Author's Note: Thanks everyone for taking a peak at this story! I plan for this to be a huge multi-chapter story with lots of the goodies, mostly drama. I will try to keep to a strict system of posting up a new chapter once a week. Otherwise, please enjoy the Prologue and don't be afraid to leave a review with your thoughts!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or plot line of Final Fantasy VIII, I merely write smut with their characters.

Warnings: Angst and being trapped. Mentions of torture and character death.

-HeavenKnows


Prologue - Blood

Zell Dincht - 20

How stupid they all were. Stupid and wishful. Someone should have guessed, someone should have known and then no one would have died. How in Hyne could we have thought something, or someone, as powerful as Ultimecia would've died with her body? Looking back, it would have just been better to capture her. No one had taken a moment to think that maybe her body was holding her back, but it's all gone now. Their chance had come, and gone just as quickly.

It was almost silent. No squeaking from the mice, no talk from other prisoners, because there were none. Only the steady sound of dripping water from the ceiling comforted him.

"Seven hundred and thirty-nine." He said speaking to no one, counting the drops each time they hit the ground. "Seven hundred and fourty." He said again, he failed at everything else but Hyne damnit, he would not fail at counting drops of water from the ceiling.

There was no light to illuminate his cell, no windows, it was just dark, damp and smelly. Zell hung by his wrists, suspended from the ground due to how terribly short he was. His shoulders and arms had long since stopped screaming, or maybe he just didn't notice it anymore. He wasn't sure just how long he had been kept here, maybe a few days, weeks, months? He didn't know, there was no way to keep track of time here, he had long assumed he was underground. Food came once a day, except for when they 'accidently' dropped it onto the ground.

His torturers had long since stopped coming down however. They used to beat him, hurt him with knives and clubs. However when he didn't scream, cry or wince they quickly lost interest in their tormenting and left him be.

If only his own mind would leave him be, his thoughts would forever stray towards his defeat, his failure. If only his mind would let him be.


"Let me go you bastards! I'll fucking kill you when I get out of these cuffs!" Zell's head tipped up, hearing a commotion. A scuffle by the sounds of things. He could see light coming his way, this was the only cell after all and it looks like he was going to get a friend. "I'll rip your throats out with my bare hands!"

The cell door was ripped open as Zell's head dipped back down, staring at the ground.

"Yeah, we get it, you're big and bad," said one of the guards, teasing their captive. Zell could still here the scuffle, but it was subdued, as if the fighter was enamoured with something else.

"Zell... what have they done to you?" Well, apparently Zell was already friends with this mysterious man, whom he had yet to see. He could hear the sickening snap of the metal closing over wrists. Finally he looked up, his blue eyes meeting with an unforgettable cyan colored gaze. Seifer was here, oh no... they were gonna kill him too, just lik- his mind stopped in its tracks. "Zell! Why won't you speak?"

Zell just giggled, his head dipping back down again, he still didn't speak, until he heard the drop of water.

"One thousand, three hundred and twenty-eight."

"What? Zell, what are you talking about?" Zell didn't answer, he didn't feel like answering, what was the point. "Hyne damn it Chicken! Fucking answer me you worthless cunt!" Zell's head popped up, to meet once more with a now relieved cyan colored gaze. "Thank Hyne you're still in there. Now, let me think, I'll get us out of here, we'll make it out. These bastards can't handle me. They'll feel the wrath of the Great Seifer Almasy!"

Once in a long time Zell cracked a smile, and went back to counting the drips of water coming from the ceiling.

"One thousand, three hundred and twenty-nine."