Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Guns and Roses ❯ The Devil's Pawn ( Chapter 14 )

Disclaimer: FF VII and all the characters herein belong to Square Enix, except Liana (I made her ^_^).

 

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Hojo set the phone down, secretly wishing Vincent hadn't hung up. He glanced at the shadow that towered above him.

 

“Is he coming?” a voice growled softly.

 

Hojo nodded. “He is,” he said. He stared at the phone on the desk, before standing. “How did you know he would call?”

 

A malevolent grin split the figures face. “I'm certain he's feeling the effects of the degeneration of the mako,” he laughed softly. “And as far as he knows, you have the only answers.”

 

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Vincent's brow creased in irritation as he pulled a t shirt over his head. Why had he called Hojo? He sat on the edge of his bed, taking a deep breath. He was just feeling so tired right now. It was almost difficult to breathe. He rubbed his eyes, wondering what the hell was wrong with him. The only way he could describe it was…well, he was feeling…old, almost. He stood, feeling dizziness sweep him.

 

“Damn,” he breathed, staggering back a step. Once his vision cleared, he walked to the door and slipped on his shoes, before leaving his bedroom. He made his way down to the foyer, pausing and putting his wallet into his jeans pocket. Then he walked to the garage, picking up his keys. He climbed into the Zephyr, started it and left his house. He drove to the run-down end of town, feeling a strange sense of foreboding smothering him. He pulled up to a dark building, which he assumed to be Hojo's lab. Before climbing out, he glanced at the setting sun. Perhaps coming here at this time had been a mistake. The darker it got, the scarier the building looked, and who knew what perverted experiments Hojo had hidden in there.

 

He swallowed his fears, stepping out of the car. He walked to the door, pulling it open. He was surprised to find that it was dark inside, and it smelled musty, as if this building was rarely used. He noticed a faint glow at the end of the hallway, and he walked toward it, hearing his own breathing in his ears. As he neared, an odd smell floated toward him and he wrinkled his nose. He would know that smell anywhere.

 

He grimaced, stepping into a large room. He was not surprised to find that the glow was the soft light the mako let off as it sat, bubbling and oozing, in a holding container near the middle of the room. He looked up, wondering how Hojo accessed the mako. He noticed a crane, with a cauldron of some kind attached to the end. The only access to the controls was by climbing a ladder to a wrought iron landing, where the manually operated control panel sat. He stared at it a moment longer, then a sound made him jump.

 

He instantly turned toward the sound, slipping into a defensive stance. His hand instinctively lowered to his hip, where, normally, a pistol would have hung. His eyes strained in the darkness for any sign of movement. He felt his body tense when a shadow flitted across his vision. He spun toward it, surprised to see Hojo walking toward him.

 

“Ah, Vincent,” Hojo greeted, his smile strained. “Welcome, welcome.”

 

Vincent relaxed his stance, keeping a wary eye on his surroundings.

 

“I see you've noticed my pet,” Hojo said proudly, angling his shoulders toward a shadowed corner.

 

Vincent followed his motion with his eyes, noticing the soft yellow gleam watching them. He shuddered under the unearthly gaze. “What is that thing?” he whispered.

 

Hojo frowned. “That thing,” he said, “is my greatest creation yet.” His graying eyes looked at it. “It's a hybrid of a tiger that I implanted with bat genes to allow it to see in the darkness.” He motioned to the soft black lights overhead. “Thus the dim lighting.” He looked at Vincent smiling. “You're lucky he decided not to eat you.”

 

Vincent scowled. “You set me up,” he hissed.

 

Hojo held up his hand. “Please, spare me the pleasantries,” he said, walking away. “We have work to do.”

 

Vincent stared after him, before sparing a last glance at the monster watching them. He watched it yawn in the dim light, and he caught the gleam of one of its razor fangs. That was the only encouragement he needed. He trotted after Hojo, following him to a desk. Once there, he watched Hojo light a lamp and sit down on one side. He sat across from him, noticing the clutter that covered the desk.

 

“So, Vincent, why are you here?” Hojo asked, leaning back in his chair, ignoring the clutter.

 

Vincent let his gaze fall to his hands, swallowing his pride. “I want you to tell me what's wrong with me,” he said quietly.

 

“Perhaps if you tell me what's the problem,” Hojo encouraged, realizing that this was probably the first and last time Vincent would ever speak humbly to him.

 

“I've been feeling sick a lot lately,” Vincent said.

 

Hojo chuckled. “Perhaps you should see a doctor,” he joked.

 

Vincent looked up, his eyes deadly. “Quit being a bastard,” he said quietly. “This is serious, and you and I both know it. I want you to tell me what you know about the mako. I want to know exactly what is happening to me.”

 

Hojo looked away and was silent for a moment, before standing. “Come with me,” he said.

 

Vincent stood and followed him deeper into the bowels of the laboratory. He could hear the soft cries of the animals Hojo had been experimenting on, and he shivered involuntarily. He watched Hojo stop before a large computer. He punched a few buttons, and the screen suddenly lit up, causing Vincent to blink against the onslaught of light. Once he was able to look at the screen, he realized that he was looking at a digital picture of DNA.

 

“This is what normal human DNA looks like,” Hojo said. He clicked another button, and another image came up. “And this is what ours looks like.” An image of corroded strands and glowing mako began to form. Vincent watched as the mako slowly ate away at the strands of DNA.

 

“And this is what's happening to me?” Vincent asked quietly, feeling the reality set in. “This mako that's made me eternally youthful is now killing me?”

 

Hojo nodded, his face grim. “That's about the measure of it,” he said.

 

Vincent was silent as he contemplated the image. “Can you fix it?” he asked quietly.

 

Hojo was silent as well, before looking away. “Well, a certain stock of a substance called materia has come into my possession,” he said, walking away. He listened as Vincent's footsteps followed him. He paused in front of a chamber, pushing a button on a console. A visor slid back, revealing a supply of small round objects that glowed in the dim light. He heard Vincent gasp softly.

 

“This is materia?” he asked softly.

 

Hojo nodded. “I have reason to believe that it will extend your life some, but you must constantly use it,” he said. “It will make the mako recede some, but I also have reason to believe that the mako becomes resistant to it. Almost like a bacteria.”

 

Vincent scowled. “Is this all you have?” he asked.

 

Hojo nodded once more. “Would you like to try it?” he asked, lifting an orb from the rest.

 

Vincent stepped away. “I think I'll take my chances,” he said, wrinkling his nose at it. He didn't really trust what Hojo said, and wasn't going to risk the consequences.

 

Hojo put it back, then closed the visor. “As you wish,” he said. He turned and led Vincent back to the front of the lab. “If you ever change your mind, it's here.”

 

Vincent nodded, extending his hand. “If I ever change my mind,” he said, shaking Hojo's hand. He was silent for a moment. “I may be back.”

 

Hojo nodded, smiling knowingly. “I know you will,” he said.

 

Vincent stared at him, wondering what the elderly man meant by that, but he shrugged it off. “Goodbye, Hojo,” he said. He turned and walked out of the lab, glad to be leaving the building. As he slipped into his car, he was unaware of the shadow that slipped from the roof, watching him.

 

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“Good work, Hojo,” a dark sultry voice praised.

 

Hojo looked up from his paper at his desk, his eyes fearful. “He'll stop you, Sephiroth,” he said, his voice shaking. “Vincent will stop you.”

 

Sephiroth laughed cruelly. “I'll bet he will,” he said, leaning on the edge of the desk. “Just like he stopped me all those years ago.” He slipped a silver dagger from the darkness. “Just remember, Hojo, I don't need you to finish this, but I do need him. You're lucky I feel compassion for you.”

 

Hojo gulped, watching Sephiroth clean his nails with the tip of the dagger. He prayed silently that Vincent would realize what was happening before it was too late.