railenthe | The Spectre Scene, Revisited.

And it so happens that my muses have decided to make a second version of that scene. I didn’t want to do it. They made me do it! (hides from mad scary muses) This one is a little darker, a lot bloodier, and the yaoi is even more blatant. Well, I guess it was blatant before. I mean, come on, the spectre’s male. The spectre, who is male, is effectively molesting Vincent Valentine, who we all know is all man.

I guess what I mean by ‘blatant yaoi’ is that there’s more happening than Vincent getting effectively molested. Now, it’s become more of an almost foreplay-like scene, with more sadistic attention paid to the actions performed by the spectre…well, just read it. But I’m only posting a little here so that it doesn’t mess with the entire flow.

Visible in one side of the mirror, over Vincent’s right shoulder, stood a tall shadowy figure clad in a stylishly tailored business suit. His longish hair was parted in such a way so that only one of his eyes could be seen, and that single visible eye held an almost demonic glow.
Vincent tensed almost imperceptibly as he noticed the form behind him in the mirror. Hardly moving, he threw a glance over his shoulder.
There was nothing there. Only empty space.
*_*_*
"Why are you here?" He kept the tension out of his voice, but his white-knuckle grip on the porcelain sink revealed his apprehension plainly.
The entity did not answer. Instead, it looked over Vincent’s scarred and battered body, taking in his injuries before returning its gaze to the mirror, to look at Vincent’s face. It spoke a second time. "You still haven’t given up, have you."
"Answer my question, or leave."
"Now, why would I leave?"
"You are not truly here. You do not exist."
"Really, now." Through the mirror, Vincent could see that the entity had begun to close the distance between them, yet still nothing was visible in physical space. "I’m afraid that I must argue against that conclusion…"
"Still thy tongue and be gone, foul spectre!"
"Oh, so now I’m ‘foul,’ am I?"
A brilliant flash of red light filled the small bath, blinding Vincent for a few seconds. When his vision returned, the spectre was no longer visible in the mirror. He breathed a sigh of relief—but that relief was short-lived as his right arm was wrenched painfully behind his back. A quick look behind him revealed that the ‘spectre’ was now quite solid; it even had a reflection.
"You called me foul, yet you wear a mark of your sin for all to see." His free hand slowly traced a path upward along Vincent’s left arm, the one covered by the claw. "This cursed arm…it brands you, marks you as a sinner, as the beast that you truly are." He stopped short of its edge, before metal ended and flesh began, allowing his hand to linger where it was for a second.
All of Vincent’s instincts told him to fight free of the spectre’s grasp, to escape from the unholy touch, but went unheeded as the grip pinning his human arm behind his body tightened. The spectre’s other hand altered its course, reaching the bandages covering most of his torso.
"Release me. Release me at once, or else—"
The spectre laughed. "Or else…what?" The glow in those inhuman eyes seemed to intensify as he began to undo his captive’s bandages, revealing the many not-quite-healed lacerations and gashes cutting raw paths across his body. "My, my. You’re in no condition to be making threats at all. Just look at you. All broken bones, ripped muscle, and the like…" Moving slowly, he unwrapped the last portion of the bandages, dropping the wraps to the floor carelessly. "And then there are all of these wounds you’ve got. Like this…" Idly, he ran a finger over one of the older scars on Vincent’s body.
He froze at the spectre’s touch: a solid, cold, painfully sharp sensation that sent a chill to the core of his being. The spectre doubled back on the motion, intensifying the icy sensation. "Were I but an illusion, you would not be unable to move now. Nor would this have any effect on you." He went back over that same scar’s line again, increasing the pressure. The icy path became fiery hot as the scar slowly reopened, bleeding profusely.
"Well. That doesn’t look good. Not at all." The inhuman hand didn’t move from its location for a few seconds and was bathed in blood from the reopened wound. As he lifted his hand and moved it to another scar, blood dripped from his fingers to land on the trapped man’s body and the sink. "Ah, your blood…as red as any human being’s. But we both know that you…" He ran a finger over a different scar, this one fresher, splitting it open just as he had done with the first. "…YOU are something different. Something…I don’t know. Is it more?" A third wound was opened anew. "Or something baser, less?"
Vincent was unable to move, locked tightly in the grasp of the spectre. He could do nothing but watch as one wound after another was reopened, and his body covered with his own hot blood. Slowly, the path moved over his body, until it arrived at the freshest and deepest of Vincent’s injuries.
"…And finally we arrive at what you allowed to happen today…" He allowed his hand to linger a moment at the place that had yet to begin regeneration. "What shall I do here?" The spectre smiled, an inhuman smile that knew no warmth. "Perhaps I should do nothing and simply leave you with the wounds you already have. Or perhaps I should take this one—" He rent another scar, but only shallowly "—and reopen it little by little…" He went over the same scar again, cutting more deeply than he had before. "Of course, there’s always the inelegant, yet classic tactic of simply ripping you open. There are so many options from which I can choose." The smile broadened, somehow becoming even less human than before. "However, before I decide, I think you should take a close look at yourself. Before, you were a hunter. No…a hired gun. You were a predator; now, you are the most helpless of all prey."
THAT was enough. Vincent attempted to pull free, unsuccessfully struggling against his captor’s hold. Why am I unable to escape? This is only a spectre. A hallucination brought on by the effects of my injuries—why does it hold me fast?
Another cold laugh rang out. "Why do you attempt to escape from me? It’s useless. I’m certain you’ve noticed that none of your new injuries have begun regeneration." He released his hold on Vincent’s human arm, moving has hand upwards to wrap ice-cold fingers around his neck. "Or are you blind?"
"You…foul demon," Vincent seethed, eyes now glowing dangerously. "Be gone, and return to the hell that spawned you!"
"Fool." The hand around Vincent’s neck suddenly tightened in a strangulation hold even as the one on his chest began to tear slowly into his flesh with a sickening ripping noise. "You truly have no idea…" He cut off Vincent’s scream by tightening the stranglehold, effectively cutting off the man’s air supply, and continued, "Do you know why I am here? Why a beast like you is now graced with my presence? I can tell you." He loosened his hold just enough to allow Vincent to answer his question.
"…leave me…"
"What was that, beast?"
"Why—why won’t you leave me be?!"
More laughter. "The reason why I do not leave you? It is the same reason why you cannot run from me. You want me here. You want me to inflict this pain, this suffering, upon you." He released the stranglehold abruptly, and Vincent caught himself quickly on the edge of the sink to keep himself upright, breathing ragged as he struggled for balance.
"Who…are you?" he managed between hacking coughs.
The spectre moved closer again, encircling Vincent in his arms in a sick parody of warmth, carefully avoiding the clawed arm. The bloody man shuddered in revulsion at the contact, too intimate a gesture for what seemed to have no humanity other than the outward appearance. "The answer is simple enough," he murmured in Vincent’s ear, his breath colder than the mountain winds. "I…am you."
A screeching noise cut through the near-silence as Vincent’s clawed arm gripped the porcelain of the basin tightly enough to leave deep scratches in the smooth surface. "Impossible. It—it’s impossible!"
"Is it?" His hands began to wander over Vincent’s body, leaving crimson trails wherever they went. He made a wire-thin cut on Vincent’s neck, took a moment to watch the blood rise to its surface. He then licked the blood from Vincent’s skin, eliciting a shivery gasp from the shockingly cold contact. "You know the truth in my words. You cannot escape me." The phantom let his hands move up Vincent’s chest, to his neck. "I am certain that now you see the absurdity of calling me foul." He licked the fresh trail of blood from Vincent’s neck, teeth lightly brushing against the gunman’s skin even as his tongue traced an impossibly cold path over his flesh. "I am a part of you that you cannot deny." He released Vincent from his grasp and slowly licked one bloodied finger clean with apparent relish. "I am a reflection of your darkest desires." He began to move backward, toward the wall, as he licked the last of the blood from his right hand. "So long as you refuse to move forward, I shall emerge to indulge your hidden desires…to take you to the very edge of reason, of sanity…and to hold you back from the end that you have been trying so hard to bring about for yourself."
"Leave me. I only want rest."
"Ha, ha, ha…you cannot rest. One such as you can know no respite."
"You speak nonsense…"
"I speak the truth, and you know this." Brilliant red light flashed in the room for the second time that night, and the entity vanished from view…but a disembodied voice said, "If you do not believe that I speak the truth, then sleep tonight, instead of keeping watch."
The light vanished as the voice faded.
Then there was a loud crack as the mirror’s glass splintered and broke apart.
*_*_*

What I need to know is this: Which version should I go with in the final copy. I’ve only gotten as far as the third chapter, but I know one thing for certain. And that fact is that everyone’s favorite spectre will be back for at least one more appearance. If I go with the first version (let’s call it the ‘soft’ version) then the level that I’ll need for the second appearance will be about the same as what you see here. But if I go with this one, the level for his next appearance will have to be either a) way creepier, b) way bloodier, or c) borderline smut.

For some reason, I wanna go with option c) borderline smut. Maybe I’m turning into a pervert.

Oh, on the topic of perversion, the Reno/Rufus fic is getting close to its—erm, climax.

I swear, I didn’t mean to make that pun. But I can’t come up with another way to phrase it.

*SPLAM!*