Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ I Know What Lies Beneath the Snowfields ❯ Chapter 36 ( Chapter 36 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

"I Know What's Beneath the Snow Fields"
Chapter 36

Vincent instantly hid behind a sturdy tree, and held his breath in
restrained anticipation.

Cautiously and with great stealth, he had crept all the way from his
dark hideout, stooping low along the frozen hedges, and dashing
noiselessly from one tree to another. His heavy boots made no sound in
the thick snow. The cold gun felt quite comfortable in his tight grip.

Vincent had snuck farther up the long black road, through a low, woody
area, when he detected an enemy close by. With redoubled stealthiness,
he glued his back against the nearest tree, and was perfectly silent.

His keen eyes inspected the grim surroundings: this barren lowland
snuggled comfortably along the foot of a hillock, separated by a crude
wooden fence. The main gravel pathway extended over the hilltop, so that
anyone wishing to descend into this low area needed to climb down a
rocky slope first, then pass the fence.

Hundreds of black trees infested the land, their grappling roots
burried under deep snow. Countless bushes and shrubberies, all thick and
quite bare, scattered across the wasted lowland. They thronged around
trees, or clustered together in silent misery.

Being thus so crowded with dead trees and brittle bushes, a heavy
darkness loomed about this low woodland. It was an endless maze of black
shadows, some twisting into the most grotesque shapes. The cold air was
deathly calm.

From his hidden spot behind the tree, Vincent could sense one of the
mercenaries shuffle about here and there in a thorough search. The man,
with his gun undoubtedly ready to fire, cautiously examined any
suspicious shrub and checked around all trees in his path. He made no
indication, at least not audible, that he had heard Vincent sneek into
this area.

A full five minutes dragged by. Vincent did not move a muscle. His back
remained glued to the tree, his ears intently concentrated on the
enemy's movements.

Vincent tensed as he heard the armed man wander near his hideout.
Fortunately, the darkness seemed too ghostly, and the silence so heavy,
the mercenary decided not to carry his search further into these bleak
woods. Besides, they had combed the area just minutes ago; how could
anyone possibly slip into here in such a short time unheard and
unnoticed?

Thus assured, the man retreated back through the woody area. He walked
with his back openly turned to the dark woodlands.

As the unsuspecting mercenary wandered away, Vincent stealthily peeked
around the tree: it was the man with the blue kerchief and dirty, rugged
face.

He's wearing a bullet-proof coat, Vincent reflected to himself, and I'm
sure the others have bullet-proof vests too....

Vincent narrowed his cold eyes, then noiselessly dashed from his
hideout to another tree close by. He huddled his side against the
knotted bark, drawing his gun across his chest in wait of the "right
moment".

A very faint, dull pain prickled his lungs. Vincent sensed a violent
coughing fit not too far away. Already, his forehead felt a little
feverish.

He peeked again, barely enough for one eye to look around the tree. The
mercenary, still suspecting nothing, had halted at the foot of the
hillock, right behind the simple wooden fence. His back completely faced
Vincent. Another man stood on the hilltop, where the main road passed
over. The two were talking loudly.

"Find anything?" asked the man on the hilltop. Vincent recognized him
as the nervous, short mercenary with curly red hair.

"Naw, nothing here," assured the other man, "I checked the whole
area...no freak with a claw or little girly."

"You sure you checked right?"

"Yep. If there WAS anyone, I would've heard it. My ears are pretty
sharp, y'know."

Vincent slowly extended his arm out, and pointed his gun at the back of
the unwary man's head.

"You checked those bushes over there?" the short mercenary on the
hilltop questioned, "Mr.Davoren said this guy's supposed to be very fast
and damn sneeky.."

"He just said that to watch you piss in yer pants. Geez, didn't you see
that slick look on his face," interrupted the confident man arrogantly,
"I tell ya, no one's here! I checked around real good and...."

Before the cocky mercenary could finish his sentence, Vincent suddenly
opened fire. The loud bullet ripped straight through the man's skull,
sending him tumbling clumsily over the wooden fence. He died instantly.

Vincent did not wait to hear the other mercenary shout at the top of
his voice for his comrades, much less for them to rush over. Without
looking back, he flew deeper into the black woods, hopping over bushes
and racing past so many barren trees. He sensed heavy footsteps not too
far behind him. Undoubtedly, the three remaining mercenaries, enraged by
the brutal surprise attack, had decided to hunt him down through the
woods.

Vincent suddenly dodged behind a tree, and was perfectly still. He
glued his entire backside to the tree, pressing his gun against his
heaving chest. In the near distance, he heard those men's shouts as they
quickly drew nearer.

"Hurry! This way!! This way!!" roared a loud voice.

"You take that way, I'll go this way," commanded another angry voice,
"Don't let your guard down...he's really dangerous!"

"I swear, I'll mutilate that goddamn asshole!"

Suddenly, all was still again. The entire woodland lay in darkness, its
chilly air unnaturally calm.

Vincent basically understood their plan: they would surround him from
three directions, then quickly close in on him to prevent his escape.
That meant he had to somehow break through the deadly ring before being
discovered. He also assumed these mercenaries had contacted the others
for reinforcements, that is if the loud gunshot and commotion hadn't
already attracted their attention.

The fact that Davoren hadn't personally attacked yet aroused Vincent's
suspicion, almost to the point of alarm.

However, the approach of stealthy footsteps from behind immediately cut
short all thoughts. Vincent held his breath as he sensed one of the
mercenaries slowly creep along the tress, his gun most certainly ready
to shoot any second. His sharp ears detected every movement of the
approaching man: from his cautious steps in the snow, to the nervous
twitch of his finger on the trigger. It was, as Vincent correctly
guessed, the short mercenary with red hair.

The footsteps grew slowly closer. Vincent remained as still as a
statue, his keen eyes fixed to the far corner. The darkness and shadows
concealed him so comletely, his tall figure appeared as part of the
black tree. So much so that the red-haired man, though quite alert,
snuck right past Vincent without even sensing his presence.

Instantly, Vincent grabbed the unwary man from behind. His hard
metallic arm encircled the enemy's neck and crushed his windpipe.
Frightened out of his wits, the mercenary screamed for help amidst wild
chokes and fierce (but futile) struggling. In a flash, the other
mercenaries rushed to the spot.

"THERE!!" thundered one man.

"SHOOT!! SHOOT!!!!!" roared the other man savagely.

Vincent quickly bolted towards another tree, still holding the
struggling mercenary around the neck. Insanely furious, the two men
automatically opened fire on their target, thereby spraying the entire
hostage with bullets instead. Vincent had used this mercenary as a human
shield.

He released the bullet-ridden corpse just as he dodged around the tree.
>From his spot, Vincent could see the man lying face down in the snow
over a pool of blood; he was dead.

An all-out war immediately errupted. The two remaining mercenaries,
aroused to madness, blasted away at an entire throng of trees, one of
which their clever enemy hid behind. The hot bullets tore at everything
in their way; they overturned all sorts of twigs, bark chips, and bits
of frozen dirt into the air.

Both sides exchanged several shots at once. Vincent's whole body
huddled behind the sturdy shelter, while his arm extended out around the
tree to shoot. Yet unlike the wild mercenaries who fired
indiscriminately, Vincent shot with tactical caution. Above this mad
crossfire, he sharpened all his senses to pin-point his enemies'
positions.

Without peeking around the tree, he aimed slightly to the left, and
fired; one of the men screamed violently in pain. Vincent fired again in
the same exact position, and heard the man crash heavily to the ground.
He had killed another mercenary.

The last man, blind with rage, redoubled the amount of gunfire.
Vincent, however, only returned a couple of shots before suddenly
breaking away from the bloody battle. He bolted straight through the
dark woodland, heading for the hillock up ahead. Though he never looked
behind, Vincent knew the last mercenary, the big muscular one, was madly
rushing after him. Not too far back, he heard the angry man trample
savagely over the bushes and swear non-stop.

At last, Vincent reached the foot of the hillock. He immediately sprang
up the rocky slope, and landed onto the main gravel path once again. Gun
in hand, Vincent darted across the road. He huddled behind one of the
trees along the roadside, and was perfectly still.

For the first time since fighting, Vincent noticed himself gasping
deeply for air. Indeed, his chest heaved in such unbearable pain as he
fought for a precious breath. To add to his ordeal, the fever had grown
worse. He felt the coughing fit edge closer.

Soon, he discovered his right upper arm had been wounded in the battle.
Vincent was certainly surprised; he hadn't felt any pain up to now, not
even the slightest twinge. He gazed blankly at his torn sleeve,
marvelling at the dark, hot blood soaking the wound. Luckily, the bullet
had only grazed his arm, so Vincent found it easy (or at least possible)
to bear the injuiry.

A stern frown darkened his face: this battle had lasted for nearly half
an hour, far longer than expected. He wanted to return to Aeris at once.

"Where are ya, you damn freak?!!" thundered a loud, enraged voice
suddenly. It was the muscular mercenary with the assault rifle. In
persuing his enemy, the man had climbed the rocky hillside up to the
main road.

Vincent huddled himself further against the tree, bringing the gun
closer to his hot face. He heard the angry man storm about here and
there in a desperate search for him; he kicked the hedges viciously, and
poked his gun around every tree in his path: nothing.

Like so many previous times, Vincent had hidden himself in the shadows.
The man simply had no clue where Vincent's hideout could be. Breathless
with his own rage, the brawny mercenary stood in the middle of the black
road. His suspicious eyes darted all around the ghostly place.

"Come out here and fight like a man, if that's what the hell you're
supposed to be!!" the mercenary roared, "You sure got balls doing my
buddies in like that! Come out!!!"

Vincent made no reply. His bloody-red eyes shone in unnaturally cool
composure.

"I swear that Davoren's gonna pay me TRIPLE the original price fer
catching you...especially after all the trouble you've caused me!!"
threatened the man, brandishing his huge fist into the air.

No answer.

The mercenary stomped along the roadside, pointing his deadly gun in
angry anticipation. He wandered past Vincent's hideout, then halted a
short distance away. He glared suspiciously at the dark surroundings.

Vincent never flinched a muscle.

"Slick-assed business man with a hefty cheque book...," the man spat
out contemptuously, "...yeah, Davoren sure offered us a damn nice price
fer you and that little chick, but it's still too damn low!!"

Vincent made no comment. An awkward silence followed.

"WELL, WHERE ARE YA, FREAK?!!" shouted the enraged mercenary
impatiently, "WE GONNA PLAY CAT 'N MOUSE ALL FRIGGIN' NIGHT?!! COME OUT
BEFORE I....."

Without warning, Vincent suddenly dashed across the road at full speed,
right behind the mercenary's back. On detecting the black figure whizz
by, the brawny man immediately opened fire with a loud curse. Vincent,
however, evaded the wild bullets by rolling behind another tree; he did
not return fire.

The big mercenary rushed after Vincent towards that tree, shooting all
the way. The instant he turned around the tree, the man redoubled the
amount of gunfire to make sure he killed the enemy. But he suddenly
stopped short in complete disbelief.

Nobody was behind the tree.

Baffled by this mysterious disappearance, the man scratched the back of
his head stupidly: he could had sworn he saw "the freak" dodge behind
*this* tree. The man looked around himself again, but found no trace of
his enemy.

It all lasted a moment. The mercenary just happened to glance up the
tree, up at one of the hard branches, when he spotted a tall black
figure perched on top. Before he could even open his mouth, one clean
bullet hit him right between the eyes. The brawny mercenary stumbled
backwards, then crashed to the ground. He lay face up in the snow, his
mouth wide open and eyes blood-shot with pain; he was dead.

After luring the last mercenary to this tree, Vincent had simply lept
up to one of the branches, and ambushed the man. The bloody battle thus
concluded, Vincent gracefully hopped off the tree branch down to the
ground. He re-loaded his gun quickly, casting only an indifferent glance
at the dead man by his feet.

His sharp eyes narrowed in deep suspicion: to be sure, Davoren knew
fully well Vincent could handle these men. Trained and experienced as
most of them seeemed, these mercenaries hadn't a chance against a
professional Turk, let alone Vincent's "freaky" skills (thanks being to
his abnormal body). Though Vincent certainly felt tired after the
battle, those men hadn't caused him too much alarm or trouble.

Then why would Davoren bother hiring such men, if he knew none of them
could kill Vincent? Only Davoren himself had a fair chance against him;
both of them had underwent the same experiment, and knew each other's
abilities, not to mention fighting skills.

But Davoren hadn't shown up at all.......why?

When he suddenly remembered Aeris, a possible answer popped into
Vincent's mind: perhaps these mercenaries had simply been a
distarction....a sort of diversion to busy him. In his care to keep
Aeris out of danger, Vincent had left her *alone* in the safe thicket.
So, if he wasn't there to protect her, then Davoren could just....

Before the ominous thought could complete itself, Vincent turned around
to rush for the thicket. However, he stopped short on hearing many
footsteps running straight towards him. Suddenly, five men emerged onto
the road, all armed to the teeth. The reinforcements had finally arrived
to avenge their fallen comrades.

"AH! THERE HE IS!!!" shouted one voice.

"SHOOT HIM!! NOW!!!!" cried another loud voice.

Vincent instantly dashed away from the angry men, just as they opened
full fire on him. He flew up the winding pathway amidst the wild
gunfire, then suddenly darted to the side, right into a heavily-forested
area.

He heard the mercenaries rush after him. Their heavy boots trampled
over everything in their path; their loud voices called to each other.
It seemed these men would hunt Vincent down forever, if not to avenge
their friends, then definitely for Davoren's generous reward.

Quite wisely, Vincent resisted the urge to simply turn around and fight
his way through these men. On the other hand, he refused to drag out the
battle like last time. He needed to reach the thicket immediately.

His brain drew up a dozen plans, recommending some and rejecting
others. At last, Vincent decided his course of action: he'd fight these
infuriated men while at the same time make his way to the thicket. He'd
have to eliminate his enemies swiftly and move on, but also keep a cool
head and his wits about him.

Therefore, without further debate, Vincent decidedly tightened his grip
on his gun.

During all this time, Aeris had remained safely hidden behind the tree
in the dark thicket. The girl had sat huddled up against the rough bark,
listening anxiously to the heavy silence. She had, of course, given a
violent start on hearing the very first shot, but somehow had forced
herself to remain still.

As the loud battle raged on, stopping for a minute then restarting
again, Aeris felt her heart sicken with anticipation. Her limbs hadn't
stopped trembling, nor would the fearful thoughts spare her mind.

She heard many rough, faint cries re-echo in the far distance, and mad
gunfire tear through the air. Yet to be honest, those noises didn't
frighten her that much. The horrible image of Davoren caused her this
distress; the ruthless gunman constantly haunted her, blocking out all
other thoughts.

Even though Vincent had almost assured her that man wasn't there, Aeris
could not rid herself of this one fear: being captured and dragged,
against all struggling and tearful pleas, straight back to the
"Professor"...back to torture, darkness, and endless nightmares.....

Aeris huddled herself further against the tree, as if it would somehow
shelter her anguished mind from these nagging fears.

"..I..I want to go home..," she whispered inaudibly to herself, "..dear
God..I just want to go home..."

A long, long silence followed.

"tsk tsk," answered a calm, playful voice out of nowhere, "Now isn't
this a bad place to find a sweet little girl like you."

The familiar voice petrified Aeris beyond description.

She immediately sprang up, looking all around herself to find the
dreaded speaker. Her nervous eyes darted from one corner to the other:
nothing but shadows and bleak darkness, frozen trees and empty bushes.
In her great fright, had she simply imagined the voice?

"Here. Up here," called the voice, sensing her confusion.

Aeris looked up the stout, knotted tree she had been hiding behind all
this time. She spotted on one of the branches high up, Davoren seated
quite comfortably. His back leaned against the main tree trunk, while
one leg dangled down in the air. He gazed amusedly down at the
astonished girl.

"Hello, my dear," he greeted with the politest smile, "Long time, no
see. Did you miss me as much as I missed you?"

Poor Aeris could only stare back at him in speechless horror. If she
had enough strength to describe the man's gleaming pink eyes, she would
have probably just called them "evil".