Penance
©®™ Lt. Commander Richie
Disclaimer: All I own is a headache and a sewing machine.
Dedicated to: ...I'm not too rightly sure. Yatta Dante and his portrayal of the Green Ranger? Yatta Cloud and his portrayal of Cloud Strife? Nah. I know! All you Yuffentine fans!
MissEdithxx got my 100th review. Hence: cameo. Just not in this chapter.
Chapter 16
It turned out that the two girls had absolutely no clue as to what a box with oxygen in it would be, so all they ended up doing was turning the upstairs rooms upside-down in their search for numbers. Mira pulled heavy things from the floor, lifting the end of the frame of an old bed above her head with both hands and a small grunt before setting it back down and declaring that there was nothing important in the old Master Bedroom.
"How many questions are there?" The six-year-old asked, sitting down on the threadbare red hall carpet with her legs crossed. Marlene clutched the clues in both hands, reading quietly in her head.
"It says there's four, but there's only three here. But one of them says to go to the squeaky floor part on this floor, so why don't we get that one first?" She asked, and Mira nodded frantically. She jumped to her feet, running down the hall with her right hand on the stained sheet rock wall. The petite little girl's fingers brushed against an indent in the wall, it was a slightly-sunken door with a small handle that was painted the same color as the walls. Curiously, the six-year-old turned the handle, but it wouldn't budge. She tried again, twisting harder and breaking the flimsy and antiquated lock. The door swung open, and as Marlene came up behind the little girl Mira walked inside. The room was spartan, only a bed with a chest at the foot decorating it. A shrivled old flower rested on the windowsill, what was left of red petals in a pile around the flower pot. Marlene smiled and ran forward, opening up the box and looking at the underside of the lid.
"Is it there?" Mira asked, leaning down and looking as well. A small number, barely visible, was scratched hastily into the lid.
"Yes!" Marlene said, smiling as she pulled the small charred stick she had gone back and pulled from the fire pit out from behind her ear. She scratched the number onto the back of the scrap of paper with the clues with charcoal, closing the lid. Mira hissed and pulled her fingers back sharply; she had had them resting on the lip of the chest, and the older girl had closed the lid on them. "Are you alright?"
"I'm okay." Mira mumbled around the fingers she had stuck in her mouth. Marlene went to the only furnishing in the room besides the bed, a small dresser, and pulled a cloth band off the top that she could hardly see. The older girl pulled the fasteners apart, barely glancing at the faded logo before wrapping it around Mira's fingers in a makeshift bandage.
"How's that?" She asked, and the six-year-old nodded silently. The bandage may not have done anything for her sore fingers, but to Mira the strip of faded white cloth just big enough to wrap around someone's arm was her badge of honor. The two left the room as it was, undisturbed, only their footprints in the dust that hadn't been disturbed for thirty-two years.
"Hand me that screwdriver, would yeh?" Cid held out his hand patiently, and Red dropped the Phillips head from his mouth into the pilot's waiting digits. "Eugh, gag me with a backhoe. 'S covered in drool!"
"I don't have opposable thumbs, Highwind." Nanaki reminded the pilot, peering down over the edge of the roof where Cid was working. The pilot was standing on a parapet underneath the gutters, used for cleaning, and attempting to screw a restraint for the ancient metal gutter back into the rotted wooden siding.
"Yeah, yeah. Where's Spike?" He asked, and Nanaki shrugged in his own way of simply bobbing his head.
"Farther up the roof, replacing shingles. Why? Do you want help getting back up here?" Cid could swear that the cat was smirking at him for a moment after that, and he sighed.
"Nah, I just need things handed to me that ain't covered in cat drool. Hell if I get enough'o that at home!" The pilot cursed Shera's housecat under his breath. "If'n yeh scratch Shera's stupid cat under the chin, it drools on yeh!"
"My condolences. However, you must realize that you're not going to get back up without help, right?" Nanaki asked, and he sighed.
"Fine. Yeh ain't got opposable thumbs, though. How're yeh gonna get me up there?" The pilot's questions were answered as Nanaki leaned down and opened his mouth, grabbing the front of his white shirt and blue jacket with his teeth and yanking. Cid was pulled upwards, landing beside the large cat with several muttered explicatives. He sat up, wiping more spittle from the front of his shirt and inspecting the two new holes in the cloth.
"Warn me next time, yeh dumbass cat!" The pilot suddenly swore, and Nanaki let out a rumbling laugh. Farther up the roof, Cloud laughed as well.
"Stop swearing, Cid. Mira can probably hear you." The swordsman chided, hammering on a new shingle into an empty space. A rapidly-dwindling pile of new shingles was behind him, a hammer in hand and an old coffee can full of nails sat on the roof in front of him.
"Th' gutter's a bust. Siding's so rotted I can't get a nail in it." Cid stood up, brushing off his pants and heading for the ladder next to the stained-glass windows. He looked through the occasionally colored glass, watching in vague interest as Mira and Marlene ran past; the latter had a piece of paper clutched in her hands, and the pilot continued to watch as the two girls ran down the stairs and down one of the halls towards the Piano Room Yuffie had had such a hard time finding.
"Where're you going?" Cloud asked, looking over and watching the girls' final leg of their race.
"Imma go see if the brat's up to workin' yet!" Cid called, halfway down the ladder already.
"Why?" The swordsman asked, and he shrugged as he hit the ground.
"You saw her this mornin', righ'? She was like Vincent, jus' worse." The pilot said around a cigarette that he promptly lit. "Kid needs t' start fixin' stuff, else she'll do somethin' stupid."
"How do you know it's in here?" Marlene asked, watching Mira as she poked around the large piano in the Piano Room. The little girl had completely crawled under the instrument before she answered.
"Mumma sent me to a place with a buncha other kids when I was real little, remember? There was a nice lady that took care of us, but she wasn't as nice as Ms. Tifa. She taught us a song that had 'Tee' and 'Ray' in it an' she said it was for a piano." The six-year-old said, sitting down on the hardwood floor. She laid one hand on a board adjacent to her seat, and with a small squeak the floorboard popped free.
"You found it!" Marlene cried, jumping forward and pulling the board out. A small number was etched into the wood, just like under the board in the study upstairs and on the lid of the box in the somewhat-hidden bedroom. Mira took the charcoal stick from the older girl, copying the scratches she saw onto the back of the paper with the rest of the numbers they had found. She smiled, and Marlene struggled to put the board back where Mira had found it. With a well-aimed kick, the younger girl managed to send the board flying back into place. The piano jumped, making a crashing and rattling sound in the process. Marlene got up from the floor, dusting herself off and taking the proffered piece of paper from Mira.
"How do we get the next clue?" Mira asked, and Marlene shrugged.
"Maybe it's at the safe." The older girl said, pointing back to the door leading to the stairs. "I'll race you!"
Thus the race was on, Marlene running as fast as she could out the door. Mira followed close behind, putting on a burst of superior speed as she reached the corner to turn to the kitchen and then out into the Foyer. Marlene slowed down long enough to turn down the hallway, but Mira ran past on accident. The smaller girl slipped trying to turn around, falling on her hands before scrambling to her feet.
"Wait!" She called, holding a hand over her head and waving to Marlene at the end of the hall. The older girl paused, sliding to a stop on the cracked and crusted linoleum of the kitchen. "I don't know where the safe is!" Marlene shot back into a run, coming out into the Foyer and running up the stairs that Cloud and Cid had yet to fix. Mira ran out next, jumping over weeds and finally vaulting herself over a pile of lumber that was nearly completely unused. She climbed the stairs quickly, nearly losing a shoe through a hole in one of the steps. Marlene had paused in the center of the upper walkway, staring out the stained-glass as she waited. The younger girl fell to a stop, stumbling over a small chunk of wood before catching herself. She too looked out the window, smiling and waving at Cloud. The blond let go of the roof and waved back, smiling slightly before nearly tipping and grabbing the shingles in front of him.
"C'mon!" Mira said impatiently, jumping up and down as she grabbed Marlene's hand and began running down the hallway. Marlene waved goodbye to the swordsman as they went around the corner, and Mira paused in front of two doors.
"Which one?" The six-year-old asked, Mako eyes glowing in the sudden darkness of the unlit hallway.
"Left." Marlene asserted, and Mira let go of the older girl's hand to turn the high knob with both hands. The door swung open, the room beyond completely dark and foreboding. Apprehensively, the two girls began their trek inwards, Marlene searching the walls for a light switch. Soft and barely-there blue light was all that bathed the room, only illuminating the first few inches in front of the six-year-old. She let loose a small shriek as her foot touched something, but quieted when she realized it was just the edge of an old threadbare carpet. Marlene found a light switch, flipping it on with a stiff click. Mira screamed again, but this time with more urgency. She stood on a large rusty blue stain in the carpet, and not a foot away from her was the skeleton of a giant monster.
He gave a small wince internally as the coffin lid creaked open, the soft blue light of a pair of Mako eyes shining down upon him. The lid fell back away from the rosewood prison, and a light laugh came from above him. A small and thin hand, that of a child's, slid underneath one of his crossed arms to rest on his chest above his heart. Another went to his neck, in a crude yet effective way of taking one's pulse. The hand was as cold as ice, the skin drawn taut over bones.
"Why do you lock yourself away, Mr. Vins'nt?" The child's voice asked mockingly, more than likely not expecting an answer. But even to Vincent's own surprise, he answered.
"I must atone." He had not said that, had he? That was not his voice. His voice was not a grating tone that had seen the passing and toppling of empires and the imprisonment of his loved one.
"You killed us all." Red orbs snapped open, but instead of the small and loving face of Mira; surrounded by lanky black hair tied back by a red ribbon there was a face of a deathly pallor. Its skin was torn and flaking, hanging from bones and exposing molars and rotten gums. The eyes were no more than pits of blazing blue, and though there were no lids there was still the impression of being narrowed in anger. The mouth of the creature opened, the stench of rot pervading the air, and let out an awful shriek. But it was not of pain, or of horror; it was in laughter that the monster shrieked at him.
"That's the Planet-given truth. This is what shall come to pass." The voice was mocking once more, but Vincent came to a startling realization. None of this was real; it couldn't be. Even as he felt the cold, clammy hands of the monster began to encroach upon his breathing by pushing down on his chest and neck; he knew this was false, and that there was nothing to truly fear.
"I atone because I must. Release me, demons." The monster laughed again, this time with the grating voice that was not its owner's but that of another.
"Whilst thou release thineself?" The thing answered mockingly, pressing harder on the gunslinger's throat. Vincent coughed and choked, but did not relent his gaze. Nor did he agree to release himself from his long-forgotten prison of rosewood and velvet.
If thou shalt make the decision to fade thineself into dreams, we the Black Ones shall contort thine dreams into nightmares. The tormenting dream faded from view, the pressure on his neck and chest dulling away into nothing more than ghosts of touches.
"My dreams and nightmares share the same name." The words were dull against the velvet casing of the coffin, yet Vincent would not open his eyes. "Let me sleep, and let them come."
Would you have us fall to the level of the worst of thine race? Shalt we show to thee just what you fight so hard never to see? Galian mocked him, snappish tones rebounding across his head in a cacophony of jeers. The lupine demon would not relent in its campaign to be set free, always attempting to wake the gunslinger with sharp and ghostly pains of claws digging into his body.
We would show to thee the death of thine loved ones. The voice of the Masker paused its oily grate, the ghostly image of a curling grin pausing as well. The ones that thou hast truly loved and love now.
"I will sleep for as long as I see fit, and you may do what you shall to my nightmares."
Ooooooh! What did Mira find, the skeleton of the Lost Number? How long until they find what's at the end of the trail of numbers? What did Marlene use as Mira's bandage? WHY AM I ASKING SO MANY QUESTIONS?
All this and more will be answered next time! Same Bat-time, same Bat-channel!
Q'aplA!