Thank you to each and every one of you who had reviewed, alerted or favorited!
A/N:
I'm working on updating all my stories. It's slow going…especially since I'm busy. Anywho, enjoy! Please review.
Chapter Warnings: Blood, gore, ideologically sensitive material
Word Count: 2,412
Disclaimer: I still own nothing…
Aftermath
By Catsitta
Chapter two: Crescendo
He was floating.
Below, he could see two teenagers. Both were young. Both were male. Both had wild, spiky hair…and both were bound. The elder of the two, one with raven hair instead of blond, was awake…aware. He writhed against his bonds and screamed, his eyes dilated, his skin a shade of chalky pallor that made him resemble a ghost. The other was motionless, alive yet not. His mind was elsewhere, his body abandoned to its fate.
He knew this because that body belonged to him.
The teenaged blond let out a shuddering sigh, uncertain why he came here…why he felt compelled to see what anchored him to the realm of the living. It was not as if he was particularly fond of his body and he felt no desire to return to it. In fact, he wished that it would die from its treatment and at last allow him to rest in peace—instead of dealing with an older version of himself whom wanted to defy everything…including his own death.
The older man did not appear to notice the strain living in the Lifestream had on his younger self. He seemed oblivious to the boy's struggles to maintain his identity…to maintain his sanity. There was the promise of no more suffering being offered and not taking it was causing the blond immense distress. Names came and went, his own lost to the Lifestream, but others remaining as brief glimpses of clarity. He knew that the body belonged to him. He knew that the other teenager was a friend…and he knew that there was an evil man hurting them both…but he could not remember. How he wanted to at least remember.
Trembling, the boy settled beside the raven-haired teen. He was still screaming…then again, it would be hard not to when your ribs are splayed open, blood gushing without a chance to congeal, organs exposed to the dank air of this private hell. He wanted to look away, to be sick…but he could not tear his gaze from the gory sight. Briefly, he pondered how the teen was staying alive, but upon seeing a tank filled with acid-green ooze, realization washed over him.
Mako…condensed Lifestream. There was enough within the teenager's veins to keep him alive a good deal longer…but something else was also at play. Something sinister. Something corrupt. Something that contrasted with life itself.
Jenova.
The name popped out of nowhere and sent a wave of nausea through his body that was impossible to resist. He doubled over, dry heaving, aware that his insubstantial state was unable to empty the contents of a nonexistent stomach. But he could not help it. Vile sensations rippled through him, crawling over and beneath his skin. 'Parasite.' He found himself thinking. 'Virus.'
And then, the sensations passed, leaving him feeling impossibly weak. Weaker than when he touched minds of the living and allowed himself to be seen. Certain he was about to fade into nothingness, the boy allowed himself to sink back into the realm of memories. The Lifestream greeted him and wrapped him in its embrace, but did not erode him away. Rather, it cradled him like a mother would an infant, and eased him back into his little place of existence.
A place where he felt no pain.
He was so tired. So very…very tired.
000X000
Sephiroth had made a decision. He would kill President ShinRa and topple the company that shoved lies down his throat and thrust him into petty wars. He would ruin the humans who wanted to play god, their blood bought power but a gilded illusion. Midgar would fall. And this time, he would not fail as he had in Junon.
And he was doing fairly well thus far.
Standing behind the fat man himself, with Masamune poised for the kill, the silver General was certain everything would go as planned. The President was as ignorant as ever, one hand busy with a glass of expensive wine, the other skimming over a keyboard as he examined profit margins and formulate how to expand them.
Truth be told, he was anything but stupid. President ShinRa was an entrepreneurial genius having built the company from the ground up—turning it from a simple power plant into a world power itself. He took over two continents this way, becoming the head of a nation that had been a string of loosely tied cities before he came into office.
He went from a child with an idea…into the leader of a de facto government.
No. ShinRa was a fool, ignorant and greedy, but he was a tactical mind to envy…even admire.
Almost a shame he was human. Then again, Sephiroth never liked the fat man. He was too slobbering when it came to the warrior's successes. There were days where he had wondered if the President would literally drool on him. And his touches were often lingering, especially before Cloud stepped in as Sephiroth's ever possessive mentor.
Grinning, the silver warrior lunged forwards, enjoying the solid feel of flesh against steel, and the gurgles of pain that ShinRa managed to release as blood bubbled into his throat. Sephiroth resisted the urge to laugh, instead opting to twist Masamune with sick fascination and pleasure. Strange how causing death was both disgusting as well as orgasmic—delightfully satisfying in a disturbing, primal way.
Then, he pulled his sword free, savoring the bodily thump that followed as the fat man collapsed—still bleeding, but beyond saving. ShinRa gasped, choked, and clawed at the carpet as he tried to focus steel-blue eyes on his assailant. If he managed to discriminate Sephiroth from his surroundings, the warrior did not know, for the man writhed for only seconds longer before shuddering and growing still.
None too gently, he toed the corpse, before taking a step back. ShinRa likely never thought he would die helplessly floundering in a pool of his own blood—unable to fight back or scream, his Turks nowhere to be seen. He likely though himself invulnerable. Too high up to possibly fall.
Such was his mistake.
And Sephiroth's opportunity.
Flicking blood from Masamune, Sephiroth put his next plan into action, ignorant that he was walking into the grasp of another player's game. There was a reason why the Turks did not leap into action…
000X000
From behind the lens of a security camera watched a nonchalant redhead named Reno. He had seen everything and instead of telling Tseng that there was a trespasser, he told him to hold position. To ignore any sounds he heard as he stood guard outside President ShinRa's office. He then waited just long enough to confirm ShinRa's death before picking up a PHS and saying,"Yo boss man, I'd like to congratulate you on your promotion."
On the other end of the line, Rufus, a boy not even eighteen, smiled coldly.
"Thank you, Reno. Please inform the media of my father's unfortunate demise…tell me, how did the President pass exactly?"
"Heart attack," the Turk responded with a quirk to his tone.
"Tragic…but expected. Do allow me my time to…mourn."
"Of course. I'll tell Tseng to…clean the old man's office up…That is, so you aint reminded of him when you take your place."
"Thank you, Reno. Dismissed."
000X000
Odd. There was no assault greeting him at every corner.
Sephiroth prowled through the halls, his head racing as he came to realize that there was something very wrong. The ShinRa Electric Company was never without some military official or another milling about in the halls. Whether it was one of the disreputable Turks, a SOLDIER or a mere regular trooper—there was someone with a weapon stationed at certain key points. And either the security went downhill after his leave, or his presence was known.
'Burn it all.' Hissed Jenova,'Burn those filthy vermin and their empire to the ground.'
Tempting…but he wanted to find said vermin first.
"Sephiroth."
It couldn't be…again?
He was in the lobby of the main ShinRa building, and it was as quiet as a ghost town…or it had been.
Turning, he looked towards the sliding glass doors that lead outside. Standing there, framed in the glow of the setting sun, was none other than Cloud Strife.
"Who are you?" Sephiroth demanded, slashing the air meaningfully with Masamune.
"That answer you already know."
"Liar."
"Child."
The silver-haired warrior scowled,"Enough. We shall end this now."
"Yes. We will." Replied the blond as he drew closer, First Tsurugi nowhere in sight. Acting on instinct, Sephiroth took advantage of his unarmed opponent, his blade singing as she cut the air. And sing she did…right through Cloud as if he were mist.
"What?" Baffled, Sephiroth continued to swipe Masamune through Cloud, growing frustrated when the older male merely continued walking as if nothing were amiss.
Then, Cloud was upon him, dangerously close, those mako-tainted eyes drilling into his own.
"There are things you cannot, and will never, control." Said the blond nonchalantly,"Who your parents are. How they raised you. Or if they treated you well." Then Sephiroth felt it, a very much solid hand gliding along the skin of his cheek, a calloused thumb making almost affectionate circles. "You cannot control who you fall in love with…or who falls in love with you. You cannot control other people, Sephiroth. You can command them and demand from them their loyalty. You can even take their life. But their spirits and hearts are their own. And they, themselves, choose to love or hate…to be free or to follow. And not all with accept death."
A shiver went through Sephiroth's body, much like an electric spark that trailed up and down his spine from the tip of his nose to the ends of his toes. He wanted to lean into the touch of his lover…to revel in the feel of his skin. He wanted to hold and kiss the man before him, all thoughts of killing fleeing his troubled mind. He felt at peace, oddly enough. Almost drowsy, even.
He could not hear Jenova's shrill scream. He could not feel her drive for blood.
But as soon as he heard silence, everything crashed back down in a thunderclap of sound.
Cloud had pulled away.
"I do not accept death."
Sephiroth blinked, shaking himself free of whatever spell the man had over him, ready to fight. But Cloud was gone…the only thing left behind being a small black book. It was old and tattered, with obvious signs of abuse, but when he picked it up and opened the pages, he realized that the handwriting belonged to a stranger. It was not Hojo's hurried scrawl, or Cloud's confident, even script. The letters were small and concise, as well as soft with feminine curls.
He found himself scanning the words, noting rather quickly that his name was mentioned frequently, as well as another's…a Vincent Valentine. But before he could consider what it meant, Sephiroth noticed movement at the corner of his eye and heard the steady click of expensive shoes against marble.
As he lifted his head, he saw three men.
Rufus ShinRa was leading, his blond hair in a neat style, and his steely eyes sharp—a razor smile on his lips. Behind him were two Turks, the Wutainese Director, Tseng and his never professional second-in-command, Reno. Both men were as different as night and day, but Sephiroth would have to be a fool to think either less dangerous than the other.
'Kill them.' Jenova screamed. 'Make them suffer. Make them burn!'
"What an unexpected surprise, General." Rufus said as he reached the bottom of the staircase, where he stayed, arms folded behind his back. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your arrival?"
"I've come to purge this Planet of human filth." Sephiroth replied in a deep monotone.
"I see. And how do you propose doing so?"
The silver warrior smirked,"With my blade and flame."
Rufus chuckled softly,"Ah. Once a weapon of war, always a weapon of war…To think, my father thought he could control you. After all, Hojo claimed you were his loyal…specimen."
'You cannot control other people.' "I cannot be controlled. I am no one's tool…no one's weapon."
"But you are a weapon. The greatest to ever be created! A single man army capable of destroying the very world, as you claim to be planning. But is that what you really want? After all, you spent the entirety of your life on a leash…contained…restrained…dependent. Freedom doesn't suit a creature like you. No, you need to be chained...controlled...guided by the hand of another. You have known nothing else. Why seek independence now? Why desire more?"
Like a snake, Rufus seemed to slither closer, a deadly gleam in his eyes. Sephiroth gritted his teeth, wanting nothing more than to strike the brat where he stood…but something held him back. His own thoughts. His own confusion. His own doubts.
Why was he seeking world domination? Why exactly did he hate all humans? After all, it was Cloud who showed him he was not a tool to be used at another man's will. And Cloud was human…
Caught in a fog, he became very still, his gaze drifting out of focus.
"See. You do not want to kill me." Rufus murmured, one hand reaching out to touch Sephiroth's shoulder. "You want to stop this nonsense and return to your place as General. Don't you? You can have it back, Sephiroth. Everything can return to normal…no consequences…if you lay your blade down now."
'He is trying to control me…Never again. I am no one's tool.'
Sephiroth snapped out of his haze and stared down at the new President of ShinRa. It was then that he decided that the boy was too much like his father…it was best to put him out of his misery.
Guns fired.
There were shouts of alarm and screams of pain.
And Masamune once again feasted on blood.
After he disappeared, leaving the main building behind him for now, there lay three bodies on cold marble. But one of them began to move. Reno, notorious for his ability to endure anything, rose to his hands and knees. Blood gushed from his injuries and he knew that there was not a lot of time left before he would loose too much blood to survive this time. But his life was unimportant in the grand scheme of things, he knew, for while Tseng appeared to be breathing, ever so shallowly, Rufus was stone cold still.
A/N: ( Review please! )