Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Obsession ❯ One ( Chapter 2 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VII or its characters.

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The manager and the janitor both paused from their conversation when they heard loud noises of glass breaking soon accompanied by thuds of furniture hitting the floor.

The janitor a man around his early twenties and relatively new to the job, took out the set of keys dangling from his jean pocket and went to approach the room to investigate; when a hand landed on his shoulder stopping him.

Turning to face his manager with a frown and a quizzical expression on his face, he was answered with a shake of the head and a “Sometimes its best not to meddle with other peoples affairs” He frowned deeper at what his employer said before deciding it was better to follow the advice of his superior. Looking at his manager who had a somber expression on his face he nodded and they resumed their walk although now it was done in silence.

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Tifa grabbed the nearby chair and flung it in the general direction of the bed.

Ever since she found out the identity of her latest fuck buddy. Only one thought had permeated in her head.

Kill him.

But in order to do that she needed her premium heart. And to get it she needed to find her clothes fast. She remembered she had tucked it in her skirt pocket during the fumbling process of their nighttime rut.

Good one, Lockheart. Way to fucking go.

Which leads us to now, her chucking whatever things she could get her hands on at him as a means of distraction; all the while looking for the clothes they had discarded. So far she had been abe to find her panties, bra and top the only thing missing was her goddamned skir--there!

Racing to the couch she lunged and grabbed the skirt lying on top of it and rolled on the floor; hiding underneath the wooden coffee table as a shield in case of gunshots. When she had pulled on the skirt in place she opened her pocket zipper and automatically put on her gloves, standing in one fluid motion with a battle charged aura surrounding her fully completing the ensemble.

Only to find her supposed opponent lounging in a chair at the dining table armed with a cigarrette stick in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other.

When he noticed her stare he placed the bottle in the table and turned to her. Casually holding up a cigarrette in his hand as an offering he asked “Want some?”

To which she replied with a growl and in a blink she was upon him. Grabbing his left hand which had been oh so casually holding his stick she twisted it in an opposite angle making the bone break while reaching for his neck and slamming it on the mahogany table so hard it split in two.

So much dust from the wood splinters flew that it momentarily made her unable to see his face in between the table. Slamming him again when he still didn't respond she turned him around so his chest faced upwards and straddled him with her legs. She leaned forward so her face became parallel to his. Satisfied when she saw blood dripping from his temples matting his silver hair she grinned and released the hand holding his wrist and placed it in his neck together with her other one with the intent of choking him to death.

This was so easy.

Just a squeeze and his air supply would be cut off. A flick of the wrist and the neck could be snapped.

Tifa frowned.

It wasn't supposed to be this simple.

“What are you waiting for?” His hoarse voice called out in the silence. It was meant to be a taunt but it came out pained and weary instead. When she had still yet to make a move he opened his eyes and grinned at her frown. “What's the matter Tifa? Why the hesitation?” Grinning even wider when the hands clutching her neck squeezed harder he closed his eyes ready to succumb to the sure death awaiting him. It didn't matter if he died.

If it was what she wanted fine.

He didn't have much left here anyway.

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He had stumbled here after the explosion of the final battle took place. Bleeding profusely he had rode out with his bike and came upon this dank motel. Renting a room was simple enough when a gun was pointed in the face. He opened the door to the room the owner indicated not surprised to find dust already floating in the small space. He was used to places such as this.

They didn't have much money so they couldn't afford anything without stealing or killing for it.

They were experiments.

Who would hire a fucking experiment?

They could get rich if they wanted. Filthy rich. It wasn't that hard killing people after all. That's what they were made for. But what would wealth and material objects bring? Not a fucking thing.

It wouldn't make the emptiness of living a life with no purpose any less empty.

It wouldn't make the stares of people any less painful.

So when they stole and killed it was only for the cause of bringing back Sephiroth and finding mother. At least finally…

Finally.

Life had meaning.

They would have their family back now. Every thing would be all right.

But then again with his luck he should've known fate would have other plans.

Kadaj…Loz…His brothers. The only family he had they were all gone.

He should've seen it coming. They should've finished those goddamned Turks. If they did they wouldn't have meddled in the fight with Cloud. If they hadn't believed Rufus when he said he didn't know where mother was they could've found her sooner. There wouldn't have been an explosion in the tunnel and they could've helped Kadaj fight Big Brother but they didn't.

They believed them when they said they didn't know.

They left them alone when they thought it was meaningless to kill them if they truly didn't know anything.

They fucking believed them.

Laughing out loud at the irony of it all, tears unknowingly spilling in his eyes. He laughed till his laughter died down into a chuckle. How pathetic. Everything was so fucking pathetic.

Stumbling to the bed he sneezed at the dust coating the covers, and laid there till exhaustion kicked in. Yazoo closed his eyes and slept.

That was how he was supposed to spend his remaining days on the planet. The plan had been to moon and rot in this motel until his body was finally taken back in the lifestream.

Then on one night of boredom while casually looking through the blinds he saw it.

He saw her.

Tifa Lockheart.

He remembered her as one of the group fighting against them with Cloud. Loz had mentioned to him and Kadaj once about the fight they had on the chapel.

He said she was beautiful.

Her form. Her power. Stance. Every thing was perfect.

It was like she had a purpose.

Every blow she delivered was wholeheartedly done without hesitation or regrets.

Loz had mentioned that if their causes didn't clash and they weren't enemies he would've asked for her number. He grinned. Kadaj had teased him endlessly about that particular comment while he supplied with snide remarks of “Why would she want a crybaby like you when she could have someone like me?”

Curious now as to why a person like Tifa Lockheart would enter a place like Muse he stood up and took his coat. Shrugging it on he opened the door and walked across the street with the intent of studying her. If he was found well…there wasn't anything to lose anyway. When he reached his destination he paused in front of the door; hand hovering on the doorknob. He wondered if this was such a good idea. He'd never been to clubs but he knew what went on inside. Maybe he should…

His decision was made for him when someone opened the door from behind and pushed him inside.

The first thing he noticed when he entered was the speaker's loud volume and the stale atmosphere. He was reminded of the time when the tunnel they had fought at exploded, with the amount of smoke permeating the air. It seemed that alcoholics and smokers go hand in hand here. Yazoo grimaced. He was never fond of both. Looking around he approached the vacant seat in the farthest corner easily missed by the other customers because of the heavy shadows surrounding it.

Searching the club for a familiar long black hair he concluded, was as equally frustrating as finding a needle in a haystack. Thankfully, unlike other humans he was gifted with Mako eyes allowing him to be able to see despite the darkness. There. He finally found her in a secluded corner almost equal to the one he occupied but less shadowed.

It looked like she had company. A man around what he would guess his thirties with long black hair in a ponytail and a leery grin plastered on his face. A boyfriend? I thought Big Brother? Startled to find that his view of them had been blocked he looked up at the body currently addressing him. The waiter. Shit. He didn't have any money. He didn't even bother to hide his hair. If the Turks ever did one of their rounds asking people with his description he was sure to be found.

“Your order sir?” Squashing down his rising panic he looked down at the nametag perched on the waiter's chest so he wouldn't have to look at him in the eye. If his hair wasn't suspicious enough his eyes were sure to give him away. The nametag wrote John so he would assume to call him such. Thinking quickly he said in the nonchalant tone he always adopted “John, is it? I'll have a glass of vodka with a pint of lemon on it please?”

When no response came he reached inside his pocket for his gun just in case the waiter already knew. He didn't dare look him in the eyes lest he confirm his identity. He knew he was being hunted. The owner of the motel he occupied knew his identity. If it weren't for the threats he placed he was sure to have been reported to the authorities by now. He had ordered the old man to update him every time a Turk visited or some such things to which he was replied with a gulp and a—“Will that be all sir?” Exhaling deeply when the waiter finally answered he grinned at his momentary hysteria and with a smile answered “Yes.”

When the waiter finally left he started when he found Tifa and the man already gone. Standing up to see above the heads of the people in the dance floor he finally found her pushing the back exit open with one hand on the door and the other clutching the grinning man's shirt. Quickly blending in the shadows before the waiter came back he ran in feather light footsteps with the intent of following them. They were headed to the motel. His motel.

What is she--?

They were crossing the street. Crouching behind a dumpster he waited for the sounds of footsteps to abate in case someone might turn back and spot him standing there. When the footsteps were far enough he glanced up to find them approaching a room two doors next to the room he occupied. Quickly standing up and sprinting after them when he saw them enter; he frowned.

What would someone like Lockheart want in a place like this and with a man like that no less?

Picking the lock open on the door next to the one they entered he was relieved to find the room empty. Then closed it quietly after entering. He wouldn't have to threaten any more people tonight. Less hassle. Placing both palms on the wall he knew was adjacent to their room, he felt his way till he found which one the sounds were coming from.

Stopping he leaned in placing his ear on the wall to listen. Eyes widening at the sounds he placed his whole body closer and listened more carefully in case he heard wrong.

Were that...moans?

It didn't sound like the kinds of moans he was used to either. No, it wasn't painful moans when they interrogated or tortured someone for information it was more like…Like what? The answer was just there but he couldn't seem to grasp it.

Looks like he'd have to see it to identify whatever caused the woman to moan like that. Feeling inside his pant pocket for the swiss knife Loz gave him last year for his birthday, he grinned in triumph when he finally found it. Flipping the sharpest blade open he stabbed it in the wall as gentle as he could so as not to make a noise and turned it in a circle. When it was finally finished he placed his thumb on it and gently pushed. Stilling in case Lockheart might hear he waited.

When it looked like they barely even noticed from the moans he heard he flipped the blade back into place and placed it again on his pocket. Stepping closer so that he could lean his body on the wall he placed an eye directly on the hole to see what went on the other side.

What he found however, was an image that would forever be seared in his mind.

There on the bed was a body of a naked Tifa Lockheart lying on top of the long haired man whose ponytail had come undone and equally naked as well. Silently gasping at his discovery, he found that he was thankful the wall supported his weight because if it weren't he was sure to have fallen over in shock.

“More…” she moaned “Faster”. Stunned at the discovery he wanted to look away but found he couldn't. He knew what they were doing of course they had heard men. Bad men usually drunks, tell stories about these when they were on the streets looking for a place to sleep.

And so he watched through everything.

At first he couldn't explain the feeling he got but then it started to become an ache.

A need.

It was like he needed something but he didn't know what. The days at the hotel following composed of him watching through the blinds waiting.

Waiting for her to appear.

Then he would follow and watch. It continued like this for awhile till he finally found what he thought he needed. When he tried imaging himself to be in the place of the man she was fucking he found that it was good.

It was oh, so good indeed.

It was like an addiction, this sin of hers.

Until even in the daytime he would wait outside the bar she owned just watching, waiting for even a single glimpse of her. He soon found she lead double lives.

One for Cloud and her family.

And another one for the night. Just for herself.

He followed her when she had the urge to go to clubs again and watched her do it with other men. Till one day he finally snapped and he couldn't take it anymore.

He needed to have her.

So he schemed and he planned.

And now it came to this…

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When the weight of her body pressing down on his disappeared he slowly opened his eyes and blinked. She was standing by the window looking out at the club across the street. “Nice view” she commented. Slowly sitting up he turned to face her. It looked like her whole attention was in the view in front of her but he knew better. She wasn't one to lower her guard and so was he.

At least that was when he still had his life to guard.

“It's the only one I have” he finally answered. When she looked away to face him she sighed at the picture he made. He looked so…

Tired.

Tifa knew she had much at stake if she continued to let him live knowing what he knew. She assumed he probably saw her entering the motel and decided she was an easy fuck. It didn't matter if he thought that lowly of her though. The opinion that mattered most to her was only one that belonged to her family, friends and that of Cloud.

It was the reason why she always made it a point after her trysts to threaten her partner not to blab about this after they step out the door. But now…

Of all the people to fuck and find out about this it just had to be Sephiroth's fucking clone.

Not only would Cloud never forgive her. Even her friends she thought, would probably shun her and never speak to her again. Hell, she could go to jail for this. What with the Turks always visiting the pub…sometimes even Rufus himself came to have a chat.

Still…

She could be many things but there was one thing she would never be able to do.

Tifa Lockheart wasn't a murderer.

She might have killed for the purpose of getting rid of the bad guys causing suffering to the people of Midgard, but she was never one to kill just for the sake of covering up one's dirt.

She was so screwed.

Vigorously rubbing her face at her predicament she took a deep breath and exhaled. Approaching his sitting figure on the floor she crouched till she was eye to eye with him and gave him an even stare. Endless black pools clashed with swirling mako green.

Nobody spoke for awhile till her sharp voice broke the silence “I don't know you. And you don't know me. This never happened. Speak about this to anyone and I will make sure you suffer to the point where death is a blessing.”

She was so serious he almost smiled but thought better of it. After all, he changed his mind. He didn't want to die…yet.

Especially, since it looked like things were about to get alot more interesting.

Leaning in so their breaths mingled he smiled and spoke a whisper of “As you wish” before pressing his lips to hers.

As expected a hit landed on his head sending him smack down to the floor. Pain exploded in his temples for awhile that when he opened his eyes white spots appeared in his vision because of the impact. Yazoo groaned. Loz wasn't kidding. She sure had one hell of a punch. When the pain subsided enough to allow him to open his eyes, he looked around only to find her gone. The only indication of her prescence was the sound of the front door swinging shut. He smirked. That was fine.

If you think you can get rid of me that easily think again.

Standing up he went to approach the medicine cabinet in the bathroom for some much needed pain killers. His body felt like the exact state it had been in when he arrived here.

Painful as hell.

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