Greetings all!
Before anything, let it be known that I do not own anything Final Fantasy VIII related whatsoever, and that this is purely for entertainment purposes and my own personal love of writing. No money being made here XD.
This is the first fic that I've posted in a long while, and it's basically something to get my writing juices going. I've had this little plot bunny in my head for while now and I'm starting off with a oneshot just to get it out there and see what people have to say about it. This is kind of like a prelude to what I plan on making a full length story very soon, so please enjoy and anticipate more.
Warnings: Mild Blood/Gore, General Weirdness at some points, Screwy POV mechanics at some points (it's intentional).
With all that out of the way, please enjoy and see the bottom for more notes!
The first thing Rinoa perceives is the darkness.
An unrelenting purple haze that seems to cover anything within her direct line of sight, there seems to be no way of telling where exactly she is by just using her eyes. It's a thick smog that hovers just above the ground and extends up as far as her eyes can see, but something in the way it moves seems alive. It's haunting.
The next thing she perceives is the chill.
It doesn't exactly feel cold, but she certainly has goose bumps across the majority of her skin. And there's a subtle shiver to her form that she's not sure what to attribute to. Perhaps fear, it wouldn't be the first time.
The next thing she perceives is the sound.
A steady thrum of something, which ends up sounding somewhere between a low hum and a steady groan. It invokes feelings within her chest that she's not sure how to process, but it somehow seems appropriate with the darkness and it certainly adds to her chills.
The next thing she perceives is the taste.
Raspberries. A pasty sensation at the back of her tongue that is somehow pleasant and unpleasant at the very same time. She has no idea why it's there or how it got there, but she can tell that it's significant in some way.
The final thing she perceives is the smell.
Oh Hyne, the smell.
The sharp stench of blood is in the air around her, thick and heady and overwhelming. Rinoa feels her heart race frantically as she looks around the haze in an attempt to locate the source of the smell. But it's no use, she can't see anything past it and the sickening smell is everywhere.
"So you've reached a state of awareness," a voice cuts through her growing panic.
Rinoa is set on edge immediately. "W-what?"
"You're fully aware of your surroundings," the voice is that of a male. It's a low tone, fluid and soft, but with a slight huskiness to it. "I was wondering how long it would take."
The voice scares her for some reason. "Who…are you?" she asks shakily.
"Another time," the voices eases. "For now," it seems to be coming from directly within her head, "why don't you tell me what you see?"
A part of her is loath to reply to the voice, but Rinoa feels so out of touch with her own feelings right now that she answers anyway.
"Nothing," she murmurs, eyes still trying to make something of the haze that surrounds her sight.
"That's not true," the voice patronizes, and it angers her.
"And who are you to tell me what I can and cannot see!?" something about her own voice shocks Rinoa. It sounds strange even to her own ears, and she's not so sure what to make of it.
"No one too important for the moment," the voice answers, seemingly unbothered by her tone. "Either way," it continues, "your observation is false. What you're seeing is not nothing. On the contrary, what you're seeing is everything, you just aren't processing it properly yet."
What is that even supposed to mean?
"It means," the voice answers as if hearing her very thoughts, "that the sight of a sorceress is a great and powerful thing. You're just not quite used to interpreting it yet."
Rinoa opens her mouth to snap back at that, but it shuts seemingly of its own accord as she realizes that it's right. She has no idea how she knows that it's right, but the more she thinks on it, the more she believes that there's more to what she's seeing than just a haze. No…it's more than that. She doesn't just realize that there's more.
She remembers.
And just like that, the haze flows away completely. The transition from purple darkness to bleak color is so steep that Rinoa has to close her eyes for a moment to let them adjust.
"A true sorceress has access to the sight of limitless eyes," the voice echoes while her eyelids remain shut, "all belonging to different versions of herself."
That gives her pause.
"What does that mean?" now her voice sounds more like herself. What is going on?
"Though it may not seem like it," the voice explains without pause, "the you from today is fundamentally different from the you of yesterday."
"What?"
"You're certainly the same being," the voice goes on, "and you share the type existence, but today will always be different from yesterday is some way, shape or form. The same applies with tomorrow and today as well, so you, being a part of that chain of events, naturally have a version of yourself for each occurrence. That difference is self and subsequent difference in sight is lost on human beings, but not for you, whose very existence is made up of miracles and impossibilities."
The explanation makes sense, but doesn't at the same time, and Rinoa begins to feel herself panic at the conflicting feelings. A part of her understands, but that part seems so disconnected that she isn't even sure that she can call it herself.
"You can feel it," it's not a question. "That disconnect is what makes your senses so great ," the voice explains, "at any given time, provided you have the skill to do so, you can access your direct perceptions from any point in your existence. Something you may not have paid much attention to years ago can instantly become clear and available by just focusing your gaze onto that sight. It's startling how much clarity you can get from simply looking at something again. If it's easier, think of it as sort of photographic memory that you can call on at will, but can still overwhelm you if don't have the ability to keep up with it."
It does make it easier, but when Rinoa opens her eyes and finds that everything is nothing but a grey blur, she realizes that easier is still not easy.
"Like I said," the voice soothes as her panic level rises again, "you have to be able to keep up with it."
"But what does that mean!?" her voice seems not to be her own again, "This nonsensical jargon you're spewing isn't helping me!"
"It means that your senses are great," the voice once again doesn't seem like it cares very much, "but you must be greater."
Rinoa calms down a bit as the words make sense to some part of her.
"Humans are prisoners to their senses," the voice explains, "take one away, and they can never function the same. Their senses control them in that way. But you're different, because you're not human anymore," Rinoa flinches at that, "you have the power to control your senses in a way that a human could never hope to accomplish. You hear me, sorceress?"
Rinoa snaps her eyes shut as a sudden sting shoots through her skull. I hear you loud and clear, how dare you speak to me like I cannot? Even her inner voice doesn't sound like her.
"Your sight does not control you," the voice says sternly, "you control your sight."
Yes, yes…I am the one in control here!
"Now open your eyes."
Do not presume that you can order me around!
Nevertheless, Rinoa opens her eyes. The difference is immediately noticeable. The sky is a cloudy grey color, and yet there doesn't seem to a single cloud in the sky. She cannot find the sun or moon in her line of sight, which somewhat worries her, but she brings her gaze downwards anyway. And all she finds is destruction.
"Oh Hyne," the sorceress whispers, hands coming up to cover her mouth. "Oh Hyne!"
She has no idea where she is, but it's most definitely an expansive city of some kind, or more like the broken shell of one. There's not a building in sight that doesn't have some sign of damage on it, and the style sort reminds her of Esthar, but everything is so beyond destroyed that she can't even tell. And then her eyes find the bodies.
So that's where the smell is coming from.
"Oh Hyne!" Rinoa shrieks as she takes in the countless corpses that surround her. She can make out details of some of the fallen people, but a good majority are mangled beyond recognition. There's blood everywhere, and she gags as she realizes that most of the bodies are literally in pieces strung about and stacked haphazardly on each other. There's no way of even telling where some of them begin and end, and something in the back part of her mind tells her that there's no way that any of these deaths were quick.
All of the people suffered greatly.
But did they deserve it?
"No one deserves this!" Rinoa shouts aloud, horrified with her own thought. If it even belongs to her.
"No," the voice actually shows signs of anger here, "none of that."
"W-what?" the sorceress questions brokenly as she tries to make sense of the situation.
"Do not try to separate yourself from it," the voice snaps, "those thoughts are yours and yours alone."
"What!?" she briefly notes that her voice is still muffled by her hands, but it sounds like herself. "I-I would never think something like that…"
"That is not true," the voice cuts, "you would. And you have. Multiple times throughout your existence no less, or else you wouldn't be hearing it in your head now."
"N-no!"
"Yes," the voice corrects harshly, "that voice you're hearing may not sound like you, but it is you. Another version of you. And because you are now a sorceress, that version of you and the you of now are one in the same entity."
"No!" Rinoa shrieks, trying to mentally will the voice away.
"Denying it won't help you," the voice regains its calm, "nor will it save all these people from you."
At that, her heart seems to freeze in her chest. No…
"Yes," the voice echoes as she takes another long look at the horror before her, "this is your doing."
"No!" Rinoa moves her hands to cover her ears, as sheer panic and despair sends her to her knees. "No!" she repeats, "no, no, no, no, no, no, no!"
Ah that's right, I did do this.
"NO!" she screams, "that's impossible! It can't be!"
But it is…I did this. How fitting.
"Nonononononononono!"
Yes…it was quite easy and gratifying if I remember.
Out of nowhere, vision of a body being ripped in half by some unknown forces shoots across her mind.
"Stop it!" Rinoa cries.
It was their own fault for challenging me. The sound of screams echoes through her head despite her hands covering her ears. They should have known better.
"This…is not…me!" she shouts.
Pitiful little humans thinking they can play a sorcerer's game. The sickening sounds of rending flesh and snapping bones come next.
"Please stop it!" Rinoa begs, "I can't take it anymore!"
"Are you certain?"
The resounding of the male voice seems to drive away the insane one in her head and the growing sounds of people being slaughtered. Rinoa reluctantly admits to herself that she'd rather listen to the voice than anything else.
"Of what?" she whispers raggedly, heart beating dangerously fast.
"Are you sure that you can't take it?" the voice asks.
Righteous anger flares up in her chest, "What the hell do you mean by that!?" she shouts. "You think that I like this!?"
"That's not an answer," the voice continues on. "Let me ask you again," It says sternly, "are you sure that you cannot take this?"
"How could you even ask me-"
"Are you sure that you're even upset?" the voices cuts in, "You certainly don't seem to be too torn up about it."
Is this voice an idiot or something? Rinoa thinks.
"Other than your shrieking, which is more of an instinct than a genuine reaction by this point," the voice echoes, "how are you so sure that's you're bothered by what you've experienced?"
Rinoa opens her mouth to shout.
"Think, sorceress," the voice bites. "Feel. How do you feel?"
That's an easy answer, she feels sorrow for all the lives that were lost. She feels anger towards whoever could do such a thing. She feels anger at both of the different voices in her head because why are they doing this to her. She feels confusion as to what's even going on in the first place. And the beating of her heart and the shortness of her breath can't be anything else but panic at the situation so-
"Where are your tears if you feel sorrow?" the voice asks harshly.
Rinoa freezes.
What?
"You've screamed and shouted like a maniac," the voice goes on, "and yet I've not seen a single tear from you over these bodies or this situation. In fact, if you could see your face right now," the panic seems to skyrocket, "you'd know that you've been staring blankly at these bodies with a small smile on your face ever since you saw them."
The sorceress just barely manages to bring her shaking hands down from her ears. "N-no," she shakes her head, "that can't be."
It's lying. It has to be lying. Rinoa would never in her life be able to look at carnage like what's around her and simply stare and smile about it. Let alone be the cause of it at that? No way in hell. The voice is lying.
It has to be.
…Right?
"Look at your hands, sorceress."
Something tells her that she won't like what she sees, but Rinoa finds her gaze dropping down anyway.
"Oh Hyne…" she mutters weakly at the sight of her hands.
No, they can't be her hands. Because her fingers shouldn't be so long and bony, nor should they have talons extending from them. Her palms shouldn't be rough and patchy with no defined skin tone. Her engagement ring shouldn't be missing. And her hands certainly shouldn't be drenched in blood.
But they are, and she's shocked to think that she did not notice the drying blood she can feel smeared all over the bottom portion of her faces and on the cuffs of her ears.
"These…" she stares at the trembling appendages.
"You're not experiencing panic," the voice gets quieter, "think harder about that one."
Not panic? But she has to be panicking, Rinoa thinks. There's no other explanation for the intense beating her heart and the shaking her of her entire body and the chills that cut through her form.
But then she finally pays enough attention to notice the pleasant tingling that starts in the pit of her stomach and spreads through the rest of her body.
"This," the sorceress mutters softly, "I'm…excited?"
Aroused, even. The inner voice still doesn't sound like her, but Rinoa still feels that it is her voice in a way.
"W-what am I becoming?" she finds herself asking aloud. There's no answer for a long while, and Rinoa's just about to demand an answer when the voice returns.
"Yourself."
There's a certain type of horror that Rinoa feels when she realizes that she has no protest to that.
"But that can't be…" a part of her that feel far away seems to still want to, though. "I'm nothing like this."
Really? Is that true?
"Maybe not now," the voice responds, "but you will be eventually."
Out of nowhere, she notices a puddle of water before her that she's certain was not there before.
"Someday," the voice goes on as she leans over to look into the water, "this is whole you'll become."
Long strands of stringy silver hair is the first things that stands out to her. Deathly pale that only accentuates the unnaturally dark lines around her yellow-tinged eyes and the black markings that extend from them down her cheeks as well as the dark color of her lips. Animalistic ears that are adorned with many magnificent rings, and a dark grin than reveals too sharp teeth.
But who is this? It can't be her? Rinoa's sure that she doesn't look like this. But then again, she can't really remember what she's supposed to look like. So maybe it is her?
"This is me," she decides with a nod as the water runs red with the blood from the bodies around it.
There's nothing but silence for a while as she ponders on her new and improved existence and why a miniscule part of her seems to want to deny it.
"…I see," the voice sounds somber all of a sudden. Perhaps it's upset that she's realized how superior she is now to anything and everything else? But isn't this realization what it wanted?
"You lost," the voice goes on, but it doesn't seem to be addressing her. After all, she won. She decimated and destroyed those foolish enough to oppose and had fun doing it. What can be a better victory?
"I'd hoped that you would have been able to control it," the voice keeps on, "but you've failed the test."
What nonsense is this?
"Don't take it personally," the voice seems to be fading, but she can hear the notes of finality in it. "But I have do what's best for this world," it states, "which means that I have to do away with you."
It can't think that it can possibly subjugate her, can it? Absurd.
"I'm done with you for now, sorceress."
Good riddance.
"Now wake up."
So this is a play on the whole "Rinoa becomes Ultimecia" thing, but not exactly that. I always found this particular theory interesting simply because I love to think about what the other characters would do if this turned out to be a thing. Like I said, this is just a oneshot for now, but think of it as a sort of preamble. I certainly plan on fleshing out this idea into a whole story, and I've actually already gotten to working on it by the time I'm posting this. I just wanted some constructive feedback on this before going along with a full thing. Even though I plan on posting it regardless, reviews would help me improve my work greatly in my opinion :).
Now about the actual chapter itself. This is dream, first and foremost, and the "voice" is my own OC that I plan in including in the full fic. The "inner voice" that pops up seamlessly in the narrative is Rinoa as well, but obviously a rather psychotic version of her. Towards the end you'll notice that I stopped italicizing the things the inner voice was saying, this was meant to represent Rinoa sort of becoming that type of person within her mind without her even realizing it, and her normal personality became the one that she felt was "far away" or "disconnected".
I hoped you enjoyed and thanks for R&R! Please anticipate a continuation to this soon! Buh-Bye!