Chapter 15 - Once Again We Ask The Definition of Insanity
Summer 1984
An inconstant constant rhythm falls to Sephiroth's life.
Every day they take him out of his cell and do things to him. Sometimes he ends up being asked pointless questions. His voice is rusty as he tries his best to answer. Sometimes it is a blurry horror. Pushing back is a faraway dream most of the time so he does what he can. He doesn't speak until he is asked to. It is something that they can't get past. His thoughts are his own and he keeps it that way. It is safer.
A gym-like room is very familiar to him. They train him daily. He is asked to lift heavy bars and weights. He runs on a treadmill until he gasps. He surprises himself. His body sweats and struggles but holds together as the scientists try to tear him apart. The differences he can see after a few weeks, the dips and muscles that appear, astonish him.
Everything is done with an iron grip. He is not allowed to express wants and desires here. They want information and data that only he can provide and they extract it. His head is kept exhausted. He works hard enough that he can't imagine fighting his guards in the hallways most days.
Sephiroth convinces himself that he has stopped feeling. Survival becomes a game of understanding. Everything is input and results of that input. His actions create a certain reaction. It's clinical and unemotional. Only late at night do the cracks show in the darkness under his thin blanket.
He tries not to think about home. The soft grass is growing outside in the front garden. He aches for his books. He misses his journal. Part of him still bookmarks things that he should write down. In the darkness, he imagines the leather of the cover and the softness of the pages. Eventually, his thoughts lead to Mariella. The hazy grief returns. Before his thoughts go too far, he drags himself back to the coldness of the room and isolates himself in the dark.
These memories don't help him here. They only damage. That boy is gone now. He has to be.
Not feeling doesn't stop him from trying to run away. Three times he manages to escape his room or the guards. Each time he doesn't make it far. He can dodge the soldiers and their aim but he ends up banging frantically against a locked door. He's not left this floor since they put him here. The elevators, the doors, everything indicating up or down are locked. That's where they find him, smashed up against a door. They catch him then and he's dragged back unable to stand. They keep him in his cell alone and with the lights off until he breaks.
After that, they send in Landon. He takes care of him but never looks into his eyes. He stitches cuts closed and makes him eat. He talks to Sephiroth but the words are empty and hollow. A curdled feeling lives in his heart when he sees Mariella's murderer.
It was about a week into this that he first saw Landon again. Sephiroth had grown incredibly ill. Muscle cramps, shakiness, rashes and headaches keep him in his bed. Only Landon took care of him. Had he been any stronger, he may have tried to attack him. Instead, he remains limp and unresponsive. Landon's shoulders hunch. He moves quietly. Something tells him that Sephiroth is not the only prisoner here.
Still, he is smart enough not to bite the only thing that is helping him, not yet anyway.
"Are you going to talk to me today?" Big guy, as Sephiroth has decided to name him, asks as they march down the hallway to the examination room. He has his big hand on his shoulders. The handcuffs are tight today. Sephiroth keeps his chin up and counts the tiles between his room and their room. It is ninety-two. He counts it every time. It keeps him calm.
He's almost thankful that they shaved his hair short last week. Big guy liked to grab it and pull back his head if he "misbehaved". Seeing the silver strands hit the ground meant nothing to him. His looks never bothered him and when he sees a rare mirror, a gray gaunt preteen looks back at him. It doesn't matter, he tells himself, it simply doesn't matter anymore.
That is just another part of this living nightmare.
They would probably do a physical today, he thinks. He wonders what he will look like in the mirror this time. If the winged woman he's been hallucinating will be behind him in the reflection again. Sometimes he can even hear her whispering nonsense in his ear.
His brain counts the ninety-second tile. His shoes scuff against the floor as he stops outside the examination door. It is good. Something remains the same. He's grateful for it.
"Not today dumbass." Big guy shoves him. He has to aim to hit a wall so he doesn't fall entirely. The impact stings but he pushes off before the soldier gets the pleasure of dragging him back to his feet. Uncertainty fights in him before he forces it to wink out.
They break routine as they go past the examination door. He doesn't look behind him. Big guy keeps one hand on the link between his handcuffs and the other wrapped around his upper arm. Sephiroth's weight is on his heels. His brain continues to count tiles. A hundred and fifteen of them have passed now.
The smooth walls say nothing to him. Big guy's breath goes faster and Sephiroth's muscles start to tighten. Big guy is expecting a fight, he realizes, but a fight over what? This could be his chance. They could be leaving this floor of the complex. If that happens, he would run away as fast as he could.
He tries to prepare himself for it but reminds himself that the truth is he is probably going nowhere.
They walk parts of the complex that he hasn't been to. It all looks the same. Sephiroth only knows it is different because of a dead light bulb and the scrapes on the walls. On the two hundred and fifth tile, Sephiroth finds his answer.
They stop at a door labeled "Exposure Lab".
Fear locks his throat. He resists as big guy tries to push him forward. A burning buzz is in the back of his head as if the mako is already in him. He can't. He can't do this again. The reasons why are not entirely clear but he can feel their outward dangerous shapes in his mind.
He's so absorbed in his thoughts that he doesn't see the slap coming. It rings his entire head. Big guy hits him in the ear and it vibrates deeply. It loosens his feet as he hunches forward. The door opens into a small room. He stumbles in. The equipment squatting in the middle of the room clicks in him instantly. The compressor, the dark tube feeding in and out, the shushing sounds it makes as it mixes air with mako, everything is so familiar. The only difference is the clear tube running from the back of the machine. It glows green as it runs to a huge holding tank that takes up most of the back wall. Inside, liquid mako moves with lazy bubbles.
The treatment table sits next to the respirator with a pillow and blanket that look like afterthoughts.
Landon stands next to one of the scientists that he's come to know. He's furious.
"This was off the table," Landon yells at him.
The door clicks behind him. Sephiroth stops. His chest is tight. He can't breathe. The room smells like dirt after a deep rain or the dry leaves in fall. He can't do this. The soldier doesn't fight him as they watch the conversation.
"It is one of the last steps," the scientist responds, "it has been approved."
"This will destroy him. Seven hours is leth-" Landon's voice is frantic.
"Enough of this nonsense." The scientist turns away. He looks at Sephiroth like he always does, something that he can break down into numbers and parts. Sephiroth barely notices. He has drifted away from his own body. Seven hours. Seven hours of exposure. He's about to have seven hours with a machine pumping poison into his unconscious body. It's too much. It is too dangerous.
"Careful kid. Make smart choices here," big guy whispers in his ear and Sephiroth feels the edge of something metal press into the small of his back. Sephiroth can't breathe anymore. That gun is aimed directly into the softness of his stomach.
The weapon is supposed to bring him back to reality. Part of Sephiroth knows this but it doesn't. It snaps him in half. He's endured so much. He's given and given and this is how they pay him back. They are going to take away everything. He remembers the numbing burn in his body as he almost died in the snow a few months ago. He couldn't find home. He couldn't remember where he was. He had crawled back from that inch by inch, rebuilding himself again.
Now they are going to force him back there at gunpoint.
He can't do it.
It doesn't matter the consequences.
Sephiroth moves. He yanks his bound wrists free of big guy. His left leg crumples, dropping him towards the ground and out of the initial range of the gun. He is frenzied. This is not one of his planned escapes. He needs to get away, even if it is just leaving this room. He'll take the consequences for that. Shouts echo out around the room. Everything moves faster than his thoughts.
He stretches on the floor. His hands come under his feet and in front of him. A hand grasps his shirt, yanking him back. He rolls away. Another clings onto his ankle making him twist further away from the door as he turns. Sephiroth is more alive than ever as he kicks at the scientist holding his leg. Something cracks. The fingers let go. Sephiroth rolls onto his chest and pushes up with his hands. His shoes scrape against the tile. He struggles back to his feet.
The gun hasn't gone off. Big guy won't shoot him. They both know it now. Sephiroth staggers as he tries to find his place. The green mako light frightens him as he realizes he is even closer to it than he was before. The room is indistinct with fear. He tries to remember how many people are in the room. The big guy runs towards him, the butt of his gun poised to smash into him if he gets close enough. Landon stands frozen. The scientist's face is bleeding as he rubs it.
Sephiroth spins trying to find the door. He needs to get out. Maybe they will think about what they are doing and stop. He can't go back again. He would rather die. Leave everything here and go away. Sweat sticks to his back. The sight of the door makes his heart leap. It is across the room. He needs to get there.
Big guy rams his gun at Sephiroth's head.
He clasps the top of his skull. Sephiroth scatters back across the tile, tangling in his own limbs. He can't concentrate on the pain. He pushes off the ground again. The soldier swears at him in colorful combinations how he was an idiot and a child. Hot blood rolls down the side of Sephiroth's face and tickles into his ear.
His feet wobble and he barely dodges the oncoming train of the soldier. The room totters. Sephiroth breaks into a run for the door. The scientist shouts something about a sedative. That makes him run faster and he slams hard into the metal door unable to stop himself. The doorknob drives the air out of his lungs. Lunch seizes up his throat but he swallows.
His handcuffed hands clamp around the door handle and twist.
Locked.
The door is locked.
The door is always locked.
Sephiroth gasps and it comes out in a cry. He can't do this. He tries it again. The knob doesn't move at all. The blood moves down the front of his face and he blinks. His eyes burn. He puts his foot up and yanks at the door. It creaks but doesn't bust.
Big guy is on him again and he writhes away. Sephiroth manages to jab him in the side and the guard staggers back taking raspy breaths. Sephiroth flounders and falls into a metal chair. Now the scientist comes with something deadly in his hand. Sephiroth does the only thing he can think to do. He stands, grasps the folding chair and slams it hard against his attacker. The impact jars him but the man doubles over before falling backward. The glass part of the syringe breaks and spills sedative all over the floor.
Sephiroth is shaking and frantic. The door is locked. What is he supposed to do? He wipes his slick face and stares at the red handprints that he now makes on the chair.
The chair is slippery in his hands but it is his only option. He takes a few steps back and starts hammering the doorknob with it. The metal clangs but the knob jumps slightly. He can smash it off and then open it. He glances on an upswing. Landon is still motionless in the corner across the room.
It doesn't matter, Sephiroth tells himself, that man has failed him.
The chair comes down.
The knob is at an angle now.
The big guy straightens. Now he is properly mad.
The chair comes down again.
The knob crackles in response.
The big guy levels his gun.
This time he puts it to his shoulder and aims down the scope.
Sephiroth can't stop his escape. He won't. Tears come to his eyes. He slams the chair down again.
A chirp interrupts both of them and then without any other warning, the mako container in the back explodes. Safety glass cuts Sephiroth's arms. Mako gushes out onto the floor. The air fills with the sickeningly sweet smell of the planet. The scientist on the floor doesn't move.
Sephiroth lowers the chair. He keeps looking at the empty container hoping that it is his imagination. It's not. His shoes feel wet. It's over. Even if he can break the door down, the exposure has started. The glowing liquid flows smoothly across the tile. A warmth takes the back of his head like an old friend.
Sephiroth is numbly pushed out of the way. The big guy's keycard makes the light green but the knob is too broken to open. The soldier cries out and pounds against the door. Sephiroth stumbles away, his feet sloshing through the water. It's not cold. The water is warm as it soaks into him. A buzzing is in his ears. He wipes his face again. The stinging is fading already. Drops of blood fall off his fingers and disappear into the green. The mako is in him, smoothing away the fear like a wave of exhaustion before a long nap. He wants to be afraid. He wants to fight but the stillness grows stronger than himself.
"I'm so sorry."
He turns floating towards the voice. The glowing mako throws everything in strange shadows. The room is beautiful light green and the air is misty. Landon wades through the water. He's wobbling to one side. The big guy's pounding grows faint and then there is a splash as he collapses. Sephiroth takes another breath. He isn't far behind them.
"I'm sorry," Landon says again, "I wouldn't have agreed to this. I didn't know."
Sephiroth's feeling is gone in his hands. He snuffs. He can't speak. Only weak anger is in him and even that is fading.
Landon takes another step and his leg collapses on him. He falls onto a table and coughs against it. Already he's sliding off. The water soaks through his pants. He struggles to stay upright. His brown shoes look pointless in the green water.
It's over. Sephiroth knows that. It takes special equipment to come into a room with mako. It will take too long. He'll be gone by then. The air condenses with mako. Little droplets are forming on his nose.
Seconds disappear.
He finds himself crouching, up to knees in the water. The mako washes away all emotions. It soothes. His hands cup the water. It's transfixing and beautiful. The glow is so strong that the edges of his fingers look transparent. He's not sure how much Cetra he is anymore but even without the blood of the ancients, he can hear the song of the planet.
Landon whimpers and is quiet.
The song weeps deeply in his head and he understands. This is the blood of the planet taken away from its source. It is lost from itself, only fragments of memories and pieces that cannot fit together. The song fills him the same way that a bloody sunset calls to him. It is the end of something, the day is leaving with one more flash of light. It is temporary, beautiful and vast in the world.
Sephiroth struggles to his feet. Mako is supposed to burn although it doesn't feel like it matters. His feet trip against the water and the floor as he goes to the nearest table. The planet drags against him, willing him to collapse but he delays the feeling one more time. Putting his hands on the table, he hauls himself up.
Then his energy disappears. All he has left is to lay down, fold his arms, rest his head and fall asleep.
Our boy finally gets to hear the planet!
Please toss your hate at me.
Thanks for reading as always -Quin
Also I want to welcome A on as my beta. I'm so thankful to have them in my life. They are an amazing writer in their own right who writes hilarious AGS skits on Twitter (AngealLovesYou).