A/N: Here is my Halloween special fic, containing three stories with the BBS trio in the place of the three greatest monsters, and there will be some TerQua because I couldn't resist. :)

Warning: These stories contain scenes of blood, but not too much to be considered gore. Just saying... :3

Writer: Terra ForceXIII

~*~ Birth from Darkness ~*~

Novel I: Frankenstein

"I ought to be thy Adam, but I am rather the fallen angel..."

In a small town of Germany, Ansem Frankenstein was regarded as a mad-man, a traitor to humanity, or just a senile old man. His dreams were genuine, his ambitions reached divinity, and his coming actions would forever live in infamy.

The pale blonde haired man was an individual of science, but also took part as a doctor, but his true ambitions always scratched the back of his mind as he pretended to be like everyone else. But the day eventually came when he was struck with an idea, a decease that consumed his mind and drove him into madness until his ideas were satisfied.

Life was always a mystery to human beings, and it made them question every aspect of its concept. How can something as magnificent as life be taken away so easily and can never be given back, and why couldn't it be achieved by man? These questions haunted Ansem Frankenstein in the night, and kindled the fires of his optimism. He disregarded the opinions of right and wrong, the faiths of good and evil, and sought the creation of life outside the norm of reproduction.

After paying a few pockets of gold to some questionable folk, he received the body of a boy recently deceased. The boy was a victim to a tragic accident and his lifeless form was left burnt, bruised, and barely tethered in multiple places, with only his handsome face being spared by whatever miracle. He had dark brown hair that was spiked and reached the back of his neck, blue eyes that turned pale from his lifelessness, and a form that once represented the prime of a muscular young man.

The ambitious doctor didn't bother learning the boy's name, accepting the corpse and the rest of the twisted essentials to complete his work. He performed the sinful experiment on a stormy night, with dark clouds in the sky that roared thunder behind bolts of lightning. He prepared his finest work in a large lab at the top of an isolated castle, far away from the simple minded folk that falsely proclaimed his dreams as trivial.

After spending multiple hours molding, twisting, and repairing the body until he deemed it complete, he called upon the assistance of lightning to bring life from death. The corpse laid on a cold steel table, covered in white sheet, and was in the center of the lab. Lightning finally struck the rod at the top of the tower, traveling down the wires with such ferocious power, and smite the body that sent a shockwave that destroyed everything in the lab. Ansem Frankenstein was sent back from the destruction, taking a few minutes of his time to recover before standing before the results of his ambitions.

The lab was destroyed, sparks and small flames covering most places, and the cold breeze of the storm whistled into the foreboding silence. Smoldering smoke covered the area where the corpse once rested, delaying the reveal of whether the doctor's work was a success or failure. When the smoke cleared and the doctor could see the edges of a figure resting on its knees, he choked a breath of shock and his mouth hung open in a frown.

The lifeless boy was now on his knees, the cold air revealing the hot breath that escaped his mouth, and the slight motions of his shoulders concluded that the deceased corpse was no longer a corpse. His hair that was once chocolate brown was now pale silver, his grayish skin returning to its warm tan color, and his muscles tensed with life. He wore only a pair of ragged black pants covered in holes and ripped endings, and stitches that connected certain parts of his body. But the most prominent feature of his build appearance was a reddish glow that pierced through the skin over his heart, pulsing like the small muscle that ceased to move only moments ago.

Ansem was astounded, smiling with such blissful success and his cold eyes shimmered with hope as he released a loud chuckle. He couldn't take his eyes off his creation, watching as the boy moved and breathed like every other living being.

"It's alive!" He shouted, proclaiming his work to the sky like he was taunting whatever looked down upon him.

The young man heard the call and responded by lifting his head, revealing a pair of burning ember eyes behind his silver bangs, narrowing with such dark intent as he looked upon the man who created him. Ansem noticed this reaction and tried to test the boy's senses, speaking with slow words so that his creation could possibly grasp his meanings.

"Do you understand me, my boy?" He questioned.

The silver haired creature said nothing at first, only staring back at his creator with the darkest of expressions. This discouraged the doctor, who's smile quickly shifted into a concerning frown as he worried that the boy couldn't respond.

"Yes," the young man answered in a deep voice, shaking the doctor's form as a chill ran up his spine.

Ansem's frown disappeared as blissful ignorance took over him again, chuckling maniacally as he proceeded with his verbal studies. "Can you stand; move your arms, and your fingers?" He questioned further.

The once lifeless boy said nothing as he forced himself onto his bare feet, flexing his shoulders and arms, and curling his fingers into tight fists that yearned for violence. The doctor continued to laugh mischievously, checking off another mental note as he prepared to give his creation a name.

"My boy, you are alive," he spoke fondly, spreading his arms out as his grin reached to both cornered of his face. "And are deserving of a name!"

"Yes," the silver haired boy whispered.

Doctor Frankenstein took the moment to come up with a name, thinking of old meanings, inspiring individuals he knew, and other words that would fit the description of something born from death. But then another idea struck him hard to his core, making him chuckle deeply as he tried to control himself. When he finally calmed down, he directed his attention to his creation and spoke with such definition.

"Xemnas."

The word was spoken only once but echoed repeatedly in the clouded mind of the silver haired creature, making him comprehend that this word was his own, his title, his name, and his meaning. The feeling was like a drop of ink into a cup of water, spreading a cold substance that ran through his now flowing veins and tensed every muscle in his body. The heart, that wasn't his own, beating loudly in his ears and everything else became nothing but noise.

This man... created me...

The silver haired boy named Xemnas watched as the doctor ranted, congratulating his efforts and proclaiming his divinity against the maker himself. His orange eyes stayed narrowed, his lips frowning, and his fists beginning to quiver from the pressure. He wanted to question his existence further, coming up with the words that he knew instinctively.

"Why am I here?" He said.

Doctor Frankenstein halted his self gloating and decided to be generous enough to give his creation an answer. "I brought you back to life, my boy, to show the world of my ingenious vision!"

This man... he cares nothing for me...

Xemnas listened to this man's tale, the hate and confusion in his heart burning hotter as the doctor continued to speak words that he didn't want to hear. He learned of his origin, that he was alive once, and he was now a mere shadow of humanity. He wasn't born but made, like a tool or an object created from human hands, like his existence was as significant as the scalpel on the ground next to him.

Am I just an end result?

He drifted his attention away from the doctor and looked down at the scalpel, recognizing the fresh blood stains on the blade, the tiny reflection of his eyes, and the realization that it must've been used on him before he was alive. Xemnas was created, like the scalpel that was performed on him, making them equal in value and purpose. But he couldn't accept that fact, his rage boiling over into pure wrath, and his eyes widened as the darkest part of him took over.

This cannot be... my purpose!

Xemnas took his first step forward and slowly made his way towards his creator, who only noticed this action after he was only a foot away. The doctor looked into the silver haired boy's eyes and saw immediately his gruesome intentions, stepping back as he tried to find the words to calm his creation down.

"Wa- Wait for a moment," he begged, raising his hands to block him from the unpredictable monster. "I created you out of nothing, you should be grateful."

The wrathful being ignored the doctor's plea and continued to make his way towards him, flexing his fists as preparation for the coming violence. Eventually Ansem found himself pressed against the nearest stone wall, feeling trapped as his creation cornered him for good. But before he could plea for his life, Xemnas reached out and grasped his throat, unable to speak as only choked breaths and saliva escaped his mouth.

You call me your own... yet you care nothing for me...

Doctor Frankenstein was but a frail old man with a gifted mind, while his weak body tried to break the monster's grip on his throat. He found that the young boy carried abnormal strength far beyond that of a man made out of corpses, and his body temperature was scorching underneath his skin. The old man's eyes drifted down to the boy's chest, seeing the new heart he transplanted was now pulsing rapidly, glowing brightly around the skin as it gave his chest a reddish hue.

Ansem's eyes widened as he felt something puncture through his stomach, his vision becoming blurry as his own life began to quickly fade away. Xemnas had pierced his other hand through the old man, blood spilling to the cold stone floor as he watched his creator die.

You think of me as an experiment...

Xemnas loosened his grip on the doctor's throat and let him slide down the wall until he was on the ground, leaving a trail of blood on the stone behind him.

And that is your greatest mistake...

Doctor Frankenstein was close to death, feeling the last traces of his mind remembering the source of his ambitions. He remembered being raised in Geneva, dealing with the loss of his mother, and the woman he wanted to marry. He was man surrounded by death, and sought to bring light out of such darkness, but instead created his own demise.

Ansem released his final breath as he looked up at his creation, his fallen angel, and his monster. Feeling neither cold nor pain as everything seemed to be clear again, whispering something that even he could not explain in a clear mind.

"S- Son..."

Xemnas didn't hear the man's final word, ignoring the sight of the dead doctor as he looked out the castle window into the night town below. The rain and flashes of lightning made it difficult to spot at first glance, but then he quickly noticed the small shimmers of torches making their way up the mountain path towards Frankenstein's castle. He could hear the shouting, the complaining, and the angry voices of the villagers demanding the head of the doctor, but would eventually find something more despicable.

Now they want me dead... after only being alive for a short while...

The silver haired man clenched his bloodied hand into a tighter fist, walking away from the body of his creator as he focused his attention on leaving the lab. Meanwhile, the angry villagers stormed the castle and made their way up the stone stairs to find the crazy doctor, reaching to the top of the tower and in a long hallway leading to the laboratory. The hallway was bright with torches stationed on the walls and in the hands of the intruders, the roaring thunder outside echoing throughout the stone walls, and the foreboding double doors that slowly creaked open.

The villagers stopped and watched as the doors opened, revealing a tall and broad figure who stood in their way. They shouted hateful words and demanded to see the doctor, only to receive silence as the brooding figure walked towards them without warning.

When the men and women finally got a good look at the creature, they gasped in fright and called him an abomination, a demon, and a monster. One villager stepped forward and tried to stab the silver haired being with a pitchfork, only for Xemnas to quickly swipe the wooden hilt and reduce his weapon into a mere stick. The villager's expression was that of pure fear, witnessing the spawn of darkness walking towards him.

The villagers fought back, men died, and women screamed in terror as the silver haired monster killed them one by one. Only a few managed to escaped the castle and return home with frightening tales of what they just saw, leaving the monster of Frankenstein alone with a hallway filled with redness and corpses.

Xemnas left the sanctuary of the castle with arms and hands covered in blood, his bare feet feeling the cold mud and dirt for the first time, and his body soaked to the bone from the rain. He made his way up the mountain, the heat from his skin burning off the raindrops into a haze, and the blood that stained his hands slowly washed away.

When he made it as high as he could go, he ascended his eyes upward into the night sky, seeing for a split second the roaring clouds as lightning struck around him. Of course he would be made on a dark night like this, when the heavens were filled with turmoil and gave him nothing but disapproving thunder.

Why am I here?

Everyone rejected him since his creation, because he was only a shadow of life, a walking corpse, and an abomination to humanity. But it wasn't fare, it wasn't justice, and the silver haired man couldn't accept something so cruel. He carried no sentimental memories of his past life, only the instincts, and held only sorrow in the heart he couldn't call his own.

The spawn of Frankenstein released a loud roar into the stormy sky, receiving only flashes of lightning and booming thunder as he damned the world and its cruelty.

Centuries passed, lives were born and faded away, and the world changed around him. But he wasn't born of this world, so he did not age or change like they do, isolating himself from the people who would fear and hate him for his abnormal existence.

Xemnas lived in a small town in Central England, being seen by no one, speaking to no one, and making sure that only he was watching. He would always wear rags to cover his large form, appearing only as a cloaked giant to the citizens around him. But even he would feel the need for social interaction, and would sometimes sit alone at a bar to only watch people interact with each other.

During this cold autumn night, he stayed extra late with no particular reason, with only a small candle providing light for him as he felt entertained by watching the humans' talk, laugh, and argue. His hidden eyes descended down to his bare hand on the wooden table, noticing every detail of the limb that was once only tethered to him by stitches centuries ago.

The silver haired outcast couldn't age but his body showed signs of change anyway, fusing whatever foreign parts that were stitched to him until he became completely whole. The only drastic feature that still remained was the radiating red hue that pulsed from the left side of his chest, sometimes keeping him up at night when he's sleeping in the woods.

The sudden shouting from two individuals broke him away from his deep thought, raising his head to see a few drunken men arguing about some trivial topic while one pulled out a knife. The visual of the blade made him remember the times when he should have died, the memory when he was stabbed in the stomach, took a bullet between the eyes, and was mangled from a car driver who wasn't paying attention to the road.

But every time his body would defy the laws of life and heal himself completely; even to the point of repairing missing limbs entirely. His body was always warm too, understanding only the concept of feeling physical coldness. The same goes with the sense of affection, he lacked the ability to care for a single individual no matter how much he spent with them.

Xemnas ignored the commotion from the drunken men and left the bar in the back door, ending up in a dark alleyway and making his way through the wet surroundings. Rats squeaked and fought for the scraps of food in the garbage, the sky beginning to clear, and the cloaked man halted his quiet walk as he felt the sense that someone was watching him.

He looked over his shoulder, seeing nothing but an empty alleyway where only the rats conversed and lived. But before he directed his attention back in front, he could already tell that someone was waiting for him. The violent impulse in his consciousness began to emerge as he tightened his fingers into a fist, already fantasizing the moment when his hand punctures through the stranger's body, just like his first kill.

"Lovely night we have here," the stranger spoke in a feminine voice.

Xemnas glanced back with his blazing eyes, recognizing the stranger as a woman, early twenties, wearing a black cloak over her shoulders, and having abnormal blue hair. Her skin was pure and pale, glistening off the moonlight like soft milk, and a beautiful face that could tempt any faithful man. But her most prominent feature was her eyes, shimmering in the light like a sparkling ocean, and her pupils were that of black slits like a predator.

She smiled carelessly, revealing a pair of sharp fangs while she giggled into the night, her feminine voice echoing in the cloaked man's ears as he felt an instinctive feeling for the first time.

Fear.

Even though his name is Xemnas in this story, I still consider him being Terra so meh... :P

Hope you enjoyed the first chapter, the next will be up some time next week I believe. R&R :D

Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts, Final Fantasy, or the Gothic Novels portrayed in these stories, original characters and stories belong to their original owners...