Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Restful Death ❯ Chapter Two ( Chapter 2 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: LittleMouse 
Non Anime: Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Hentai / Angst | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 07.25.2006 | Pages: 4 | Words: 2.4K | Visits: 723 | Status: Work In Progress
Non Anime: Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Hentai / Angst | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 07.25.2006 | Pages: 4 | Words: 2.4K | Visits: 723 | Status: Work In Progress
CHAPTER TWO
words in << ... >> are words in electronic messages
FYI - ‘gil' is money in Final Fantasy, Death Penalty is the name of Vincent's gun; also I'm
not sure I got the city names right but I'm too lazy to look them up right now. If they're
wrong, I'll fix them next time I post.
Vincent took careful aim along the gun site, watching as the group of people below him milled
around the campfire, laughing and talking. They were a tourist group, out of Costa del Sol,
on a trip to see ‘famous sites of the last Battles.'
In other words, they were idiots.
These places were dangerous.
Very dangerous.
He held his breath for a long, gentle second, then relaxed and squeezed the trigger.
Death Penalty roared, and a crouching beast on the far side of the campsite exploded in a mess
of blood and fur.
The tourists screamed and darted around and Vincent rolled his eyes.
Really, they were *idiots*! Anyone who looked could see the remains of that beastie, there was
no sense it acting like they were under attack! He stood, slung the gun over his shoulder, and
started drifting down off the hillside.
Even with the downside of protecting idiots, this was a good job. For him, anyway. It wasn't
like he was leading the group; he'd been hired to protect it from the Mako-infested creatures
that roamed these canyons. He got a pretty bounty for each one he shot, and mediocre wages for
tagging along after the group, making sure nothing and no one attacked them.
There were bandits in these hills, too.
More idiots - why would anyone *willingly* live among these deadly creatures?
He didn't have a problem, of course. He was far more deadly than any of the monsters he hunted.
More of a freak, too, but he kept out of sight. So that wasn't a problem. The people he
protected knew he was there, they'd been told he was there - but they rarely caught a glimpse
of him and that was the way he liked it.
He'd been forced to abandon the red cloak while working - it showed up too brightly against
the barren wasteland of these canyons. He'd spent the few gil he had before he took the job
on a long, greyish-brown coat instead, used strips cut from the hem to tie back his hair. Now
he blended in with the darkness, invisible unless he wanted someone to see him.
He hadn't wanted that, yet.
He reached the deceased Mako-beast and knelt, looking it over for a convincing trophy to turn
in at the bounty office. It looked like a very large dog, all snarling teeth and claws, Mako
eyes still glowing green even in death. Its head was too big to carry around - this trip had
three days to go - but one of the feet with the six-inch bladed claws would work very well. He
used his own claws to slice it neatly off, then scrubbed the blood away in the sand. Unslinging
a small, padded box from over his shoulder, he packed it away in dry ice along with half a dozen
other gruesome trophies.
"Val! Val, was that you?" The guide of the little tourist group, an obnoxiously cheerful man
named Sam, called out from the flickering firelight. Vincent, knowing full well that his name
was on the list as a ‘war hero' - pppft! - had shortened it to ‘Val, just Val' when he signed
up for the job.
"Yes," he said quietly, knowing his voice would carry in the sudden stillness. Sam must have
got the idiots to shut up.
"Good." The tour guide moved closer, peering at the carcass in the dark. "Oh, hey, that's a
big ‘un! Gonna be a rich man, Val, you keep this up!"
"Sam?! Is that our mysterious protector?" A feminine voice called from the campsite. "Do
bring him in so we can finally meet him!"
Sam peered questioningly at Vincent, who had very nearly flinched. "Wanna go in? Got some
pretty females on this trip." He leered slightly.
Vincent shook his head. "There could be more of them - I need to circle the camp, make sure."
"Oh, right. Yeah, do that. Don't want no problems like Guthrie's Classic Tours had. Moron
didn't hire nobody to watch, had three tourist eaten first trip out." He shook his head and
started moving back toward the camp, calling out an answer to the inquiring voices.
Vincent sighed with relief and slid back into the darkness.
*
Cid Highwind grinned down at the empty coffin.
He *knew* Tifa was a liar.
Despite the fact that it had taken him days to find the hidden chamber, he was completely
pleased that Vincent wasn't inside this box. The thought of anyone - but especially Vince -
sleeping for eternity made him sick to his stomach.
Of course, now he had to search all over the Planet to find a certain red-cloaked gunman - but
it was better than dragging him out of this coffin and trying to convince him not to crawl back
in. He glared down at the metal rectangle for a moment, wondering if he should just destroy it
and be done?
No - there was always the future chance that Vincent would freak out and try to get back into
this place. As long as the coffin was here, Cid would know where to come looking first.
Speaking of looking... He'd start with Midgar II, move on to Costa del Sol...
Cid left the crypt and moved back up the stairs, mentally listing the cities he would search.
The Planet wasn't *that* big. Vince had to be somewhere. Wouldn't be easy for someone with his
looks to hide. Even if people forgot he was beautiful, there was always the ruby eyes and the
golden claw. Vincent might hate those features, but they didn't bother Cid.
And they were sure going to come in handy, now.
*
Cid left the ShinRa mansion and went back to the Highwind. He'd been able to park it nearby -
the entire place was deserted. He didn't blame people - it was creepy here even in bright
daylight.
The communications console next to the Pilot's chair was flashing a frantic red light. He
frowned and pressed a button, wondering who would be sending him a message? Most people had
no idea he'd left Rocket Town.
<< Cid! >> Shera's voice filled the cabin and he scowled, almost hitting the ‘delete' button
without listening to what she had to say. Ah, well, maybe he should let it play. Once. It
might be about business.
<< Cid, you need to call me! Your friend Cloud came by looking for you, and as soon as he left,
that girl Tifa came by looking for *him*. What's going on, I thought he was the friend you were
going to help? Is there something else going on? Are you in some sort of trouble? You know
you can always depend on me to...>>
Cid growled and hit the delete button. Annoying woman - like she could help him out of the
kind of trouble he usually got into! And the whine that had entered her voice during those
last sentences had set his teeth on edge. If she'd been here, he might very well have hit her.
He'd never struck a woman in his life, but Shera was jumping up and down on his last nerve.
Had been for the past two weeks. He'd had enough of her constant hovering behind his right
elbow, the badly-cooked meals she prepared, the half-assed seduction attempts she kept trying.
Why couldn't she find some nice boring guy who wanted a nice boring wife and settle down? And
stop chasing after him when he'd made it clear - to everyone *else* in Rocket Town, at least -
that he wasn't interested.
Never had been, never would be.
People had gone from avidly watching what might become a romance, to feeling sorry for Shera,
to shaking their heads sadly when they saw her heading for his house. Some of them had started
making gentle fun of her - Shera only stared at them, with not a clue what the teasing was for.
He was going to stop thinking about Shera now. He was gripping the armrests so hard they were
creaking.
He had a friend to find - maybe two friends.
What was up with Cloud?
*
A motorcycle pulled up at the ShinRa mansion about five minutes after the Highwind had lifted
off. The rider pushed his goggles back into his spiky blond hair and stared at the patterns in
the dust.
The big plane had definitely been here.
Beautiful blue eyes, glowing slightly with Mako energy, lifted to look at the mansion. Had Cid
found Vincent, taken him away?
There was only one way to find out. He got off the bike and went inside.
*
Vincent reached the little shack he called home now and felt relieved. Another tour over, a
nice bounty collected, and three days to spend as he wished before the next tour started. Sam
had asked him if he wanted to come into town and celebrate with the other guides, all of them
ready to blow their earnings on whiskey and women. Vincent had carefully worded his refusal,
made it sound like he had pressing business when really all he had to do was turn in his
trophies for the gil.
The tiny house he'd found was about a ten minute walk outside Costa del Sol, but it might as
well have been in the middle of nowhere. Thanks to a nicely situated hill, you couldn't see
anything of the city except for a glow in the sky late at night. Vincent, who'd always valued
his privacy and did so even more now, liked the place very much.
The shack had taken some work - he'd been able to get it at a ridiculously low rental price
because of that, but a weekend with a hammer and a stack of boards bought at the local
lumberyard had fixed it up nice enough for him. He didn't require anything fancy. Just a
roof that didn't leak, a bed to sleep in, and someplace to wash up. The shack had contained
a cot and a rusty old stove - he'd bought blankets and stove black and that was very nearly
all.
It was more than enough.
He put away his earnings in their hiding place and stretched out on the doorstep, since the
cabin didn't have a chair. The sun was just setting, lighting up the small hills and valleys
with shades of purple and red.
It was nice, just sitting here, watching. No battles, no enemies sneaking up on him, no
scientists with needles and dark coffins.
Just air, and soft light, soothing balm to his rumpled soul. On evenings like this, even the
Chaos that tormented him inside was quiet, still. He rarely even thought of Lucretia - she'd
been his sole focus while in the coffin, but outside of it his memories of her were growing
dim.
Perhaps if she'd loved him, in return, he wouldn't allow her to slip away. But she hadn't,
she'd loved her work, and perhaps even Hojo, and treated the love he offered like it was some
childish crush.
And he wondered, sometimes, if she hadn't known what Hojo planned to do to him...
No. Lucretia might have been fixated on her research, to the point of allowing Hojo to
impregnate her with an experiment, but she'd been a kind, caring woman and she would never
agree to... to...
He shuddered, and forced his mind away.
He had to go back to the city tomorrow, pick up some supplies. It had been too late to get
them by the time he collected his wages. All the stores had been closed, leaving only the
bars open. He had no desire to visit them. He needed a stash of food put back for the days
the weather was bad, needed a few extra shirts and another blanket wouldn't hurt. And the
stove kept smoking a little no matter what he did to it; he was fairly certain that it needed
a new stovepipe.
He kept thinking over his list until the last of the shuddering faded away.
*
The shopping took longer than he had intended - he'd left for town at noon and it was
approaching dark when he got back to the shack.
There was something different about it - his sense went on high alert. He set the crate of
supplies down carefully and slung Death Penalty off his shoulder. He used his foot to push
the door open - *that's* what was different, it had been unlatched and open a crack - and then
swung inside, gun ready.
A familiar form was sprawled over his cot, with a familiar grin on his face, and a *very*
familiar voice called out mockingly, "Hey, *Val*, long time, no see!"
words in << ... >> are words in electronic messages
FYI - ‘gil' is money in Final Fantasy, Death Penalty is the name of Vincent's gun; also I'm
not sure I got the city names right but I'm too lazy to look them up right now. If they're
wrong, I'll fix them next time I post.
Vincent took careful aim along the gun site, watching as the group of people below him milled
around the campfire, laughing and talking. They were a tourist group, out of Costa del Sol,
on a trip to see ‘famous sites of the last Battles.'
In other words, they were idiots.
These places were dangerous.
Very dangerous.
He held his breath for a long, gentle second, then relaxed and squeezed the trigger.
Death Penalty roared, and a crouching beast on the far side of the campsite exploded in a mess
of blood and fur.
The tourists screamed and darted around and Vincent rolled his eyes.
Really, they were *idiots*! Anyone who looked could see the remains of that beastie, there was
no sense it acting like they were under attack! He stood, slung the gun over his shoulder, and
started drifting down off the hillside.
Even with the downside of protecting idiots, this was a good job. For him, anyway. It wasn't
like he was leading the group; he'd been hired to protect it from the Mako-infested creatures
that roamed these canyons. He got a pretty bounty for each one he shot, and mediocre wages for
tagging along after the group, making sure nothing and no one attacked them.
There were bandits in these hills, too.
More idiots - why would anyone *willingly* live among these deadly creatures?
He didn't have a problem, of course. He was far more deadly than any of the monsters he hunted.
More of a freak, too, but he kept out of sight. So that wasn't a problem. The people he
protected knew he was there, they'd been told he was there - but they rarely caught a glimpse
of him and that was the way he liked it.
He'd been forced to abandon the red cloak while working - it showed up too brightly against
the barren wasteland of these canyons. He'd spent the few gil he had before he took the job
on a long, greyish-brown coat instead, used strips cut from the hem to tie back his hair. Now
he blended in with the darkness, invisible unless he wanted someone to see him.
He hadn't wanted that, yet.
He reached the deceased Mako-beast and knelt, looking it over for a convincing trophy to turn
in at the bounty office. It looked like a very large dog, all snarling teeth and claws, Mako
eyes still glowing green even in death. Its head was too big to carry around - this trip had
three days to go - but one of the feet with the six-inch bladed claws would work very well. He
used his own claws to slice it neatly off, then scrubbed the blood away in the sand. Unslinging
a small, padded box from over his shoulder, he packed it away in dry ice along with half a dozen
other gruesome trophies.
"Val! Val, was that you?" The guide of the little tourist group, an obnoxiously cheerful man
named Sam, called out from the flickering firelight. Vincent, knowing full well that his name
was on the list as a ‘war hero' - pppft! - had shortened it to ‘Val, just Val' when he signed
up for the job.
"Yes," he said quietly, knowing his voice would carry in the sudden stillness. Sam must have
got the idiots to shut up.
"Good." The tour guide moved closer, peering at the carcass in the dark. "Oh, hey, that's a
big ‘un! Gonna be a rich man, Val, you keep this up!"
"Sam?! Is that our mysterious protector?" A feminine voice called from the campsite. "Do
bring him in so we can finally meet him!"
Sam peered questioningly at Vincent, who had very nearly flinched. "Wanna go in? Got some
pretty females on this trip." He leered slightly.
Vincent shook his head. "There could be more of them - I need to circle the camp, make sure."
"Oh, right. Yeah, do that. Don't want no problems like Guthrie's Classic Tours had. Moron
didn't hire nobody to watch, had three tourist eaten first trip out." He shook his head and
started moving back toward the camp, calling out an answer to the inquiring voices.
Vincent sighed with relief and slid back into the darkness.
*
Cid Highwind grinned down at the empty coffin.
He *knew* Tifa was a liar.
Despite the fact that it had taken him days to find the hidden chamber, he was completely
pleased that Vincent wasn't inside this box. The thought of anyone - but especially Vince -
sleeping for eternity made him sick to his stomach.
Of course, now he had to search all over the Planet to find a certain red-cloaked gunman - but
it was better than dragging him out of this coffin and trying to convince him not to crawl back
in. He glared down at the metal rectangle for a moment, wondering if he should just destroy it
and be done?
No - there was always the future chance that Vincent would freak out and try to get back into
this place. As long as the coffin was here, Cid would know where to come looking first.
Speaking of looking... He'd start with Midgar II, move on to Costa del Sol...
Cid left the crypt and moved back up the stairs, mentally listing the cities he would search.
The Planet wasn't *that* big. Vince had to be somewhere. Wouldn't be easy for someone with his
looks to hide. Even if people forgot he was beautiful, there was always the ruby eyes and the
golden claw. Vincent might hate those features, but they didn't bother Cid.
And they were sure going to come in handy, now.
*
Cid left the ShinRa mansion and went back to the Highwind. He'd been able to park it nearby -
the entire place was deserted. He didn't blame people - it was creepy here even in bright
daylight.
The communications console next to the Pilot's chair was flashing a frantic red light. He
frowned and pressed a button, wondering who would be sending him a message? Most people had
no idea he'd left Rocket Town.
<< Cid! >> Shera's voice filled the cabin and he scowled, almost hitting the ‘delete' button
without listening to what she had to say. Ah, well, maybe he should let it play. Once. It
might be about business.
<< Cid, you need to call me! Your friend Cloud came by looking for you, and as soon as he left,
that girl Tifa came by looking for *him*. What's going on, I thought he was the friend you were
going to help? Is there something else going on? Are you in some sort of trouble? You know
you can always depend on me to...>>
Cid growled and hit the delete button. Annoying woman - like she could help him out of the
kind of trouble he usually got into! And the whine that had entered her voice during those
last sentences had set his teeth on edge. If she'd been here, he might very well have hit her.
He'd never struck a woman in his life, but Shera was jumping up and down on his last nerve.
Had been for the past two weeks. He'd had enough of her constant hovering behind his right
elbow, the badly-cooked meals she prepared, the half-assed seduction attempts she kept trying.
Why couldn't she find some nice boring guy who wanted a nice boring wife and settle down? And
stop chasing after him when he'd made it clear - to everyone *else* in Rocket Town, at least -
that he wasn't interested.
Never had been, never would be.
People had gone from avidly watching what might become a romance, to feeling sorry for Shera,
to shaking their heads sadly when they saw her heading for his house. Some of them had started
making gentle fun of her - Shera only stared at them, with not a clue what the teasing was for.
He was going to stop thinking about Shera now. He was gripping the armrests so hard they were
creaking.
He had a friend to find - maybe two friends.
What was up with Cloud?
*
A motorcycle pulled up at the ShinRa mansion about five minutes after the Highwind had lifted
off. The rider pushed his goggles back into his spiky blond hair and stared at the patterns in
the dust.
The big plane had definitely been here.
Beautiful blue eyes, glowing slightly with Mako energy, lifted to look at the mansion. Had Cid
found Vincent, taken him away?
There was only one way to find out. He got off the bike and went inside.
*
Vincent reached the little shack he called home now and felt relieved. Another tour over, a
nice bounty collected, and three days to spend as he wished before the next tour started. Sam
had asked him if he wanted to come into town and celebrate with the other guides, all of them
ready to blow their earnings on whiskey and women. Vincent had carefully worded his refusal,
made it sound like he had pressing business when really all he had to do was turn in his
trophies for the gil.
The tiny house he'd found was about a ten minute walk outside Costa del Sol, but it might as
well have been in the middle of nowhere. Thanks to a nicely situated hill, you couldn't see
anything of the city except for a glow in the sky late at night. Vincent, who'd always valued
his privacy and did so even more now, liked the place very much.
The shack had taken some work - he'd been able to get it at a ridiculously low rental price
because of that, but a weekend with a hammer and a stack of boards bought at the local
lumberyard had fixed it up nice enough for him. He didn't require anything fancy. Just a
roof that didn't leak, a bed to sleep in, and someplace to wash up. The shack had contained
a cot and a rusty old stove - he'd bought blankets and stove black and that was very nearly
all.
It was more than enough.
He put away his earnings in their hiding place and stretched out on the doorstep, since the
cabin didn't have a chair. The sun was just setting, lighting up the small hills and valleys
with shades of purple and red.
It was nice, just sitting here, watching. No battles, no enemies sneaking up on him, no
scientists with needles and dark coffins.
Just air, and soft light, soothing balm to his rumpled soul. On evenings like this, even the
Chaos that tormented him inside was quiet, still. He rarely even thought of Lucretia - she'd
been his sole focus while in the coffin, but outside of it his memories of her were growing
dim.
Perhaps if she'd loved him, in return, he wouldn't allow her to slip away. But she hadn't,
she'd loved her work, and perhaps even Hojo, and treated the love he offered like it was some
childish crush.
And he wondered, sometimes, if she hadn't known what Hojo planned to do to him...
No. Lucretia might have been fixated on her research, to the point of allowing Hojo to
impregnate her with an experiment, but she'd been a kind, caring woman and she would never
agree to... to...
He shuddered, and forced his mind away.
He had to go back to the city tomorrow, pick up some supplies. It had been too late to get
them by the time he collected his wages. All the stores had been closed, leaving only the
bars open. He had no desire to visit them. He needed a stash of food put back for the days
the weather was bad, needed a few extra shirts and another blanket wouldn't hurt. And the
stove kept smoking a little no matter what he did to it; he was fairly certain that it needed
a new stovepipe.
He kept thinking over his list until the last of the shuddering faded away.
*
The shopping took longer than he had intended - he'd left for town at noon and it was
approaching dark when he got back to the shack.
There was something different about it - his sense went on high alert. He set the crate of
supplies down carefully and slung Death Penalty off his shoulder. He used his foot to push
the door open - *that's* what was different, it had been unlatched and open a crack - and then
swung inside, gun ready.
A familiar form was sprawled over his cot, with a familiar grin on his face, and a *very*
familiar voice called out mockingly, "Hey, *Val*, long time, no see!"