For Wallwalker for the FF Kiss Battle 2016 with the prompt: Marking an enemy/target with a kiss.
There was a new Magitek knight.
A success, unlike the staggering heaps of failures that came before. Cid slaved in his labs to ensure the next specimen they jabbed a needle with didn't die or foam at the mouth from delirium. All the while, Kefka stood in the sweep distance, arms crossed tight against his chest and lips pursed in disgust.
Because he did not wish for there to be another one like him. Was he not enough? One Magitek knight could level a hundred soldiers with a blink of an eye. Gestahl could manufacture the armors and various devices to his liking, but when it came down to who was worthy of magic flowing through their veins, it was him. Only him. Always him.
And not that vile bitch.
She could barely walk, let alone talk. Some child they found on the streets, for all he cared. Or perhaps she was stolen from a noble. All whispers of her origins were but rumors, after all. In the end, it didn't matter; she was here now. An innocent soul with locks of pale blonde hair and an even paler face marked with blue eyes. Just like ice.
How fitting.
He couldn't come near the brat. Gestahl isolated her on the far end of the fortress to continue testing. For all they knew, she would deteriorate in a matter of days and thus be another failure. Kefka crossed his finger for such an outcome, but the voices passing by him in the metal hallways carried optimism and awe over another Magitek knight gracing their presence.
Her. A child. A fucking brat. More concerned with chewing on a sofa instead of wielding magic like an artist held a brush.
It might have been too early to cross paths. Prying for more information on the child would surely warrant Kefka unwanted attention. It wasn't, however, outside of his privilege to travel into Cid's lab and conduct his own business.
Thus he stood in the empty lab, machines humming and tubes pumping with chemicals, and stared down the icy Esper responsible for it all.
Shiva lied in her glass confines, exhausted from endless rounds of testing. She never lifted her head when Kefka cracked open her cell. Didn't twitch, didn't growl. Simply existed because life presented no other option. Her blue skin glistened at one point, as did her sapphire-like eyes. She was but a dull gem, weathered by the worst of storms in a matter of days.
"Get up," Kefka snarled. She did nothing, thus he drove a foot into her ribs. "Get up!"
She whined and curled into herself over the attack. Finally, those icy eyes glared up at him. Kefka smirked; that expression said it all. The will to fight died long ago, leaving behind the desire for death to grant her freedom, for she could never obtain it by her own means. Not anymore.
Though when Shiva persisted with her disobedience, Kefka knelt down and latched onto her throat. In one swift motion, he picked up the limp body and crushed her back into the glass wall of her cell. One step left inches between them. His eyes met hers, finding a quiver in her eyes.
"This," he said, his tongue drenched in ire, "is your fault. Of all the Espers, of all the possibilities... you had to be the one that reaped success. Because of you—" He clenched her throat tighter and a gasp rattled in Shiva's lungs. "—I am no longer alone as an elite entity. This is your doing, bitch. You did this to me! You wish to destroy me!" A delirious laugh escaped him. "But no... No, you will never be able to do so much as touch me. I am a god and you are but a mere mortal. I can squeeze the very life out of you and no one will care to notice."
With what breath remained in Shiva, she squeaked out a whisper. When those words seeped into Kefka's ears, they then vibrated until a violent pulse quaked through him.
His eyes widened. His jaw clenched. When the tension released, he screamed out with absolute fury before hurling her to the side. Her head crashed into the glass and Shiva slumped to the floor. Coughs sputtered out of her as she pawed at her throat, all while recoiling into a corner.
Not dead. Not yet. No, that would have been merciful.
Instead, Kefka knelt down before her again and forced Shiva to face him. Blood trickled down the side of her face. Hate seared through those icy eyes. It had him grinning.
"One day," he finally responded to her, "that child you bestowed your filthy blood to will grow up and no longer be a child. I don't care what she amounts to. I don't care if she's loved or hated by the world. When she is ripe to pick, I will tear her by the stem and burn her from petals to roots. Because she will never amount to anything and I will make sure to remind her of that. Just you wait and see."
He leaned in closer, lips brushing over Shiva's cheek until he settled them into her open wound. The blood didn't revolt him. Her whimpers and squirms didn't alter his mind. Kefka chuckled into her skin.
"I promise," he purred. "Just for you. She is good as dead."
Shiva never answered. Not when he pulled away and not when he locked her back up before exiting the lab. Those he passed by while in the Imperial fortress didn't inquire for his whereabouts in that time or why blood smeared his lips. Kefka walked tall in those dark hallways lit only by faint torches. Everyone scurried away from the Magitek knight, knowing well of what he was capable of if they didn't clear the way.
What they didn't know was what words echoed in his head, forever haunting him past restful night after restful night: one day, that child will amount to more than you will ever aspire to be and then she will kill you.