Awesome, look, I'm attempting to post my second fanfiction pretty well a year after I wrote and posted Saviour. It's like magic, magic I say! Yeah...
Disclaimer – Obviously I don't own any of the original Final Fantasy 7 characters, and such… though I do wish I owned Vincent nod, nod P
Anyhow, this is going to end up a Vincent/Yuffie, as well as a Cid/Shera, and Cloud/Tifa, so if you really, really don't like these pairings, either skip the parts with them, or turn back now p. Constructive criticism is appreciated, tell me what you think. Alright, I'll stop my generally useless rambling now, and get on with the story ;)
All my Life – Foo Fighters
All my life I've been searching for somethin'
Somethin' never comes, never leads to nothin'
Nothin' satisfies, but I'm getting close
Closer to the prize at the end of the rope
Hector stared down at the needle, observing the deep amethyst fluid as it waited ever so patiently in the tube, just waiting for it to be injected, so it may do its work. Oh, and what marvellous work it would have. This rich violet fluid, this was his creation, his baby. He had created it, nursed it, and moulded it to perfection. Dear, sweet, perfection.
Yes, this simple liquid was his life's work, and he'd bet his life that it worked, literally. He'd spent so long creating it, and did nothing else. He barely made time to eat, and only slept when he was on the verge of passing out. This little creation would fulfill his life goal, and he wouldn't mess it up, like Hojo did with Jenova. That fool.
He was a real nutcase, everyone knew it. He'd talked to him one or twice, and they shared their views on science. Indeed he was a real psychopath. Hector wasn't a psychopath, no, just a scientist. A bit eccentric, true, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. He was passionate about his work, more passionate than Hojo ever was. He didn't hate Hojo, despite how much he mentally bashed the man, in fact he nearly envied him for the creation of Jenova, despite the fact that it was a failure.
Well, not exactly a failure, but for god's sake, that puny group--HURRICANE was it? No, AVALANCHE, yes, that's it. Well anyway, that puny group of mere humans destroyed both Jenova and Sephiroth, mind you, they were both his experiments. Hell, the puny group even ended up murdering him in the end. How pathetic.
He waved away his thoughts, and his grip on the fragile needle tube tightened, very slightly. He wouldn't risk cracking it, not after all this time.
"Soon, my dear experiment. Soon you'll have your time to shine," he muttered, caressing it with his free hand, fingertips just brushing against the cool tube.
He growled at himself suddenly, disgusted at his sudden affection for his experiment. If he continued to act like this, talking to a mere liquid and caressing the tube as if it were his lover, he'd surely be considered a psycho. He was no psycho, he couldn't be.
He had never been a psycho, and those people, those people who had called themselves his family, and his friends, they had backstabbed him. They all betrayed him, and they regretted it, oh, they did. He could just imagine their screams, echoing through the room, hoping that someone would help them. Idiots, little did they know, no one would help them. They had been trapped, and he finished them off, and he was glad he did it. There was no remorse for the things he'd done, and there never would be. They deserved what they got.
He inhaled the warm laboratory air, filling his lungs to the hilt one final time. It was time to stop dwelling on the past, and move into the future, to actually test out his experiment. No, not test out, for that suggested he wasn't sure what the outcome would be, and he knew what it would be. He'd spent years and years researching the outcome of the experiment alone, but still, a lot of it was only theory.
He sighed to himself, and simply slid the needle into his left forearm, allowing his dominant hand to inject the amethyst fluid. As soon as it was all in, he pulled out the needle, and tossed it on the table next to him, ignoring the sudden crack of glass he heard. It didn't matter, not anymore.
He gasped, as a flicker of pain coursed through him, shooting up his spine. It was momentary, but it was incredibly painful. A gasp of pain escaped his lips as there was another course of pain, this time it lasted longer. The virus was taking over him, everything, his body, his soul, his spirit, his very being.
He laughed coolly, knowing that his body was dying and that his experiment was reacting just as he predicted it would. He continued to laugh even as the pain became so intense that tears began to burn his jade eyes.
His laugh came to a sudden halt as the pain was too intense to even make a noise, sounds were caught in his throat, like a robin in a cage, fluttering, hoping to be released. Little did they know that they would never be free, that they would be caught in the prison of his throat forever. His world went black before they could be released.
His body hit the ground, but his poisoned soul was no longer there. It had since left the shell of his body. It was on its way to the Lifestream, the planet's life source, energy source. Everything was going according to plan, just as he knew it would. Everything would work out, it had to. It had to.