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 8: The Second Night (Minuet)
By the time Vincent made it back to Lucrecia's home, the sun was already breaking past the horizon. Shafts of sunlight were glancing down the hills of Asgard, though they had yet to reach the enclosed town. The dirt road leading back to the house played host to various hastily-tossed tools – sickles, torches, and the like – as if the villagers had fled back to town in a panic, though from what, Vincent wasn't sure.
It couldn't have been a forest monster; for one, he was sure that all the forest creatures had been summoned to the castle, and for another, there were no bodies or severed limbs or splatters of blood. Nothing. In fact, he doubted if they had fled the scene at all – the tools were sharp, and sharp tools, especially when mixed with massive crowds, tended to draw blood.
But he had much more important things to worry about, like ensuring the safety of his client, Lucrecia Crescent.
He leapt over the fence surrounding Lucrecia's property as soon as he could, gasping in pain as his limbs scraped against the burnt fabric of his clothing, and made as quickly for the house as he could. As he strode across the yard, Vincent spotted Lucrecia fidgeting nervously on the front porch, and when she glanced up, her eyes dripping tears of equal parts fear and concern, he found that he had no other option but to smile a small, reassuring smile.
Before he could do more, though, she was up and rushing over to him, scanning him up and down, and screaming. "Oh, God, Vincent! What happened to you!? Are you okay!? I-I saw the explosion, a-and I thought... What happened!? How did you make it out of there!?"
She caught Vincent in a passionate embrace, causing his skin to suddenly flare up and his eyes to roll back, and for a moment, he lapsed into blackness. When he came to, he was on his knees and Lucrecia was apologizing profusely, her hands caught between wanting to offer help and not wanting to injure him further. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Vincent! I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorr-"
Vincent nodded as best he could, bringing up a hand to quiet her incessant sobbing. "I'm fine," he rasped, the words issuing forth from a dry throat. "I'm fine," he repeated and gently pushed her back to gain some space.
"O-o-okay, Vincent. Wh... uh, wh-what happened? After I left?" Lucrecia asked, but Vincent ignored the question.
"Are you alright?" he wondered, motioning to her feet, which were wrapped in a layer of gauze.
"O-oh, what- oh, these? Yes, I'm fine, I'm fine, Vincent, some stones cut me on the way back is all, but-"
Vincent nodded to her and turned back toward the gate. "Good. Then stay in the house," he commanded above her concerned questions. "The sun's up. You'll be safe."
"Wait, where are you going!?" she finally shouted as he got to the fence.
"To check on the good Doctor."
----____----
Even before entering the clinic, Vincent knew that this would be his final talk with Father Hebner – the sun was on the verge of illuminating the clinic, and if he didn't get to the Father, the morning sunlight streaming through the large glass ceiling would. There was no doubt in Vincent's mind that Michael Hebner was almost (if not) completely turned by now, and Vincent's only fear was that he would be unable to coax any more information from the priest.
He almost felt bad for not considering the safety of the good Doctor.
As he opened the door of the glass-roofed building, Vincent caught the sound of something crashing,and he instantly dashed down the main corridor and turned a right at the intersection. A man screamed, and he doubled his pace until he came to the Father's room, his metal boots scratching the floor as he slid to a halt and pulled out his firearm-
The stinging in his body caught up with him, and he doubled over as dizziness once again threatened to claim him. Vincent shuddered, attempting to fight off the sensation; before long, he found he could open his eyes to observe what had happened in the Father's room.
Said Father was kneeling above the body of Doctor Fisher, clutching a scalpel with one hand and pinning down both of the Doctor's wrists with the other. The scalpel was positioned perilously close to the Doctor's throat, and Father Hebner's newly-acquired fangs were plainly visible. The hunter glanced into the corner of the room - before the nausea caused his eyes to swirl, he noticed a small semicircle of burn marks surrounding it.
"What's going on!?" he demanded, his voice faltering as the last vestiges of pain caused his jaw to lock up.
The Doctor was the first to speak, his tear- and spit-spattered lips calling out, "H-h-help me, the Father's b-b-b-been-"
"Quiet!"
There was a sudden crack as Father Hebner's talons slashed across the Doctor's cheek, and Vincent fired on instinct, making the Father's right shoulder lurch back violently. Through his quickly-clearing vision, Vincent saw the scalpel in the Father's hand clatter into the back of the room, leaving Doctor Fisher free to scramble to his feet and lurch toward the door. "Hold, you!" Vincent commanded, throwing his left hand out to catch the Doctor's bloodied coat before he could escape. Keeping his gun trained on Father Hebner, Vincent carefully entered the room.
The room was a mess, with medical equipment strewn all about. The bed Father Hebner had been sleeping in was overturned, as was the tray holding all his belongings. The floor in that little corner of the room was littered with specks of brown and black – burnt skin. Vincent noted the semicircle of burnt flooring once again, and he glanced down at the Doctor.
It was then that he finally noticed the small stain on the Doctor's pants and the stench of sex radiating from the man, hidden as it was beneath all the sweat and fear.
"Father," he addressed the writhing man on the floor. Father Hebner, for his part, bravely rose to his knees despite the wound in his shoulder, his face contorted in pain.
"Y... Yes... Vincent." Father Hebner looked at him, fearful, hungry, furious, but mostly ridden with guilt. His eyes shined a dull amber color.
"What happened here?" Vincent asked, making sure to track every movement of the vampiric priest. Doctor Fisher scrabbled at his claw and voiced his complaints, but Vincent promptly slammed his face into the door frame and threw his unconscious body into the hallway.
The Father made a quick and sudden move, causing Vincent to step back and squeeze a little tighter on the trigger, but it turned out to be nothing more than Father Hebner getting to his feet. "I see..." the priest said, noticing Vincent's backward step. "I... I mean you no harm, Vincent..." He brought his palms up to be examined, then showed them to Vincent; the otherwise pale flesh sported what looked like ugly, deformed grill marks. "These both came from my cross," he explained, chuckling lightly, self-deprecatingly, to himself. "Am I the new Cain now?"
Vincent shook his head slowly, but his gaze never strayed from Father Hebner. "Tell me what happened, Father. You don't have much time left."
"I awoke... to voices. Inhuman voices." Father Hebner flinched as if something had just bit him. From his entire demeanor, the priest seemed more intent on escaping the persistent, adamant, and disembodied voices than telling him anything... much less the truth. Will I get any useful information from him?
"The voices of Satan," he confirmed. "Then what?"
Father Hebner paused to collect his thoughts before continuing. "The Doctor came in, holding one of my parishioners hostage. Jeanne Devoveum. He... He'd poured holy water all around me. See... Over there." He pointed back toward the corner of the room, where the rust-brown semicircle lay. "And he told me to bite her... bite her, o-or he would rape her. For some stupid- some damned experiment of his. I- I couldn't, Vincent, I simply couldn't, and I told him so, but then he began to tear her clothes off, and I- I had to say yes!"
Vincent's eyes narrowed suspiciously at that, checking the corners of his vision for any sudden movements. There were no one else here besides himself, the Doctor, and Father Hebner. No reanimated corpses of young girls had suddenly risen to attack him. He waited patiently.
"H-he brought her over to me, and I- I- I-"
"Did you bite her?" Vincent asked, rudely cutting off the Father's blabbering.
"No! I told you, I could never do that!" Father Hebner retorted. "When he was close enough, I- I charged him! Even through all the horrible... all the burning pain of the holy water, I managed to knock him down. I- I told her to go home, t-t-to get some help, get the sheriffs, and I held him here... I'd only been waiting a few minutes before you arrived."
Vincent considered the man's story, then nodded in satisfaction. "Very well." The stench of sex and arousal on the good Doctor was more than enough corroborating evidence, and the allegation that he had been planning to use them as guinea pigs hardly came as a surprise. He has the right to poke and prod something like it's a piece of cattle, he recalled with disgust.
"So... what now?" asked Father Hebner, once again staring at his hands; this time, he seemed almost morbidly fascinated with the inner workings of his newly-sprouted talons. Small wonder, Vincent mused. Not every day you become a vampire.
Keeping his gun up, Vincent stepped back out into the hallway. "What more can you tell me of Yuffie?"
"Nothing more than I already have," Father Hebner answered as he slowly followed.
"There was another Vincent here sixteen years ago, around the same time Yuffie left Asgard, correct?" He took the Father's shocked expression as an affirmation and barreled on before the priest could answer. "What did he do to her?"
"I- I'm not sure. He never did anything the other kids didn't."
"He was around her age?"
"Yes, he was- Vincent, where are you going with this?"
"Where is he now?"
"Dead. Why? What does he have to do with this?"
Vincent shook his head. "You're sure of this."
"Positive! We drive a-" Father Hebner paused, shuddering as he thought about his next words. "We... We drive a stake through all of our deceased." The priest dropped to his knees, clutching himself even as he shivered uncontrollably. "I- I'm so-"
Vincent cut him off with a shushing finger. "You stake all of your deceased? Why not Melantha?"
"She..." Father Hebner shuddered as the memory of the ghastly perversion of his Melantha fluttered in his mind's eye. "...I thought I could save her... that G- G- that He could help turn her back. P-please, Vincent... I'm so cold... I-It's unbearable!" He sobbed and gazed pleadingly at Vincent. "Please," he begged. "Please help me..."
"You'll feel warm if you drink," Vincent replied, motioning to his neck with his claw. "But I would have to kill you, Father."
"I would welcome that," the pastor countered. "This chill... I must be feeling what the dead feel."
"That you are. You must want some warm sunlight, then."
It was only then that Father Hebner seemed to notice the firearm that had never strayed from his heart. He sniffed once and got to his feet, glumly following Vincent into the hallway.
----____----
"Truly?" The Father chuckled mockingly. "The vampire bit Elena, then had this Turk creature impersonate her. After that, she manipulated the townspeople into thinking Elena was the vampire and staking her."
"Yes," Vincent answered, grunting as his left arm buckled slightly from pulling the unconscious Justinian Fisher.
"That doesn't surprise me as much as I think it should," Father Hebner said with a resigned sigh. "She must have had this planned for decades."
They were nearing the clinic entrance, Vincent keeping a few feet back from the Father to track his motions. Behind him, being dragged unceremoniously along the clinic's tiled floor, was Doctor Fisher, a large and bruised bump marring his already off-putting face. Above them, the sky shone through the glass ceiling, colored a quickly-lightening cerulean.
Father Hebner paused just as the two of them stepped out onto the clinic's front porch. "You were right, Vincent," he muttered. "It does feel much warmer out here. Look." He pointed to the eastern hills. "The sun will strike the ridge of that hill soon." The priest-turned-vampire faced the hunter. "Vincent," he said, his voice suddenly void of all cynicism. "As a man of G... G... God..." he choked out, "I feel I should apologize to you. For yesterday. It was disrespectful of me to judge you in His place."
Vincent smiled then, a small but genuine smile. "You have nothing to apologize for, Father. If anything, I would hope that your prediction comes true." He holstered his firearm and came to stand beside the priest.
"Do you think He will forgive me, though?" Vincent asked after a lengthy lull in the conversation.
Father Hebner laughed loudly and good-heartedly at the question. "Vincent," he said, "there are so many things wrong with that question. First of all, it would not bode very well for me if I said no. And second of all, I would not be a very good believer in the Son Jesus if I said no. And thirdly, if I said no, what would that say about all my years of being a pastor?"
"Hm... Fair enough."
The priest faced Vincent for the final time, asked, "May I borrow this?" and took the hunter's crucifix. Slowly dropping to his knees even as the holy cross burned his fingers, he faced to the east.
"Goodbye, Vincent."
"Goodbye, Father Hebner."
"G... God bless you."
"God bless you."
As the sun rose over the eastern hill in a glorious and brilliant shower of light, Father Michael Hebner felt his skin burst into flames. His eyes were filled with a light unlike any other, and in the few moments before his death, that light melted away to reveal to him the true shape, the true formlessness, of God.
"Look, Vincent!" echoed the hills of Asgard. "This is the power of faith..."
Chapter 8: The Second Night (Minuet) END
A/N: One important scene I omitted from this chapter was the altercation between Father Hebner and Doctor Fisher. It may or may not make it into subsequent chapters, but I felt that the story simply flowed better without that scene. I might add it in if I rewrite this chapter, but I think I like it the way it currently is.
Notes:
Jeanne Devoveum – From "Joan of Arc" ("Jeanne d'Arc") and "devoveo," Latin for "to sacrifice." I had originally intended for her first name to be "Piaca" ("sacrifice"), but it just sounded silly. Not that the new name sounds any better.