Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Vicissitude ❯ The Sound of Books ( Chapter 1 )

Vicissitude

 

By: The Heartless

 

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VII, Advent Children, or Dirge of Cerberus.

 

Summary: Vincent is awakened one night by the sound of books—being thrown…from the basement. Venturing down into the basement, he finds him attacked by a vicious creature, only to find that this creature is in fact…

 

Genre: General/Angst (mild angst)

Rating: Teen

Pairing: Hm, maybe…

 

Prologue: The Sound of Books

 

The sounds of books had awakened him.

 

Given the nature of how a book sounds, which is silent, when still—in addition to being largely abandoned and untouched in years, it was very strange.

 

The only person he knew that threw books was Hojo. Generally, when the sad, sad man was upset with their “limited knowledge of the subject,” he began hurling them--as though it were their fault. He knew, because he had seen and heard the books slam into the wall with his own eyes and ears, when he was still a Turk.

 

It was all too familiar.

 

Perhaps even more infuriating than the sound of books was the fact that it was still dark out, the entire town had only recently gone to bed. He had been out for only a couple hours and someone had entered the Shin-Ra manor without his express consent.

 

He growled, annoyed, indignant, and pissed. Pissed as all Hell. Imagine sleeping in your room, on the second floor of a (fairly) large mansion, and hearing the sound of a book, that was thrown, from the basement. The basement.

 

There were so many things wrong with that notion that Vincent Valentine did not know where to begin. Therefore, not knowing where to begin, he went through something he had not been through in years. Simply put the motions.

 

Confusion.

 

There were plenty of reasons to break into the manor, but why would they about it so loudly. Seriously, they are in the basement and they are making enough racket to wake someone up on the second floor.

 

Human stupidity never ceased to amaze him.

 

Slight panic.

 

There was no way in hell, not even with his abnormally heightened senses, that he should be able to hear the sound of a book being thrown. Not books being thrown from the basement of a mansion, all the way up in his room on the second floor (which faced the item shop and hotel of Nibelheim), no matter how decrepit the mansion in fact was.

 

Secondly, nothing should be in the basement. Nothing. Not monsters, not insects or bugs of any kind, and definitely not humans. Who the Hell was in his home, for lack of a better term, rifling through his, also for lack of a better term, belongings.

 

Oh yeah, they will rifle with something…

 

Anger.

 

Someone has trespassed. Someone was looking through information better kept secret, if not at all. Moreover, they were throwing books around. That alone constituted their immediate disembowelment as far as he was concerned.

 

Moreover, they had the audacity to wake him from his sleep. He may not have needed it, but it was no less rude on their part.

 

A call to action.

 

Already, his hands were reaching for his gauntlet, a shirt (so as to appear with some sense of decency, this would not turn into COPs: Nibelheim edition…again), and Cerberus. The Cerberus, prepped and ready, was always close at hand. As it usually did, since his name was Vincent Valentine...

 

-

 

The sound of old, dusty glass beakers breaking under the force of thrown books and falling to the floor (along side many other books and glass shards) resounded through Hojo's lab as he entered.

 

His crimson eyes glared at the newly deepened indent in the paneling of the wall from where several books had smashed against. Another one flew into the room, slamming on the table, only to slide off onto the heap of other books.

 

“What exactly is this…thing, looking for?” Vincent wondered as he readied the Cerberus. Someone was definitely about to “get capped,” as Barret and Yuffie would say to him jokingly.

 

`Its funny because its true,' Vincent thought maliciously, glaring at the inky darkness of the hallway that lead from the lab to Hojo's office.

 

It hit him then.

 

He was not always this slow on the uptake, but one will frequently forget they have enhanced abilities because they themselves do not consider them enhanced. Still, it suddenly hit him that it was dark, too dark. The lights were not even on in the basement.

 

In fact, none of the lights were on, in the mansion, save one lamp in his room. That one, he had hurriedly turned on because the sound of books from the basement being thrown had awoken him.

 

It was completely dark and books were being manhandled. That was never a good sign. In fact, he was sure it was not a sign at all.

 

“Who's there?” Vincent growled out in the darkness.

 

There was no response. Unless one counts a book flying past their face in the dark a verbal response.

 

The dark gunman vainly tried to reach for the light switch in Hojo's lab, before giving up. Only just now remembering it was too far away for his purposes.

 

“When in doubt, go forth,” Vincent whispered to himself, before pausing suddenly.

 

He felt odd. Really odd, as in, not like himself. This whole, entire thing was odd.

 

A deep-throated growl roused him from his thoughts, followed by what sounded like sniffing.

 

“Kkkkaaaooosss…” Ground out an indecipherable voice from the darkness of Hojo's lab.

 

A lithe, feminine form rapidly charged through the darkness towards him, crossing the dark, bookcase lined pathway quickly, swinging wildly. He could just barely see it rushing him in the darkness. However, the intent was perfectly clear.

 

Maim, if not kill.

 

Attempting to push the form back with great strength and effort, Vincent made the choice to drop his weapon to use both hands. Nevertheless, the thing in question was roughly pushing back, its strength greater than his.

 

Therefore, over Hojo's laboratory table he went, knocking over the last of the glass beakers and landing on a pile of books and shattered glass. The thing leapt over the table, intent on mauling him further.

 

Damn it all, the creature moved even faster than he could. It had the advantage in this darkness thanks to its speed.

 

“Kaos,” it growled out seething.

 

Its voice was distinctly female, as it landed on him, viciously clawing at his face as his hands shot up to protect himself. He sneered slightly when he felt something slash through his gauntlet—claws.

 

The female creature continued to frenziedly slash at him with her sharpened claws, as the blood seeped from the cuts on his covered hands. The crimson liquid dripped slowly from his left bronze gauntlet and tried to soak into his right black leather, fingerless glove, before finally dropping down on his face.

 

`Enough,' Vincent snarled, feeling particularly nasty now that he was bleeding.

 

Vincent roughly pushed it away, flinging a shower of glass with gauntlet, hoping the shards would slow the thing down, until he could get Cerberus back.

 

It had worked all to well, as the creature began groaning in pain, collapsing in a heap on the floor.

 

“God damn it, Vincent, what was that for!” It snarled, sounding extremely pissed.

 

Vincent froze, “Yuffie?”

 

“Who else, you ass!” She bit out, collapsing in pain, rubbing at her eyes.

 

“Don't rub your eyes! Stop what you're doing!” Vincent ordered, completely taken aback, rushing to the shinobi's aid.

 

Vincent stopped suddenly, staring at the form of his beleaguered associate.

 

“Yuffie? Is that you?” He questioned, staring at the girl's…markedly different physical features.

 

“Yes, it me…” She admitted, somewhat bashful.

 

Vincent continued to stare. Previously, with all her flailing and swiftness, he had been unable to see her properly...

 

Only a few months had passed since he last saw her. Since the last time he had seen the dark haired girl, with silver eyes, and tanned skin.

 

The healthy, but relatively tiny girl who seemed to have boundless confidence and faith in her ability to get through anything.

 

The one who was dressed in kahki shorts and a violet shirt, with black and blue, knee high socks. The one who's endless energy and eternal youth never seemed to fade, no matter what the situation was.

 

And now, the girl seemed to be a fraction of what she was. She was withered, old age withered to be precise.

 

Her hair was long and white, not unlike a certain silver-haired man, but unlike him, Yuffie's hair held none of its luster and beauty. Her face was pale and gaunt, paler then even his, he could clearly see the larger veins in her face.

 

Her once stormy-grey eyes held no color whatsoever, they were almost indistingiushable from the whites. The skin around her eyes were a searing red, as though she had gotten some sort of rash around them.

 

And she was dressed in a heavy, oversized obsidian robe. Even if black was a slimming color, Yuffie should not look aneroxic in it. If she was tiny before, she was miniscule now.

 

“You look like hell, kid,” Vincent said softly, shaking his head.

 

“I realize that, thanks,” Yuffie remarked snidely, eyes clenched shut, burning.

 

“But first things first! Glass. In. Eyes. HEL-PUH!” The girl declared emphatically, drawling the last syllable.

 

Vincent frowned, but unconsciously nodded, forcing himself to her side to remedy the situation. If things were odd before, they were seriously bizarre now.