prepared for when it was to be cooked the next day, and he had that night's dinner on the stove to keep warm.

He found it both fascinating and irritating that when he didn't want his brothers around, there were there. However, when he needed them, they seemed to be no where in sight.

He went searching for them around the house. He finally found all three in the study from his dream. Loz had evidently found Hojo's secret liquor stash; he was leaning back in the desk chair. Kadaj was singing and dancing like a lunatic. Yazoo was sitting in a corner reading.

Cloud glared at Loz. "Did you give Kadaj alcohol?"

"Nope," said Loz, "that's the funniest bit!"

Kadaj crossed his arms and scowled at Cloud. "I told you I was bored!" He went over to the desk and laid down on it.

"Dinner's ready," said Cloud. Then his eye caught something on the bookshelf near Yazoo. "That's strange..." he whispered.

Yazoo looked up. "What is?"

Cloud walked over to the bookshelf and touched a book entitled The Art of Memory Modification. "This book is in the wrong place," he finally answered. There was a long series of encyclopaedia volumes all with brown leather covers. However, the misplaced book was hardback and blue, and in between Volume H to J and Volume K to L.

There was a sudden loud creak when the tried to pull the book off the shelf. The large door on the other side of the room had slid open.

All brothers straightened and stared.

"Man this place is weird," Kadaj commented.

Cloud walked forward and looked into the darkness, past the nearly opened door. "Oh..." he gasped.

"What is it?" Kadaj demanded as both Loz and Yazoo grabbed lanterns.

"A winding staircase," Cloud whispered, looking over his shoulder at Yazoo.

Yazoo said nothing, though he stared at Cloud. Cloud saw fear flicker in his eyes before he smoothed over his expression.

Wordlessly all four brothers grabbed a lantern each. The winding staircase seemed like a bottomless pit; the light of their lanterns would not reach the bottom.

Cloud stepped upon the first rickety, wooden stair. It was like descending into the bowel of a large monster – all terrible smell and darkness. Kadaj followed him and threaded his fingers with Cloud's. Yazoo followed Kadaj with Loz bringing up the rear.

"Did I ever tell any of you that I'm not big on adventures?" said Loz, his voice almost quavering. If Loz is fearful, thought Cloud, then there's no chance any of us can be brave.

"I love adventures," Kadaj retorted, ever confident.

They stepped down further into the darkness, until they could no longer see the light from the room above them. Kadaj's hand was sweaty yet cold; Cloud held on as best he could, even when he slipped, or his foot went through a floorboard.

They finally made it to the bottom, where the cave reached out into more darkness. The corridor seemed unmade, just a tunnel in rock, with litter on the edges: bones, bottles, cans of expired materials.

Kadaj broke the silence with a disgusted hum. The four brothers moved forward towards the door at the end of the corridor. When they got there, Cloud found a torch in the wall and lit it with a Fire spell. Once the torch flickered to life, its brothers around the room too lit up and the room was flooded with golden light.

They looked around and saw a science lab and library. It was their father's workroom.

Kadaj made another disgusted, distressed noise in the back of his throat.

"I agree," murmured Loz.

"Jesus," exclaimed Kadaj, "was someone actually in there?" He was looking to their right into the corner, where two glass human-sized test tubes stood, hooked up to several machines and unused monitors. One of the glass cylinders had been smashed, and the other had its door open. There were mako and blood stains all over the floor.

Cloud had a flash in his mind, suddenly – a quick pain that only lasted a second but managed to take his breath away. He shut his eyes and clutched his head.

Yazoo put a hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright?"

Cloud opened his eyes and saw that Kadaj and Loz had moved to the bookshelves and desks to the left. "No, I..." said Cloud. "Something about this place – "

"But I told you, didn't I?" interrupted Yazoo. His expression was sharp with growing anger but his voice was low and soft. "Some secrets need to stay buried."

"Yazoo," sighed Cloud, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"'He is the greatest assassin that ever lived'," Kadaj suddenly spoke up from the other side of the room. He was reading from a tattered leather-bound book. "'He could kill a man with one shot of his gun, or take off his head with one sweep of his claw. He was the best of the Turks and I made him better. He is the ultimate weapon, but he carries one weakness – "

"Kadaj, what the hell are you reading?" asked Loz, who was silently reading a book of his own.

"Father's diary," Kadaj answered blithely. "'His weakness,'" Kadaj continued, "'was founded by his heart's desire to love. He contained in his new, demon body the heart of a human unworthy. Under anaesthetic and other narcotics he confided in me the search for his 'light'. He said the Light would bring him ultimate freedom. This sounds similar to the Cetra's pilgrimage to the Promised Land - '"

"So that's what our father was doing," Loz murmured. "Instead of actually spending time with his children he was making up bogus theories about stupid legends like the Light and the Promised Land."

Yazoo walked past them to the corridor that led to more books and an office. He stopped at the mouth and looked over his shoulder at Loz. "He spent plenty of time with us."

"Yazoo," Loz snarled at him abruptly. Something was exchanged between them silently then, something Cloud could neither see nor hear. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Yazoo turned to him. "What's wrong with me? What's wrong with me?" Now Yazoo's voice was raised, which was rare for him. "I'll tell you what's wrong with me! I'm upset because you don't remember anything!" He stepped backward away from his brothers, and suddenly his voice was low and dangerous again, his mouth twisted into a smirk. "Neither of you remember Mother, either."

"I remember Mother," said Kadaj softly, hugging Hojo's diary to his chest. "She talks to me all the time."

"She does not, don't lie Kadaj!" Yazoo spat at him.

"She does so," said Kadaj miserably. "She tells me everything's going to be okay, and – "

"It's not real," said Yazoo, "that's not Mother talking to you; I'll prove it. Read that diary – the part about the Disaster from Heaven."

Cloud stepped forward then, because it looked as if Kadaj was about to cry. He had no idea what was going on at this point – their conversation seemed to dig so deep into their pasts that Cloud had no way to find them. "Yazoo," he said forcefully, "leave him alone."

Yazoo's eyes snapped to Cloud and widened as if he was surprised Cloud was still there. "Fuck off, Brother, you wouldn't understand because you're not like us."

Cloud clenched his jaw – that had stung. "Yazoo – "

"I SAID FUCK OFF!"

Cloud's breath was knocked out of him when it hit him in the chest – Yazoo had thrown a green Materia at him. Cloud staggered but didn't fall. The Materia hadn't hurt very much; it was more that Yazoo, his beautiful, sweet Yazoo, was pushing him away.

"Brother," commanded Loz, "you better go."

Cloud nodded and took one more look at a despaired Kadaj. "I'll be just outside the door."

He took a lantern and closed the heavy door behind him. Out in the corridor the air was cool and damp. Cloud wiped his eyes and found his cheeks were wet.

You wouldn't understand because you're not like us.

Cloud leaned against the wall and thought about the times when Yazoo and Kadaj had their secret conversations, when Kadaj would whisper in Loz's ear or when Loz would laugh at something Yazoo had said and Cloud had not understood any of it. The sad thing was - even though the three brothers had accepted him into his little group - Cloud wasn't really one of them. They proved it everyday by never actually saying his name to his face, it was always Brother this, Brother that.

The other three brothers even looked like each other. They each had tattoos on their left arms of numbers, a trait Cloud had never found out the origin of.

Cloud stood in the half-dark and rubbed the back of his neck. That's when he felt the thick silver chain still around his neck. A second later he realised he wasn't leaning against the rough stone of the corridor, but hard wood.

He lifted the lantern used it to help him examine the wood. Yes, he thought, it's not a wall – it's another door! And there was a keyhole in the side...

Cloud took the key from around his neck and pushed it into the hole.

The heavy door opened to darkness.

To be continued.