Other Fan Fiction / Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Distorted Perception ❯ Not the Enemy ( Chapter 6 )

Chapter Six

Not the Enemy

 

Coming back from their single day of farewells and leisure, no one aboard the Highwind felt as though the end was drawing near. Even as they rode the ship towards the Northern Crater, it didn't feel as though the final battle were at hand.

 

Cloud seemed rather aloof, staring vacantly through the viewing windows near the helm.

 

For the occasion Cid had lit a cigar. Far from celebrating just yet, the older blond was simply enjoying a nice smoke.

 

From picking Yuffie up in Wutai, they were making a beeline for the crater. All intelligence told them that Sephiroth was at this location. It wasn't as though the ex-Soldier had kept his activities secret. Sephiroth was angry at the world, with every intention to destroy it. Reigning destruction down on every living being wasn't exactly the sort of vengeful action that could be kept quiet.

 

Solemnly, Cloud stood with his arms crossed and his features set impassively.

 

Cid watched in mild interest as the spiky haired boy stood in silence. They were only a half hour out, and then they'd be going in for the grand finale.

 

Leaning slightly against the wheel, Cid inhaled deeply, enjoying the long drag. It wasn't that any of them thought that this might be the end, but win or lose, their lives were going to change drastically.

 

Vincent was holed up in Aeris' room, searching through the mounds of papers and journals. Since the meeting between the three members earlier, they hadn't spoken of the matter.

 

Cloud had stridden from the room, his stature confident and determined. Vincent had been left bereft with reddened lips that glistened from the kiss the blond warrior had given him. And poor Aeris was left blushing with no idea what to do.

 

In the end, Aeris had contented herself to get some rest. Vincent's presence was actually more soothing to her than bothersome. Whether it was the calming reassurance that her rest was well guarded or the fact that she'd worn herself out entirely, she fell asleep the moment her head touched the pillow.

 

As the morning waned more members of the band filled the ship. Smiles graced everyone's faces before they marked their final destination. However, happy faces became solemn while each fighter contended with the gravity of the finality battle.

 

Vincent was an exception to this general mood. Pouring over scribbled and typed texts, he felt apprehensive and miserable.

 

With any luck, Dr. Hojo would be at the crater. There was a facility there, built by ShinRa. If Hojo were an opportunist, then being near Sephiroth for observations would be irresistible, though none too wise.

 

It had taken Cloud some time to form a plan. They needed Vincent for the final battle, this was unmistakably certain. However, there was too much of a risk that once they killed Sephiroth, Hojo would leave or also die. There was no telling how much destruction Sephiroth would reign down before they stopped him, nor the consequences to anyone near by.

 

**

 

ShinRa must have set up the facility in the Northern Crater a long time ago. While the land structure itself remained a large volcanic crater, the research lab built into the base of it made the place seem like ShinRa's headquarters.

 

After much debate, it was decided that Vincent would split from the group and go after Hojo solo. Cloud had been the most reluctant, not liking the possibility of what could happen. However, the blond leader had played his concern out in strategic terms, focusing on the fact that the gunman was an important force for the final battle.

 

The raven-haired gunman was dropped off at the base of the crater. Cloud watched with an oppressing sense of unease as the ramp began to close. It was only his grim determination to go after Sephiroth that kept him from accompanying the pale gunman.

 

Crimson eyes stared resolutely into the Mako enhanced blue of the swordsman. The airship stirred gusts of wind, sending long dark strands of the vampire's hair about. That long red cloak flapped against the lonesome form standing below.

 

Before the pale beauty could vanish from sight, behind the closed hull, Cloud saw Vincent turn on foot and walk away.

 

The blond definitely didn't like the feeling he had in the pit of his stomach, but there was nothing he could do.

 

 

 

Vincent strode cautiously through the main entrance. The unlocked set of large fifteen-foot high steel doors opened automatically. Sliding into empty slots on either side, seemingly disappearing into the rocky hillside. The change form cobbled ground and misted air to the symmetrically cut corridors of metal was immediate. Out of place, the facility did not belong at all.

 

The gunman's footsteps echoed hollowly through the dim corridors of a monotonous grayish tinge. There was no reason behind the path he chose, other than to move forward and eventually find what he was looking for.

 

It had been a difficult revelation to cope with, learning that Sephiroth was not his son. Thus far, the only sin he knew of committing was murdering Lucrecia and condemning their child to a life of experimentation. However, if the child was not his, then how was the silver haired woman's death his fault? There must have been more to it. There were many lies contained within those journals, which meant Sephiroth might still be his son.

 

He'd considered the spiky blond's words carefully. The idea that it had all been some game to the doctor, that he was innocent. But, if that were the case, then he'd suffered for no reason. That just couldn't be. His life was riddled with blood because of sins he'd committed.

 

And, even if Lucrecia's death was not upon his hands, he hadn't saved her, which was just as bad. The child she'd bore, the crazed killer they sought to destroy, was still a once innocent soul that he'd take vengeance for. Hojo had used Lucrecia's son in an unforgivable manner, wasting the sacrifice she made.

 

Determined to settle the matter, and return to his life of imprisoned repentance, Vincent clutched his gun to his chest. He had to remind himself that he was there on Lucrecia's behalf, not his own. While Chaos cried out for a different kind of justice, he fought back and reasoned that he didn't deserve the privilege of knowing what his sins were exactly. All he needed to know was that he was an evil soul that must atone for the rest of eternity.

 

The further Vincent traveled, the darker his path seemed to become. The only lighting came from spaced safety lights at the sides on the floor. They were dim and seemed to become further apart each time.

 

The gunman was not afraid of darkness, since it was what he was, but if he were to lose his sense of place and delay his time, then he might not be able to aide the others in battle.

 

Never faltering in his gliding steps, the dark cloak sashaying slightly with the subtle movement, Vincent strode on with confidence that even without his help, Cloud could defeat Sephiroth.

 

Eventually, when all light seemed to have slipped away without his noticing, the gunman came to a dead end. For the first time he questioned his choice in direction. Gently running his unmarred hand along the cold metal wall, he leaned his head forward to feel the same coolness against his forehead.

 

Chaos was becoming unruly, more difficult to silence than ever before. The darkness was crying out, shouting for blood and justice.

 

He knew he could not listen to the beast within him. As it was, his sins were so numerous and terrible that a lifetime of atonement was hardly a beginning to achieve forgiveness. And, if he were to listen to the beast, give into the darkness once again, then he'd surely become the devil himself.

 

With a steadying breath, he clutched his gun more tightly and pushed off from the wall.

 

Turning around, he prepared to backtrack and find a new route. However, before he could take a single step, the hiss of compressed air being released echoed through the shadowed hall.

 

Glancing back, he saw a crack in the wall, a sliver of light traveling straight down the center.

 

Defensively facing the wall again, he watched as the split halves parted. The dead end was nothing but a closed door.

 

Crimson eyes narrowed in suspicion. From the almost welcomed entrance at the main doors of the facility to the inviting opening of these ones, he was beginning to wonder how much of this was set up. Someone was obviously watching him, waiting for him.

 

Burrowing his pale face beneath his collar, he proceeded as cautious as ever. His shadowed eyes darted around quickly, taking in as much of the room as he could.

 

There were three large screens at the end opposite his position now. The monitors were angled to face downwards, and long panel of some operating system ran along the wall beneath. There were four anchored chairs, cold and uncomfortable looking just like the rest of the large metallic room. The ceiling was twice as high, running upwards a good two stories upwards, while the walls were spaced apart enough to accommodate the Highwind's girth.

 

The fact that of the four chairs only one was turned away did not escape Vincent's attention.

 

The sudden lighting up of the three large screens set the gunman on guard, causing him to take a step back and crouch slightly. His confused eyes scanned the room frantically as his own image was displayed on those monitors. His disgusting face, ten times the normal size, enough to make a person gag.

 

Uncertain whether the doctor could hear him, perhaps the whole facility was wired, Vincent called out, “Doctor Hojo”

 

In a slightly expected manner, the chair on the far left swiveled around. Reclining leisurely, with his legs crossed was the mad scientist himself.

 

Eyes that Vincent knew were black as coal were hidden behind the glinting lenses of the man's glasses. As the doctor stood from his seat, the white lab coat ruffled with an all too familiar sound. The man was older, much older, but somehow the same. There were a few more wrinkles, but those cheeks were as hollow as ever. The scientist didn't seem to stand as tall, but the feeling of being towered over remained.

 

“Vincent,” Hojo's gruff and unhinged voice spoke in greeting.

 

Vincent felt a fleeting moment of fear as the doctor took a step closer, a booted foot clanking against the grated flooring around the chairs. Fear was not something he'd felt in a long time. When his eyes caught sight of his own frightened demeanor on the screen, he cursed inwardly and furrowed his chin lower behind his cloak. Clutching Peacemaker closer he reminded himself that he was there to kill the doctor.

 

With greasy tendrils of graying black hair escaping its ponytail, Hojo shook his head and frowned at his creation. “I visited the manner recently,” the doctor spoke amicably, though the stern manner in which his squared jaw moved spoke otherwise.

 

Swallowing thickly, Vincent shivered involuntarily. Between the coldness that crept down his spine and the heated rage of Chaos within, the gunman was having a difficult time keeping focus.

 

“You were not where I left you,” Hojo continued, his voice dropping a note.

 

Rooted in place, the crimson-eyed man flinched against the strong surge of Chaos. The beast had never given him so much trouble, not even when he was around the scientist all those years ago.

 

Breathing heavily, Vincent felt his walls breaking down. Angrily, he reacted with the emotions of Chaos. The heavy cloak flapped as he deftly leveled his gun in a flash. His mark was the madman's head. With no question of whether his aim was true, his finger twitched on the trigger. It would seem the darkness within him no longer cared for answers, just blood.

 

“Oh?” Hojo intoned in question of the clawed creature's actions. “I guess you still haven't learned your lesson,” he said in a hinting manner.

 

Gritting his teeth, Vincent's hand tensed up. Without firing, he abruptly lowered the weapon. Controlling Chaos once more, he breathed out an exasperated breath. “I will kill you for what you've done to Lucrecia,” he spoke solemnly.

 

With a scoff, Hojo refuted, “Don't you mean what you've done?”

 

“It wasn't my child,” Vincent reasoned, losing confidence in what was the truth.

 

“Perhaps,” the man admitted. With a yellow grin, he gave off a biting laugh. “But, if you hadn't twisted her heart around, she would have survived.” His words were smooth and soundly spoken, as though teaching the gunman an important lesson.

 

“Twisted her heart?” the gunman questioned automatically.

 

“Yes,” Hojo hissed out, taking a few more steps towards the Turk he'd had so much fun playing with. And it was far from over. All that time spent conditioning the lovely man, was to lead to this day, this moment. Chaos was so close to being ready, to being unleashed.

 

“Shall I take pity on you?” the crooked tooth scientist questioned.

 

Crimson eyes widened. Pity was something he didn't deserve. Hojo often asked if he should be given leniency and pity, but he'd learned to accept what was right. “Never,” he replied quickly, holstering his gun.

 

The doctor began to chuckle, quietly at first but the sound erupted from his throat into a fit of amused laughter. “Always so obedient,” Hojo whispered huskily. Stepping even closer, the scientist drew near enough to touch his wonderful creation. Reaching out, he slipped short, stubby fingers past the silky curtain of raven hair and touched the tortured soul's cheek. “You deserve this,” he said.

 

“Yes,” Vincent whispered, forcing Chaos down and remaining in place. But, he still had to avenge Lucrecia. What did Hojo mean about it being his fault. “Lucrecia-” he began, but a harsh slap silenced him.

 

“You lured her into a life of sin,” Hojo spat. Returning his hand to cup the now reddened cheek, he caressed the soft skin. “With your beauty, you enchanted her. She was blind to your darkness, what you truly are. But, I saw it. I was too late to save her though. She believed she was in love with you, and when she learned of your true nature, the sinful beast that you are, she couldn't bare to live.” Gripping the finely cut chin, narrow and delicate, Hojo squeezed tightly to further grab the creature's attention. Those eyes, that burned with fire and danced with Chaos, spurred him on. “Because of you, she died, unable to even live for her beloved son. And without a mother, how do you suppose Sephiroth was raised? My poor son has been driven mad because of what you've done.”

 

Vincent's heart clenched. He hadn't known. “I didn't know,” he whispered sorrowfully. Earnestly, he looked to the doctor. “It was my fault?” he questioned. All this time, he'd been harboring such hatred for this man who he'd deemed cruel and ruthless. But, it was in fact his entire fault. Hojo had done nothing wrong.

 

“You're a disgusting creature,” Hojo spoke sternly, his jagged nails cut into the succulent flesh of the gunman's cheeks. “Someone needs to control you, to make sure that you pay for what you've done.”

 

Chaos surged. “What have I done?” Vincent asked desperately, wanting to know what atrocities he'd committed.

 

As the doctor's head tilted forward, his dark eyes became visible from behind his glasses. Brows furrowed in anger, he snarled, “Do you think you deserve to know? Do you deserve such pity?”

 

Crimson eyes widened. “No,” Vincent whispered immediately, regretting his lapse in control. “This beast,” he clutched his chest, “inside of me, I can't stop it. I don't want to hurt anymore people,” he tried to explain.

 

Hojo hummed with pleasure. “The beast rages?” he questioned with avid interest, his dark eyes widening.

 

“All the time,” Vincent admitted.

 

A wild grin spread across the haggard looking scientist's face. “Then it's time,” Hojo concluded with a giddy inflection.

 

Warily, Vincent spoke, “Time for what?” His mind was muddled, between the opposing sides within and the realization that Hojo was not his enemy. How could he have been so blind? Dear, sweet, Lucrecia had suffered so greatly because of the monster he was. What a horrible fate for such a loving woman. Without a doubt, he was truly a monster.

 

“I've tried to suppress the darkness in you, calm it. However, I realize that such methods are not effective. I've been too kind with you. I'm afraid I can only resort to having complete control.” Hiding the pleased smile, the doctor turned around and stalked closer to the chairs and control panel.

 

Unsure of himself, Vincent took a few steps to follow. As his arms fell limply at his side, covered by his long cloak, his right hand brushed against his holstered gun. Images of shooting Hojo filled his mind, the want to take revenge rekindling. Red eyes fell sadly to the metallic floor. Even now he was so horrible that he'd kill the one person who knew what he truly was, the one person who was trying to put an end to the terrible things he'd do if let free. Tears swelled in his eyes. He was wretched, harboring such ill will towards doctor Hojo. “I'm sorry,” he whispered.

 

Back turned and hands resting in the pockets of his white coat, Hojo spoke with false sincerity, “No, Vincent. I'm sorry. If I could bring myself to killing you, I would. But, it wouldn't be right, and that would weigh on my conscience. You must repent for your sins, and death would be too good for you. I wish there was another way.”

 

Guilt crushed out the muffled cries of Chaos. Tears streamed down the gunman's face. “No,” he refuted, his voice cracking, “You're too kind. I cannot ask for forgiveness.”

 

“I'm glad you understand,” the doctor said, turning his head away and staring up at the large screens. Seeing such sadness in those watered eyes drove him wild. His pants felt tight. If the beast within the former Turk were raging, then he'd soon become its master. “Now, strip,” he ordered.