Woot, chapter two! I'm excited. nodnod. I'd like to reiterate one thing: This story takes place in an sort of alternate universe, because anyone who saw Advent Children knows what happened to Kadaj at the end. But here he is. I know it's not exactly how things are supposed to be, but I'm trying to be creative, mkay? I have explanations for everything, if not now, then in later chapters. Please R&R. .
Chapter Two
The courtyard was beautiful. It was within the mountain, but Shinra had drilled a large hole through all the rock and dirt to let in the sunlight and fresh air. Large patches of roses were being cultivated in uplifted circles of marble and large fountains, in the shape of enticing sirens, dotted the grassy opening. There was a path, made of marble bricks, that wound through the courtyard. It cut through the grass, around the circles of roses, and past the fountains with water cascading past the soft, white lips of the sirens. It started and ended at the door leading to the ward, where two, tall guards stood, hands loosely holding their rifles. A butterfly or two fluttered across the yard, visiting roses and even the few tulips that were being grown to gather its much needed nectar. They had beautiful red wings, as thin and delicate as silk, with specks of black dotting their gossamer surface. Their long, graceful antennas flickered from side to side as they soared from one open blossom to another. Sometimes a small hummingbird dove down the long tunnel that cut through the mountain to reach the luscious, sweet nectar that the flowers harbored. But those were very rare.
Kadaj lifted his eyes from the book he was reading and watched the butterfly as it journeyed across the open courtyard. His brow furrowed and he returned to his reading. Ironic enough, it was a romance. Although he wasn't much for romances, he had practically exhausted his selection of reading material. Shinra was extremely particular about what he had access to. Anything that was overly violent, aggressive, or imparted any sort of battle knowledge were strictly forbidden. He was able to access some romances, satires, poetry, and a bit of basic history about Shinra or the planet itself. It was a very queer sort of thing, but Kadaj didn't object. He was simply very glad to be able to access anything to read at all. Oh, and he was glad to be in the courtyard. He glanced up and watched a stray cloud float over the opening in the mountain. It was then that a curious idea came to him.
Dismissing it, he returned to his reading. It distracted his mind so that he didn't have time to think about the dreams that were gradually fading from him. Maybe it was just him being insane and now that they were cutting down on his treatments and he wasn't so violent and . . . but he stopped at that thought. The treatments were supposed to make him better. Make him . . . do something. He didn't know what those mako treatments were supposed to make him do. The doctor said that they were supposed to keep him calm and make him feel better and all these other complicated things. But that voice, that persuasive, silky voice kept telling him otherwise. Sometimes, he didn't know who to believe. It was all so very difficult to comprehend. But the voice inside him knew what it was talking about, though, right? I mean, it had to know what was going on, because, obviously, he didn't understand a thing. He wasn't even sure why he was insane in the first place, or even why they were treating him or what they were treating him for. His 'alter ego' had to know. It had to. But ever since the treatments had been cut down, it remained dormant. And Kadaj felt empty again. Deserted, almost.
His eyes flickered over a love scene between two characters in the book before snapping it shut. He already knew how it was going to end. Eventually, the woman's cruel husband would find out about her affair and the lover would either be chased off or killed and it would have a rather tragic ending. Kadaj scoffed. Each and every trashy romance was just like every other of its kind. Folding his arms across his chest, Kadaj leaned back in the chair that was positioned right in the sunlight and he watched the clouds float over the mountain opening. The edges of the opening were jagged from the drill, as the opening was so high up that no one could simply climb up the edges. Kadaj glanced over to the door leading to the ward, and the two guards were still there. If he wanted to escape, he'd have to make a break for it between their shifts. But he had never seen them switch shifts while he was there. Maybe it was because they were still weary of what he was hiding. What was he hiding anyways? He let out an exasperated huff and leaned back in the chair. He just wanted to get out of here and back into the real world. What was the real world even like? His brow furrowed in frustration. There were so many questions that were left unanswered and so many things that he longed to know but may never know. He wanted to talk to his doctor about getting out of the ward. Better yet, why even talk to her? Even without the voice coaxing him to not to throw temper tantrums and to not bother asking questions that would have lies as answers, he knew that she was lying to him and concealing things from him. Well, that just meant that he would have to find some things out for himself. That large manila folder must contain something of value. If only he could get his hands on it…
As he contemplated the complexity of getting out of his cell, strolling past a plethora of patrolling guards, and then stealing the manila folder to flip through at his leisure, a pair of guards strolled up to him. Their grip on their rifles tightened a bit, as though they still expected trouble from him. Hadn't he been docile long enough for them to be persuaded that he was no longer at threat? Seriously, it was really starting to get on his nerves how everyone was so tense around him. He frowned a bit. Kadaj was really starting to hate being here. First it was a straight jacket, padded cell, ESTs . . . mako treatments. Nibelheim. The mansion . . . Jenova . . . mako mako mako. All the mako, the beautiful sea green life stream . . . mako, the treatments . . . Jenova. Mako mako mako . . . silver . . . the children . . . the Geostigma. Sephiroth . . .
One of the guards hit him in his face with the butt of his rifle, "Didn't you hear me, you piece of shit? I said it's time to go."
Kadaj snapped up, blood trickling down the side of his face, and glared at the guard, his eyes flaring green, "What'd you say?" He suddenly rose and turned to face the guard. His silver hair fluttered in the breeze and sticking to the patch of blood on his cheek as they engaged in a stare down. An uncontrollable rage was coursing through his blood. Something was happening to him. He wanted to back down, but he couldn't. A part of him wouldn't let him walk away from what had just happened. The guards, they grinned at him maliciously, knowing that they were provoking him into attacking them. He clenched his fists and mumbled, "One, two, three, four, five, one, two, three . . ." It was just darkness then.
"Let me out of here!" He cried, throwing himself against the padded walls. "Fucking pieces of . . . arrrgh!" Kadaj slammed his head against the wall over and over and over again until he had a headache. Burning hot tears of rage and frustration streamed down his pale face and he just leaned his head against the soft wall. "Didn't do anything . . . it was just dark . . . so dark . . . and cold . . . cold like . . . like . . . ice... yea, ice… like his stare . . . Jenova! Jenooova!" he screeched, his fingernails clawing furiously at the clothing binding his wrists together. "Mother, mother . . . please . . . free me . . . mother . . ."
He laid on his back and stared at the flickering light. It hummed incessantly throughout the rest of the day, and was finally killed by the time lights-out time came at eight in the evening. It was just him and the cold darkness then. The rest of the prisoners had given up trying to tell him to shut up and went to bed. Kadaj just laid in his corner, frightened and unsure of what was happening. They called him crazy, everyone did, but he didn't think so. It had to be a lie. It had to be another lie, a deception, like his short lived freedom with his books and romances and his second visit to the courtyard. What did they want from him? What more could they take besides his freedom, his life? They had stolen everything from him, even his memory and identity. Was he really this Kadaj? The doctor gave him a number, Number 547. But that voice in his head, the one that had stopped talking to him ever since the mako treatments were reduced, called him Kadaj. He called himself Kadaj too, now, because of that voice. Was that his real name or just . . .?
The section of the mountain that was cut away . . . that had to be his way of escape. The front was too populated with staff and armed guards. He wouldn't make it over the iron fence or through . . . through . . . what the hell was out there anyways? For all he knew, it could be a large city belonging to Shinra or worse . . . a desert. He could escape and there wouldn't be anywhere to run to. Not like he had anywhere to go anyways. For all he knew, he had no family, no home, nothing. Not even friends.
God damnit! He thought, banging his head against the floor. If only there was a way . . . a way to at least see what is out there without actually going there. Over and over, he slammed his head against the floor, trying to devise a way of escape. The manila folder meant nothing to him now. It didn't matter whether or not he was an experiment, a mutation, or a person. He just wanted to be in the outside world where there weren't straight jackets, padded rooms, annoying freaking lights that flickered on and off all day, or doctors that lied about EST treatments. But Shinra had him, and there wasn't any feasible way of escaping. Kadaj let out a heavy, reluctant sigh and, rolling onto his stomach, tucked himself into the corner of his cell. Maybe he would get some sleep tonight. Maybe those dreams wouldn't come to haunt him. Maybe . . . just maybe.
The plastic cell door wasn't an obstacle. He just passed through it like a ghost and sauntered down the hallway, eyeing the other prisoners. Those few that were still awake didn't seem to see him; either that or they were too enraptured with what they were doing to notice. So, unnoticed, he walked down the dark hallway and passed through the door at the end of his wing. The guards sitting in their security boxes right outside the wing didn't take notice either. They were watching some silly kid's show that only came on late at night because of how ancient it was. Kadaj flicked his eyes, nonchalantly, over them. One even looked right at him, but turned his head back to the television. It was undoubtedly strange, but it didn't matter to him. Now was the opportunity to get that folder and to see what was outside.
He tip toed down the hallway, wound his way through the maze of corridors and rooms until he ended up where he wanted. Dr. Mizu's office. The light was off, as she probably headed off to bed a few hours ago. It had to be midnight. Most of the lights were off, even the basic night lights that were kept on a few hours after the wing lights were extinguished. Kadaj didn't even bother with the door handle; he just passed through the door itself. It was, after all, much easier then fussing with a lock.
There was a filing cabinet right next to her messy desk. Kadaj kneeled in front of it and, opening the bottom draw where the 500s were kept, he flipped through the large selection of folders until he found his: Number 547. It was a lot thicker then the others. It had to have a few years worth of complied notes and treatment recommendations, but that wasn't the case. In fact, he hadn't even been in the hospital for six months and yet his folder was crammed with notes on his condition. Kadaj glanced over to the doctor's chair, pulled it out, and collapsed in it. Laying the folder out on the desk, he started with day one. The very first day that he was brought into the hospital. According to the notes, they had found him, barely alive, in Midgar. After vigorous mako treatments, he started to recover but with, apparently, no memories of who he had been before hand. The trauma from his injuries and all the mako treatments could have caused him to lock away his memories.
His brow furrowed as he scanned the scribbles that dotted the paper. Apparently, these notes weren't just from his stay in the hospital. They contained vital information about his birth, his former alliance with Shinra, and how he betrayed them to release Sephiroth and Jenova on the world to destroy it. Flickers of memories came back to him. The stealing of the Jenova cells, his becoming of Sephiroth, and his clashing with Cloud after he killed Sephiroth and almost killed himself. Later notes explained some of what Shinra was attempting to do during his supposed EST treatments. They were drawing blood and creating clones of Sephiroth, but although those clones looked exactly like Sephiroth, they were dead. They had no soul, no life, and were utterly useless. The mako treatments were supposed to bring out Sephiroth's personality in him, or transform him into the famous SOLDIER like before. Maybe that's why the guards feared him. During his mako treatments, he could unpredictably change into the most feared SOLDIER of all, or was that for other reasons? Kadaj snickered and flipped through the loose pieces of paper. What else Shinra was planning, the notes didn't say. The doctor was simply required to keep an eye out for any behavior that might hint at his knowing of Sephiroth of bringing out the Sephiroth in him. It was all rather amusing to think that they were trying to make him transform back into the silver haired devil that would kill them all if resurrected. It brought about another question. Why had he transformed then but could not now? It baffled him.
Skimming through the rest of the notes, he felt slightly relieved. And slightly annoyed. He was just their little experiment until they could find a way to revive the real Sephiroth. Then what would they do with the world? Bend them all to their control? He was they key to their devious little plot, and if he could just escape then . . . he tried to put that out of his mind. There was no way to escape. There couldn't be. If there was a way, then certainly there would have been others before him that attempted it. He'd never heard a whisper of anyone ever trying. Probably because the guards had once made it very clear to him that any escape attempts ended in death. But they need me, he thought to himself as he tucked the folder back where it came from. Shinra won't kill me until they have what they want. And that is a solid, living, breathing Sephiroth… Can I give them that? What if their attempts prove futile and there is no more use for me? What then? The silver haired man wondered as his blue green eyes with specks of gold splashed across their depths flickered across the room. He would find a way, even if it meant death. Either way, whether he tried to run or stayed, death was inevitable. It was just a matter of how he met it.
Slamming the cabinet of folders shut, Kadaj strode slowly out of the office and down the dark hall. Just about everyone was asleep except for the guards sitting in the rooms in front of the wings themselves. Instead of returning right to his wing, Kadaj meandered down a flight of stairs, through a couple of hallways, and past the iron door that kept the courtyard safe at night from intruders or would-be escapees. It was simply gorgeous at night, bathed in the moon's pale light. A few fireflies fluttered around the closed roses and around the marble fountains. The marble path led him straight to the opening in the mountain, and he gazed up at the star specked sky. How easy it would be for him to just fly away. For him to rise slowly off the ground, spiral upwards towards the deep blue ocean in the sky above, and see around him the mountain ridges that were covered in thick forest. That forest extended for miles, it seemed, but that was a river that wound its way down the mountains and into the valley between them. Where it led from there, he didn't know. Kadaj started out towards the mountains, to feel the wind beneath his feet and in his air, but a sudden force jerked him back.
"No!" he cried, reaching out in front of him as he was rapidly pulled out of the sky and back through the hole in the mountain. "I want to go free, forever! Let me go to mother, let me go free!" he shrieked.
Kadaj jerked forward and rolled onto his stomach. It was daylight now, and the flickering light in his cell was buzzing away as usual. The events of the night before seemed so real, but they might have just been a dream. His eyes shot from one side of the cell to the other, listening for the other prisoners, but he heard nothing. What day was it now? Tuesday? Or maybe it was Sunday? Sunday? That was a bad day. He flipped himself onto his back and leaned forward. Upon closer examination, mostly by him getting off his butt and sauntering over to the plastic covering on his cell, could he determine that the other prisoners . . . or were the just inmates? . . . were still in their cells, just chattering very hushed like amongst themselves.
Sauntering back over to his corner of the cell, he plopped back down and leaned his hot cheek against the cool padding. He was burning up. Did the air conditioner break? No, they were in the mountain anyways, so it should have been cold. But he felt so very hot and weak now. Beads of sweat were collecting at the top of his brow and dripping down the side of his face. It had to be the straightjacket. Had to be. He'd never felt so hot in his life, not even . . . even when? His thoughts were splitting again, like when he was undergoing the mako treatments. Were they even still doing that? He couldn't even keep track of that! His hysterical laughter broke the silence in the North West Wing and Kadaj began rocking back in forth, cackling like a maniac.
Shut up, you pathetic fool! The voice hissed at him, for the first time in what seemed like forever. It hushed him instantly. Tilting his head to the side, he listened for the other mental patients. They were dead quiet. Kadaj snickered to himself, mumbling to himself and cackling like a crack-head wanting a fix. Oh, he wanted a fix alright. He wanted to see those mountains from his dreams and feel the fresh air on his face. Maybe, he could climb up the hole that let light into the courtyard. But where would he go? The river. The river would be a good place to go. It was nice and cold and it would soothe his feverishly hot skin.
"Let's go . . . go go go . . . hehe . . . teeheheheheh . . . ehehe .. . . tehhehee hehehe hahah!" Kadaj cackled, rocking back and forth, staring from behind his silver bangs covering his cat like eyes. They darted back and forth anxiously. The moment the guards tried to let him out, he'd . . . he'd do something. And then he'd run away and out the wing. But the jacket. He'd rip through the jacket, that's what he would do. So many things that he couldn't do that he wanted to just for freedom.
If you want to be free, you have to listen to me, Kadaj. The voice whispered, sweet and soft like silk curling around his aching head. If I tell you to do something, do it. And do it quickly. The voice commanded, trying to coax Kadaj out of his hysterics. But the man didn't listen. He didn't want to hear any more from his supposed 'alter ego'. It wasn't helping him get anywhere, and it hadn't tried to before. It just whispered things to him, things about . . . he couldn't remember now. But it whispered and it waited and it probably even lied, just like everyone else. He hated lies. He especially hated it when people looked directly into his eyes, faltered, and then tried to lie. Lies lies lies.
"Listen . . . no . . . to no one . . . they lie . . . everyone lies . . . you lie. You lie, you lie, you lie!" he screeched shrilly, jerking forward and slamming his head against the padding. "Out of my head . . . out out out! Get out of my head!" he cried, beating his head softly against the padding. "Mother . . . Jenova . . . I want mother, mother. Mother . . . the mako. Mako, mako, mako . . ." Kadaj mumbled incoherently.
The voice grew stern, I can take you to mother. And all three of us . . . we'll be the Calamity from the Skies. We'll destroy Shinra and make them pay for making us . . . for making you . . . suffer. We'll use this world as our fiery vessel through the stars. We'll find a new planet, a pure planet. Kadaj? The man was crying, wet, bitter tears as he nodded and wiped his nose on the tight, restraining jacket that kept his hands behind his back. His silver hair clung to his pale cheeks and he muttered, "Calamity from the Skies. Destroy them all . . . everyone . . . fiery vessel . . . yes. Yes . . ."
Kadaj took a deep breath, steadying himself, "What to do . . . how? No way . . . no escape."
Just listen to me. Trust me. When I tell you to do something, just do it, Kadaj. I know a way, so listen. Listen to me. The voice whispered, lulling him into a rather hypnotic state. Kadaj's head sunk as the voice's words coiled around his mind. They soothed him, and made him listen to what it was saying. I can make you free, Kadaj, if you make me one promise. I only ask one thing in return for what I am going to give you. Just one.
Tilting his head to the side, his eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head, he whispered, "Tell me . . . one thing . . . what thing? What more do you need? Mako? Mako, mako mako . . ."
He cried out in shock, and stumbled back from the dark clothed figure standing in front of him. His blue green eyes shot around, but there was no where to go. It was a dark room, lit only by a single candle sitting on an old, wooden desk. The other cornered him and, putting his gloved hands on either side of Kadaj, he leaned forward and whispered, "That you will free me, Kadaj." Sephiroth stared him directly in the eyes, his deep, emerald orbs flickered with intense emotions. Their faces were so close that Kadaj could swear that he felt heat emanating off of the other man's body. But it couldn't be. This had to be a dream or something. There was no way that Sephiroth could simply . . . appear . . . in front of him . . . wherever he was. Kadaj pushed himself against the wall, fear coursing through him. He wanted to run away, but there wasn't anywhere to go. He was pinned.
"H-how?" he stuttered, reaching out to touch Sephiroth's face, to reassure himself that what was happening was not another hallucination. The SOLDIER endured the brief touch, but not without reluctance. He rather despised being touched, especially by one so unworthy of himself. Sure, Kadaj had Jenova cells and had gone to very extensive measures to try and resurrect Sephiroth, but that really didn't matter. Kadaj was clinically insane, though it wasn't his own fault. Sephiroth sneered, "There is only one Sephiroth and will always only be one. Me. Shinra wastes their time trying to make pathetic clones, because they lack the thing they need most: my soul, which is, by the way, currently using you as its host."
Kadaj blinked, understanding, before inquiring, "So it was you moving around the ward last night, not me. That's why I couldn't go to mother . . . "
"You'd be of no use to her as a spirit, and nor am I!" He scowled. "That's why I need to free you so that I can have a proper body and won't have to fight for someone else's pathetically inadequate sack of flesh." A disturbingly malicious smile overcame his visage, "And then we can destroy the cesspool this world has become."