Not very long, sorry. But it is an update so I don't feel too bad. Sadly, I was under the effect of the dreaded depression. And as some of you may know, it just sucks your soul dry of any creativity. But I have overcome it for now, and I thought a good torture fest would help. So enjoy, my children. Fill yourselves in the madness of human experimentation. And remember that although I do not own Final Fantasy, you all own a bit of my black, black heart.


Bib, bib. Bib, bib.

The steady beep of a heart monitor rang out from an assortment of machines and equipment surrounding a surgery table. The sound bounced off the sterile white walls, the echo filling the equally white room with hundreds of hearts. At the center of the beating, Cloud slowly rose from the murky depths of unconsciousness. The blaring overhead light cut through his closed eyelids, adding to the other pains that where slowly making themselves known. Mostly the searing pain in his neck and a cold pressure around his limbs were the most noticeable as he woke.

"I see we're waking up. Good," a voice appeared in Cloud's ear, cold enough to make the young man shiver, "I was tired of waiting."

Blue eyes snapped open to find Anders standing over the blonde, a twisted smile on his lips. Cloud could not breathe for a moment, as he saw a familiar cold gleam in this scientist's eyes. Once his lungs began moving again, the blonde started thrashing against the restrains holding him to the table. The restraints dug into his flesh in his ill fated attempt to break free. Despite his best efforts, the straps holding him did not budge.

Anders turned away, allowing the blonde to rip his skin against the restraints. With a loving hand, the scientist ran a hand across a row of gleaming scalpels, "You have no idea how much this will mean to me."

The man picked up a scalpel, "There is so much I will learn," Anders turned, rolling the tool in his palm as Cloud's muscles pushed franticly against the constraints, "Let's get to work, shall we?"

The man struck quickly. It was not the slow motion that Hojo had used in order to relish the feel of the blade separating layers of muscle. This first cut was done in a single fast motion, like an overzealous child ripping into a present. The shock of the sudden attack kept the pain at bay for a moment.

But in the next, the pain was unbearable.

The screams were deafening as they were torn from the blonde's throat. Each cut of the scalpel tore through him like a searing line of liquid fire. Needles were stabbing delicate areas that should never have been revealed to the light of day. Organs and muscles endured hours of poking and shredding as samples of each were stolen by the white clothed devil.

Eventually, Anders grew tired of the sounds of pain and had paralyzed his specimen's vocal cords with a savage jab. Even this unknown cocktail seared its way through Cloud's being, adding to the agony of the rest of his body.

"Facinating," the scientist breathed as he watched the red stained tissue slowly knit back together. He stood for a minute, watching the skin close, leaving a red welt where the cut had been. Eventually, the scientist finished the work the alien cells had started, sewing the skin together. Once the gaping hole was closed, Anders stepped back, his lab coat now stained black with blood. Without another look, he moved to a laptop placed a safe distance away from the splatter that covered the floor with speckles of red.

Cloud saw nothing of this, his glowing blue eyes dulled as he gazed at long dead scenes. All he could see was the sadistic twist of thin lips that haunted his dreams and those long pale fingers that promised so many horrors.

"What shall we discuss today, specimen B?" a voice full of dark pleasure purred into his ear as a ghostly touch of fingertips grazed his cheek. Although he knew that no one had touched him, the muscles of Cloud's cheek still restricted in an attempt to escape the phantom caress. "Let us get back to our fun."

The room suddenly became alive as an erratic beeping overpowered the quite typing. Anders' head snapped up as a steady screech came from the heart monitor flat lined. Swearing, the doctor rushed across the room. Grabbing paddles off of the machine, he pressed a button to send it humming into activity. Pressing the paddles to the pale chest, a current of electricity passed through the battered man, causing the entire body to jump against the restraints. After a sudden jump of the monitor, the steady line and screech continued. Growling, Anders tried again. This time, his work was rewarded with a sharp spike on the monitor.

"Oh, you are not getting out of this that easily," the doctor growled down at the deathly white figure, "I refuse to let you go."


Hours later, Anders stepped out of the once white room with a satisfied air around him. He held vials filled with tissue and nameless liquids as if they were the most precious items in the world. His blood covered clothing had been left behind among the evidence of his pleasant expedition of his specimen's insides. Outside of the doors stood four men waiting for him, two were stood rod straight in their military cut uniforms. The other two stared meekly at the floor.

Anderson glanced at them before moving down the hall. As he moved pass the small group, the doctor barked, "Clean the specimen up and put it in the holding cell. Then clean up that mess."

The man did not pause to see if his orders were followed. His full attention was on the vials of samples that he clutched lovingly in his hands. These samples were a masterpiece left unfinished. The last work of the great Hojo, right in front of him, ready for him to research.

Anders chuckled as he made his way toward the lab, "And it's all mine."


Cloud sat listless against the cold wall of his cell. Pain still flowed through every nerve, pulsing with the beat of his heart. It was not a blinding white pain like before, that threatened to swallow you whole, but an ebbing ache that came and went too fast to follow.

The glow of his eyes never moved from the spot on the floor they were glued to. He did not see the black floor as images of the past.

"Not much changes with these crack pots, do they?" the question slipped into the air smoothly from Cloud's right. Even though he had not heard that voice for so long, it washed over his soul like a soothing balm, "Always the dank dungeon vibe. You'd think that these 'smart' people would be a little more creative."

Cloud slowly turned to look up into the face of a beaming Zack Fair, looking the same as he had before that horrible day on the cliffs. He could almost believe that the Soldier was really there. The older man looked like he had years ago. He could almost believe that he could feel the warmth of Zack's leg near his. But Cloud remembered that face covered with blood, dying in the mud as the rain fell. How the light had left his eyes as they closed for the last time.

That smile warmed his spirit while it tore it apart.

"Hey Kid," Zack leaned against the wall, looking down at the young man. The Soldier slid down the wall, coming to sit next to Cloud without touching, "You got some strange luck, you know that?"

Receiving no reply from the staring blonde, Zack looked around the small cell, "At least you got more room this time. God, those capsules were tiny."

Tearing his eyes off of this ghost, Cloud muttered to the air, "I've gone crazy. . ."

"Maybe a little," Zack shrugged, "But I've always questioned how stable someone was who chose to look like the tail end of a Chocobo."

The joke did not have the effect Zack had been looking for. It was a joke that he could never actually hear again, lost in a hail of bullets. All because Cloud had not been strong enough to help, slowing Zack down so that he could not get away.

Zack watched the blonde's face crumble, "Hey, I'm okay. It happens."

"It should've been me," Cloud mumbled as he stared at the dark floor.

"God, you're so depressing Kid," Zack chuckled. Cloud looked over to see a soft smile, "I'm glad it happened this way, I got to save a friend. And don't worry, I'll be here until we get you out."


No Vincent in this chapter, but I think I made up for it. If you wonder, yes, this will be coming to a close pretty soon. But I will have a bit more Cloud torture coming for my loving fans. Not that I don't love this story, it's just that it is really hard to decide how much to show. Even now, I'm not sure if I showed too much gore for a T story. It makes me hesitate in my writing, and when that happens the writers block can find a resting place in my head.

Anyways, to any of my fans who may have continued following this as well as my new readers, I offer you all hugs. (stretches out blood covered arms to reviewers)