Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this fic, they belong entirely to Squaresoft/enix and the events are not truthful, unfortunately.
Warning: This fic contains supernatural events, strong language, drug use and yaoi. That's M/M or boy love to anyone who doesn't already know. And maybe some Rinoa bashing too.
A/N: So, I've given this story a re-write. It's not changing majorly, just some structure to make things a bit less confusing. Hope it's ok!
Prologue
Walking the streets of Deling City, Seifer was aimlessly bored. He'd jumped ship at Lunatic Pandora and been sucked into Time Compression. He figured it wasn't just him, but couldn't be too sure.
He'd wandered around for what he estimated to be 4 days, before waking up in a bed in front of his posse. Raijin and Fujin had informed him that he had been unconscious for 12 days. That they had woken up around the same time after falling from Time Compression.
They had woken in the outskirts of Esthar, close to the Sorceress' Memorial, and carried Seifer's lifeless form to the nearest, and cheapest, hotel, where they had remained by his side awaiting for him to wake from his prolonged slumber.
Of course, being his posse that had cared for him whilst he had been out of it, he had thanked them, then left to attempt at a new life.
So he wandered about Esthar for a few days. Then hauled his ass over to the Trabian continent. He prayed to Hyne that he didn't accidentally come across the ruined Garden on his travels. Luckily he hadn't. A few weeks' worth of walking around, he came to a port on the West side of the continent.
He became a stowaway on a cargo ship heading for the Galbadian continent, Dollet to be precise. Three very long weeks he spent hidden away, trying to find scraps of food so he would survive long enough to reach Galbadia.
Against the odds, he barely survived. With food deprivation, he was the last one off the cargo ship, slithering away and making his way to a back alley pub in Dollet. His first proper meal in over three weeks. He thought he may well have eaten half of his own body weight.
Not wanting to stay in the same place for too long, he made his way to Deling City.
This is where he was now. No contact from anyone in nearly a month, bored out of his mind. He wanted to find some work perhaps. Maybe even find a run-down, cockroach-infested hotel and get his head down for a barely decent night's sleep.
He could only wish for such luxuries. Upon reaching Deling City, he had encountered a small group of vicious locals. And with the "Great Seifer Almasy, Sorceress' Lapdog" just strolling into town, they could not miss their chance to extract their revenge upon him. For him and his Sorceress had rid this powerful city of their leader, their soldiers, their government, and their families.
This man had murdered hundreds. Under the command of Her. Their blood boiled at the sight of him. Not that they were to know he was being mind-fucked by Her. It was all taken at face-value. He was the one that killed. It was his figure that blood tarnished. His blade that had done the damage.
The group had followed him for a couple of days, watching his movements, where he would go. As luck would have it, one evening he strolled down a very dark alley. It was of course, quite late at night, for Her lapdog feared being seen by the general public, lest he get brutally murdered himself.
Only three of the group's members had followed him that evening. Suffice to say, Seifer Almasy was taken by surprise and beaten black and blue. The only reason they let him live was so if the chance ever arose, they could do it all over again.
So now, Seifer was wandering the city's main streets. Around 2300 hours, his mind was slowly fading away. He hadn't slept in over 36 hours. He had to keep himself alert. Nothing happened anymore. He was beginning to wish for that same group to kick the shit out of him again. At least then he'd get some entertainment.
But no. Seifer was punished by the quiet streets of the usually busy city. No bars were open, except for the ratty back-street ones. Perhaps he should have gone to one. And maybe get glassed, or called the Sorceress' Whore. Time and time again, he had endured the names he was now known as. He had endured the rage of the locals who remembered him for what he was.
A pathetic, filthy, lapdog for a bitch of a Sorceress. Maybe they were right, maybe he was her whore. No. He wasn't her whore. He didn't do it of his own accord. He was her puppet. But no one ever saw him as the victim he truly was now, did they? Once again, it all comes down to face-value.
No one knew that this woman who had forcefully entered his mind, was in fact, the only motherly figure he had ever known, being mind-fucked herself by a Sorceress beyond anyone's reach. From beyond the realms of this time. Fuck, Ultimecia hadn't technically been born yet. Or had she?
Seifer spent many a sleepless night thinking about Her. Who she was, and what made her choose him? He came to a very fucked up conclusion that this time-traveling bitch was in fact Rinoa. It would make sense. She and Seifer had spent that summer together, only for Seifer to piss on her cornflakes and break up with her. Well, it wasn't like they had been together in the first place.
She thought they were, but she was quite a dumb-cluck. She thought of him as her knight... It all makes sense. She had a grudge against Seifer for supposedly breaking her heart. She turned into Ultimecia, harnessed Her powers, lived for thousands of years. Then came back in time to take Seifer under Her wing as Her knight, and fuck him up the arse royally.
Clever really. How She could plan it all out like that. Maybe she wasn't quite the thick bint he originally thought she was. Well, okay she was. If only he had realised at the time. Then again, what good would it have done anyway? She would have already be mind-fucking him day in and day out.
Seifer looked around, not realising he had been thinking too much again. His body had moved all on its own, without his brain interfering, and landed him outside that ratty bar he was thinking of earlier. It was quiet, dimly lit. He didn't like the atmosphere, or lack thereof, oozing from the gaps beneath the closed doors.
Contemplating going in and enquiring as to whether any rooms were available, he noticed a shadow moving inconspicuously out of the corner of his eye. Most probably his mind playing tricks on him again. Hyne, he needed to sleep.
He turned himself away from the bar to where the shadow may, or may not, have been. Nothing. Stupid fucked up paranoia.
It was at this moment, the shadow lurking now behind Seifer's barely functional form, had come out into the dim lights cast from the bar. Taking a deep, yet silent, breath, it took a slight step back before charging into Seifer's back, causing the tall blond to fall face first to the ground beneath him.
Now finding himself pinned to the ground, he cursed inwardly. So it wasn't his mind hallucinating then. Someone had been there, and now this someone was yanking his head to one side by his hair.
He grunted at the pain, but did not struggle. Even if he had, his attempt would be have been futile. He didn't have the strength to push this someone off his back, let alone to fight with them. So he decided to just lie there and take whatever they wanted to dish out to him.
However, instead of being beaten black and blue, he could feel something sharp at his neck, piercing it. His mind was fading faster now. His body becoming limp. Like his life was being drained from him.
He could hear slurping sounds and muffled moans. Confused, he remained still whilst he felt his conscious slowly slipping away.
Seifer awoke alone after the sun had set. He was slumped in the alley next to that ratty bar in Dollet. His placed his fingers at where the sharp pain had been before he passed out. There were two small scabs. He vaguely wondered how long he had been outside this bar. How long he had been out of it.
He got himself up and walked inside the bar. The barman looked up to see who had walked through the doors. He looked Seifer up and down, before setting about cleaning the bar.
Walking up to the bar, Seifer ordered a beer. The barman didn't give him a second look as he pulled the pint and placed it in front of the blond man. "5 Gil." Looking for his stash, hidden deep within his trench coat, Seifer pulled out a 10 Gil note and gave it to the barman. "Keep the change."
Pint in hand, he walked over to a corner of the bar, and took a seat at a termite-ridden table. He slipped his trench coat off his shoulders and took his first swallow, allowing the cool liquid to slide down his throat. Almost wretching, he put it back down.
Several minutes passed where he just stared at the murky glass almost full with pale orange beer. He couldn't understand why it made him feel ill. Maybe it was because he hadn't eaten anything in... how many days was it now? Not including the unknown amount of time he was unconscious for obviously.
Tentatively, he allowed himself to try just one more sip. Maybe his taste buds had gone to shit. Carefully drawing the glass to rest on his bottom lip, he took the tiniest sip of the rapidly warming liquid. Once more, he had to cover the fact that this shit was disgusting.
Aggrevated by the fact that his stomach would not allow him even a gulp of beer without him gagging, he abruptly stood from his chair and left the bar.
Now what was he going to do? And what was that amazing smell? He almost looked like a bloodhound, sniffing the air in front of him, letting his feet drag him towards the origin of the scent. It smelt like cinnamon. Cinnamon mixed with worn leather.
In his already screwed up mind, it somehow reminded him of Squall. The man that had plagued his dreams since he fell out of Time Compression. Well, whenever he allowed himself to finally give in to the dark pit of slumber. His dreams of the Ice Princess were not what one would call normal dreams.
Hell, if they were normal then so was Chicken Wuss's hot-dog obsession. He'd never thought about Squall as anything other than his rival, and his equal. But in his dreams, they were much more than that. He wasn't quite sure what to make of them.
One of the first dreams he remembered quite vividly, he had somehow "bumped" into Leonhart, in the literal expression. After some one-word bitchy retorts, Seifer had slammed himself into the brunette, planting his lips on the rosy pink ones of his rival.
That was only the start of them. With each dream of the stoic man, came more exotic scenes, more forceful, more...erotic. The most recent had been Seifer crushing their lips together, ripping his clothes apart and ordering him to get on his knees and "make that mouth do something useful."
He chuckled under his breath. Strange as it was to have these crazy, erotic, disturbing, sensual dreams, he couldn't quite help feeling that he would definitely not mind if they somehow came true.
When Squall wasn't occupying most of his unconscious state, She was invading his dreams like some lovesick bitch begging Her knight for a second chance to prove Her worth.
Those dreams of Her, he had almost understood them, but when the answer was so close to forming, it vanished from his brain again. There had been no point in trying to figure out exactly why She was begging him. Technically, he had let Her down. Thus proving that his dreams were just that.
His nose still pushing forward, his brain still abandoning control over his feet, his eyes almost popped out of their sockets at the sight before him. He allowed himself to hide in the shadows of the tall, murky buildings as not to be seen.
"Hyne above! Will you just leave me the fuck alone!?"
"B-but...baby? We can make it work. We will make it work. I promise!"
"How dare you say those words to me! It will not work. Why can't you get that through your thick air-brained head of yours?"
Crying. Tears. Self-pity.
"P-p-please... Squall... I love you."
Empty smile.
"You don't love me! You only love my status."
"No. NO! That's not true!"
More tears.
"It is Rinoa. You're nothing more than a selfish princess who can't get her own way, even with all of Daddy's money."
Slap.
Gasp.
"I'm so sorry!"
Hysterics.
"Squall, I didn't mean to-"
"Don't talk to me."
Dripping blood.
Cinnamon?
He watched as Squall stormed off, leaving a frantic Rinoa in his wake. He saw her fall to her knees, sobbing. Begging beneath a hitched breath. She was too caught up in her own misery that she failed to notice Seifer sneak out from the shadows and once again follow his nose.
His stealth allowed him to catch up with the Ice Princess much quicker than he had expected, all the while still keeping a relatively fair distance between the two. He wasn't about to confront him, he wanted to follow the smell he radiated. It was pure heaven.
He had silently followed Squall for over an hour, whilst the brunette aimlessly walked around Deling City. He watched as Squall eventually walked into a hotel, leaving behind only a very faint scent for Seifer to inhale.
Seifer, now displeased his only means of entertainment had evidently called it a night, had decided to leave this city. Leave behind that soul-consuming smell, and the man he had dreamt about countless times. It was time.
Having already made a decision on his next location, Seifer headed towards the outskirts of Deling City. It was on his way out of the city that he came across something quite peculiar.
A young man, with short blonde hair not unlike his own, with a tall and broad frame, approached him. Seifer didn't usually make a point about being fussy of the gender of his attractions, but this young man was rather good-looking. If he was looking for some, Seifer would happily give in to his demands.
"Hi there." The voice was not high, but not the deep baritone of his own. Somewhere in the middle perhaps.
"Umm, hi." Seifer felt the stanger's eyes burning into him. He felt...anticipation, excitement. Hunger?
He turned to face his would-be new friend, eyes wide as he saw the eyes staring back at him. Bright blue, with rather prominent red rings around the pupils. Never before had a pair of eyes been so captivating.
The young man moved closer towards Seifer, his breath now in close proximity to his face. His choppy hair gently brushed his upper cheek as he leaned forward to whisper in his ear.
"I know what you are, and I want to help you in overcoming the first few stages of the transformation."
Seifer took a step back and looked at him like he'd fallen out of his tree.
"What the hell are you talking about?"
Laughter. The prick was laughing at him.
Shiny. A knife. A knife now pressed into the wrist of this beautiful man.
Vanilla. Sweet, and subtle. The scent wafted through the air and up Seifer's nose. Where his brain deciphered that this smell was almost as good as Leonhart's and he wanted to taste it.
More laughter.
"Looks like I'm right. Well, actually, I'm Devon. Nice to meet you...?" He trailed off, obviously expecting a reply in the form of a name.
"Theifer." He shook his head. Hang on a fucking minute here.
Laughter.
"Don't worry, you'll get used to talking when they're out."
"When what are out?"
Devon then beared a wide smile, showing off some rather large canines. He slid his tongue over one of them.
"These babies."
Seifer felt his own tongue defying his brain, in search of something that there was no way on Hyne's Gaia could be...-
"OW!" He felt the sting on his tongue, and the wetness now trailing down his chin. He wiped at it with his hand, seeing blood.
Devon regarded him with a playful glint in his wonderously shiny blue eyes.
"You're hungry." It wasn't a question. It was a statement. And at that moment, Seifer's stomach decided to rumble. Obviously it felt the truth in that sentence.
"How come I can thmell you but not mythelf?" He cursed inwardly at the stupid lisp caused by these monstrosities now protruding from his mouth.
"You're immune to your own scent. If you weren't, could you imagine how mad you'd go? You'd be wanting to eat yourself constantly! Here."
The blood that was dripping from his arm had slowly started to dry. He noticed Devon had gently picked at it before holding it out to him.
"Drink up. You're going to need it."
One eyebrow raised, Seifer studied the offered wrist intently, like he was daring it to move. He could see the faint trickles of blood re-emerging from the cut.
Slowly, he bought the wrist up towards his face, unconsciously licking his lips at the smell. Then it happened. His teeth were effortlessly gliding into Devon's wrist, the blood oozing from the cut and flooding his mouth with the taste that was much better than he had thought it might have been.
It felt wonderful, like all of the energy he had lost in the past 2 months had come rushing back. His life form re-affirmed. He felt dazed by it, lost in the void between being awake and sleeping. Bliss.
He sucked lightly, draining the last amount he craved from the small cut. He looked back up to face Devon's enchanting eyes.
"Don't worry about the hard-on by the way, it happens to all of us the first time. Sometimes the second too. And the third..." He trailed off as Seifer looked down and saw the tent in his pants.
Devon gave him a warm smile.
"Obvious rules apply. We may well be creatures of the night, but we can stay awake in the daytime, should we get used to it and choose." Seifer was just staring at him, trying to take in this new information. No doubt he'd need it sometime.
"But don't get in direct sunlight, or you'll shrivel up and poof! Gone. Stakes are just a myth. Silver stakes however, don't get me started. Many a lover I've lost to that piece of equipment."
He gazed off slightly, remembering times when he was happy with any one of his former lovers, before they were taken from him.
"Oh, you can control the eye and teeth thing too. Think of them as very cool tricks. But the more you crave blood, the harder it will become for you to control them from appearing."
Seifer nodded.
"One more thing though, should you wish to use it on a random, meaningless lunch, or just for the sheer fun of it, there is an ability to cloud people's minds. It takes some practise though. You have to concentrate."
Seifer was still nodding, it was like he was still in class.
"Although, I have found, the more you crave to feed, the easier it is to cloud their judgement. My guess is that the skill has been perfected by many before us. That's really about it. If you only take enough from them to quench the urge to feed, they won't be affected. If you go overboard and drain everything from them, then they'll turn. So be careful."
Got it. He watched as Devon turn away to leave.
"Wait, I have a question." His head turned to regard him.
"What's with all the smells anyway?"
Chuckling.
"It's the smell of a particular person's blood. If the blood has left or is leaving the body, you will be able to smell it. Yours is wonderful by the way." He smiled again before walking away.
Well, he did want to start a new life. Ironic. He looked down again. Hyne-dammit!
