Sadistic Tendencies

By: Fantasie in D Minor

Disclaimer: I do not own FFVII or any of the sequels/prequels. The dreadfully long descriptions, however, are mine

Summary: Reno hated the rookie. It was a principle of honor; he would not be substituted by a woman. Tseng should understand that, right?... Too bad mother luck was never very gentle with the red-head.

&&&

He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster. And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.

Friedrich Nietzsche

&&&

The Swallowed Echo

Reno's lethargic walking towards the ShinRa Headquarters was rather rudely interrupted when his feet hit the elevated pavement in front of the entrance. Before he could take another step, a cheerily smiling face popped into his line of vision… a cheerily smiling face of the 'stick-up-her-ass blondie' (nickname courtesy of Reno).

"You must be Reno." The red-head had to resist the urge to wince at the high-pitched salute. "I'm Elena. It's a pleasure to meet you." The blonde woman stretched out her hand; the smile not faltering despite Reno's blatantly less than sociable expression. As much as the young man would like to ignore her, the common laws of courtesy pushed his otherwise immobile hand to shake Elena's outstretched one.

"I know." He said cockily, briskly withdrawing his hand back to the safety of his pocket. The young woman ignored the impolite comment, and plunged into another—what was soon to be failed—attempt at making conversation.

"Tseng had nothing but the most wonderful things to say about you." 'Tseng said you're a slob and an insubordinate employee, but I'm going to turn everything into a compliment because you're of higher rank.' Reno translated the sentence for himself. He demonstratively checked his watch and continued unhurriedly moving towards the entrance.

"I'm sure." Reno made certain to sound unconvinced. When the red-head was allowed to enter the accursed building with no further interruptions, he was sure that the woman gave up on trying to 'make friends' with him. He paused a few steps into the lobby and dug around in his pocket before withdrawing his beloved cigarette pack. Making sure to light the cancer stick right in front of the 'NO SMOKING' sign, he went on towards the elevators. A few rushed employees stopped to give the young man a disapproving speech, but after realizing that the young man in question was Reno, quickly decided against it.

With a satisfied grin, due to the tremendously merry event of getting rid of the blondie, Reno hobbled into the elevator and pressed the 66th floor button. One can only imagine his surprise, and utter disappointment, when a feminine hand shot in between the closing elevator doors and with a beep the said doors flew open to reveal the 'kiss-ass rookie'(another nickname courtesy of Reno) herself.

"The building is a non-smoking zone." She informed him matter-of-factly, leaning her back onto one of the glass walls. Reno's eyebrow started twitching involuntarily in a nervous manner. 'She has no idea who she's talking to.'

"Your point being?" He inquired nonchalantly, taking another drag from his cigarette. Elena's calm examination of her nails ceased abruptly, and she gave the Turk a rather dumbfounded look.

"You're not allowed to smoke inside this building." Reno inhaled another dose of nicotine and exhaled the smoke into Elena's stern face.

"Who says?" The blonde coughed lightly, covering her mouth with her left hand.

"The rules!" She chocked out, an indignant expression starting to settle over her features.

"Duh, the rules." Reno rolled his eyes heavenwards and let an infuriating smirk slide onto his lips. "Who says the rules apply to me?" Elena's retort froze on the tip of her tongue. The two suit-clad figures stared at each other until the both of them heard a beep, signaling their arrival on the 66th floor. Pulling herself into a rigid posture and straightening out her already impeccably straight jacket, Elena threw her nose in the air and marched out of the elevator.

Reno was left to hobble out after her with his unwavering smirk engraved firmly into his flawless features. What could he say? Getting on people's nerves was what he did best. There was a reason Tseng always called the red-head a sadist…a very good reason.

&&&

Let us leave the confines of the ShinRa building for just a moment and transfer to a place that's a bit darker. Of course, it is rather debatable whether or not there could be a place darker than ShinRa, but for imagination's sake let's imagine. Picture a dark alleyway stretching the distance of 500 feet with exactly two streetlights standing on each end. One marks the opening and the second marks the closing. Now distort the straight line of the alley until it looks like a maze. Make sure to make it a very complicated one…complicated enough to get lost in easily.

Please, visualize a person running through the aforementioned maze. The person is a male of about 25 with jet black hair and grey eyes. He is desperately trying to find the exit or the entrance; he doesn't care which one by this point. He turns left, right, left, left, and runs into yet another dead end. He's sick and tired of this mouse trap. He starts hitting the wall, which prevents his escape, with his bare palms covering the flesh of his hands with crimson liquid. His hands are bleeding, his leg is bleeding from a previous injury, and there are lacerations and bruises all over his body and face.

He screams something, but the pocket of buildings swallows the sound, not allowing so much as an echo to escape. He starts running again…right, right, right, left, and another dead end. His breathing is labored, and his eyes are staring to shine with the moist sparkle of tears. He's going left, left, left, left, right, and then he sees it…his sanctuary. He sees the one object he's been looking for, for the past five hours. With renewed vigor and the will to survive he makes one last mad dash for the streetlight at the end of the alley. Six more feet, five more feet, just a few more steps and he'll be able to forget this night ever occurred.

Fate, however, is a cruel hag. One thin, crimson line of blood trails out of his mouth and down his chin. He drops to his knees and within another moment plummets face first into the hard concrete, dead. The pocket of skyscrapers swallowed yet another sound…a gun shot.

TBC

Author's Note: Thank you for reading and I hope you've enjoyed this chapter. Sorry if this is still a bit short. I'm trying to get most of the introductory stuff out there so we can move on to the more interesting events in the story.