And here we are in the second circle! (Everybody throws rotten tomatoes at her.) I know, I know! I'm terrible for not updating for so long! But I promise, I'll update more often this summer, especially because the characters won't leave me alone and I can't type fast enough to tell their story!
By the way, Cloti is officially canon! WOOOT! And after stumbling upon that little piece of information, of course I have to continue this story as a tribute to my OTP (after all, we always knew it was canon).
Dante's Heaven
By UnfalteringDream
Chapter 3: The Second Circle
Her heart close to bursting, she reached for the young Cloud with a hesitant hand.
A force pushed her backward and the world slipped from under her feet. But the expected cut of jagged rocks never came. Instead, all sight, hearing and sensations fled from her like leaves in the wind. She tried moving her limbs but the air turned thick. Stark alarm coursed through her once she realized the thick air around her began to coagulate into warm liquid. It felt as if she was being lowered into a warm bottomless ocean but that made her panic greater because she couldn't kick her legs to swim. Her body felt like lead.
Where…? Something heavy and stifling was pressing on her chest. She wanted to sit up to open her lungs and breathe, but her body would not cooperate. The water began to creep up her sides and face—she was surely sinking.
In her mind, she garnered all the strength she had to will her limbs to move and once her entire body was submerged, her arms began to thrash wildly about.
"Hey! Tifa, what's wrong?" The voice was murky to her waterlogged ears.
Was she going insane? Vincent had warned her. How silly were they to think that they could fight through hell with a few materia, fists and a gun? Her thrashes turned more violent at this horrifying revelation.
"Tifa! Tifa, stop!" Suddenly her lungs opened as the water became solid and silky. It tangled in her arms and legs and her tears ushered out rapidly. The voice continued to shout when it became clear and close. Trembling, she stopped moving to breathe more easily as an intense light burned through her closed eyelids. Warm arms came to rest on her forearms and the voice (which she could now tell was male) spoke in a soothing tone. "Shh, it's ok. I'm here."
"What…" she choked out amid her gasps.
"Shh, it's ok Tifa. I'm not going anywhere," he began to rub her arms in an effort to comfort her. Why did he sound so familiar? Where was she? Rubbing the silky material in between her fingers, she guessed it was a sheet. Her body felt warm but still wet and sticky; was she coated in sweat? From the distinct sensation of the sheets on her skin, she discerned that she was naked. Dread settled in her stomach as she tried to determine who the male was. She tried opening her eyes but the light was too bright.
"Sorry I left you alone. I had to check up on Marlene and Denzel." She did a double take. Was it…?
"Heh, I leave you alone for two seconds and you have a nightmare," he said in a shy, yet teasing manner. She could almost see his small, embarrassed smile when he's about to attempt a joke, a dimple appearing beneath his left cheek as he scratches the back of his head. "You know, Teef—," no one calls her that but… "You're higher maintenance than Fenri—"
She launched himself into his arms. Though she couldn't see him, she knew it was him. It had to be him. Only he calls her 'Teef', only he would have the audacity to touch her so intimately, only he would make such unfunny yet adorable attempts at humor, only he would compare his beloved wife to his equally beloved motorcycle.
Her hands buried themselves in his hair, soft and feathery—the same familiar strands that she used to thread through her fingers every night. Almost on instinct, she pressed her body against the familiar hard planes of muscle and rested her face in his neck. Despite herself, the tears streamed out again, more ferociously than ever. Too overcome to even say his name, she just held on as tight as she could.
"Teef?" Though he sounded confused, his arms came around her firmly.
It was him. She didn't need her eyes to tell her what her mind, body and heart just knew. Blind, she leaned back and her hands moved across his face, searching for his lips. He kissed her because he always knew what she needed. And right now, she just needed him.
He laid her back on the silky sheets; all the while, they never broke the kiss. It was a soul-searing kiss that tasted salty from her tears and sweet from his midnight snake. Her heart was pounding with delirious joy as goose-bumps sprang up all over her body from the proverbial touch of his hands. How long has it been…?
Wait. Cutting through the haze of pleasure, her rational mind screamed. This can't be him. He's dead. He killed himself. Suicide, Vincent had said. He even brought you the remaining pills to prove it.
Teef,
I'm sorry.
Cloud
She turned her face away from the imposter, feeling utter disgust at his hands resting on her bare hips. With all the strength she had left, she pushed his chest away from her. "No!"
The person seemed to anticipate her reaction and caught her hands, pinning them to her sides. God… Her eyes prickled with tears. How could she be so stupid as to forget? How could she be so easily tricked? "What's wrong, Teef?" he asked with Cloud's voice. "Why are you resisting me?"
She tried to open her eyes to see him, but the light seemed to intensify. Her muscles cried as she fought against his strong grip. She had to get away. Whoever this was, it was not Cloud. Cloud was dead. "Get away from me!" she shrieked. He didn't respond with words. Rather, he insistently tried to capture her lips with his. Never had she felt so helpless.
"Come come, don't be shy," he said, his voice wavering from Cloud's baritone to a pitchy tenor. The smell of sweat, alcohol and putrid body odor filled her nostrils. Tifa felt a cold shiver run down her spine. It couldn't be… Memories of a pudgy, ghastly man with a tacky tuff of blond hair and meaty hands inundated her mind. Growing increasingly uncomfortable the longer he stared at her chest. How it took every fiber of her being not to recoil when he advanced towards her while she was attempting to get information out of him. The last time she's ever felt such revulsion to a man was to none other than… "Don Corneo, get away from me!" Tifa shouted as she swung an uppercut to his jaw.
Even blinded, her aim was true as the man released her with a yelp. The light faded and Tifa snapped her eyes open. Even as she was adjusting to the dimness, Don Corneo moved his thick body over hers. Fueled by anger and disgust at the lust shining in his beady eyes, Tifa kicked upward with her leg. When he fell off the bed with both hands in-between his legs, she took this chance to scramble off the bed, clutching the sheets to her body.
"How dare you," Don Corneo growled, and Tifa caught a glimpse of his yellowing teeth. "How dare you refuse me?"
Tifa didn't answer, only calmly wrapped the sheets around herself and tied it into place; she was so angry she could barely see straight. How could she have been so stupid? To have believed Don Corneo's rendition of Cloud? As he approached her, she drew up her fists in front of her. His answering smirk was cold.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said. For a moment, Tifa hesitated. "If you ever want to see Cloud again—" her fists tightened. "—I would suggest you not fight me. I am the only one who can let you through."
"You're lying," the words left her tongue but her mind was already reeling from the mention of passage to Cloud. "How would you know where he is?" she asked. He answered with a chuckle as he stepped closer. Unconsciously, Tifa stepped back, fists raised higher. It was only then that she realized that she was stripped of not only her clothes but also her leather gloves. That meant her materia and healing potions were gone too. She was utterly defenseless except for her bare hands and feet.
Sensing her dismay, Don Corneo knew she had finally come to terms with her predicament. He reveled at the role reversal. The last time they had an encounter, she had tricked him and gained the upper hand in his naked vulnerability. Now she was unarmed and helpless and he was in his domain: the 2nd circle of hell. Oh, how the tables have turned.
"Even with a knife at my neck, I still wanted to live. I know what you're wondering, how did I die?" he stated almost nonchalantly. Tifa tried not to let her curiosity show. "It seems fitting, doesn't it? To be killed by a prostitute who got a little too ambitious. I let her get too close and look at what happened. Women can be real bitches, can't they?" he looked at her pointedly. Tifa replied by spitting at him.
"Oh, still feisty. I guess you think I deserve this fate, right? This miserable existence in the realm of punishment for the lustful is where I belong?"
"Yes," she said plainly. She couldn't get the image of the terrified girls with too much blush walking down the Wall Market streets out of her mind's eye. It was burned into her memory, ingrained by the smell of cheap perfume that still hung off Don Corneo, even in hell. He deserved to burn for all the sins of the flesh he had committed against naive girls whom were sold by their desperate mothers in order to survive in the slums. Once, she had witnessed a girl barely over 11 being escorted to his mansion in a gaudy dress and crippling heels. That girl could have easily been Marlene.
"Wrong. I'm not miserable." His lips looked like fat earthworms over his crooked teeth. "Not anymore. Not when I can finally get my satisfaction with you, Tifa Lockhart."
"Shut up." She had had enough. He was only wasting her time when she could be searching elsewhere for Cloud. "Just tell me where he is."
"Who? Him?" He gestured vaguely to his right and a figure began to materialize from the void. The thump thump thump of heavy boots procured a lean man. Tifa paled. Standing before her with blond hair, striking mako-blue eyes and dressed in a black ensemble was Cloud. But before Tifa could utter a word, Cloud spoke in an oddly trenchant tone, "Remember me, slut? It's Trevor. You said you would sleep with me but then you forgot about me once I left for the city. You promised yourself to me that night of your 15th birthday, remember?"
Tifa shook her head slowly, terror flooding into her face. "Trevor… No, I never promised you anything."
"No? Well, you certainly gave yourself easily to that spiky-haired idiot. Now that I look like him, will you accept my offer?"
"Teef." Another Cloud came from Don Corneo's left. "You used to always tease me, running around with those short skirts and tight shirts. Don't pretend like you were innocent—you wanted my attention. How can you help yourself, all the girls in town wanted me."
"No…" Trevor, and she recognized the second as Damon. Two boys that she had grown up with in her hometown. Why were they here, in hell? "You're wrong."
"Are we?" Don Corneo sneered. "You dress like a slut and you have a whore's body. Why did you think Johnny married you? For your personality?" His laughter echoed in the endless darkness. "No man could respect a woman like you. Worth nothing but for a good romp in the hay."
"Trevor, Damon," Tifa pleaded, feeling irrational shame at her state of undress. But her disbelief was greater in the presence of two boys that used to come over to her house for milk and her mother's freshly baked cookies. They had both left along with the other boys in town to find jobs to support their families. How were they killed? "Why are you here? In this… place?"
"Don't judge us! We chose our lifestyles and you chose yours. Not that you're any better. Look where the righteous, high-and-mighty Tifa ended up! With us!" they chortled, using Cloud's images as horrifying mannequins to mess with her sanity, no doubt.
"Where is he," she gritted, berating herself for underestimating the power of hell. She hadn't taken into account the illusions and ghosts of the past that resided in this place of eternal damnation. She shuddered to think that Cloud had joined their past enemies here. She couldn't lose her resolve. He needed her.
The scenery started to change as the bed melted away and the metal floor beneath her feet seemed to pulse and groan with the regularity of machinery. Piping covered the walls like snakes and the sharp smell of refined mako stung her nose. Dread punctured Tifa's already fragile sanity. A mako reactor?
The two doppelgangers reached behind them and pulled out matching Buster Swords. Tifa's heart skipped a beat. Somehow, seeing that weapon (that was so distinctly his) aimed towards her awoke a perverse feeling of calm yet also adrenaline. The kind of adrenaline that seemed to replace the blood in her veins and made her muscles itch with anticipation of the fight.
But what stopped her from attacking right away was the familiarity of his stance and the determination in those eyes. Ones that were always aimed at their common enemies, but never at her. Was it possible for him to attack her? Would he fight to kill her? She'd never considered that maybe, even if she did find him, he would not recognize her because they were now of different worlds.
She was given a split-second to react as Don Corneo shape-shifted back into his insulting version of Cloud and the three rushed towards her with swords raised high as the distinct "ShinRa Company: Nibelheim Reactor" sign materialized behind them.
She kept her eyes closed while taking a shower that night. She washed only her face, arms and feet, pointedly avoiding the voluptuous curves of her body. She was embarrassed by the large tumors of flesh growing out of her chest and ashamed of the gentle slope of her back as it reached the fullness of her behind. But no matter how much she scrubbed, she still felt dirty in her nudity.
Today had been her 15th birthday. All the kids in the neighborhood had celebrated it in the town plaza near the water tower. The coming of age of Tifa Lockhart, the town sweetheart whom everyone hailed as the perfect little lady. Upon her request, the area was strewn with colorful balloons and pink streamers; bright paper lanterns were lit once night fell and everybody had settled down to friendly chatter.
But she wandered off alone to the water tower nearby, her thoughts on a boy who once made her a promise. The boy that left their small town to make something of himself, to be a SOLDIER, to be a hero. Her hero. The boy that always stammered and stuttered and barely says anything, but that night, she felt the first flutter of love under that full tapestry of stars.
How long has it been since she saw him last? Whimsically remembering a tender scene between two lovers in a romance novel (she hid it from her father, of course), Tifa thought about how he would greet her when they meet again. He would have surely grown, as did she. She blushed at her next thought. Would he think she was beautiful?
She was startled out of her daydreams by her two good friends: Trevor and Damon, who came back to visit from the city where they worked. But Tifa had noticed a change in the two boys she used to hide under blanket tents with and count the stars. Trevor's hands lingered on her waist a little too long after they hugged and Damon's eyes strayed to her chest far too often for comfort. Small comments about her "development" and how she was "ripening" to a woman were preceded by an innocent: "Wow, Tifa. You seem… different."
She was always used to attention from the townspeople, but having their warm bodies so close and something almost feral about the gleam in their eyes made her feel sick to her stomach. They told her that she couldn't pretend to be an innocent little lady anymore. She had a whore's body, not fit for nice guys and marriage and commitment. Good thing there were plenty of men who would pay a pretty penny to be with her for a night (including themselves, they added in a tone that caused goose-bumps to sprout all down her arms). She didn't understand why she had to forsake her dreams of shooting stars and knights with bright, beautiful eyes.
As everybody was filtering back into their homes, Trevor pressed a piece of paper into her hand and (to her disgust) gave her butt a squeeze as he left. Perturbed as to his strange behavior but still curious, she waited until she arrived home with her father, mumbling something about retiring early. In the safety of her pink room with stuffed animals and fluffy princess-themed throw pillows lining her bed, she opened the paper and read it.
That night, she scrubbed and scrubbed until her skin tore and her flesh felt raw.
Stars winked in her vision when something smacked the back of her head, hard. She tumbled forward and fell painfully on her left shoulder. Every muscle in her body screamed for her to stayon the cool ground and rest but Tifa sucked in her resolve and twisted to the side when the Buster Sword came down without purchase.
She was dying. Her life force pumped out of her wounds as she round-house kicked the nearest version of Cloud and suppressed a shriek as a new wound blossomed in her back. She looked down with unfocused eyes at the tip of the sword peeking through her chest. The bright blood seeping from her punctured lungs into the stark white sheets transfixed her. With a barely audible grunt, the owner of the sword flung her against a pipe so hard that it rattled her bones.
To see the feral glow of Cloud's eyes was frightening; she never thought that it would be directed at her. As the three sauntered up to her, Tifa's frail consciousness took her to Marlene and Denzel. Thinking of them caused tears to sink into the already blood-soaked sheets. (To think, that she was hardly a crier and yet here she was, a mess of body liquids.)
Perhaps this was only just. Perhaps she deserved to die like this. It was almost merciful, she thought, since she had been too cowardly to kill herself before.
She no longer fought as the sword sunk back into her chest from the front. Bile crawled up her throat and she spat out blood, finding it harder and harder to breathe. "You feel violated, don't you?" the Cloud mocked. She tried to see Don Corneo's, Trevor's or Damon's face in the pristine blue of his eyes and the harsh twist of his smirk. Perhaps the fact that she couldn't see them, only Cloud's beautiful face, was the beauty of hell. It searched around for the most tender piece of your heart, the kind that hurt if you just touched it, and ripped it out.
"It hurts, doesn't it?" Yes, so much more than the physical pain. More than her body, her soul was drowning and she just wanted it all to end. She didn't think she could hurt anymore but an almost supernatural pain exploded in her already sore chest when he lifted her by the blade of his sword.
"This is for refusing me. Burn in hell, slut." She squirmed while being held in midair—her chest was being torn apart from the inside out. She gripped the blade so hard that her hands bled. Was this how Cloud felt when… that monster had done the same to him? Her heart pumped furiously towards its own demise.
She didn't notice the floor open up and the friction of sharp metal against her innards caused her to black out. All of a sudden, she was falling. The mocking glow of churning mako rushed up to meet her.
"Is this where he…" She traced the silvery flesh down his chest. He trembled when she kissed it gently. "Teef," he muttered as he caught her lips with his, pressing her to him with a hand on her back. Her body chased away the pain of memory. Her warmth made his body sing in pleasure instead of pain. And when they touched in the most sensitive of places, it didn't make him feel invaded, but complete.
"I felt violated," he said as they lay in each other's arms. "When he…" he trailed off with a choke and Tifa scooted up to look at his face. The vivid blue of his eyes swallowed her in its sorrow and she leaned in to kiss his forehead. He always had a hard time expressing himself in words and she wanted to assure him that he didn't have to but he continued. "…I thought of you. And… how much it must have hurt when he cut you too."
He drew closer to hug her waist and touched his lips to her own silvery scar running across her chest. Instinctively, her hands came up to shield herself from him but he caught them gently. "No," he mumbled, "You're beautiful, Teef. Every part of you is beautiful." Eyes burning, her hands cradled his face to guide his searching mouth to hers. They fell asleep with his face nestled in the warmth of her throat, listening to her heart beating in sync with his.