Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Guns and Roses ❯ Beginnings ( Chapter 15 )

Disclaimer: FF VII and all the characters herein belong to Square Enix, except Liana (I made her ^_^). The song is Bring Me to Life by Evanescence.

 

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Vincent leaned his head against the seat, staring blindly at the light in front of him. Hojo's voice continued to echo in his mind. If you change your mind, it's here. He frowned slightly. Just who did Hojo think he was? Some weakling that would easily be manipulated? Fat chance. He blinked back as the light changed, and he continued the drive toward his house. He leaned his elbow against the console, still lost in thought.

 

As much as he wanted to continue to hate Hojo, something was telling him that Hojo had answers. How could he resist if there was a chance a cure could be found? As long as he had waited for death, he was suddenly finding that he wasn't ready to die. As many life times as he had lived, his wasn't finished yet. He wanted to experience growing old, and all the things there were that he had yet to discover about himself. Just as he was physically frozen, so he was in every other aspect. He just wanted to live. Or die. Or something. He was tired of being suspended in time.

 

He looked up, inhaling sharply as the mansion came into view. The first thing he noticed was the way the gate hung slightly crooked on its hinges. He stared blankly for a moment, parking on the curb, before swearing as he stepped out of his car. He stared at the mangled piece of iron, realizing someone had used some kind of ammunition to blow it open. He looked toward the mansion, noting the eerie calm that had settled over it. It looked normal, but he could only guess that something wasn't right.

 

He stepped back to his car, opening the trunk and slowly pulling out a gun holster. He pulled a single handgun from one of the pockets, swiftly and almost innately sliding it open and checking the cartridges. Then he closed the trunk and looked at the dark mansion, feeling a sense of tension and nostalgia settle over him at the weight of the firearm in his hand. He felt a slight smirk drift across his lips, despite the rapid pounding of his heart. Part of him had missed this.

 

He walked slowly up the sidewalk toward the front doors. He let his crimson gaze drift over them, noting that there was no sign of forced entry there. His brain ticked rapidly, and he decided the best action would be to find the intruder's entry point. He turned, leaping over the railing around the porch and landing silently in the grass. He broke into a jog as he rounded the south side of the house. He felt his heart jump slightly as the ground under his feet suddenly began to sparkle in the faint light from the neighbor's flood lights.

 

Kneeling, he gently lifted a piece of the shattered glass to his eyes, turning it slightly. It was coated in a thin layer of soot, which he guessed had come from a gun. He looked up, frowning as he studied the way the glass had fallen. He glanced at the window briefly, then stood. The majority of the glass was in the yard, meaning it had been blow open from the inside. He looked up, toward the roof, his first thought that the intruder had somehow gone in through the roof, before his good sense caught up to him. That seemed a little fictional, even to him. He turned his gaze toward the back, a shuffle catching his ears and making his heart freeze in his chest.

 

He held his breath as a shadow danced along the fence, before disappearing. He breathed a soft curse, before lifting his gun and taking a step toward the iron fence that divided the front yard from the back yard. Instinctively, he turned his back to the house, his eyes trained on the wooden fence that divided his yard from the neighbor's. He watched as the shadow flickered again in the faint light, and he tightened his grip on the gun. He could feel his palms sweating as each shaky step he took brought him closer to the iron gate. He paused on the corner of the house, steeling himself and briefly wondering if the intruder could hear his heartbeat as loudly as he could. He drew a soft breath and closed his eyes briefly. He felt the tension leave his body for a second, and, without thought, he leapt the gate, landing in the grass on the other side with a soft thud.

 

He felt his eyes widen in surprise as he looked around, realizing he had instinctively landed in a crouch, gun at eye level. He glanced around, feeling that eerie calm from earlier submerse him. He relaxed slightly, standing as he looked around the yard, the light from the pool illuminating the yard in a mako-like glow. He lowered his gun slowly, thinking the intruder was gone, when a soft chink caused him to jump. Quick as lightning, he spun toward the sound, only to find himself aiming, and looking, down the barrel of another gun.

 

His breaths became short and ragged as he assessed the man on the other end of the gun. Feeling weak suddenly, he let his own pistol slip from his fingers as his crimson eyes widened in fear. He stepped back, thinking he was about to be sick.

 

How can you see into my eyes like open doors?
Leading you down into my core
Where I've become so numb without a soul My spirit sleeping somewhere cold
Until you find it there and lead it back home

 

“Good evening, Vincent,” the man's silky voice purred.

 

“You,” Vincent whispered, realizing too late that he had let his gun slip from his hand. “What are you doing here?” He straightened, putting on a brave face and crossing his arms. “I thought you were dead.” He could still see Sephiroth's mutilated body in his mind, and a wave of nausea swept him again.

 

Sephiroth chuckled, lowering his weapon and flipping a strand of his silver hair from his glittering green eyes. “If only you had been so lucky,” he said, malevolence shining in his eyes. He raised his gun, cocking the hammer. “I was thinking I would spare you if you came quietly, but nothing would give me more pleasure now than to see you squirm.”

 

Wake me up inside
Wake me up inside
Call my name and save me from the dark
Bid my blood to run
Before I come undone
Save me from the nothing I've become

 

Vincent's gaze narrowed as he realized Sephiroth intended to inflict as much pain as he deemed necessary. He lifted his chin in a defiant gesture. “You would shoot me for the fun of it?” he asked.

 

Sephiroth chuckled. “I believe I would,” he said. His deep green eyes narrowed with seething hatred as he released the hammer.

 

Now that I know what I'm without
You can't just leave me
Breathe into me and make me real
Bring me to life

 

Vincent had almost no time to react, but he dove to the side anyway, knowing it would be impossible to escape the bullet. He felt it pierce his side, shattering some of his ribs and tearing through his flesh as he tumbled to the ground. His instincts took over, and, before Sephiroth could predict his movements, Vincent forced his injured body to leap the iron gate and dash madly back toward his car. He heard Sephiroth pursing him, and he ducked as bullets flew over his head. He was almost to his car when several slammed into the side, damaging the paint and shattering the windows. He paused as he reached it, feeling anger seething inside him.

 

“You bastard,” he growled, staring at the damage. “If I weren't in so much pain, I'd kick your ass.” Another bullet whizzed past him, slamming into the Zephyr, snapping him to attention. Forgetting the car for a second, he yanked the door open and slid inside, pushing the start button, grateful he had it. The tires squealed as he hammered the gas petal, accelerating away from the crazy maniac that had taken up residence in his house.

 

It wasn't until his adrenaline stopped flowing that he finally felt the effect of his injuries. Once he was sure he was far enough away, he had to pull over, the pain fierce and blinding. He fumbled for his phone, noticing the blood covering his hand in the faint light from the street lamp. He grimaced, knowing that the night's events were not being very nice to his car, as the beige leather seats were slowly turning the same color as the paint on the outside. He managed to pull his phone from his pocket, and flipped it open. His eye sight was blurred as he fumbled with the numbers, hoping he had dialed the right ones. He pressed call as he leaned against the steering wheel, fighting to stay conscious. He listened to the phone ring several times, and he held his breath, praying she answered.

 

Wake me up inside
Wake me up inside
Call my name and save me from the dark
Bid my blood to run
Before I come undone
Save me from the nothing I've become
Bring me to life

 

“Hello?” her voice came through the receiver, like a fragile thread of saving light.

 

“Tifa,” he gasped.

 

Frozen inside without your touch
Without your love - darling - only you
Are the life among the dead

 

“Vincent?” her voice was worried. “You sound funny. Are you alright?”

 

“No,” he said, gritting his teeth against the pain. He swallowed thickly, his vision fading. “Listen carefully to me, okay?”

 

“Okay,” she said quickly.

 

“I need you to call the police,” he said slowly, the words heavy and forced from his lips. “There's someone in my house.”

 

“Oh my god,” she gasped. “I'll get right on it. You're not hurt are you?”

 

He tried to laugh, but it came out choked as a coppery taste filled his mouth. “It's just a flesh wound,” he said, feeling the strength leaving his body. “But I need an ambulance.”

 

“Where are you?” she asked, her voice suddenly choked as she seemed to realize that he was lying. At the brief silence, she suddenly became angry. “Vincent, don't you dare die on me!”

 

Her yelling caused him to jump back from the gulf threatening to swallow him up, and he grunted. “A….about a block….” he managed, his chest feeling heavy, as if it would smother him. He coughed more blood, feeling the darkness claiming him. “Hurry…..” He closed his eyes and slumped against the steering wheel, the phone sliding from his bloodied hands.

 

All of this time I can't believe I couldn't see
Kept in the dark but you were there in front of me
I've been sleeping a thousand years it seems
Got to open my eyes to everything
Without a thought without a voice without a soul
Don't let me die here
There must be something more
Bring me to life

 

“Vincent?!” Tifa screamed as the line went dead. “Vincent!”