Redeeming Cain
By Kaj-Nrig
Notes/Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII is the sole property of Square Enix Co., Ltd. I claim none of its characters, scenarios, or affiliations as my own.
Chapter 6: The Second Night (Courante)
The forest was quiet, an auspicious sign. Lucrecia clung close to him, her fearful eyes darting every which way. Vincent, for the most part, kept as calm as possible. No moonlight shone through the thick canopy, yet an eerie light still illuminated the forest, radiating from nowhere and everywhere at once. He had earlier cast an eye askance at his shadow but found that it was twisted and malformed, bent out of shape by that disturbing glow. There were no patches of gloom in this forest, no spots of brightness, only that unsettling monochrome light everywhere. It reminded Vincent of a phrase from long ago, a proverb that most likely didn't exist anymore, having evaporated into the mists of time: "When you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you."
Hm... How appropriate.
Vincent worked hard to keep his rage under control – he knew it was not like him to hold onto a grudge like this. He also knew that it was not at all surprising that Yuffie would have attacked someone. She was a vampire, after all. Still, he found himself clenching and unclenching his clawed hand, marring the glass orb held therein with jagged white crisscrosses.
He led Lucrecia further into the forest, to the point where they could no longer see the entrance if they looked back. The trees here were large and spaced widely apart. Their trunks reached extraordinary lengths, and even Vincent, who had seen many awesome sights in his lifetime, was partly stunned by their sheer size. They stretched up for what seemed like miles, their branches spread out like the webs of giant spiders, so effectively blotting out the sky that nothing but short, sparse grass grew beneath them.
Strangely enough, there was nary a sign of creature or beast. No birds swooped down to peck at their flesh, no wolves jumped out at them from behind the massive tree trunks, no man-eating insects crawled out of their holes to swarm the two of them. In a twist of irony – or perhaps it was foreboding – the forest was deathly quiet.
"V-V-Vincent..." Lucrecia began.
"Shh," he commanded quietly. "Something is not right. Stay cl-"
"No, Vincent, look," she insisted, gesturing toward a massive beech tree to their right. A large metal object protruded from it, some sort of four-pronged object which had been shoved with what seemed to be incredible force into the tree's bark.
Vincent tried to shake off the effects of the disquietingly silent forest, but the persistent sense of being watched, of being stalked, of being toyed with, would not disappear. As they made their way to the scarred tree, she holding onto his left arm and he keeping his gun arm tense and ready to snap to any sign of movement, he heard a small grunt of disgust issue from Lucrecia.
"Wh-what is it, Vincent?" she whispered fearfully. He noticed with mild surprise the way her fingers clenched ever so slightly on his arm, as if wanting to claw at something.
"I don't know," he admitted. "A... A weapon of some sort. Some kind of throwing weapon. Is this a common tool in your town?" She shook her head emphatically, a flicker of anger flashing through her eyes. "Then it must be... there. Look."
He gestured to another tree in the distance, which had been almost indiscernible before in the strange, grayscale twilight. This one was marked by a large gouge in its side, and as he looked back at the star-shaped weapon lodged in the tree next to him, he realized that the gouge was just about the shape of one of the weapon's four sides.
"Come on," he told Lucrecia, gently pulling her hesitant frame with him.
"W-wait, Vincent!" she murmured. "I-I-I can't. I'm sorry, I can't. I can't go any further. L-L-L-Look at m-me," she whimpered, glancing down with terrified eyes at her quivering legs. "L-L-Look, let's just... let's just go back, okay? I'm sure Mayor Foulke will understand if we just explain to him that you're not at fault and even if they won't listen to us they can't possibly still be there anymore I mean it's already been half an hour the townspeople should already be back inside Asgard by now please-"
Her quivering lips, the frightened rabbit look in her eyes, the way her sleeveless shirt clung tightly to her chilled bosom, all these overcame him, and before he could stop himself, he had gently slapped her before sealing his lips against hers. It was erotic, so intensely sensual, a kiss that was fueled completely by hunger and lust and the knowledge that he was doing this to her in Hell of all places, and he felt her respond to him, the two of them clinging tightly to each other as their lips reacted feverishly to each other.
Delicious, so delicious, I would make love to you right now-
Then he pulled back, leaving her panting and breathless, with a small, delicious moan slowly trickling out of her abused lips.
"I promise you, Lucrecia. I will protect you," he managed to swear after a few steadying breaths.
She nodded faintly to that, her long, beautiful fingers coming up to caress her flushed and parted lips, all with a mild glaze over her eyes like she were lost in a trance.
He put the chipped ball of glass back into his pocket, grabbed her hand, and followed the path that had been torn out of the trees.
----____----
As they moved further and further into the forest, the shadowless monochrome light eventually dimmed until it almost matched the darkness of the middle of the night. There always seemed to be just enough illumination for them to see where they were going and to make out details in the fog, but everything was still wrapped in shades of black and purple and cerulean that Vincent almost began to wonder what time it really was.
He had never known of anything so-
They came to a wide clearing after walking for what felt like both hours and instants. The trees formed a large circle around the patch of grass, but when he looked up, he still could not make out the moonlight or the stars. All he saw was a perpetual blackness that, if he stared too long, began to feel as if it was swallowing him up.
Like a scrape of chalk on a blackboard, in the middle of the clearing, where a moment ago had been nothing, stood a suited man. His pale skin and crimson hair seemed to possess their own light, standing in sharp contrast to the abysmal darkness surrounding him. His undershirt shared the same intense, ultra-white flush, but the rest of his outfit appeared as dark and mellifluous as the ebony surrounding it, giving Vincent the impression of looking at a disembodied head and hands.
"I can assure you I mean you no harm," the man, if he was a man, calmly spoke when Vincent trained his gun on him.
Vincent felt Lucrecia shuddering behind him, staring with abject terror at the robin-haired apparition that had so suddenly appeared. It was no wonder she was frightened; if he hadn't known any better, Vincent himself would have thought that the man was a ghost. Perhaps he was a ghost.
"Who are you? Are you human?" Vincent asked, keeping his gun aimed squarely at the "person's" head.
The body bowed deeply and politely, one smooth motion of down with right arm sweeping and up with right arm returning to its original position. "'Who?'" he repeated, his light voice almost tickling Vincent's skin in a way that was completely disgusting. "'Who' is but a function of 'what,' and what I am, as you so rightly ask, is decidedly inhuman."
A poet... Vincent grimaced. "State your name."
"Ah, indeed, how pruriently impolite of my person, most powerful prince. You, who proffer your exceptional physical prowess from the populous Inner Plate, having put into play the expiration of many plus a vampire, have my sincerest apologies, and putting past us that painful experience prior, let me simply add that it's my very good honor to meet you and you may call me Turk."
There was a small silence after the long, eloquent monologue before Vincent spoke again. "Why did you lead us here?"
The thing named Turk shrugged, spreading his hands to signify his ignorance. "It was not I, dear hunter, who scored those trees to your backs, if that is what you are suggesting. The simple job requested of me was to wait here and greet you in time, though I find that my hospitality was perhaps misplaced, as I have given my name and you have yet to offer yours or that of your beautiful blushing bride behind you, though I suppose it would not be very difficult for one such as I to take a gander at the name by which she goes."
"Who told you we would be here?"
"I play the role of a simple messenger, hunter, and perhaps that of a steward for her honored guests, if they will be so kind as to come with me. Additionally, I have shown you neither hostility nor ill respect. Common courtesy would suggest that you offer the same respect.
"But," he added, bringing up a hand to halt Vincent's retort, "as it is not my place to reprimand you, good Sir, I do apologize for my forwardness and uncouth behavior."
Vincent considered the pale, thin man's words carefully, searching for any signs of malice or deceit, but slowly lowered his gun when he could find none.
"Vincent Valentine," he answered at last.
"Vin... cent... Va... len... tine..." the inhuman man repeated, his voice pausing after every syllable as if to taste each sound. Figuring his apparent love for words, he was probably doing just that. "Ah, how vicious yet valorous such a name is! Vincent, Valentine, Vee, Vee... Victory and Love: a vile, venomous, visceral contradiction, both vehemently vying to verify the veracity of the vampire's villain, and yet vicariously befitting of a virtuous vanguard such as the visage before me, this very Vincent Valentine. Ahhh... Voila!" The man, his dress suit inked like the empty space between the night sky and the horizon, turned his back to them and, with a great flourish, plucked a midnight-hued shade almost seemingly from thin air, revealing an intricately-decorated carriage. The vehicle almost seemed to have appeared from nowhere; such was the darkness of the cloth now hanging from Turk's fingers, though to be honest, Vincent could scarcely see where the cloth and suit and night were differentiated.
"In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran cast vicariously as the avante-garde of his venerable vampiress. This visage, once a vestige of the vox populi, now stands very nearly vanished – as you may visibly verify – and has vowed to valiantly vivify without vacat his master's visitor's every verdict, be it a vengeance, a vendetta, or, as she advocates, a verification of a vicissituding view on vampirism. Yet may we not avast, lest vainer vermin-"
Vincent hurriedly grasped Lucrecia's hand, very nearly puncturing her skin in the process, as he scooted past the annoyingly verbose creature. "Yes, let's go," he interrupted frustratedly, quickly unlatching the carriage door and entering after Lucrecia.
I hate poets.
----____----
"Vincent, this is not good." Lucrecia shuddered uncontrollably, rocking back and forth with her arms limply wrapped around her shoulders; with squirrely eyes, the beautiful young woman's gaze darted back and forth between the two side windows, she almost flinching as something in the forest flashing by caught her attention. "This is not good," she repeated, bringing a hand up to her lips so she could gnaw nervously on her thumb.
Amidst the tension and his anxiousness to know in which direction they were going, Vincent found himself oddly aroused by her behavior. Every time her eyes quickly met his before glancing away, every little bump that caused the open neckline of her shirt to reveal more and more of her succulent bust, every single flicker of her cloud-white teeth caused him to forget more and more of the peril and danger they were in. If he hadn't known otherwise, he would've thought that she was doing it on purpose.
He reached out and grasped her hand, part of him worrying that she'd accidentally chew it off, and part of him suddenly unable to stand not touching her. The kiss he had stolen from her was still fresh and heady in his mind, and as he felt her smooth fingers under his own far rougher ones, he remembered the way those same fingers had fluttered to her lips. He was tempted to see whether they tasted just as luscious and captivating... but he suddenly shook himself back to his senses and simply caressed her wrist.
"Everything's fine, Lucrecia," he assured her. Tried to. She nodded absent-mindedly, still shuddering and twitching, but at least the tremors he felt through her hand had subsided somewhat.
They'd been traveling for just under two minutes when the cart slowly came to a stop. Releasing her hand and going for the handgun at his side, Vincent's eyes narrowed as he tracked the sound of grass crunching under feet; the footfalls were barely audible, though, a clear reminder of the unearthly nature of their chauffer.
We're hardly a mile into the forest... a mile and a half at best.
The thought was of little comfort; they'd be able to make their way out of the forest fairly quickly if things went sour (which he had a strong suspicion would be a likely scenario), but this was still a forest of death that they were in – every step of the way would be contested, even if there were no signs of any monsters.
Especially if there were no signs of any monsters.
The side door opened soundlessly, and again Vincent was met with a seemingly disembodied head and torso. "We have reached the castle, Sir hunter, Mademoiselle. If you please." His horribly pale hand gestured for them to step forth; Vincent complied warily, and after a bit of coaxing, so did Lucrecia.
The night was darkest here, and although Vincent could still see just fine, the darkness was so complete that he could hardly make out the castle's silhouette against the black sky. The absence of stars in that pot of ink struck Vincent as incredibly ominous; not even he had ever-
The thought escaped him as his attention turned to the blinding flare of torches being lit. They illuminated the base of a large double door, and other torches spontaneously bursting into life finished the job.
"This way, honored guests." The two of them traded glances before leaving the safety of the cart – No horses, Vincent noted grimly and without surprise – and taking their first step into the vampire's castle.
If the night sky was a nightmare, then the main hall was almost certainly its mate. Six large marble pillars marked the way from entrance to throne room, stretching from the cold, stone-padded floor to the interminable ceiling above. It seemed to Vincent that the castle was as tall as the night outside was. Torches along these columns also flickered into being, though their light merely outlined the red carpeting upon which he and Lucrecia treaded. Turk's form seemed to emerge and disappear with the light, a disturbing sight in its own way; it was as if the "man" could transform himself, becoming an inky liquid by night and a solid, material object by day. Vincent made more and more notes about him.
Peering beyond the scope of the light, Vincent could make out the dark silhouettes of monsters and creatures of all sorts, all hording around them, all held back by the merest command of the resident vampire. Again, an oddity. One so young as her could not have possibly had the power she did.
The conglomerate of demons and trolls reached even the second floor balcony, where creatures with snake tails and dogs' heads and bat wings played games with the stone gargoyles keeping steadfast vigil. Vincent was sure that there were even more above them, and more above them, and up and up until the castle ended, if it ended.
"There is no need for alarm, Sir hunter. We promise only peace. These brutes and barbarians, though they lack anything to satisfy their appetites, wallow only in the shadows, and their fangs are bared through habit. My mistress promises you that no harm will come to you."
"I killed many of their kind a few days ago," Vincent said, bellowing loudly enough for the echoes to reach the demons. "I wonder if their restraint will hold if they know that?"
Disappointingly, apart from an increased venom in their growls, the creatures offered no reaction. "They are loyal to their mistress, Sir hunter," Turk explained.
"Also to their stomachs, in my experience."
"It is in their nature, Sir hunter. Is nature a thing to be condemned?"
"No. The Devil's work, though, is."
"And you would know what the Devil's work is?"
"I have seen one of the Devil's works, and I intend to abolish it."
"Indeed, and yet how very self-righteous of you. Judging by your eyes, Sir hunter, were you not once-"
"My time will come when it comes."
"Very well. I apologize if I offended you, Sir."
He offered only a grunt in return. "Apologize." The man likely thought this was all a game.
"Here we are. Your Majesty, I present to you Sir Vincent Valentine and the Mademoiselle Lucrecia Crescent."
A massive chandelier in the ceiling above suddenly showered the entire chasm with light, revealing the mistress of the castle standing directly in the middle of the room. Writhing along the walls, in a disgusting orgy, were masses upon masses of limbs, scales, slime, tendrils, wings, eyeballs, bones, and flesh. Lucrecia yelped at the sudden horrid spectacle, almost fainting dead on the spot save for Vincent quickly scooping her up.
"Nasty, ain't it?" Yuffie muttered, wrinkling her own nose at the sight. "Just to let you know, I had nothing to do with all this."
"Why did you kill the Sheriff?" Vincent demanded, unholstering his gun. Ironically, he found himself a bit more at ease with the young vampire girl in this foreboding castle than in either Lucrecia's home or the confines of Asgard. She wore a simple yet elegant lavender dress which parted on either side to reveal smooth, lithe legs. The dress was almost the antithesis of her gaudy outfit the night before - instead of revealing every square inch of her skin, it hid everything in a plain sheet of pinkish purple, yet it still hugged and conformed to her body in all the right places so as to give the young girl a deceivingly passive and demure seductiveness. Her arms were bare, the wound in her right shoulder already indiscernible, and her high-heeled pumps matched her dress; though they did little to heighten her, they did serve to lend her an added air of grace and nobility. The matching amethyst earrings likewise resonated with her glowing eyes, which now radiated a soft, gentle purple light rather than the gray he'd seen previously. The air of restrained, repressed sexuality was thick in the air, and Vincent could nearly taste the despicable desire growing like puss inside of his stomach.
That was the trademark of the vampire.
"Who?" Yuffied asked, leaning forward as if speaking to a little child. The neckline of her dress dipped ever so slightly to present him with an unencumbered view of her petite breasts, and she rose again, her eyes twinkling when they caught his, knowing that he had most definitely noticed.
If you were looking to play a game, vampire, you chose wrongly.
"Don't play dumb with me, vampire."
She smiled at him, a small, coy flick of the lips as she slowly, ever so slowly turned around – her dress was backless, as it was – and strode to her throne, her hips swaying ever so gently that he almost thought she wasn't doing it on purpose. You certainly are trying your hardest, Vincent thought.
Yuffie sat down, smiling prettily at him and ever so casually crossing her legs at the knees, displaying more pale, gentle skin in the process. "Well, Vincent – mind if I call you that? – first of all, I don't think there's any need to be so official." The way she said his name was almost as intoxicating and provocative as the way Lucrecia did, and Vincent found himself gripping the his gun tighter and tighter. "I'll call you Vincent, you call me Yuffie, and let's just forget last night ever happened, unless you get off on that sort-"
Her sickening come-ons turned into a loud and satisfying shriek as Vincent fired. The bullet shot past her head, fluttering the hair on the left side of her face, and slammed into the throne behind her. Wheeling off of her seat, Yuffie eyed him with a venomous disgust that bore no traces of her attempted allurement. "What the hell was that for!?" she yelled, all pretenses of seduction now completely forgotten. Turk, standing next to her, instantly jumped between the two of them, glaring quietly at him with much the same expression as Yuffie.
"I'm through playing your games, vampire," Vincent responded through clenched teeth of his own. "Answer my question or the next bullet goes in your head!"
"If you'd stop shooting at me, maybe I would!" Yuffie retorted from behind Turk, clutching at her neck where a small piece of shrapnel had cut her. Then, after a moment, she continued, "Besides, I didn't kill anybody! Once the sun went down, I double-timed it back here!"
"You lie!" he accused, pressing the trigger-
Before even he could react, Turk had rushed at him, twisted the gun out of his grip, and planted a kick into his sternum, sending him plummeting across the expansive throne room. Lucrecia yelped in alarm and came rushing to his side almost instantly, but he had eyes only for Turk.
Tossing Vincent's gun on the floor to land in front of the hunter, Turk again stood between him and Yuffie, a faithful servant carefully guarding his highness. "Her Majesty is not lying, Sir hunter. Does your prejudice against your own kind keep you ignorant of the truth?"
Vincent readied a retort, but bit it back. He came to his feet and grabbed his gun.
"Whether you killed him or not is irrelevant," he said at last. "More importantly, the person who turned-"
"Uh uh, wait!" Yuffie chided playfully, peeking out from behind Turk. Apparently, now that the moment was gone, she had deserted her plans to seduce him. "Remember the church?"
"Church...?" Lucrecia echoed, giving Vincent a quizzical look.
"What of it?" he returned.
"Well, I seem to recall that we made a deal: you ask a question, then I ask a question."
"That was not-"
"Okay, then, I guess it's goodbye-"
"Wait!" he suddenly yelled, and in that moment he knew that he had lost whatever measure of control of the situation he might have had. Yuffie, also realizing this, positively beamed.
"Yes?" she said, drawing out the sound until she fairly mocked him. She's having fun with this.
Which gave him time to realize that he had not lost all control, as he had previously thought. "Get rid of your servants," he said, gesturing to the countless writhing bodies slobbering up the walls. "As a sign of good faith."
"'A sign of good...'" Yuffie repeated slowly before tossing her head back and laughing hysterically. Doubling over, clutching her sides, the perverse young vampire guffawed until she had to wipe tears from her eyes. Vincent, for his part, felt that intense rage once again starting to press against the inside of his skull, pulsing ever so slightly in time with her laughter.
Between loud burst of laughter, Yuffie continued, "Y-you... Ohhh, Vincent, you're a funny guy... Heheh... L-look, I... I'd be more than happy to oblige you, but... eheh... but like I told you before, they aren't taking orders from me."
"Your servant, then. Turk."
Yuffie smiled at that, laughing a bit in a sort of haughty amusement. "D'you really think I'm that stupid, Vinnie?"
The abbreviation of his name felt like she had just violated him, catching Vincent off-guard. The way she said it... Her voice was warm and inviting, friendly and playful, with just a hint of haughtiness and invitation that created a spark of heat inside him that was altogether unsettling. He was tempted to bring the gun up again, but a look at Turk's relaxed form suddenly tightening made him stay his hand. This is not a good situation to be in, he mused.
"But..." Yuffie brought a slim, young finger to her lips and made a show of thinking. Finally, she said, "Turk, how about you go and..." Here she thought a little longer. "I dunno, just go."
"Your Majesty, I-" Turk began, but Yuffie silenced him with a shushing motion of the hand.
"It's okay, Turk," she explained. "Our guest Vinnie here isn't very trusting, but I've got a feeling he won't try anything funny. I trust him." The final sentence was spoken with Yuffie's eyes planted firmly on Vincent's, and the hunter grudgingly holstered his weapon.
"Vincent!" Lucrecia whispered in alarm.
"It's okay," he insisted, slowly revealing to them his empty hand.
Turk glanced at him, glanced at Yuffie, and bowed lightly before stepping to the side and striding past them to the castle's main courtroom. "My apologies, Vincent Valentine, for striking you," he offered as he passed them, all the while casting a suspicious eye at Lucrecia. As he passed into the darkness of the castle courtroom, his dress once again seemed to blend into the darkness, and it was only after his bleached face and scarlet-colored hair disappeared that Vincent turned to address Yuffie.
The girl had not returned to her seat; instead, the girlish vampire was twirling lightly about the floor, her lavender heels not making a single sound even when they struck hard on the stone surface.
"What is your question?" he asked, weary of her constant giddiness.
"Oh, come on. Let's dance, first."
"No."
"Poopy-head." She stopped in mid-rotation, letting her dress twirl sensuously around her hips. "Okay, then. One question... One question, one qu- Got it. What's the story behind those weird eyes of yours?"
Vincent felt sorely tempted to shoot her right then and there, for he would be damned before he told her anything more about himself.
...but then he would have nothing to go on. It was clear that she wasn't the one behind all this. She was hardly a vampire at all; there was certainly no way that she could have been responsible for Melantha's death and later midday resurrection. On top of that, there was the matter of the last attack sixty years ago. Something about the Elena girl just didn't feel right...
He would have to risk it. Moreover, even if Yuffie tried to use that information against him, he knew that he could easily dispatch of her.
Vincent opened his mouth to speak, but was halted by a tug on his arm. "Vincent, please... let's get out of here..." Lucrecia pleaded, her gaze darting from one monstrous creature on the wall to another.
"In a moment, Lucrecia. They will not hurt you. You have my word," he reassured her before turning back to Yuffie.
----____----
"I was turned long ago. I was one of the oldest. I existed for a long time, trying to find some way to cure myself. It was only after extensive research that I finally managed to undo the vampirism, and I became human again. The process..." Vincent grimaced, examining the claw on his hand. "...well, it had its flaws."
They were quiet for a moment, until Yuffie suddenly exploded with laughter. Her giggles echoed off the walls until she became a stadium of people, all laughing at Lucrecia and him. "What?" she exclaimed between uncontrollable laughs. "You! Were a vampire! And you- And you turned yourself back!" Vincent sighed as Yuffie once again keeled over, wiping the tears from her eyes when she was finally finished.
"You don't believe me."
"Of course I don't! Who do you think I am, an idiot?"
One wonders...
"That is my answer, vampire," he said bluntly, continuing the conversation. "Now it is my turn. The woman who turned-"
"Nuh-uh, that's not fair, Vinnie!" Yuffie suddenly retorted, wagging her finger at him. "I thought you trusted me enough to tell me the truth?" To her credit, Yuffie managed to sound almost sincere, despite the fact that she said it with a wide grin on her face.
"That is the truth, vampire-"
"The name's Yuffie."
"...Yuffie. If you don't believe me, that is not my fault. Now either answer my question or I kill you."
"Fine, fine. Shoot."
"The-"
"Not literally, I mean."
"What?"
"Shoot. Don't shoot literally."
Vincent's teeth clashed roughly as he snapped, "The vampire who turned you. What happened to her?"
Yuffie instantly silenced at that. Her mock playfulness became a sharp, wary apprehension. She straightened up and stared at them, not with hatred or curiosity, but with... anxiety? Vincent couldn't tell. Then her eyes twitched ever so slightly, and he glanced at Lucrecia as she clung desperately onto his arm, and in her eyes he saw-
The monsters roared to life and crashed to the floor from their perch.
"Let's go, Lucrecia!" he shouted above the clamor of the throng of beasts, pulling his left arm free from her grasp and reaching into a pocket. A few moments later, three reports sounded and three walls of ice flew into the mob, and he and Lucrecia were rushing back toward the entrance. As they fled, he managed one furious glance back at Yuffie, and through the hodgepodge of tentacles, fangs, claws, and talons, Vincent saw only an expression of puzzled disbelief. Then her face was swallowed by the barrage of fiends and Vincent found himself scrambling with Lucrecia through the suddenly pitch-black castle.
----____----
They flew through the forest like two stars in the night, one crimson and the other an unstained white. The entire horde of the forest closed in around them, and they would have been eviscerated long before had it not been for the thunderous hammerfalls of Vincent's firearm. It expelled jets of flame, giant skewers of ice, and gouts of electricity as if it were the embodiment of Thor himself, and thanks to it, the two of them continued their hectic sprint back toward Asgard.
"The forest is getting lighter!" Vincent shouted above the din of howls and chattering behind them. "We're almost there!"
Something swooped down from the forest canopy and he sent a bullet to meet it. The nightbird's right wing, almost two feet in length, exploded in a shower of blood and feathers as the bullet shattered its thin, frail bone and sheared its textured skin. Neither of them looked back as they continued their wild sprint, but Vincent could hear other nightbirds slamming into their wounded brother, tearing its flesh apart.
"Keep runni-"
"Ah!" He skidded to a halt and looked back. Struggling on the forest floor, Lucrecia was furiously kicking to try and pry her leg away from a tree root that had reached out of the earth. "Get it off, Vincent, get it-"
The ominous and ancient bellow of the monsters proceeding through the mists of the forest became louder and louder as he rushed over and slashed rapidly at the living root. He pried her leg free from the tree's grasp, but even as they got back to their feet, Vincent saw that the massive Ent had served its purpose – the forest's entire populace was nearly upon them.
"V-Vincent...!" Lucrecia shouted, scrambling behind him as he turned to face the oncoming tidal wave.
"The forest entrance isn't far away," he muttered, loudly enough so that only she could hear. "Run, and don't look back. You can make it back in less than five minutes if you keep running."
"Wha- B-Bu-Bu-"
"Go! Now!" he ordered, snapping sharply so that she jumped, startled, and immediately did as told before she could think any better.
As Lucrecia faded away into the murky gray light, Vincent turned back to the crowd and ejected the spent clip. This will be painful.
The cacophony made his entire body vibrate in time with the unholy creatures' bloody chorus, and Vincent quickly loaded another clip, feeling the comfortable snap of the slide kicking into place.
Just beyond his sight, lost in the thick fog that seemed to glow in this strange shadowless light, the monsters rumbled but did not advance. He could imagine the sight: scores and scores of giant snakes and orcs and trolls and imps, all stacked on the branches of the trees, filling the entire forest in front of him.
Suddenly, something leapt out from that illuminated smoke and landed with a deafening crash in the ground directly between Vincent and the mob. Vincent readied his firearm, eyes peering into the smoky debris that was billowing up from the creature's descent from on high.
"Vincent Valentine... my quarrel is not with you, Sir hunter." The smoke cleared slowly, but the voice that drifted out from it was unmistakable.
"Turk."
"Indeed it is I, Sir hunter, who beseeches you. Stand aside, set your self-ordained, self-sustained vow of servitude aside. I seek to see to it that Lucrecia Crescent suffers sufficiently for her sins against us."
Vincent reached inside a pocket and grasped another glass orb. "She has done nothing but mourn the loss of her sister and fear that you and your kind will eventually take her humanity. You will step no further."
"'Take her humanity...'" Turk chuckled mockingly at that. "Very well, then, Vincent Valentine. Let us see how powerful that 'humanity' of yours is." The humanoid figure flicked both wrists casually, and two weapons slipped from his sleeves into his hands: in his right, an extendable metal rod; and in his left, a jet-black pistol. His long, sinuous crimson hair seemed to signal to Vincent as it whipped about him, almost with a life of its own. Turk twirled the weapons in his hands.
"Prepare yourself."
Chapter 6: The Second Night (Courante) END
A/N: So. Finally, an update. I hope you like the story thus far; I'm certainly having fun writing it. Anyway, that's that, and see you next chapter.
Notes:
The forest's "shadowless" light – A concept mostly stolen from Chapter 14 of Mark MacKinnon's On a Clear Day You Can See Forever. Whether you like Ranma ½ or Sailor Moon or neither or both, you owe it to yourself to read this amazing work of fiction.
Turk – Two notes on Turk. 1 – Yes, his visual design is a take on Reno of the Turks. 2 – His speech is partly inspired by the character V from V for Vendetta. His first two lines are almost exactly the same as V's from the movie adaptation. I wouldn't say that V constantly spoke alliteratively, of course. It was just fun experimenting with the technique, that's all.
Ents – Tree spirits in a similar vein as Tolkien's Lord of the Rings. If anyone knows of any words for "male tree spirits," I'd be more than glad to hear them. Calling evil trees "Ents" doesn't do Tolkien's creations justice, "nymph" is feminine, and "dryad" sounds too... Nordic old-wizard-like-Merlin, I guess. (Though it'd suit the whole naming scheme here...)