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A/N- Hey, this is my first fanfic that I'm actually going to finish for a change. Also the first that I'm putting on So, this is based on Final Fantasy VIII, two years after the destruction of Edea. This will include some (but not all) of the characters from the game and only a few of my own. And please, if you find this first chapter too gory, please don't read the other chapters. This is rated R for a reason. )

Chapter 1 Blood Queen

-The streets were empty and quiet that night. So quiet that even the whimper of a small, bruised child could've been heard if the right people had listened.-

The round perfect-circle moon hung tranquilly in the sky as it normally did. It would've been a breath-taking sight, if it wasn't for the shrouding, silhouetted clouds. It made everything on the ground below seem so dead. The air was moist and windless. Groups of leaves sat soundlessly along abandoned streets, as if they were people waiting to see a good play tonight. The buildings surrounding the street leered inwards towards the street, casting long foreboding shadows that could've warned even a simple cat not to stray out that night .
The clouds slowly made their passage across the somewhat starry sky, letting light from the moon's blushing face spill onto the dark pavement ever so often. Finally, small noises echoed into the street. Footsteps and female's weak shrieks of sullen fear. The steps were struggled and uneven as they made their way into the road. If only somebody, anybody, was awake to hear her.

Moonlight trickled onto the blond girl's hair, as it then made it's way down tear-stained cheeks as she became more visible in the street (only because the clouds were generous enough to let some peeks of moonlight through). Her eyes quickly flashed with fear and dread as she lost her weak footing and fell down onto the streets panting heavily, wincing as if her lungs were caving in. Beads of perspiration dripped down her pale skin but she had no time to contemplate what to do next, as a young man had accompanied her all too soon.
The girl clawed at the street to maybe, just maybe hoist her limping body up to escape her awaking fate, but her plan of action was immediately halted to a stop as the man dug a large, brown boot into the small of her back. The girl squeaked pitifully and collapsed with agony as he pressed harder on her back, purposely applying just enough pressure to make her unable to utter a single cry of help. Her throat was too clogged for usage anyways, by the blood that was building up in her lungs. Her shaking fists clenched as her pale lips made out a silent word of prayer. But the only noise that came out of her, was the soft snapping of her back.
Finally her cruel capture took his boot off her of back, but as he did so, he violently kicked her in the side so she lay on her back. The girl looked at him, softly choking and wheezing to get air past the blood that was caught in her throat. Some of it was already welling up and dripping out of the corners of her mouth. It was obvious she wanted badly to escape the clutches of such inhuman torture, as anyone would, but her bruised and battered body couldn't handle to save her anymore.

The man sickly stared down at her, but she could only stare back into his soul-lacking eyes, as she continued to cough of globs of thick, warm blood. Her useless arms and legs twitched ever so slightly in a mad fury to get up. She had to get out of there. The man watched her for a moment more, savoring the last of his fun with her. It was now time to finish his prey off. He decided to end this game by quickly straddling himself onto her chest, pressing himself painfully against the girl's stomach, causing her to violently spit up more liquid. She squirmed in a futile attempt to get his weight off of her meek frame, although even she knew she was done for.

All hope is lost.
He slowly, as if willingly taking his time with her, slid a thick, curved knife out of his coat pocket. She watched with horror as he did this, yet she was thankful she wouldn't have to suffer through this much longer. Her tears had stopped by now, as she was out dry. She had cried so much that night... for her family, for her friends, for the future she'd never have. She was, after all, only 16.

The man finally, after what seemed like hours, plunged the knife straight into her throat so far in, it went through the back of her neck and hit the street with an almost inaudible chink. She chokingly gasped and her blood sprayed and blotted the man's shadowed face, but he carelessly wiped it off with the sleeve of his coat. As for the blood around his mouth. . . He licked it off.

Knowing that she couldn't speak now or ever again, he carefully got off her, as to not disturb her dying process. She bled, bled, bled until she could bleed no more, crimson trailing down the street and pooling around her head for her hair to soak up. The man waited until her eyes were finally glazed over and ever-staring before he picked up her sickly limp body. He slung the girl over his shoulder as if she were naught but a doll and made down the street, a calm, yet so menacing grin plastered on his sunken features. A grin of victory to the very first victim to trigger so many more. . . Soon.

I see you.