AUTHOR'S NOTES: All Final Fantasy VII characters, vehicles and themes © Squaresoft, and no infringement is intended.
Repressed Memories
Chapter Eight: Enter SOLDIER
Written by Cloud

     The SOLDIER barracks loomed above me in bright blue glory. The building was nearly as tall as it was wide, its frame heavily armored to prevent and aerial strike. It was within this cube that the best Shinra troops and recruits of the Turks fought and trained to enter the ranks of Shinra's most prestigious military guard. The program had been in effect ever since the war with Wutai had begun, when Sephiroth had first become a hero to the people of Midgar. Sephiroth. The cloaked man hadn't given me any papers or means of getting into the program. I guessed I would just walk on in and see what was what. The man who stood by the large, mechanical door was the size of a mountain. He wasn't portly, just big, and the sword he sported wasn't disproportional. It too was huge, slightly larger than Zack's buster sword and double-edged. The blade looked extremely sharp; sharp enough to cleave a hair it two.
     A golden helmet adorned the big man's head, his massive chest protected by a thick breastplate. He spoke in a booming voice,
     "Who in the name of Bahumat are you?" the sound echoed through the streets. I couldn't speak out of sheer fear- my heart was in my throat. The Titan drew his sword, brandishing the glimmering blade menacingly. I ripped the HardEdge from its scabbard, perspiration beading down my neck. Without a word the warrior stabbed at my gut with lightning speed. I jumped back in awe, my brand meeting his with a powerful clang that shook the broadsword nearly out of my grasp. I deflected the sword up and over, amazed at the giant's insurmountable strength. I knew I'd never be able to beat this monster, but there was precious little I could do to stop myself in mid-battle. The golden sword came whipping at my head, nearly decapitating me as I narrowly avoided the strike. Blonde spikes flew in every direction, their polygonal features obscuring my vision as I realized I'd just gotten a free haircut. The world shifted, a horrific growl escaping from my lips as I slashed wildly at the gigantic guard.      The speed at which he parried my blows was astonishing for one so large, but though his skill amazed me I didn't let up. I slashed at the giant again and again, and every time he blocked or deflected it with ease. My rage took over as I charged blade first at the man, death on the end of my shining sword. He quickly steeped aside and kicked at be from behind, nailing me in the ass as I went flying into the armored wall of the building.
     "Cloud Strife, I presume." The titan mouthed, sheathing his sword. The golden light of the brand disappeared into its scabbard and the whole sky seemed to darken. "Sephiroth said you had an anger problem."
     "That's the understatement of the year." I replied, forcing myself to my feet. I was scraped raw, my blood staining my torn tunic and spilling into the filthy streets. My knees were quivering with fear, as they always did when I had lost a fight and I knew it.
     "Here." The monolith of a man said gruffly as he gestured oddly, "Cure 3!" he shouted to the heavens, and iridescent light encompassed my wounded body, bringing healing and revitalization in its wake. My body was free of the pain I had experienced, and my joints were moving better than ever.
     "Let's go another round, big guy!" I shouted arrogantly at the monster. He laughed in his big booming voice, before bellowing back at me,
     "Sure thing kid, but you're not getting a cure spell this time…"

     It would have to be cut off.
     My hair was sliced clean through the top, a jagged angle of uneven spikes four inches shorter than they normally were. I wanted to smash the mirror, but what good would that do? Sighing with regret, I took the shiny pair of scissors and lopped off what little of my hair remained, cutting it down to a hideously short length. I didn't even have any shaving crème, and I'd never had to do anything like this before. Growling with anger, I took the bar of soap in my hands, spreading the lather over my grisly head. Picking up the razor the big man had provided- his name was Jim Williams- I proceeded to scrape the hair off of my skull in long strokes of the blade. My unsteady hand hit a bump, slicing into my scalp and bringing the crimson trickle of blood to spill down my face. Dammit! I struck the mirror in utter rage, splintering the center and slicing the hell out of my hand in the process. Now instead of one bloody, matted version of myself, I saw seven small ones.
     "Seven years bad luck…" the blood-drenched figures in the glass stated in unison, "…just what I need."
     I finished shaving the stubble off my clotted head, the whole world turning crimson as the hot, sticky liquid spilled into my eyes. As quickly as possible I jumped into the shower, fumbling with the handle until the warm glory stung my cuts and washed over my bruises. I watched the reddened water rush from my head, changing the crimson to pink, and finally clear. The cut had sealed itself up! My joy was short-lived as the hot water turned to an icy chill, freezing me senseless and sending goose bumps up my flesh. The showerhead froze and shattered, replaced by a block of ice. I tossed the shower curtain open, revealing a grinning Zack holding his shimmering Ice materia. I wasn't the least bit amused.
     "Had to make an entrance, didn't ya asshole?" I asked glumly. Zack shrugged, handing me a towel.
     "Hey, I could've used the Bolt materia…" Despite my ire I grinned, and felt quite a chill as I did so. I wrapped the towel around my shaking form, suddenly feeling very small.
     "How's Aeris?" I asked quickly, without really even thinking. Zack's face grew dark and resentment burned a violent fury in his green eyes as if the blazing fires of Hell were hidden beneath them.
     "She's…fine." He replied, quickly turning away in a rush of air that seemed to chill the room a few more degrees. I must have struck a nerve, this wasn't like Zack at all.
     "What happened?" I asked as gently as I could.
     "N- Nothing." He stammered, fidgeting like a child. I decided, perhaps it would be better to let him keep to himself. Of course I was curious, but he would let it out when he was ready. Zack was always good about that, I'm always the one that bottles everything up inside…
     A blaring klaxon interrupted my thoughts and was followed by a militaristic voice over the loud speaker.
     [Zack Strife and Cloud Garek, report to administration immediately!] There was a loud click and silence followed. A smile formed at the edges of Zack's mouth and burst free into that familiar smirk I had come to know so well.
     "They're the most powerful corporation on the face of the Planet and they can't even get our names right!" he exclaimed. I was beginning to laugh as I spastically pulled myself together in a half-assed attempt to get out the door.
     "Look on the bright side," I muttered, "at least you still have hair."

     The administration section was the smallest wing in the azure cube that formed the SOLDIER trainee headquarters. It was very Spartan, with no potted plants, windows, or artwork that would normally adorn an office such as this. Simply and bluntly put, it was a cell- a cell where old SOLDIERS went to die.
     The weathered face of the man who sat before me was sagging with age, his wrinkles underlining a balding head and discolored skin. He sat in a wheelchair; it creaked eerily back and forth as if the poor old man was waiting for Death to claim him with grim anticipation. It was a grisly scene, and one I wanted no part of. I offered the man no condolence, I just wanted to get my papers and get into the training program as soon as possible.
     The man spoke in a rasping voice, his wheelchair creaking back and forth across the floorboards.
     "Clow…Clow….Clowd…?" he gasped. My knees locked in utter fear and I couldn't advance.
     "Yes, sir…" I stammered stupidly, "I'm Cloud…"
     "Clow…d…" he rasped, "You will be…will…be…you are…the master…of…your…own…illusionary…world…*…"
     The old man fell forward on his desk, his body slumping as his ragged head crashed into the name tag that sat as the only ornament on his desk- dead. The tag clattered across the desk and onto the floor at my feet, stained with blood from the old man's crown. I stooped over and picked it up.

     Howard R. Valentine
     Former Turk
     Former SOLDIER First Class
     Chief of Administration

     I felt strong arms grab me by the waist, the tag falling to the ground. My arms were restrained as the guards who were patrolling outside took me prisoner for a crime I did not commit.
     "Wait!" I cried, "I didn't do this!"
     "Murderer!" the SOLDIER shouted, conking me over the head with the hilt of his sword. I saw the crimson trail of blood fly from my head as my world fell to blackness.

     Lost in myself again.
     I stood there, amongst the muck and darkness that I knew within my heart was merely the reaches of my own shattered mind. My subconscious was trying to take control of me again, trying to take away my soul. Dammit! Stop it! I can't die yet! I'm only a kid! I won't die; I refuse! You cannot claim me, Fate! Damn you, damn you and your lies! I've lived in death for almost fifteen years, but it's over! You hear me?! OVER! I choose life and no one can take it from me! Do you hear?! I CHOOSE LIFE!!!
     The darkness laughed at my strangled shouts, and the blackness began to take shape, a form. It had the features of a man, broad shoulders, arms and legs; but the blackness spilled from it in ebony sheets. It had no face, only opaque obscurity that had taken a humanistic form. The only feature it had that could be considered distinguishable were it's eyes, evil green eyes burning bright like smoldering coals, enveloping my mind and my world. I stared into those emerald globes, losing myself again to no one but me. It's all insanity, perhaps, but that doesn't make it any less true.
     The brimstone figure advanced, my perception falling to nothingness in the twisted realm of my subconscious. It was all I could do to stare into those glowing eyes, my thoughts and memories being ripped from me in a stream of blackened death that had its origins in the creature. IT WAS STEALING MY MEMORIES! Everything that was Cloud Strife was being torn from me, my mind ripped asunder and collapsed in on itself. I couldn't scream, couldn't do anything to defend myself. I fell into the emerald pools that were its eyes, hypnotized and completely helpless. When it could drain no more from me, it lowered it's blacken hand, laughing maniacally. Those eyes glowed with intensity as it grew in size, it's girth multiplying and encompassing my reality. Finally it pounced like a lion, raking my flesh with unseen talons. My life spilled before me in the realm of my insanity, red running in pools against the ashen ground. And then it left me- bleeding, broken and dying within the prison of my own mind.

     Where am I? Who am I? My memory…since when? If everything's a dream, don't wake me. I don't want to know, don't want to remember. Life is Hell, when does it end? I'm nothing; I'm all alone now. I have no memories, no friends, no family, no love- no life to speak of. I lay in stasis within myself, awaiting the inevitable. My mind would not budge- everything was gone. My eyes took the liberty I could not; they forced themselves open, unbidden.
     I stared into green Hell, my mouth and nose tied to a machine that supplied me with the breath that was coming in gasps. The warm, sticky liquid was fusing itself with me. Mako! I was being treated with Mako! I remember…Sephiroth. I had met the Great Sephiroth, fought with him. I must be a member of SOLDIER! But what was my name?
     "Clou…" I moaned, "Clou…?" I seem to have captured the attention of the man in the white lab coat. What was his name? I knew this man, had seen him somewhere before, but I couldn't place him. Then why was it I was suddenly quivering with fear?      "Ah, Cloud is finally awake…My precious specimen…"
     Cloud. That was my name, Cloud.
     "Murdering the chief of administration got you into a lot of trouble," the scientist continued, "you are fortunate that they handed you over to me."
     Wait a minute! I was a murderer!? It was certainly possible- I couldn't remember a damn thing. But I would never do something like that, kill somebody without a reason. There had to be a reason, there must have been something good that could come from it.
     "Wait!" I screamed through the tube, but if the scientist could hear my cries he gave no indication- his face was like a block of marble.
     "Boost the power!" the man in the lab coat commanded some unseen underling. The Mako swelled around me, forcing itself into my body and nearly crushing me. I couldn't even scream; the pain was tearing into my system like poison tipped needles stabbing through every pore of my skin. PAIN! Real pain, red dripping out of me as I slowly bled away into the verdant ooze. Something stabbed into my arm with incredulous force, injecting me with something my body did not want to share its casing with. It burned in my veins; pulsing and taking control, yet my body still rejected it, sending convulsions from head to toe. I jerked in pain and wanted to vomit into the tube, but I swallowed it back down, knowing that if I retched anything I would cut off my air supply.
     "More power!" the maniac shouted, "MORE! MORE POWER!!! MORE!!!" His maniacal laughter filled my senses like the pounding pulse of a steel drum in my head. My heart was pounding, as the already unbearable situation worsened- throwing me into a fiery agony that seemed to encompass my very being. And still he didn't stop! Not satisfied with my suffering, he upped the power again and again, until the world glowed pale green with shimmering intensity. The last thing I saw before passing out again were the scientist's eyes, twisted and bulging- completely insane.