Chapter Ten
Trouble In The Skies

...

...

For a moment, he wasn't certain what had woken him. He didn't recall when or why he was asleep in the first place either, but he knew he was awake now.

Pain.

It screamed across his body and muddled his mind, making it difficult to discern the source of discomfort. Something passed over him and he felt the adrenaline rush through him, unlocking his joints. He may have been blind from pain, but he wasn't immobile. The mere fact that he could move told him he wasn't held down by anything, and he swiped at the thing above him. He would not be bested yet!

The thing retreated and a new sound broke the high-pitched continuous sound that he realized had woken him. This new sound made his blood rise and his mind sharpen. A scream. He had hit his mark.

The sound snapped his mind into focus and he saw everything clearly as though for the first time. His surroundings were all white. A sickening, gut-wrenching white that twisted his insides in a way that made him feel vulnerable. Fear. The sensation was made all the stronger by the strange scent that always accompanied the white rooms and brought everything – or in this case, nothing – up from inside his stomach.

Vomiting was not a pleasant sensation, and he did not take kindly to being taken sick when a threat was so close to him. As he breathed in, a new scent tickled his nose and he let it settle his stomach. He knew that smell. Blood.

Gold eyes snapped open and fell instantly on the bleeding body on the floor only a foot away. It was a human. A white-coat human.

A face floated up to the front of his mind of another white-coated human; long brown hair and enormous brown eyes, and Chaos snarled. This was a threat. The white-coats had captured him again. Somehow. He could no longer feel the human-mind in his, forcing him compliance with the power of the Ancients. But before he could lay a hand on the wounded White-Coat, something crashed through the wall behind him and pain screamed across his back and left wing.

Enraged, Chaos spun around, dropping into a crouch and expanding his wings in an intimidation-play. The large creature before him hissed and spat, pacing the floor with hungry eyes, but did not approach. It knew better than to mess with him, even wounded as he was. Chaos hissed softly; lips curling back in a wider snarl, warning the lesser demon away.

The creature danced on its front paws anxiously, dark eyes darting between the greater demon and the door behind it, then finally walked side-ways to the tear in the wall and leapt out. Chaos listened to it run off with a yowl, warning others of his existence.

'Vincent.'

The quiet cough re-directed Chaos' attention and he whirled, hissing at the White-Coat on the floor. It was a male, he realized. It wasn't the White-Coat who had enslaved him, but he did not trust it all the same. The blood was different, too; a different species of male human than the female White-Coat. Something on the White-Coat's belt caught his attention and Chaos narrowed his eyes, concentrating his failing eyesight on the object. He recognized it.

It was small, rectangular and thin.

A memory replayed in his mind of another White-Coat sliding the thin white object through a slot in the wall by the door, and the door opening.

Chaos blinked, reaching cautiously out and taking the object from the White-Coat's belt. The thin cord attaching it there snapped easily with a light touch of his claw, and the object rested lightly in his hand.

The White-Coat made a small noise in his throat and Chaos lifted his gaze to the curious dark brown eyes. There was fear, pain, and curiosity there. He pondered a moment on whether or not he should kill the thing, purely because of its white-coat, but then decided against it. He was tired and wounded. He needed to sleep. The White-Coat wasn't in any condition to chase him, anyway. He had caught him in the gut; a poor place to be sliced open as it was usually a fatal blow. Few demons recovered from gut-wounds, unless, like him, they were greater demons with healing abilities. And White-Coats were not demon's.

He rose, ignoring the dying human, and moved towards the door. His feet were slow to move and he staggered, crashing side-long into a table and agitating a still-bleeding hole in his chest and the tear in his wing. Yowling angrily in pain, Chaos fought to his feet, tucking his wings tightly to his back and half-crawled to the blinking box at the wall. With a shaking hand, he slid the card through the slot and the box blinked green and the wall opened.
The pain driving him mind back to darkness, Chaos ignored the fact he could hear his heart beating desperately and his own blood rushing in his ears, and stumbled down the narrow hall, wings scraping the edges of the walkway and sending tiny jolts of pain sneaking up to his head. He needed to hide now. He needed a safe spot to sleep.

He followed the hall until it split into two sets of stairs, and took the ones that led down. Down meant safety and the smaller chance of being discovered.

The stairs led to another hall, and at the end he could discern voices and decided he would not go that far. He found another blinking box at the side of the wall and ran the card clumsily through the slot. The box blinked red and the wall did not open. He ran it through again but still it refused to open. He could smell water on the other side. Water and no voices. It was a good place to hide. If only the box would open the door. Again, he ran the card, and again it blinked red and the wall remained closed. Furious in his desperation, Chaos slammed his fist into the wall. It went through and lights danced and sparked. He felt something sting his hand and he jerked it back, snarling in surprise. The wall came with his hand and he staggered backwards in momentary fright as the hall lit up briefly.

When it was dark again, he stood with a hammering heart and a door hanging from his balled fist. He wriggled his hand free and stepped cautiously over the sparking threshold, sniffing the air. Water. No life.

He blinked, forcing his eyes to adjust to the darkness, and he saw, with some delight, that the room was strewn with metal pipes that made it difficult for a large creature such as himself to maneuver. Unlike other large creatures though, he was quite flexible and he easily wound his way through the maze of pipes until he spotted a place above him that he thought would suffice for a hide-hole; a ventilation box.

Grimacing to himself at the climb, Chaos reached above his head and gripped the pipe directly above him. Hissing in pain, he pulled himself up onto the pipe and crouched down on it. As he reached for the next one, the pipe beneath him buckled. Panicked, Chaos grabbed onto the nearest pipe and hauled himself up. This one snapped under his weight and he screamed as he fell down, crashing into the pipes below him. His scream was drowned, in all literal senses, as water, both hot and cold, sprang out of the broken pipes and drenched him.

Fighting out of the water's reach, Chaos scrambled up a solid-looking tank and then ripped the lid off the ventilation shaft above it. It was smaller than the one he had wanted, but it was better than risking the pipes, and so he wriggled inside and followed it until it opened into a large space where a fan rotated above his head. Exhausted and in pain, he collapsed there beneath the fan, curling into himself and allowing his mind to fall into a half-sleep, focusing most of his attention on keeping his healing-ability flowing.

The White-Coats had a lot to answer for when he got himself straightened out.

...

...

'How bad is it?'

The question was out of Cid's mouth the moment the door *swooshed* open and the on-board doctor was lifting a foot to step over the threshold.

Nobody had been allowed to see Reeve once the medics had been alerted to his condition and had whisked him away into the med-room. The doctor sighed, shaking his head.

'We've managed to close the wound with a Cure Materia, but he's lost a lot of blood and has yet to regain consciousness. There's a chance he'll recover fully from this, but we won't know for certain until he wakes up. He got lucky that whatever attacked him didn't poison him at the same time.'

'That's the last straw.' Cid said with an angry scowl. 'I'm movin' the ship to the outskirts. First you lot go puttin' goddamn holes in my ship's hull with your own attacks, and now we got monsters chewin' their way through!' He went to the door and jabbed a finger onto the "Call" button on the communicator hung there. 'Bret! I don't care if you have to get all hands outside an' liftin' her heavy ass; I want this ship moved to the Outskirts before the hour is up! Ya hear!'

He released the speaker and turned to face the others.

'Alright! We all know we're out of time.' He said, and Yuffie scowled at her shoes. Cid ignored her. 'So instead of hun'in one particular bugger, I want this ship cleared of all demons; they're wreaking havoc everywhere, and we ain't goin' nowhere until-goddamn! What the hell is that?!'

A loud, piercing mechanical whine split the air and everyone in the room quickly covered their ears. Lucrecia slammed her demon-finder on the table repeatedly until the noise quieted.

'Sorry.' She apologized. 'This thing has been malfunctioning since we got here. The signal keeps changing, and every now and then it does that. I'm not sure what is causing it. I could try to take it apart, but I don't think I could put it back together afterwards...' She trailed off, shrugging helplessly.

'Well at least turn the fuckin' volume down.' Cid said, his ears still ringing from the high-pitched squealing.

'Do we know what kind of monster it was that got Reeve?' Tifa asked, changing the subject. Her concerned brown eyes were fixed on the doctor.

'What ever it was had to be fairly large and extremely sharp talons.' The doctor said. 'It sliced through all the muscle of his abdomen, and even some of his intestine. We managed to seal both wounds with a powerful Cure, but the loss of blood and the shock was quite severe.'

'Large and fuckin' dangerous.' Cid said, crossing his arms. 'I suggest y'all start findin' the fucker so I can get this hunk of junk in the air again. If yer wan'in a place t'start, I'd suggest down in the "C" section; that's where the boilers are. Somethin' got down there an' busted all mah pipes an' I gotta feeling it's the same bastard that nailed Reeve. G'ddamn, woman! Turn that thing off!'

The demon-tracker squealed again, this time emitting a long and continuous beep. Lucrecia fiddled with the dials, but when the noise refused to quiet, she smacked it against the table again. The noise died away. Lucrecia set the machine down with a heavy sigh of one defeated.

'There's no volume switch.' She told Cid, her voice an unusual calm. 'It's made up of spare parts.'

'An' there's the difference between a scientist and a mechanic!' Cid said, striding forward and seizing the tracker. 'If it makes noise, it can be turned down.'

He inspected the rectangular box a few moments, then pulled a screw-driver from his belt and loosed a few screws, pulling the box apart.

'Where're ya hidin'?' He muttered to the array of wires and green chips. 'Aha!'

He selected two wires and in a few seconds, had them disconnected and a small rubber cap over them. He put the box back together and tossed it to Lucrecia.

'There. She won't make noise now.'

'But what happens if there's a demon nearby?' Yuffie exclaimed.

'There's fuckin' demons everywhere on this goddamned ship!' Cid bellowed. 'In fact, that's where you lot are gonna go! Clean up my ship and find the body so we can at least have somethin' to bury! I don' care if it's an friggin' eyeball or a spleen! I want every damned piece you can find!'

He slammed his palms down on the table, glaring out at his speechless friends, then turned and stormed out.

...

...

'Hee-yah!' Tifa drove her elbow into the giant monster's exposed side, and grunted in satisfaction when she heard - and felt - several bones give way from the force of the blow.

The demon was hurled backwards from the attack, and met an untimely end when Tifa's foot crashed into the side of it's head, crushing it's skull. Tifa bounced back on the balls of her feet a few times, then relaxed her stance. Sighing from the exhertion, she reached for the radio attached to her belt and pushed the "Talk" button as the dead demon disappeared in black tendrils.

'That's the last of them up here.' She said to the radio. 'Nothing found yet. How is everyone else doing?'

She released the button and held the radio, glancing around the sleeping-quarters. They had been hunting and killing the demons on board the Sierra for several days now, but there was still no sign of the gunman's body to be found anywhere. Plenty of demons, but no body. Tifa wasn't certain if it was a good thing or not.

The radio crackled, drawing the Martial Artist from her thoughts.

'I think I got everything down here in the Boiler-room.' Lucrecia's voice said, and Tifa smiled. The scientist had proved to be quite a warrior in her own right, even without a gun. 'I'll be glad to get someplace where a gun isn't so dangerous. These things are gross up-close. I hope those showers are still working.'

'Think again, honey.' Cid's voice kicked up the radio as Lucrecia's faded. 'The pipes don't run t'the showers yet. Just to the engines.'

'Ugh. Just what I needed to hear Cid, thanks.' Lucrecia said in disgust. 'I am covered head-to-toe in slime, blood, and I don't want to think what else.'

Tifa laughed. As tough as the scientist was, she was a typical woman at heart and had a strong distaste for being filthy.

'I've been six days without a shower, babe!' Yuffie's voice jumped in. 'And I'm filthier than you! Suck it up!'

'And the brat wonders why I keep her outta' mah' kitchen.' Cid said.

'Heeeeey!' Yuffie exclaimed.

'No whining over the radio, brat!' Cid growled.

'Hey, Cloud, how are things in the "C" section?' Tifa asked before Yuffie could retaliate with a verbal attack of her own.

The radio was silent for several moments as everyone listened for the reply. Cloud had been recruited to help clear out the pipe-room, as it was suspected very dangerous demons were hiding out there. As it was a large room and visibility was low, it was a frustratingly slow process for hunting demons there.

'Surprisingly, I've still not found any.' Cloud replied at last. 'I finally reached the end of the room today, but there's nothing in here. Whatever had been in here to bust those pipes must have slipped out ages ago. There's no signs of anything here.'

'Not so sure I like the sound of that.' Cid said, his voice frowning.

'Me either.' Cloud said. 'I keep getting the feeling that something isn't right here...'

'Keep searchin' then.' Cid said. 'Sher? How's the deck lookin'?'

'I've got most of the controls back up.' Shera answered. 'But one of those things has completely destroyed the sensors. We're going to need parts for this, Cid. I don't think even you could pull a magic act to fix this thing...'

'I'll be up in a few minutes to-' There was a squeal and rush of static, then Cid's voice again. '-amned fuckin' beast! I'll be up in a few minutes, Sher. Jus' soon as I've done clearing out the kitchen again.'

'Good luck.' Tifa chuckled. The kitchen seemed to be a popular place for demons to pop up, and Cid had taken on the task of guarding the room. Every day, it seemed another demon would turn up from some confines of the ship and send Cid on another rampage and hunt.

Her job complete, Tifa headed out of the room to find out where they were. Perhaps if they were close to a body of water, there was a chance they could land for at least pot-baths.

...

...

Chaos was in a horrible fix. The wound in his chest seemed to be taking a ridiculously long time to heal, even for his own powers. It ached, burned, itched, and hurt like no tomorrow, and on top of that, he was hungry.

The demon's lips curled back in a fanged scowl as his stomach threatened to consume itself if he didn't find food yesterday, and finally relented to opening his eyes. His hiding-place in the ducts seemed to have been a good one. As of yet, he was undisturbed and the cool air from the fan above him was somewhat soothing. The low droning of voices that occassionally drifted up from somewhere further down the metal ducts only furthened the comfortable atmosphere.

His stomach gnawed at itself again and the demon huffed, baring his fangs again. Hissing from the pain it brought him to move, Chaos pushed himself to his knees and, tucking his wings tightly against his back, crawled through the ducts, pausing as he reached each vent to peer through and see where he was.

He was forced to take regular breaks on account of the hole in his chest and bleeding everywhere he went, but finally, he found himself staring down at a table. More importantly, the object on the table. A giant, meat and cheese sandwich and a steaming cup of tea.

The tea held little interest for the demon, but the sandwich was something of great interest to him. The meat, especially. Chaos felt his stomach groan and could have sworn he heard it echo around him. Carefully, he listened for any sounds of people in the room beneath him. He heard none and so, very cautiously, he lifted the vent from its resting spot. He had spent years in his human-host, and privy to the weaklings every thought and memory, had no problems in carefully dropping down to the floor and sneaking to the table, keeping low and out of view of the open door.

The sandwich sat above him; glorious in its placement on the table, and he took only a moment to consider what madness had brought him to the consumption of cooked foods before swiping the sandwich and biting a huge chunk out of it, swallowing it nearly-whole. The measly food was not enough to sate his hunger, but his nose easily located more foods in the gleaming white box with the swinging door, and the demon made short work of the left-over foods carefully packaged on the shelves.

Only when footsteps alerted him to an approach did he abandon his quest to fill his stomach, and, cramming his mouth as full as it could get, he climbed onto the counter and out the window. As he was in no condition for extreme measures, he followed the landing to a closed window. Hearing nothing behind it, he man-handled it open and slipped inside, closing the shutters to hide his entry.

The room was dark and cool. Comfortable living-quarters for his standings, and he contented himself with swallowing the last of his lunch as he let his eyes adjust to the darkness. Normally, it wouldn't be a problem, but as he was severely wounded and all his conscious effort was on healing the bloody hole in his chest, he could hardly spare his energies on the lesser abilities that included flying, jumping, and seeing in the dark.

He found the room to be empty of people, and from the smell of it, it hadn't been used in a while. Dark lips pulling back in a smile, the demon asserted himself under the bed for a more comfortable nap. After a few minutes, he reached up and pulled the pillow from the bed. There was no harm, he thought as he plumped the cushion and arranged it under his head, in having a little comfort during his nap. In a few hours, he would slip back into the ducts and continue hiding. But for now, with a full stomach and a sleepy countenance, he would be content with this.

More comfortable beneath the bed with his new-found pillow, the demon sighed deeply and shut his eyes. Perhaps some things in the corporal world weren't so bad...