Nameless Man (FF7:DoC [PG-13])
Title: Nameless Man
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII: Dirge of Cerberus
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Rosso, G(enesis)
Summary: They called him G.
They called him G. No one ever told them his name. She heard one of the scientists say it once though. "Genesis, sir! That experiment might kill--" and then he'd grabbed the scientist by the throat and she left the adjacent corridor she'd been lurking in. Later that day she went through surgeries more excruciating than any that had come before. Mako running through her veins, blood spilling from her eyes, electricity flaring across her skin--she screamed for hours and hours and hours.
She knew him as G. He called her Crimson. Afterwards, resting in her room--her cell--and unable to move, he stopped by to see how she was doing. "Do you feel it?" He asked. She didn't know what he was talking about. His fingers brushed against her hair and over her blood streaked cheek. "A lovely color," he said. She wanted to scream at the pain his touch on her bruised skin elicited, but her voice had broken four hours into surgery.
"Do you like crimson, Crimson?" He asked. She couldn't respond. He trailed his finger across the bloody lines on her face again. "You'll be a success," he said cryptically in his lilting tones. He left her to bad dreams and post-surgery agony.
The next day the scientists took her apart and put her back together. And when she rose she thought she felt what he'd been talking about. The strength--and the madness--and she couldn't get the color crimson out of her mind. Next time he saw her he grinned and patted her on the head like a dog. "Good Crimson," he said and away went the last vestiges of her humanity.
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII: Dirge of Cerberus
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Rosso, G(enesis)
Summary: They called him G.
They called him G. No one ever told them his name. She heard one of the scientists say it once though. "Genesis, sir! That experiment might kill--" and then he'd grabbed the scientist by the throat and she left the adjacent corridor she'd been lurking in. Later that day she went through surgeries more excruciating than any that had come before. Mako running through her veins, blood spilling from her eyes, electricity flaring across her skin--she screamed for hours and hours and hours.
She knew him as G. He called her Crimson. Afterwards, resting in her room--her cell--and unable to move, he stopped by to see how she was doing. "Do you feel it?" He asked. She didn't know what he was talking about. His fingers brushed against her hair and over her blood streaked cheek. "A lovely color," he said. She wanted to scream at the pain his touch on her bruised skin elicited, but her voice had broken four hours into surgery.
"Do you like crimson, Crimson?" He asked. She couldn't respond. He trailed his finger across the bloody lines on her face again. "You'll be a success," he said cryptically in his lilting tones. He left her to bad dreams and post-surgery agony.
The next day the scientists took her apart and put her back together. And when she rose she thought she felt what he'd been talking about. The strength--and the madness--and she couldn't get the color crimson out of her mind. Next time he saw her he grinned and patted her on the head like a dog. "Good Crimson," he said and away went the last vestiges of her humanity.