Post by Zyadai on Jul 15, 2006 20:33:44 GMT -5
Vincent finally made his way into the heart of Midgar, the place he had at one time actually liked. Now, everything was different for him. He knew he had sins, sins he could not forgive himself for but he could only remember flashes from his past.
Glancing about him, Vincent noted the statue in the center of the square. Passing it by, he caught sight of a medium sized group of teenagers. From the maniacal grins on their faces and weapons in plain sight, he knew they were planning on an easy kill. Continuing his slow stride, Vincent pretended to be unaware of the group. Even without enhanced senses, he would have heard their cantering. Vincent walked into a dark alley, intentionally leading them there but outwardly showed confusion, pretending he was lost.
Placing his unarmed hand on his chin, he closed his eyes as if thinking. Just as he thought, the man took their chance and sprung. The first man, presumably their leader, strode arrogantly behind him, flipping a kife back and forth between his hands.
Grabbing hold of Vincent's shoulder, he let the bigger man jerk him around. The man's eyebrows rose, obvious confused, when he glimpsed Vincent's face.
"What the hell are you? Are you a guy or a chick? I don't do men and feminine guys are girl thingys, so I really hope you a chick, cause me and the guys ain't exactly in a pleasant mood, sweatie." The man gruffly said. If Vincent couldn't smell his breath, the man would almost seem sober.
"I am sorry to diasappoint you, but I am infact male, and if I were you, I would put away that knife for I have no desire to cause you harm."
The man laughed at Vincent's warning, looking back at the others.
"Look, guys, this girl thingy thinks he's gonna hurt us! Thinks we should be afraid of some queer!" The others joined in, snickering at Vincent. There leader turned back to him, his smile wiped away, replaced with a cold, murderous glare.
"You made us think you were a girl...and now we are out of a good f**k all because you and your little transvestite friends enjoy playing another gender. I am gonna make you wish you never came here, gonna make you wish your momma drowned you at birth, knowing what kinda girl thingy you'd end up to be." Vincent cringed at the man's words about his mother. He couldn't help it, it was just a sore spot for him. The man thought he had hit a weak spot, thought Vincent was as weak as his body looked. After all, he did almost look like a female from the back; although he was tall, his hair was long and he was of slender build.
'Kill them now, or I will do it my way!' Chaos screeched inside his head. The sound seemed to reverbate through his entire being, sending him to his knees. He clutched his head in pain, completely ignoring the men.
"I think he is begging, boss." One of the men close behind the leader sneered.
"He is kneeling in front of us, boys. We all know what happens to weak men, men who dress as women and insult or gender. They die." He said murderously, his eyes glaring down at Vincent.
"That hurt, you bastard..." Vincent mumbled alloud to Chaos.
The man's eyes above him widened in rage.
"Who you calling a bastard, queer? We ain't even started on pain yet, and already you are hurtin' from our words?!? d**n, you are gonna be easy to break..."
"Get away....now....It's not....safe....for you..." Vincent managed through labouring breaths.
"You trying to scare us? It ain't gonna work, pregnant dog! You don't scare us, no one does!"
"You don't...wanna ...die....like this..." Vincent warned. He could feel the change coming on, and already he knew who would come out. The men deserved the warning, if only they would listen.
The man step closer to Vincent, kicking him hard in the ribs. Vincent didn't even try to stop himself from falling to his side. He never even felt the small bit of pain from the kick, the pains from morphing were much more excructiating. Hurting him now would do no good, it would only anger him, only causing him to morph faster.
"Don't do that," Vincent growled, his voice already beginning to change.
"At least, not if you want to live after all this is over..."
The man's eyes turned to slits, glaring down at Vincent.
"If we want to live after this? pregnant dog, we ain't the ones who is gonna be hurtin' after this, you will be." He sneered matter-of-factly.
Vincent ignored the man and buried himself into his cloak, hiding them from the horror of his change. With a piercing scream, Chaos lost patience and took over. He laughed maniacally at the men above him.
"Vincent, you naughty boy, leaving me to clean up this many."
"Whatchyou talkin' 'bout queer?" The man seemed oblivious to the bat wings, horns and other demonic features of the once femanine looking man.
With no hesitation Chaos/Vincent cut through the men as if they were butter. He slashed, bit, tore, anything that gave him pleasure and tore screams from their throats. It wasn't like they were innocents. They were thugs, raping and killing women for their own sick pleasure. If Vincent had instilled one thing into his demons, it was that they were not to kill the innocent.
Satisfied with his handywork, he retreated into Vincent's mind, allowing the morose man control of his body once more.
Vincent wasn't happy with the massacre, but Chaos had been right. Those men had to be stopped. They were criminals and without him, they probably would have never seen punishment for their actions. Still a little unsettled at the extreme way Chaos had dispatched them, Vincent moved to the leader, the only one left breathing. At his approach, the man's eyes went wide with terror but he did not attempt to move, knowing he was too badly injured.
"W-what are you?"
Vincent closed his eyes. Went he opened them, the crimson shown brightly, almost like fire.
"I am a monster." Vincent replied monotonously as he struck, sinking sharp teeth into the man's jugular. Drinking the man's last bit of blood, he detached himself and let the man go cold on the floor. Wiping the stray beads of blood from his chin, Vincent stood and quietly left the alley, as if nothing had just happened.
He knew there was no reason to clean up the mess, only that he had to hide the bite, which he had done. Anybody who stumbled across the bodies would instantly think gang civil war gone wrong, and the women who had survived their attacks would silently pray, thanking god for the men's deaths.
Casually making his way through the dark streets, Vincent wondered how this city had survived for so long. It was decaying, a good number of the people were willing to kill to survive, and they had no laws, and if they did, they had no one to enforce them. It was sad to see such beauty be diminished to this state. Vincent remembered the city before it had begun to fall apart, before the riots and monsters.
It was better then.....but, then again, it would be better now too if he had been able to stop the Jenova Project. It was his fault Sephiroth had gone mad, his fault the man even had to endure Jenova in general. Lucretia had never even told him if the child was Hojo's or his, to this day he still did not know for certain. Granted, it was a greater chance the child was Hojo's but there was a slight chance it could have been his. To think, that a man who could very well be his son, was older than him? Or at least appeared to be older.
Vincent leapt up onto a fire escape, climbing to the roof of the building it attached to. Vincent perched himself on a gargoyle looking statue at the building's corner and stared out into the sky, trying to remember something happy from his past life. He stayed there, unmoving, as if he were comissioned as a part of the statue when it was first placed there. He held that haunting beauty that few men possessed and his position above the streets made him look like some kind of manevolent protector. The kind that killed off evil-doers and protected the weak.
He remained there, staring at nothing in particular, eventually losing track of the time.
Glancing about him, Vincent noted the statue in the center of the square. Passing it by, he caught sight of a medium sized group of teenagers. From the maniacal grins on their faces and weapons in plain sight, he knew they were planning on an easy kill. Continuing his slow stride, Vincent pretended to be unaware of the group. Even without enhanced senses, he would have heard their cantering. Vincent walked into a dark alley, intentionally leading them there but outwardly showed confusion, pretending he was lost.
Placing his unarmed hand on his chin, he closed his eyes as if thinking. Just as he thought, the man took their chance and sprung. The first man, presumably their leader, strode arrogantly behind him, flipping a kife back and forth between his hands.
Grabbing hold of Vincent's shoulder, he let the bigger man jerk him around. The man's eyebrows rose, obvious confused, when he glimpsed Vincent's face.
"What the hell are you? Are you a guy or a chick? I don't do men and feminine guys are girl thingys, so I really hope you a chick, cause me and the guys ain't exactly in a pleasant mood, sweatie." The man gruffly said. If Vincent couldn't smell his breath, the man would almost seem sober.
"I am sorry to diasappoint you, but I am infact male, and if I were you, I would put away that knife for I have no desire to cause you harm."
The man laughed at Vincent's warning, looking back at the others.
"Look, guys, this girl thingy thinks he's gonna hurt us! Thinks we should be afraid of some queer!" The others joined in, snickering at Vincent. There leader turned back to him, his smile wiped away, replaced with a cold, murderous glare.
"You made us think you were a girl...and now we are out of a good f**k all because you and your little transvestite friends enjoy playing another gender. I am gonna make you wish you never came here, gonna make you wish your momma drowned you at birth, knowing what kinda girl thingy you'd end up to be." Vincent cringed at the man's words about his mother. He couldn't help it, it was just a sore spot for him. The man thought he had hit a weak spot, thought Vincent was as weak as his body looked. After all, he did almost look like a female from the back; although he was tall, his hair was long and he was of slender build.
'Kill them now, or I will do it my way!' Chaos screeched inside his head. The sound seemed to reverbate through his entire being, sending him to his knees. He clutched his head in pain, completely ignoring the men.
"I think he is begging, boss." One of the men close behind the leader sneered.
"He is kneeling in front of us, boys. We all know what happens to weak men, men who dress as women and insult or gender. They die." He said murderously, his eyes glaring down at Vincent.
"That hurt, you bastard..." Vincent mumbled alloud to Chaos.
The man's eyes above him widened in rage.
"Who you calling a bastard, queer? We ain't even started on pain yet, and already you are hurtin' from our words?!? d**n, you are gonna be easy to break..."
"Get away....now....It's not....safe....for you..." Vincent managed through labouring breaths.
"You trying to scare us? It ain't gonna work, pregnant dog! You don't scare us, no one does!"
"You don't...wanna ...die....like this..." Vincent warned. He could feel the change coming on, and already he knew who would come out. The men deserved the warning, if only they would listen.
The man step closer to Vincent, kicking him hard in the ribs. Vincent didn't even try to stop himself from falling to his side. He never even felt the small bit of pain from the kick, the pains from morphing were much more excructiating. Hurting him now would do no good, it would only anger him, only causing him to morph faster.
"Don't do that," Vincent growled, his voice already beginning to change.
"At least, not if you want to live after all this is over..."
The man's eyes turned to slits, glaring down at Vincent.
"If we want to live after this? pregnant dog, we ain't the ones who is gonna be hurtin' after this, you will be." He sneered matter-of-factly.
Vincent ignored the man and buried himself into his cloak, hiding them from the horror of his change. With a piercing scream, Chaos lost patience and took over. He laughed maniacally at the men above him.
"Vincent, you naughty boy, leaving me to clean up this many."
"Whatchyou talkin' 'bout queer?" The man seemed oblivious to the bat wings, horns and other demonic features of the once femanine looking man.
With no hesitation Chaos/Vincent cut through the men as if they were butter. He slashed, bit, tore, anything that gave him pleasure and tore screams from their throats. It wasn't like they were innocents. They were thugs, raping and killing women for their own sick pleasure. If Vincent had instilled one thing into his demons, it was that they were not to kill the innocent.
Satisfied with his handywork, he retreated into Vincent's mind, allowing the morose man control of his body once more.
Vincent wasn't happy with the massacre, but Chaos had been right. Those men had to be stopped. They were criminals and without him, they probably would have never seen punishment for their actions. Still a little unsettled at the extreme way Chaos had dispatched them, Vincent moved to the leader, the only one left breathing. At his approach, the man's eyes went wide with terror but he did not attempt to move, knowing he was too badly injured.
"W-what are you?"
Vincent closed his eyes. Went he opened them, the crimson shown brightly, almost like fire.
"I am a monster." Vincent replied monotonously as he struck, sinking sharp teeth into the man's jugular. Drinking the man's last bit of blood, he detached himself and let the man go cold on the floor. Wiping the stray beads of blood from his chin, Vincent stood and quietly left the alley, as if nothing had just happened.
He knew there was no reason to clean up the mess, only that he had to hide the bite, which he had done. Anybody who stumbled across the bodies would instantly think gang civil war gone wrong, and the women who had survived their attacks would silently pray, thanking god for the men's deaths.
Casually making his way through the dark streets, Vincent wondered how this city had survived for so long. It was decaying, a good number of the people were willing to kill to survive, and they had no laws, and if they did, they had no one to enforce them. It was sad to see such beauty be diminished to this state. Vincent remembered the city before it had begun to fall apart, before the riots and monsters.
It was better then.....but, then again, it would be better now too if he had been able to stop the Jenova Project. It was his fault Sephiroth had gone mad, his fault the man even had to endure Jenova in general. Lucretia had never even told him if the child was Hojo's or his, to this day he still did not know for certain. Granted, it was a greater chance the child was Hojo's but there was a slight chance it could have been his. To think, that a man who could very well be his son, was older than him? Or at least appeared to be older.
Vincent leapt up onto a fire escape, climbing to the roof of the building it attached to. Vincent perched himself on a gargoyle looking statue at the building's corner and stared out into the sky, trying to remember something happy from his past life. He stayed there, unmoving, as if he were comissioned as a part of the statue when it was first placed there. He held that haunting beauty that few men possessed and his position above the streets made him look like some kind of manevolent protector. The kind that killed off evil-doers and protected the weak.
He remained there, staring at nothing in particular, eventually losing track of the time.