Tengoko: Sorry. I think this is the longest I've gone without updating. But, I've not only been editing one of my other stories, but I've also been working on my original novel. I've got a deadline to meet on it. But, I am far from abandoning this, or any other story. In fact, I have decided to make a series that revolves around Moving the Unmoveable. I'm calling them the Storm Series, and naturally, this is the second story in the series. Of course, it meant that I had to change a few things about this story, like the ending. But don't worry. You'll still get the tragedy that I promised. Heh. Heh. Oh, yeah. Please Read and Review. Thanks.

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy 7 is not my creation. I have the blood tests to prove it.
Rated M for language and romance

Chapter 13: Vow of Vengeance

Was this a dream? No. It couldn't be. He was aware of what was going on. Somehow, he was hovering between the boundaries of consciousness and unconsciousness. He could feel everything that was going on. Felt the straps around his wrists and ankles. He felt his back against the cold metal table. But, he couldn't see where he was. Every time he tried to open his eyes, it seemed as though they were weighed down.

"Your parents don't love you Wesley." It must have been the thirtieth time he'd heard it. The same voice. A woman's voice, droning endlessly.

That's a load of crap. His thought made him smile. They had to love him. If they didn't, they wouldn't have put up with have the stuff he tried to get away with. Only loving parents wouldn't have killed him by now.

"They don't want you."

Well, that could be true, but oh well. He smiled again. They're stuck with me now. And there's nothing they can do about it.

"They never wanted you."

That's a possibility. Though, I don't see it. When he was younger, Yuffie and Shera would tell him stories about how excited his parents were when they found out his mother was pregnant with him. They were, by the sounds of it, hopelessly in love, and they loved their unborn baby because it was made out of love. Never wanted him? Hell. They were overjoyed over him.

"They wish you were never born."

Liar. "Liar." Wesley shook from surprise. That was out loud. And the room went silent for the first time since he was brought to…well…wherever they brought him to. "AGH! SWEET MOTHER OF…"

"Language, my dear child."

Wesley's eyes had shot open with the crack of the whip. Immediately, they found his stomach where the thin leather had torn apart his skin. "You bastard!" he screamed, before realizing who he was screaming at. And then, their eyes met. Blue and green. And Wesley felt himself getting even madder. "Bastard! Let me go!"

"In time…perhaps." Gordon Manning hovered over him, the whip in hand, and he laid it across Wesley's stomach as if to taunt him. "How vexing," he said to himself. "It seems the specimen is immune to Hypnopaedia. Yes. Just as his father had become. Though, I doubt it is genetic. Quite extraordinary though. I'll look into it. Yes. Yes."

"You're insane!" Wesley screamed, thrashing about, trying to free himself.

Manning snapped out of his reflection, and smiled manically. "I know," he agreed. "It's a curse. I've been blessed with astonishing brainpower, but the negative aspect is a little mental instability. Nobody regrets that fact more than I do."

"Want to bet on that?" Wesley gritted. Manning laughed. "Who the hell are you and what do you want with me and my…my…" his voice trailed off and his eyes began darting around the room. "Where is she? Where's Lena Mae?"

Manning laughed again. "I was waiting for all three of those questions. Yes. But, I wasn't expecting you to ask them all at once, and not especially in that order." He stood up straighter and dragged the whip down slowly. "I am Gordon Manning. Though, you may refer to me as Dr. Manning. And, believe it or not, I used to work for President Shinra. Yes. Yes. I was one of the most brilliant minds he had. Right behind Gast and Hojo of course. But then, you'd have no idea who they are."

"I know of Professor Gast," Wesley said.

"Naturally. He was such a great scientist. Shame about his death."

"I don't give a damn about him. Where's Lena Mae?"

"Patience. Now, back to what I was saying…" he cleared his throat and then continued. "My job, so you know, was to research the human psyche, to push the boundaries to find out just how much the human body could take before succumbing to death. Pain, to put it in clearer terms. Yes. That was my job. And I loved it. I loved causing pain. Yes. Yes."

"That's sick," Wesley sneered.

"Maybe. But, that wasn't all. In addition to my study, I was also used to help Professor Hojo perfect the practice of Hypnopaedia. Sleep teaching. As you can tell, we haven't done so yet, or it would have worked on you. At any rate, you are the perfect subject. Yes. Yes. Strong minded. Perfect for my aim. For it to work on you, that would be a great success."

"It won't work on me, you asshole. I know better than to believe any of the tripe you keep trying to force feed me."

Manning laughed again. "In time. Only then will we know for certain. But, while we wait, I'm sure your sister will do just fine for me." He took in Wesley's horrified expression before stepping closer to him. "She's been responding admirably. Yes. Yes. It seems children are far more impressionable."

Wesley looked away from him. He'd failed her. He couldn't protect her, and she needed him. Now more than ever. But, there was nothing he could do. Not while he was strapped to the table. Feeling helpless, there was only one thing to do. He began to cry.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked.

"Because I have a score to settle with your father and mother. You know, your father was quite the specimen. He resisted sleep teaching as well. And in time, he rejected it all together. And the Jenova Cells. They never quite worked on him. Hojo had tried to make him a Sephiroth clone, but every time they injected him with the Jenova Cells…well…it's only a theory."

"What?"

"The only logical explanation is that, on the first injection, his body recognized the cell for what it was. An intruder. The other subjects hadn't. This is how your father was unique. The incubation for the Jenova Strand is about fourteen to eighteen days. In the others, it had taken over the body quite successfully. Our guess is, that they'd overcome the white blood cells and had mutated them, much like many other viruses will try to do. But, your father was exceptional. His body fought it. And his body prevailed."

"Of course it did. And you know why? Because my father is…"

"It's irrelevant. Your father was lucky. That was all. After being injected, after his body fought and killed the strand, like with most viruses, it developed an anti-body. So, the next time we injected him with Jenova Cells, he was immune."

"I've often heard my mother talk about Jenova with Yuffie," Wesley said quietly. "And Sephiroth. They said that you believed that she was some kind of Ancient, or god-like creature. And you injected her cells into all SOLDIERs. Does that mean that my father was in SOLDIER?"

"Did he not tell you?" Manning asked, a little astonished. "I'd have thought he'd be proud of those days. One of the youngest people ever to achieve the rank of first class. Yes. Yes. He was one of the best. Of course, he was no Sephiroth. Nobody could be like him."

"My father…was in SOLDIER?" Wesley said in awe.

"You might think him some kind of hero. Don't you? Then let me amend that. Your father, he's got quite a past. It's no secret. Except, maybe it is to you. And I wouldn't blame them for keeping it from you. It is such a dark past. So much death. Your father was a murderer, Wesley. Everybody hated him. Even your mother hated him. She even came close to killing him once. Yes. Yes. He'd been put in the hospital after coming to blows with her and her friends. I remember that. That was one of the most intense sessions of Hypnopaedia I'd ever performed."

"I don't believe you," Wesley shouted.

"You should. Quite a despicable man, your father. He even put some of my projects to shame. And, he was proud of it. Proud that he had killed. Proud that when people heard his name, they associated it with fear, death, and destruction. At Shin-Ra, the people called him the Red Death. He was that efficient. Yes. Yes. Quite the killing machine."

"No! My father is a good man! He's never killed anybody in his entire life."

Manning laughed, harder than ever. "They've kept so much from you."

"You know what? I don't care! I don't care about what he did! I don't care about anything except for one thing! My sister! Where is she, Dr. Manning?"

"She's safe," he answered shortly. "Of course, I couldn't put her in the same room as you. That'd give her comfort, and she needs to be afraid. That's the only way this will work."

"Damn it! She's only a child! She's only four years old! You can't do this to her! Just let her go! You can do anything you want with me, but please, please! I beg you! Just let her go…let her go." He'd never cried so much in his life. His cheeks were soaked with the salty tears that fell unceasingly from his blue eyes. He could barely breathe; he was trying so hard to keep from sobbing. But, the desperation was there, clear in his voice. And it brought a smile, a twisted smile to Manning's lips.

"I don't think I'll be doing that," he said. "But, how very sporting of you to make such a suggestion. Yes. Yes."

"I was giving you a chance," Wesley said. "Because, when my father gets his hands on you…"

"Yes. Yes. I know the cliché. He'll kill me and make me rue the day I was ever born. That's so boring."

"No. You're wrong. He'll let you live, Manning. But, he'll make sure that from the day he finds you, to the day you die, your life will be an utter hell. And I'll be there for it, Manning."

"Your father wouldn't do that. He's not like me. Or you, for that matter. He's merciful now. He'll let me die. In fact, he'll feel it to be karmic kind of thing. What goes around come around. I deserve to die. Yes. And he'll make sure that's exactly what happens."

"Well…in that case. I hope you live."

"Why's that?"

"So that, when I'm older, I can find you myself and make you suffer for all of this. I promise Manning, if you live to see the end of this, and I live to be an older man, I'll find you. So, you better be looking over your shoulder, Manning. Because I'm not as forgiving as my old man. I'm not as merciful. You'll suffer. And you'll suffer endlessly, and I won't let you die. I'll make you live each day in pain. And if you try to die, I'll bring you back, I'll revive you. And then, I'll torture you all over again."

"What an overactive sense of vengeance. It's not very healthy, you know?"

"It's all I have right now," Wesley bellowed.

"Well. We'll see. But, as it is. I hold the cards. The winning hand. Yes. Yes. Or have you forgotten? You are my new experiment. You and your sister. The Storms. I have reopened the project. The project on pain and sleep teaching. Project Manning."

Another crack split the silence, followed by an earsplitting cry. Wesley closed his eyes and clenched his mouth shut, bracing for the next whip, and then the next. His stomach was but a red, raw, and bleeding mass. It'd never be the same. He'd carry forever the scars of this affliction. But, inwardly, he was glad. Scar him. Scar him well, so in the future, when he looked upon those scars, he could remember exactly how he felt when he got them. And then, he'd know his purpose. To find Manning, and keep his promise.