The night was dark, a fresh breeze bringing about an eerie gleam to the sharp curves of the wooded hill. I was lightly dressed for such a winter night, to be sure - I was still in my sleepwear. When I heard the sirens wailing outside my door, I leapt in my calf-high boots and ran through a backdoor.
I lived in Winhill. The center, yet smallest place in Dingo County. A sleepy commuter village, a neighborhood the way the town of Sedona, further north likes them, with their neatly lined houses, their concrete roads, and their tons of children screaming about, and their inhabitants. A quiet little neighboorhood, next to a cosy and award-winning little city. I had a nice life, even though I admit some people have branded me a despicable person. But I never did anything wrong. At least, not to my eyes. I didn't speak to people a lot. Before I had to suddenly leave, I was in vacation, and just about to get back to work. The only person I talked to was that guy at the lavatory. He looked with intent at me, and said he could stare into my soul. Creepy guy. It's why I don't speak to people.
Who sold me out? How did they know? I never used my real name when doing shady business. I am Nina Branden, and to the eyes of the world, I am your typical, slightly tomboy, but otherwise normal looking office working woman. But a while ago...I was worse. I don't think I wish to speak about these times. I used to retrieve information. I had a master. But one day, the police cracked down on us. I barely escaped with my freedom, and went through their nets, but my employeer was pinched. The day before he was to be convicted, he was reported dead. It's when I decided to give up on this old life, and start afresh. I thought it worked. Until that day the feds came.
And so I was gone, jumping out of bed. Old habits die hard. But to be honest, I always expected people to come for me, one day. You'd be amazed how resistant and comfy my boots were. Those bits of leather brought me to the other side of the state. I walked, in the cold embrace of the deadly night, avoiding the looks, walking on forgotten dirt-ways long untrodden, from the times of the Galbadian Dream over three hundred years ago. The forests of Timber are dense and stately. You could shoot a movie like they do in Trabia, one of those thrillers where a bewildered girl runs half naked, determined, with scars all over the face, followed by angry ninjas or something like that. I wish it were a movie.
Night was falling again when I reached the foot of Mount Eden. I couldn't believe I did all this way - and most of all, couldn't even think I was still free. I don't know how I could trust my hopes then. I was planning to retreat for a while in an old hut somewhere in the mountains. A friend of mine lived there, when I still worked for this guy. She died in a car accident, and I didn't think anyone touched the little barn since then. I painstakingly climbed the mile or so, on dirty pathways, with shadows creeping all around me, and only the noises of night animals. I think I even saw a fox peering at me. But I was so lost, I don't think I'm even sure anymore. Back then, I was deeply thinking, breathing hardly, totally exhausted. I arrived at the little hut, and tossed myself on the old, moistly bed, not even bothering to kick off my boots. I fell asleep rather promptly.
My goal was Deling City, the capital city of Galbadia. From there I could take a train to anywhere in the world. Far from existence in a place that denied me and my feelings. Perhaps to Balamb, or to Centra, or even to Trabia's northern reaches. Trabia was a place that always fascinated me, but passing through Eshtar customs is expensive and horrible, and anyways I didn't have the money. I didn't know where to go. I truly had little idea. I settled for one purpose down in Galbadia. Revealing who could have murdered my sole friend back then, a woman of desire and ambition. Some have said I wished my days away. I just sought justice, and found fate in dark circles.
I woke up in the middle of the night. When you are anxious you cannot sleep good, it's well known. I hadn't eaten anything since I fled home. My face was messy and dirt covered my soft skin. I was a fugitive, and I found it unfair. If I hadn't mistakenly driven in this street, I would have never ran into their business, and I wouldn't have been the associate of the most wanted criminal in the whole state. But this was no time for regrets. This still isn't.
I loved a man. A boxing champion of local renown, he was. We had such nice times together. I wished to live forever with this guy. We would have a cozy cottage on the Hills and two cars like the Eshtari have, and at night we would be on pot and ride them in crazy races on the twisting freeways. Maybe up to the desert. What a life we'd have had. Every night he would come and caress me..I was just staring there, his hands blocking my wrists, and we would love in the pale moonlight.
I rose from my daydream. I was back in this hut. The feds definitely wouldn't come now. I thought I was safe and clear. I lit a torch which I hung on the wall, and stared at those past memories. I had been there before she died, for holidays mostly. After she died, I never came back. It was so dark and dusty in there, and it smelled weird too. It was almost surreal that I was in this house. It felt as if nothing had ever been disturbed and time had been simply passing by. I sighed. I had promised myself I would disturb my friend's peace, when my employeer allowed me to achieve revenge. So it was pretty normal I felt guilt when I broke in the little house, making a life as an outlaw. My sight roved about. Apart from this bed on one corner, just by the wooden door, there was a table. Cards were laid, on the table, next to a dusty cigarette pack. Broken bottles and fallen rooftiles littered the area. Wind whistled through the crackled walls of the crumbling old shack.
Across from the table there was a chest. A single chest. I walked softly towards it, the soles of my boots clacking against the wooden floor. I opened it. It was unlocked, and yet, it had not been violated in all that time. Inside, therewas the most prized possession of my fallen friend. I didn't know what was there before and so I took a peer, curious yet afraid, as if I were watched. I felt as if my friend was here. What would she have thought? There was a sword. I expected jewels. Or a deed. Maybe a gun. I didn't fathom the slightly curved blade. My trembling fingers held it. I had learned to wield the sword.
I suddenly turned in the silence of the room. I froze on sight, terrified. I could swear I had heard footsteps. It could have been a stray dog, a deer, or the sound of the wind twirling through the trees into the small clearing. I bit my lip. It was so lonely there. I wasn't someone used to be afraid. Usually such little noises had few effect on me, and I was really more the adventurous kind. But then I was so afraid. Blood was throbbing in my head and my heart was wildly rushing, as if I couldn't wake from a terrible nightmare. For some reason - craziness, or just the wish to get it over, I swallowed my fear and dared step outside in the cold.
It was just as dark. The shades of the trees were dominating my sight and oppressing my tiny frame. I held the sword, in a readying stance, holding it with both hands right before my head, the hilt by the hips; the outer of the curved blade ready to slice in my foe. Suddenly right behind me, the lights of a car went to starkly light the place. I screamed in horror, pointing my blade at it. There was none inside. I backed off, and heard a snicker in my shoulder.
The laughing man looked eerie. I backed off, my boots stepping in a muddy corner of the area. I breathed, albeit hardly. His face was hidden by a hat. He stayed still, stoic, a grin on his face, and a bat in his right hand.
I didn't wait any longer to strike. I leapt, swift as a bird and cold like ice, thrusting the blade into his upper shoulder. Sternly he dispelled my strike, sent me fly three meters back. I landed on my feet and quickly took my balance, as he swung the mace towards me. I closed my arms, eked slightly. I brought the sword to parry his strike. He staggered, and I landed a cut on his left arm.
He didn't scream, strangely enough. But the second I hit, he sent a crushing blow in my rips. I fell in the mud, on my knees. I felt another strike on my back, and a third on the thighs. But I wouldn't lose. I couldn't allow myself to be defeated, to place myself at the mercy of this stalker. Who was it? The feds? Armed with mere maces? It was so surreal but honestly, I didn't care.
In my veins a strange, eerie warmth grew. I was broken, but I could rise up, and jumped with the sword. It seemed to me I was sparkling. I aimed at his chest, my blade pointed downwards, the curve into his torso. The blade cut through his breast, hit his lungs. He fell without a noise. I drew the sword out in a sound of cut flesh.
I was bruised, and panted. I gasped for air but it felt I couldn't breath. As if I was drowning. My lip was strongly bleeding. I put my fingers to the cut and watched the red fluid. My back was hurting so deeply, and I could hardly stand. And that's when someone came from behind and grabbed my hair.
He held me firmly, and in a second I was gagged with some loin cloth. My muffled cries went unheard; for he was behind me, he sent a knee into my backside. I fell on my knees again, now genuinely wailing. I was thinking the cops caught me, or worse, some horny rapist was on the loose right where I stood. Or maybe it was just the man's accomplice. I was facing the lights of the car, my eyes widely opened. I shivered and cried, but couldn't struggle back. My hands were grasping his arm - he was so strong he mastered me with one limb. I saw his right hand come before me, armed with a knife.
He did not say anything, but I stopped all struggle. Gently he laid my unwilling body, face down in the mud. I was so terrified; though now I see there was no need. He placed a knee on my cramping back, then lashed my arms backwards. He was binding me. I felt the ropes take me over, cutting through my wrists; he brought a belt which held me together. My own knees underwent the same process; then when I was restrained, he turned me. And that's when I saw Him.
In the dark night, the car was giving him a creepy glow; his hair seemed long, silver, flowing in the wind. He placed the knife silently. He stared at me, and I stared back. He smiled. He wore leather gloves, icy like the cruelty of mankind itself. He brought the hand to my crotch, as I thought my time had come. I was to be raped and killed mercilessly, as the fugitive I had become, and the cops would let my dead body as feeder for the coyotes. I closed my eyes, but... he did not abuse me. He tapped gently down here, on my frozen body, then stood looming. I felt as if I was being examined. He lifted a boot, and I barely looked. He didn't kick me, however. He just placed it over my chest and pressed slightly down, smirking. It was useless - I had been pretty dominated and I was well aware of my position and how helpless I turned out to be. He rubbed it, as I did my best to keep quiet, and then bended down to carried me. I harshly landed over his sword had fallen to my side. I did not oppose any resistance; he was indeed gleaming with an alluring flame in his eyes. I will remember this face forever.
He gently lifted me in the trunk of the car, then laid above me. His strong fingers took my chin, turned my glare towards him. He was still smiling. The silence was utmost. It seemed to be the owls themselves had stopped singing. For a minute, the world stopped living. He watched me, the moon just above him. It was full moon, indeed, and the sky was starless. But not loveless. He nodded, cleaning my bleeding face. I stood bound, helpless, bemused. Then he went to kiss my forehead. I squirmed, when I saw the shadow of a leather band in his hand. But I could only watch as he placed the collar around my neck, and locked it, so calm and silent. Then after another eternity, he lifted himself off me, stroking my crotch. He chained the collar to two rings on each side of the trunk, and the belt to the chain. This was the only thing I would hear from him, or anyone for that matter, for a long, long while.
"You are finally mine."
When he closed the trunk, I felt the car beginning to move. I was to be brought somewhere...anywhere. I was silently sobbing, and for the only time I deeply wished I had been arrested. I couldn't see anything; I couldn't hear anything. I was feeling just a helpless female body, and I felt so worthless; and this caused more pain in my heart. What had I done to deserve this? My thoughts were blurred at best. I was just so drowsy. I grunted, before I fell asleep again. I carried on my unwilling journey in a beheld and awesome darkness, somehow giving in my promised fate. In a day's time, an era had ended... But I realized I was doomed even before.
But how could I have reached such an end...