Diabolic | By : OokamiKasumi Category: Final Fantasy VII > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 866 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Diabolic
By Ookami Kasumi
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Ten
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The night sky over the wastelands was veiled in stars and the moon just a delicate curve of brightening silver rising in the east.
Vincent leaped upward from cliff edge to cliff edge, stretching his wings with each upward leap until he reached the top of the red sandstone bluff. Stones crunched under his armored boots and soft dust swirled with each step. Below him, in the canyons to either side of what was left of the main highway, the dustbowl desert was already showing signs of returning green. The world was coming back to life, even here.
He turned to look back at the glimmering lights of the crater-city of Midgar. The city’s new mayor, Reeve, had gotten the city’s power running again, to some degree. Cid had said something about super-pressure steam engines being used to power the turbine reactors -- water power. It was old-fashioned, but the lights were back on and that’s all anyone really cared about. Life was returning to normal.
Vincent snorted. Good for them. He had other concerns. He turned his back on the half-lit city and considered the horizon. It wasn’t that he was in any great hurry to discover who might be a good host for Sephiroth, he just figured that as long as he kept moving he’d be reasonably safe from the ghost’s attention. He smiled. Catch me if you can.
So, where to begin?
He looked to the north-west. He knew of only one place in the world where the early ShinRa records might still exist. It was the one place he never wanted to see again, yet the one place that he kept returning to – Nibelheim.
With a deep sigh, he opened his arms wide and called forth the other side of his soul, the one made of utter darkness. Black lightning danced under his skin then expanded to wrap around his entire form. In a glorious rush of expanding power the change came upon him.
Briefly he wondered what happened to the clothes and armor he wore when he did this. Strangely, they were always in perfect order when he changed back. It was just another one of those odd personal mysteries that seemed to have no answer. Unfortunately there was no one to ask, or even discuss it with. No one knew he could do this, except for Sephiroth.
He shook his head briefly. He didn’t want to think about the ghost.
Armored, horned and clawed, he launched into the sky heading north-west on broad wings darker than midnight. All three crimson eyes were wide open to view the currents of the wind.
Surfing the rising air flows, his wings oaring the tides of shifting winds with casual ease, his mind calmed and his heart eased. Peace came upon him.
He crossed the inlet sea of the northern passage at its narrowest point. On the south-western tip of the second island, he found a cliff-side cave large enough for his monstrous form. The cave was occupied by something large and mostly natural, but the beast was hungry from its flight. Sated by flesh and soul-fire, the beast curled up deep in the cave and rested through the daylight hours.
Nightfall came and the beast turned its three scarlet eyes westward. It launched into the sky for another night flight, this time across the open northern sea. The ocean winds were far stronger and the flight swifter. Even so, he reached the eastern continent roughly a few hours before dawn.
There were too many small towns dotting the coast to rest without being seen, so the beast continued inland, flying high over the bright lights of Costa Del Sol, almost due west toward the Corel mountains.
Dawn was pinking the sky when the beast reached the rolling foothills of the mountains and landed in one of the greater forests. It found another meal, somewhat larger and less natural. It ate with relish and nested among some fallen trees. Completely sated, it slept deeply through the day, the night, and the following day as well.
Night came and he launched into the sky, stretching his wings over Corel’s steep fjord cliffs and deeply shadowed river valleys. Far below, cliff-side towns glimmered in their tiny spider webs of lights.
Another cliff cave, another meal, another rest, and then further west, toward the tall and jagged snow-peaks of the Nibel Mountains.
The cold was fierce but the beast barely felt it. What it did feel was hunger. The few creatures that lived among the mountain’s heights were small and fairly natural, barely touched by the magic the beast needed to feed on.
A long and slender, rather middle-sized ice dragon flew out from a banked glacier. It blazed with power.
Too hungry for caution, the beast went after the dragon.
The dragon’s cold blasts did little harm against the beast’s armor, but it was a clever hunter. For all that it was only a quarter of the beast’s mass, the dragon was blindingly swift and ferocious. It dove close on its tiny wings, slashing with its long jagged teeth and ice-tipped claws.
Although larger and far more powerful, the beast was not nearly so maneuverable. If it could catch the dragon, it would kill it fairly easily, but catching the swift sleek dragon wasn’t so easily done.
The dragon’s serrated teeth ripped long tears in the beast’s heavier wings and its ice-tipped claws dug between the beast’s armor plates into soft tissue.
Howling the beast twisted sharply and slashed with his sword-length claws, scoring one of the dragon’s small wings.
The dragon screamed and looped around, swiftly wrapping its slippery body around the beast. It tightened, constricting, entangling the beast’s clawed arms and legs, and interfering with the beast’s wings.
Bound together, they crashed into a cliff side.
The beast grabbed onto the cliff, and twisted hard. It caught the dragon with its massive fangs and bit down with bone-crushing force. The fight ended and the fare proved to be finer than expected. The dragon’s soul was rich with power.
During its rest, the tears in the beast’s wings and the deep stabs from the dragon’s claws healed closed, but heat fired the beast’s blood. During the following night’s flight its heart began to labor and its joints began to ache. Flight proved difficult and tiring.
Vincent felt the heat running through the beast’s body and realized that the dragon’s claws had carried poison. He would live through it, poisons did little lasting harm, but he would need a safe place to sleep off the effects, and soon.
He continued his flight across the night sky, determined to reach his destination before the rising fever forced him from the sky.
***
On a rocky outcropping, the beast panted in exhaustion while steam curled up from its black scaled armor. Nestled in the deep valley below was the dark and completely deserted town of Nibelheim.
The beast snorted in derision. The original town had been utterly destroyed along with the town’s reactor in a massive conflagration. Less than a year later, the town had been entirely reconstructed; stick by stick, a perfect replica. It was the largest cover-up operation ShinRa Corporation had ever done. They’d even employed actors to replace the missing citizens.
After the reactor’s final collapse, they hadn’t bothered to rebuild. The near destruction of the civilized world had erased the need for a false town.
Everyone was long gone and the entire town had fallen into utter ruin. The fabricated buildings, unlike the originals, had not been made to last. Many of them had collapsed completely revealing the cheaply-built plaster-board inner structures that had supported the false plaster-brick facades.
The beast lifted its horned head. The largest house at the far edge of town still stood, though it showed signs of wear as well. Apparently that house had not been made of cheap materials.
If the beast could have smiled with its long muzzle it would have. Of course the ancestral house of the ShinRas would not be made cheaply. Too many secrets still hid deep in its basements.
Among those secrets was the information Vincent was looking for. The information was probably badly out-dated, but that was perfectly fine. What he was looking for was far from current.
The most current files were all locked away neck-deep in code in the ShinRa mainframe back in Midgar. The computerized archive was sealed in the highly protected bomb-sheltered sub-basements of the mostly devastated ShinRa tower. Only the new ShinRa president could access that information.
However, the original paper files had all been stored here. Vincent was damned sure no one had ever moved the monstrous archive. The town’s second devastation had happened so fast, there had not been time to do more than flee with what one could carry. Jenova and the fate of the world had taken everyone’s interest after that.
Vincent wondered if Rufus ShinRa, the brand-new president even knew that this storehouse of information was here. The old president and the long since deceased original vice president, Rufus Alphonse ShinRa had known about this place, but this Rufus was very young. Most of his father’s deepest secrets had not yet been shared before the old president’s assassination – by Sephiroth.
Vincent knew because this was where he had been assigned when he had still been a suit-wearing Turk for the ShinRa Power and Electric Company, a very long time ago.
Back then, the old president, Rufus’s father, had still been a young man and very new to his position. Rufus Alphonse had still been in college, though everyone knew it was inevitable he’d inherit the vice presidency from his father. Many had gone to Rufus Alphonse for jobs and favors. One of whom had been Lucrecia Crescent, Rufus Alphonse’s first cousin and Vincent’s first love.
Vincent heart twisted just a little. He looked away.
Off to the south-east and up on the cliff-heights, the pink of dawn tinted the jagged and blackened crater left from the destruction of the town’s energy reactor. Below the reactor had been the labs. Vincent shuddered, and the beast shuddered with him. He had no interest in going anywhere near that.
The beast turned away from disintegrating town and climbed higher among the jagged cliffs. It had flown as far as its feverish body could. It was time to rest. All else would have to wait.
***
Deep in a cave very close to the mountain’s summit, the beast slept but it did not rest. The air and land smelled too familiar, reminding it of the pain and grief that had accompanied its creation. Tormented by dreams, it writhed in distress, filling the cave with its feverish heat.
Day passed, night fell, and the fever still raged.
It groaned through dreams of raging fires and distant screams all colored by a red haze, as though it viewed the world through a thin layer of blood.
A whispered name slashed through the dreams, a summons that could not be denied.
The beast awoke. Clumsy with exhaustion, it left the cave and foundered into the blowing snow. A familiar scent on the wind led the beast upward to the mountain’s summit and the bright glow of the one who had called.
A star-bright hand caressed the beast’s over-warm brow. “Sleep, sleep, my pet and let me have your other half.”
The beast groaned and complied, releasing the other half of its soul sealed within.
Vincent felt the beast give way, releasing him into his human shape. The change burned through him, taking the last of his strength. He groaned and dropped to his knees in the snow. Panting, he frowned up at the tall winged man with flowing silver hair. His long black leather coat flapped in the snowy wind. He blinked. “Sephiroth?”
Sephiroth’s silver brows furrowed and he frowned. “Vincent, you look like shit.”
Vincent very nearly smiled. “Thank you, I feel like shit.” He sighed and fell over into the nice soft snow right at the dark angel’s feet.
***
The whisper of a page turning startled Vincent out of a deep sleep. The sound had been very close to his ear. That’s weird. Even more odd, was that he was curled up on his right side against something long and warm, and rather solid. The pillow under his right cheek was somewhat hard. He opened his eyes and discovered that his cheek was in fact resting on someone’s thigh. He could see a pair of leather-clad legs crossed at the ankles and stocking feet at the end of the bed.
Wait a minute…he was in a bed?
Vincent shoved up onto his elbows, only to collapse on his back under a wave of bone-weary exhaustion.
Sephiroth leaned over him. He wore a plain black turtleneck tucked into his black leather pants, and his silver hair was pulled back into a neat tail that draped over his far shoulder. A book was in his hand. His brows lifted. “Ah, you’re awake.”
Vincent frowned up at him. “Sephiroth?”
“You said that last time.” The dark angel snorted. “What a terrible memory you have.”
Vincent looked around the shadowed room and frowned. He didn’t recognize a single thing. Other than the bed he was on and the battered dresser partially draped with a gray sheet up against the opposite wall, the room was pretty much bare. The steeply pitched walls weren’t even finished, just bare wood struts. There wasn’t even a carpet.
On his left, the two floor-to-ceiling dormer windows were without curtains and showed blowing snow. On the right a glowing ball about the size of a man’s head floated about a foot from the floor radiated heat and soft yellow light. Beyond the glow was a plain wooden door. “I think I agree with you. I don’t remember being here at all.”
Sephiroth contemplated the book in his hand. “I don’t see why you would. You were unconscious when I brought you here.” He turned a page.
Vincent struggled to sit up. “And where is here?”
“One of the attic rooms of the ShinRa mansion.” Sephiroth shifted his legs, crossing his ankles the other way. “I simply could not find your campsite.”
Vincent groaned with effort but finally succeeded in sitting up against the bed’s headboard. “The beast doesn’t need a campsite. I was sleeping in a cave.” He noted his armor-less but gloved left hand, then noted that his gambeson and his shirt were also missing. Ah crap… He lifted the covers he’d been tucked under for confirmation. “I’m naked.”
Sephiroth rolled his eyes. “You have an entire house at your disposal and you fell asleep in a cave?”
Vincent dropped the covers and scowled. “An entire house rigged with Gaia only knows what kind of traps or electronic surveillance.” He crossed his arms. “Why am I naked?”
Sephiroth nodded absently. “Yes, I know all about the traps, which is why I entered by way of the roof, and why we are currently ensconced in the attic.” He turned a page.
Vincent scrubbed his hands down his face. “Okay fine, whatever…” He crossed his arms. “Now, would you kindly tell me why I’m naked?”
Sephiroth set the book down on his right side. “Because I was curious …” He leaned over and grabbed Vincent’s wrist, then pulled to stretch the arm out and expose the underside. The veins under Vincent’s pale skin showed clearly as a tracery of bright and angry red. “…As to how far the lines of your infection went.” He scowled ferociously. “Imagine my surprise…” He jerked the sheet down to Vincent’s lap, revealing the angry red lines that traced outward from his chest. “…When I discovered that it pretty much covered you, from throat to toe.”
Vincent sighed. Oh, that. “It’s just poison.”
Sephiroth curled his lip and bared his teeth. “Just poison.” His voice dropped to a deep bass growl. “Oh, is that all?” Black sarcasm dripped from every word.
“It’s from an ice dragon.” Vincent sighed and the sigh suddenly became a yawn. “I won’t die from it.” There really wasn’t much that could kill him. His eyes grew heavy and he eased back down among the pillows.
Sephiroth’s anger dissipated into a frown. “Are you thirsty or hungry?”
“Just…tired.” Vincent wilted further down among the blankets. “I don’t eat normal food.”
“What do you eat?”
The thought to keep his mouth shut crossed Vincent’s mind, but he was just too tired to worry about it. “Life-stream energy, magic, souls…”
Sephiroth’s eyes widened. “I knew you fed on life-stream flows, most magical creatures do, but souls sound difficult to obtain.”
Vincent shook his head, and his eyes drifted closed. “Nope. I can take the whole thing by killing, or just part of it through blood drinking, though the best is by sex.”
“You can drink a soul with sex?”
Vincent yawned hard enough to crack his jaw. “It’s only part of the soul, but it’s the good part, the best part. I get it when they climax.” Vincent had the vague feeling that he shouldn’t be telling Sephiroth any of this, but he was so tired of keeping it all to himself.
“Taking a part of a soul doesn’t kill them?”
“Nope, grows back in three days.” Vincent curled up against Sephiroth’s hard warmth. “Smell good…” Like warm leather.
“I smell good?” Sephiroth chuckled softly. “That’s nice to know.”
Had he said that out loud? Vincent struggled to open his eyes and looked up at the man leaning over him. “Hey, um…” His thoughts suddenly scattered. “Uh…”
“Hm?” Sephiroth’s brows lifted. “What?”
Vincent frowned trying to gather his thoughts again. “Am I passive-aggressive?” He was pretty sure that that wasn’t what he wanted to ask, but it was as good as anything else.
Sephiroth snorted. “You seem rather demonstratively-aggressive to me.”
Vincent had to think that over before he could place what it meant. ”Oh.” He smiled and pressed his cheek up against Sephiroth’s leg. “Well, that’s okay.”
Sephiroth picked up his book and patted Vincent on the head. “Sleep well.”
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