Beneath the Red
folder
Final Fantasy VII › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
7
Views:
859
Reviews:
31
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Final Fantasy VII › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
7
Views:
859
Reviews:
31
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Final Fantasy VII, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Dark Secret
*’member all those story codes I posted that seemed all scary? Yeah, that would
be here, mostly the torture part*
WARNING: IF NEEDLES OR SURGERY MAKE YOU QUEEZY, SKIP AHEAD A BIT, TRUST ME.
Beneath the Red
Chapter Two
Dark Secret
#### ### ###
Static, then an image. Muffled audio, clearing up as the file progressed.
“Subject Specimen 9, December 5th, test three.”
Hojo wrote a few things down on his clipboard and adjusted the restraints on his
specimen—a human male with shiny black hair grown past his ears, naked, bruised and
helpless.
“How are you feeling today, Vincent?”
“Go away…” the subject mumbled miserably, turning his head away.
“Today we will be continuing Jenova therapy,” Hojo said into the mic, bringing out a tray
of sterilized needles with sensors affixed at the ends. “Research will be conducted on the
reactivity to elemental Mako and Jenova cell enhancement.” He turned to his subject and
pulled on some latex gloves. There was a visible smirk on his face. “Don’t worry,
discomfort is … normal for this procedure.”
The subject closed his eyes, looking like he was trying to focus on something else other
than thick, sharp needles being slid under the skin at least half an inch. He bore the insertion
of about 78 of them directly into his veins—particularly the ones under more sensitive flesh at
the inner arms, wrists, neck and feet—with a grimace.
“You like that, don’t you?” Hojo sneered, just barely in range of the microphone. He was hard,
stretching his pants and enjoying every minute in his sick twisted way. He came back to the
mic. “Commencing test one.”
Vincent screamed as electricity danced between the needle-tips, the agony obviously beyond
all pride or shame. His muscles strained in vain against the straps. There was laughter.
“Test two…”
Five tests later left the subject bloody and exhausted with pain, but still conscious. Hojo couldn’t
contain himself anymore it seemed. He cranked the platform around at a 30 degree angle with
his subject hanging down and released the throbbing hard on from his coat. Grabbing his subject’s
hair he roughly shoved the ugly thing down Vincent’s throat, fucking the delicate mouth and
disregarding the chokes and vomit. His victim was too weak to resist.
Throwing the platform back to a 180 Hojo threw open the leg restraints and violated his specimen,
probing and fucking him without sympathy or abandon. His subject clenched his teeth, fists and
eyes—refusing to cry.
Static.
############### ### ###### #
“Subject Specimen 9, January 22nd, test 38. How do you feel, Vincent?”
His subject didn’t reply. He was in a different position now, on something similar to a wrack. His
head hung low and his hair was grown past his chin. Scabs and scars covered his body—very much
so on his left arm.
“Subject has become dramatically less responsive,” Hojo noted to the mic. “Infection of the left
limb has spread midway to the joint, and is unresponsive to curative Materia.”
“I hate you…” the specimen slurred druggedly.
“Nurse, prepare for an amputation procedure. This ridiculous infection is interfering with my
readings.”
“Sir, we are out of anesthetic.” The microphone just barely caught the female voice in the
background. “Our next order comes in next week.”
“Did I ask for anesthetic?”
*
Cid jumped as he heard the high-pitched ring of the PHS down the hall. The thing was abnormally
loud, and it startled his edgy nerves. What he was watching wasn’t helping either. It made his
stomach churn uncomfortably to watch the amputation. Vincent was awake—awake and aware as they
sliced in, tied off veins and tore the bone off. What was worse was that those eyes watched every
second of it. Obscenities not even Cid had uttered were screamed out in light of this fiery anguish
from his pretty little mouth. Vincent watched them, his face all twisted in horror, fear and anger, like
he couldn’t take his eyes away as they grafted that ugly claw onto him… just like Cid couldn’t tear his
eyes away.
Finally he just selected the next file, for fear of his now overactive bile duct.
*
#### ########### # ## ### ###### #
“…How do you feel, Vincent?”
The subject looked up with a hollow expression of apathy. Those eyes burned not a pale blue anymore,
but a deep crimson. His hair was well past his shoulders now. Hojo brushed it and Vincent scowled at the
contact.
“She’s dead you know.”
Vincent perked and squinted in suspicion.
“Lucretia It’s a pity really. We were considering getting married—for the cause you know…”
“Like hell you were…” the subject growled.
Hojo raised an eyebrow—the specimen rarely communicated anymore. “Really, we were. The child was
a complete success, but the mother died of Mako Poisoning. Funny… she was asking about you before
the end…”
Vincent suddenly snapped and exploded in a fury of screams. “YOU KILLED HER YOU SICK
FUCK!” he
howled, spitting in Hojo’s face. “YOU LIED TO HER! SHE TRUSTED YOU!!!!”
“There’s no need to get upset now…” Hojo told him dismissively, wiping his face. “She knew the risk—,”
“THAT BABY WAS MINE YOU FUCK—NOT YOURS, MINE!! YOU HAD NO RIGHT—!!”
“Subject is becoming hostile, begin to commence lock down…”
“Maybe I deserved the shit—the sadistic SHIT you put me through—BUT NOT HER! NOT
LUCRECIA!!” he
screamed, literally freaking out. His cries turned inhuman and a shriek of pain erupted from him.
He writhed and spasmed against the restraints, which began to tear. Fangs ripped out from his
existing teeth, his eyes burned red and his skin began to churn a sickly purple color. Something
monstrous began to crawl out from under his skin—something able to break free of the restraints.
“Red alert!! Subject is loose and hostile!! Lock down! Repeat! Lock! Down!”
Static.
############################################################
Cid was horrified. There they were—all the answers to his superficial little questions. The
trauma, the torture, and the constant rape… all the pieces fell into place. Anyone with something
like that eating at his psyche was surely insane! Or at least in Vincent’s case, so withdrawn that
social contact was next to impossible.
His heart broke for Vincent. Now that he had figured the man out, there had to be a way—
Cid was ripped out off the chair and thrown into the metal hull—pinned against the wall by a golden
metal claw. The cigarette was forced out of his mouth, along with any air in his mouth and bravery
in his gut.
Vincent wasn’t even looking at him. His expression was calm, his eyes were closed and the only
indication that he was infuriated enough to kill was the slight twitch of his eyebrow.
“No one… no one … has ever seen that footage… and lived to tell about it. Not a soul.”
End Chapter Two
************************************************************
*poor vinny… please r/r.
be here, mostly the torture part*
WARNING: IF NEEDLES OR SURGERY MAKE YOU QUEEZY, SKIP AHEAD A BIT, TRUST ME.
Beneath the Red
Chapter Two
Dark Secret
#### ### ###
Static, then an image. Muffled audio, clearing up as the file progressed.
“Subject Specimen 9, December 5th, test three.”
Hojo wrote a few things down on his clipboard and adjusted the restraints on his
specimen—a human male with shiny black hair grown past his ears, naked, bruised and
helpless.
“How are you feeling today, Vincent?”
“Go away…” the subject mumbled miserably, turning his head away.
“Today we will be continuing Jenova therapy,” Hojo said into the mic, bringing out a tray
of sterilized needles with sensors affixed at the ends. “Research will be conducted on the
reactivity to elemental Mako and Jenova cell enhancement.” He turned to his subject and
pulled on some latex gloves. There was a visible smirk on his face. “Don’t worry,
discomfort is … normal for this procedure.”
The subject closed his eyes, looking like he was trying to focus on something else other
than thick, sharp needles being slid under the skin at least half an inch. He bore the insertion
of about 78 of them directly into his veins—particularly the ones under more sensitive flesh at
the inner arms, wrists, neck and feet—with a grimace.
“You like that, don’t you?” Hojo sneered, just barely in range of the microphone. He was hard,
stretching his pants and enjoying every minute in his sick twisted way. He came back to the
mic. “Commencing test one.”
Vincent screamed as electricity danced between the needle-tips, the agony obviously beyond
all pride or shame. His muscles strained in vain against the straps. There was laughter.
“Test two…”
Five tests later left the subject bloody and exhausted with pain, but still conscious. Hojo couldn’t
contain himself anymore it seemed. He cranked the platform around at a 30 degree angle with
his subject hanging down and released the throbbing hard on from his coat. Grabbing his subject’s
hair he roughly shoved the ugly thing down Vincent’s throat, fucking the delicate mouth and
disregarding the chokes and vomit. His victim was too weak to resist.
Throwing the platform back to a 180 Hojo threw open the leg restraints and violated his specimen,
probing and fucking him without sympathy or abandon. His subject clenched his teeth, fists and
eyes—refusing to cry.
Static.
############### ### ###### #
“Subject Specimen 9, January 22nd, test 38. How do you feel, Vincent?”
His subject didn’t reply. He was in a different position now, on something similar to a wrack. His
head hung low and his hair was grown past his chin. Scabs and scars covered his body—very much
so on his left arm.
“Subject has become dramatically less responsive,” Hojo noted to the mic. “Infection of the left
limb has spread midway to the joint, and is unresponsive to curative Materia.”
“I hate you…” the specimen slurred druggedly.
“Nurse, prepare for an amputation procedure. This ridiculous infection is interfering with my
readings.”
“Sir, we are out of anesthetic.” The microphone just barely caught the female voice in the
background. “Our next order comes in next week.”
“Did I ask for anesthetic?”
*
Cid jumped as he heard the high-pitched ring of the PHS down the hall. The thing was abnormally
loud, and it startled his edgy nerves. What he was watching wasn’t helping either. It made his
stomach churn uncomfortably to watch the amputation. Vincent was awake—awake and aware as they
sliced in, tied off veins and tore the bone off. What was worse was that those eyes watched every
second of it. Obscenities not even Cid had uttered were screamed out in light of this fiery anguish
from his pretty little mouth. Vincent watched them, his face all twisted in horror, fear and anger, like
he couldn’t take his eyes away as they grafted that ugly claw onto him… just like Cid couldn’t tear his
eyes away.
Finally he just selected the next file, for fear of his now overactive bile duct.
*
#### ########### # ## ### ###### #
“…How do you feel, Vincent?”
The subject looked up with a hollow expression of apathy. Those eyes burned not a pale blue anymore,
but a deep crimson. His hair was well past his shoulders now. Hojo brushed it and Vincent scowled at the
contact.
“She’s dead you know.”
Vincent perked and squinted in suspicion.
“Lucretia It’s a pity really. We were considering getting married—for the cause you know…”
“Like hell you were…” the subject growled.
Hojo raised an eyebrow—the specimen rarely communicated anymore. “Really, we were. The child was
a complete success, but the mother died of Mako Poisoning. Funny… she was asking about you before
the end…”
Vincent suddenly snapped and exploded in a fury of screams. “YOU KILLED HER YOU SICK
FUCK!” he
howled, spitting in Hojo’s face. “YOU LIED TO HER! SHE TRUSTED YOU!!!!”
“There’s no need to get upset now…” Hojo told him dismissively, wiping his face. “She knew the risk—,”
“THAT BABY WAS MINE YOU FUCK—NOT YOURS, MINE!! YOU HAD NO RIGHT—!!”
“Subject is becoming hostile, begin to commence lock down…”
“Maybe I deserved the shit—the sadistic SHIT you put me through—BUT NOT HER! NOT
LUCRECIA!!” he
screamed, literally freaking out. His cries turned inhuman and a shriek of pain erupted from him.
He writhed and spasmed against the restraints, which began to tear. Fangs ripped out from his
existing teeth, his eyes burned red and his skin began to churn a sickly purple color. Something
monstrous began to crawl out from under his skin—something able to break free of the restraints.
“Red alert!! Subject is loose and hostile!! Lock down! Repeat! Lock! Down!”
Static.
############################################################
Cid was horrified. There they were—all the answers to his superficial little questions. The
trauma, the torture, and the constant rape… all the pieces fell into place. Anyone with something
like that eating at his psyche was surely insane! Or at least in Vincent’s case, so withdrawn that
social contact was next to impossible.
His heart broke for Vincent. Now that he had figured the man out, there had to be a way—
Cid was ripped out off the chair and thrown into the metal hull—pinned against the wall by a golden
metal claw. The cigarette was forced out of his mouth, along with any air in his mouth and bravery
in his gut.
Vincent wasn’t even looking at him. His expression was calm, his eyes were closed and the only
indication that he was infuriated enough to kill was the slight twitch of his eyebrow.
“No one… no one … has ever seen that footage… and lived to tell about it. Not a soul.”
End Chapter Two
************************************************************
*poor vinny… please r/r.