The Final Betrayal


There was no other way to describe it; it was just hot! Midgar was caught in the middle of a scorcher of a summer heat wave. Everyone was inside, whether at work or at home. Even the practice field, normally crowded with members of SOLDIER, was deserted. Outside the ShinRa's main building, a young woman stood, smoking a cigarette. A cloud of smoke billowed from her lips, obscuring her face.
As the smoke cleared, the girl's face was revealed. She had dark blonde hair, blue-grey eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses, and a pale complexion. A second cloud of smoke billowed from her lips, catching in a small breeze that began blowing. The girl closed her eyes and leaned against the wall. That breeze feels good, she thought. She took out a dingy white handkerchief from the pocket of the lab coat she wore, wiped the sweat from her forehead, then replaced the handkerchief back in her pocket. Damn, it's hot! Why in Hell don't they put in some inside smoking rooms? No smoking in the building, my arse! I've seen Reno light up more times than I can count. 'Course, he is a TURK.
She blew out a third cloud of smoke. Squinting at the sun, the girl thought, I can just see tomorrow's headline: Scientist Melts Into a Puddle Outside ShinRa Building. Despite herself, she smiled. Hearing footsteps to her left, she lazily turned her head in the general direction of the sound.
General Sephiroth had just come back from yet another successful mission, and was now going to his apartment in the ShinRa building. He also had a report to turn in. He stopped a moment outside the building and took a deep breath. By the Ancients, he thought, this heat is nearly unbearable. No wonder there is no one out here. Sephiroth wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of one gloved hand.
"Heat's about ta kill ya, ain't it?" a contralto voice from his left queried. Sephiroth turned quickly, startled by the voice. The girl smiled, then looked away.
"Why are you out in this heat?" Sephiroth asked. She held up her cigarette, then flipped it into a nearby ashtray. He nodded.
"They won't let me smoke inside." The girl extended her hand, which Sephiroth politely took. Despite his gentlemanly gesture, she retained her grip for a casual handshake. "My name's Jessica. You're General Sephiroth, right?"
He nodded. "Yes, that is correct," he replied, retrieving his hand from her vice-like grip. Noticing the long white lab coat she wore over her denim overalls and T-shirt, he inquired, "Are you a scientist for the ShinRa?"
Jessica returned, "Yes, General, I work under Professor Hojo, our resident psycho." She chuckled.
Sephiroth, however, was not amused. "Insulting ShinRa personel is a dangerous pasttime," he lectured. "The wrong person could hear you, and then you would be . . . ."
"In deep shit, I know," she interrupted. "'Scuse my language," she finished sheepishly.
She reminds me of Rude, Sephiroth thought dryly. Out loud, he said, "Of course."
"But you gotta admit I'm right. Doin' all those weird experiments with Mako energy. And on living creatures! That's just . . . inhumane. Evil. But all that'll soon stop."
Sephiroth looked at her sharply. "How do you know? Have you been going through your superior's notes?"
Jessica gave him a wicked smile, then reached into one of her coat's deep pockets. She extracted a small, metal object and held it up for him to see. His eyes widened when he realized what it was. A gun?! he thought in shock and disbelief. Does she intend to kill the Professor?!
The girl put a cigarette in her mouth and aimed the gun at the end. She pulled the trigger . . . and a small, blue flame flared from the barrel. Jessica lit her cigarette, and laughed when Sephiroth let out a sigh. She replaced the gun-lighter in her pocket. "What, you think I'm that dumb? Even if I was planning something like that, which I wouldn't have the guts to do, you really think I'd tell someone about it?"
The girl's militant attitude was beginning to unnerve Sephiroth. "I should go. I must report my mission." Jessica saluted Sephiroth, and he returned the salute.
He turned away, and she said, "See you later, General." He turned back around to nod, then resumed his course. Jessica stayed outside to finish her cigarette, wiping her forehead with the handkerchief again. He's kinda cute. Shit! What am I talking about? That was sensuality in its raw form! She smiled, put her cigarette out, and went inside the building herself.
When she reached the lab, Hojo was waiting for her. "Where the devil have you been? You've been gone for over an hour!" he fumed.
"Sorry, Professor," she apologized flippantly, "they won't let me smoke in the building."
He grumbled, "All right, well, make preparations for the next experiment."
"Actually, I've been meaning to talk to you about that, Professor Hojo," Jessica replied, a trifle smugly.
"Oh?" Hojo inquired. "Did something go wrong?"
She shook her head. "Not exactly." Jessica removed a switchblade from her pocket, then pushed the button, and the blade clicked into the ready position. Hojo's eyes widened in fear and . . . something else. Anger? "I want you to stop this," Jessica concluded.
"W-what-what do you mean?" Hojo stammered.
"The experiments on animals," she clarified. "I want them stopped--" she backed Hojo up against a table, then placed the knife at his throat, and a shiver of fear ran down his spine-- "or I'll kill you."
"Wait, wait. Can't we talk about this like mature, intelligent adults?" She took the knife down from his throat and he breathed a sigh of relief. "If you wanted me to stop experimenting on animals, you should have just talked to me about it. I know quite a few people in science that are appalled when someone talks about experimentation on living creatures. The death threat wasn't necessary." He extended a hand. "No hard feelings, eh?"
Jessica looked at him suspiciously. Then she put away the knife and took his hand, a smile breaking out on her face. But just as she was about to withdraw her hand, Hojo stabbed her in the crook of the elbow with a needle, injecting the syringe's contents into her. Immediately, she began to feel weak and dizzy. "What . . . did you . . . do to me, Hojo?" she demanded weakly as she swayed, dangerously close to losing her balance.
He chuckled evilly. "Don't worry, Jessica, I've got a special experiment planned for you. It worked so well on that former TURK; let's see if I can alter the procedure enough to duplicate the results on you." His evil smile confirmed what she'd suspected all along: the man was crazy.
"You . . . bastard . . . ." she spat as she collapsed on the floor.
* * *
Two weeks later, Sephiroth stepped outside his apartment to collect his paper and received a shock: on the front page, a banner headline proclamed, ShinRa Scientist Incinerated in Lab Fire. And the picture on the page was--Jessica. I told her not to insult ShinRa personel. He began to read the story out loud, but to no one in particular. Yesterday, Jessica Parker, Professor Hojo's brightest pupil, burned to death in a fire that was . . .
. . . apparently started accidentally by herself when she lit a ciagarette near some flammable laboratory chemicals. Professor Hojo was heard to say, 'She was the brightest student I ever trained. This is so unlike her. Perhaps she simply forgot that the chemicals were flammable. I have never felt to despondent in all my life . . .'
Yeah, I bet you're just absolutely crushed, you bastard.
A figure stood between two buildings in Midgar's Sector 7 slums, reading the same paper that everyone else in Midgar had gotten. The figure's glowing, blue-grey eyes raised and the face twisted into an evil grin. "So I'm dead, huh?" the figure softly inquired to the darkness as if it was a tangible thing and could hear the words. The shadow moved, and the light revealed a face--Jessica's. Now, let's see, she mused to herself, where did he say that TURK was? Oh, yeah, Nibelheim.
She stepped back into the darkness to plan her route out of Midgar. Geez, Professor, couldn't you have at least left me with my own arm? She looked down at her right arm, or rather, where her right arm used to be. In its place now was a claw. I wonder why he did that to the TURK he was telling me about. Was it revenge, like it was with me? With her left hand, her normal hand, she touched the claw that she knew she would have for the rest of her life. Ah, well, I guess I'd better start getting used to it. I got a feelin' I'm gonna have this for a long time.
"Okay, I know they're gonna be lookin' for me," Jessica realized, remembering that she'd had to force her way out of the lab. And her lab coat, overalls, and T-shirt showed the evidence of the struggle, rips marring them from about five fights. She actually frightened herself the last fight: she turned into a monster of some kind. She shivered in renewed fear. I gotta remember not to get that angry again.
An hour later, she was already on her way to Nibelheim. All right, Hojo mentioned that this dude was in cryogenic sleep, so I'd probably do best to start looking in the basement.
When Jessica arrived at Nibelheim, she noticed that people got out of her way awful quickly. It's the claw, she thought, gotta be the claw . . . . She marched up to the mansion and entered. She looked around for several seconds, then wandered about from room to room until she found a stone wall in one bedroom. Hmm. There's something not quite right about this wall . . . She pushed on the wall, and it opened.
Looking down, she noticed a spiral leading down under the mansion. Jessica entered, and quickly made her way down the spiral. Following that, she could herself in a hallway that appeared to be carved into the ground. Several minutes of searching proved futile, then she discovered a locked door. Taking out the keys she'd stolen from Hojo when she left Midgar, she tried every key until she found the one that unlocked it.
The room was filled with coffins, and the stench of death was almost too much for her heightened senses. Something told her to go straight to the coffin in the center of the room, and she did, opening it just enough to see inside. There was a man asleep in the coffin, his arms crossed over his chest. She was sure that this was him, for, sure enough, he bore the same mark she did, though his left arm was the claw.
Jessica was about to wake him, but an inexplicable tiredness washed over her, and she closed the man's coffin. She didn't know why she felt so tired, but knew she wouldn't make it out of the mansion before she collapsed. Much as I hate to do this . . . she thought, then climbed into one of the unoccupied coffins. Actually, this doesn't seem as twisted as I guessed it would. That was the last coherent thought before she dropped off into a deep, dreamless sleep, as deep a sleep as the man she'd come to see. All her hopes of revenge extinguished as she, too, succumbed to the sleep brought on by Hojo's manipulation of her body.

Fin


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