Viral Love

“Where’s the Haunted Hotel?” I snarled the question at a random woman.

“S-straight down the next pipe,” she answered, her eyes huge with fear.

I supposed I did look fearful. I barely had control of myself to prevent a full Jenova form transformation. Having to fight off a muscle-bound moron tended to put me off my normal level of calm, which wasn’t great in the first place.

Valentine would pay for dumping me with that man. He’d pay big time. I was going to punch him in the gut so hard he’d puke. I wouldn’t mess up that pretty face. Oh, no. No, I’d leave his pretty face totally untouched.

How dare Valentine sell my ass to that inflated, egotistical bully? He’d pimp me out but he wouldn’t fuck me himself? Dear fucking Shiva, I’d love to teach him a lesson.

I popped out of the tube and right into a graveyard. At first it gave me a terrific jolt, then I accidentally kicked over a tombstone and found it to be cardboard. I tried to step over it and suddenly dropped into another fucking tube. I found myself back in Event Square.

Furious, I retraced my steps and dropped back into the graveyard. I belonged in here. I looked exactly like the arch-type mad scientist, making his way back to his castle after transforming into something awful to wreck the countryside. All I needed was my lost, beloved lab coat.

I huffed and panted all the way up the artificial, atmospherically leaf strewn hill. Barging in, I made to march to the counter, but a man in a hangman’s noose dropped right in front of me with a blood-curdling scream. “Welcome to the Haunted Hotel,” he intoned just as I drew back with the intention to hit him and flee for my life.

“Where’s your guest register?” I demanded of the fake suicide victim.

“We don’t shaaaaare thaaaat,” he replied, putting on a fairly realistic representation of a man spasming in his death throes.

I grabbed his collar, absently noting the harness he used to keep himself suspended as if hanging by the neck. “Where is your registry?” I repeated slowly, twisting the fabric under my hands. “Hand it over before I asphyxiate you for real!”

He complied, gagging a little. I dropped him, and the tension on the wire he hung from, jerked him nearly into the ceiling. Ignoring the hubbub, I opened the book and scanned it. There, the fake name he’d used at the last, horribly haunted hotel. Room 238.

I slammed the book down and made for the stairs, passing through an upsettingly convincing ghost. Fuming, I dodged a group of staff dressed as goblins, and hit the stairs.

One, two, three, four, five, six…

I was going to throw him down on the floor and tear at HIS clothes the way Dio had torn at mine.

Seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven…

How would HE like it when he realized he had to either fight me or get ass raped?

Twelve, thirteen. I looked down the hallway. His room was on the very end. Good. We’d need plenty of space.

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Relaxing for the first time in weeks without Hojo’s presence felt strange. I supposed I’d gotten used to his whining and strange antics. Oh well. I enjoyed solitude, and I’d make use of my alone time.

I jerked as the door burst open. Hojo strode in like a man on fire, slamming the door behind him and locking it. His eyes showed electric green around the black, and his body trembled all over.

“That didn’t take long,” I observed.

“Indeed, no,” he answered me, his voice quiet and menacing. From his pocket he withdrew a little vial of what looked like oil. “It doesn’t take long when you have lube, as you are about to find out, Vincent Valentine.”

I couldn’t do more than tense up before I found myself in the floor, under Hojo, his tentacles wrapping around me with breathtaking speed. He knocked the wind out of me and imprisoned me in less than five seconds.

“You sold me to that man,” he said, tone low and terrible. He held the vial between us and slowly twisted off the cap. “Well, I wouldn’t take any amount of gil to let you go, Vincent. I’m going to shove my dick so far up your ass that you taste me.”

I really couldn’t move. His arms were free and I couldn’t even twitch.

“Afraid?” Hojo asked, not seeming to enjoy that idea as much as I might have expected. He put the vial behind his ear and began un-strapping my top.

Yes, I was, but not for the reason he believed. I didn’t for a minute think he’d rape me. He seemed capable of a great many things, but not of taking me against my will. No, I feared that I might enjoy this. He already had my blood singing, my pulse hammering.

Hojo wrestled me upright and stripped me of the shirt. To my surprise he put my gauntlet right back on. Meeting my eyes, I saw his gaze beginning to soften just the smallest bit. Suddenly, they hardened again, and he drew back, punching me solidly in the gut. I almost puked he hit me so hard, and I knew I’d hurt for a few days even with my accelerated healing.

Hojo got off of me, withdrawing his tentacles. He threw the vial, and it bounced off my chest to clatter to the floor. “Screw you,” he said coldly. “I couldn’t get it up to rape you.” With that, he turned and walked out of my room.

I knew he wouldn’t come back.