Well! Here is my voyage into writing multichapters. This will be a learning experience, as I have a horridly bipolar muse and tend to not complete (or ever bother publishing) stories I start! I am determined to finish this one, however, determined! :p
I got the inspiration to write this when I watched a german movie called Four Minutes last Friday (Do I get ten points for title originality? XD). Within minutes I began replacing characters with FF13 ones. My muse wasn't pleased with just this, so I began writing. This story is going to be roughly based off from the movie but spiced up with more interesting things. I recommend watching the movie just cause it is an awesome movie, but it won't be necessary to understand the story. At least I hope so.
This chapter was fuelled by nutella slathered crumpets, Two Steps From Hell, Infected Mushrooms and the glorious FF13 soundtrack. Also, I lost my Word program and its handy "editor" function, so if you spot any horrible glaring mistakes in spelling, grammar or syntax feel free to inform me! Helpful criticism is mucho welcome too.
Ahh, I should stop blathering now.
The hallway was the same as it always was. Moldy green carpet heavily stained and pulling up at the edges. The wallpaper having long since lost its original pattern to years of neglience now had a dizzying array of water stains and vandalism. The bleak hallway was empty except for one door. She knew what this door looked like before even taking a glance. Made of thin, cheap plywood it was carelessly painted a bland beige and a chipped and battered plaque was nailed completely off centre with the faded numbers: "307". She stood in front of that door. She did not want to go in. Heavy, knowing dread coiled and twisted in her stomach. She knew what she would see if she turned that rusty, brass doorknob. A light flickered in its death throes before going out. She remained there, staring at all of the familiar flaws of the door, resisting.
Then a soft whimper of pain came from the other side. She knew that voice anywhere. It was written into her soul. She flung open the door crying out the same name she cried out before and before. Her heart ached at the sound of it, then plummeted. The same scene. The same damnable scene. None of the other details mattered to her. Only her eyes. Crystal blue. Staring right back.
Empty.
Lightning jerked up, gasping for breath and chilled from the layer of sweat coating her body. She sat for a moment, trembling from the surge of adrenaline, forcing the reoccuring nightmare from her mind. From the corner of her eye she saw something shift, turning around she let out a silent gasp, startled. Relief flooded her when she saw it was her cell mate, but something was amiss. Glancing up Lightning could see the reason, a braid of wires cutting into the pale flesh of the woman's neck.
Lightning remained there on her bed, watching the body slowly sway. There was something amusing, comical even, the way the limbs slumped together. When her eyes fell on the woman's pants, Lightning remembered the cigs that her cellmate always kept on her. Reaching out she slipped her fingers into the right pocket, her brain dully noting that the body was still warm before pulling out the lone cigarette pinched between her pointer and middle finger.
Lighting the stolen cig with a splintery match, Lightning shifted back causing the bunk bed to loudly protest. Feeling her heart calm with the hit of nicotine, she slowly released the lungful of smoke. Her gaze fell back on Nora and she thought back to the two weeks she spent with the woman. Lightning spoke not a word to Nora, but that didn't stop the damnable woman. All she gathered from Nora's ceaseless rambling was her kid with a stupid name like Faith or Chasity. Lightning didn't really give a damn. The woman drove her crazy with her pacing and tapping. She even would jerk her foot in her sleep, shaking the unsteady metal bunk bed they shared.
As for Nora's reason why she was in this hell, Lightning didn't care. She was more tolerable than her old cellmate who sobbed constantly. That lady had problems, but not as much as Nora, apparently. Stubbing out the butt against the bed frame, she flicked it over to the general area of the trash bin. Letting out a sigh, she gave the dangling body of Nora one last glance before leaping off from the top bunk and going to the buzzer connected to the guard room.
Sazh Katzroy, otherwise known as Mr. Sazh, looked up from his paperwork at the familiar distorted buzz. The red blinking light on the panel indicated cell block C-27. Strange. Despite the short temper of one of the inmates, C-27 was usually the more quieter cells. Without setting his pen down, he pressed the button to notify the other guards on shift to inspect what the problem was. He shook his head and returned to his paperwork, it was so close to being the first uneventful night in a while.
Jihl Nabaat sat down in the armchair placed at the front of the desk, readjusting her glasses. The office had a simple charm to it, Jihl will give it that. It was hardly within her tastes but she could see how people would like it. The well kept mismatched furniture was laid out in a tasteful manner and the room was softly illuminated by two large windows draped with sheer curtains. She spared a glance to the empty fish tank before the entrance of Warden Cid Raines drew her attention.
Cid Raines was definitely the type of man that countless women swoon for. Warm black hair cut and styled tastefully with cool grey eyes that Jihl didn't doubt was capable of melting any floozy woman's heart with a mere glance. He also was pleasantly fit, his professionally tailored suit cut to accent that fact. Jihl hardly paid any mind to that fact however, as far as she was concerned Cid Raines was as appealing as a slug.
Smiling amicably, Warden Cid Raines set the plate he was holding onto his desk before taking a seat. Jihl looked at the plate to see three fish laying side by side.
They sat in silence, looking at the fish before Jihl spoke, her voice sharp and clipped, "I'm sorry."
"What ever for?" Cid's smile grew as he watched the blonde readjust her glasses again.
"Your fish. Their deaths." She shifted her foot, "It's quite a way to go."
She kept a close eye on the warden and two guards pushing the black piano, irritated at how it bounced and skipped violently across the cobblestone road.
'Two hours of tuning.' She thought to herself bitterly. Loud catcalls and jeers rang down from the windows. This prison certainly was going to be no different from the others in the past, the slight sneer grew on her face.
'Animals. All of them.' Jihl growled to herself. Finally the warden shouted for the prisoners to shut up. To her surprise they actually listened.
'Maybe this place isn't going to be all that terrible.' The slight relief lasted only a few feet when suddenly a torrent of water splashed down all over the piano. She stopped short, stunned as she watched a fish weakly flop off the side.
"Oh yes, a ten metre fall would kill any perch." Cid nodded his head, clasping his hands together. Jihl narrowed her eyes. Cid was one of those good natured people, insufferably so. Jihl rarely found herself getting along with the type, she couldn't understand how any sane person could be so damn chipper all the time.
"I know your perch." She replied sourly, lifting one eyebrow. She was tired of all the nonsense stirred by the carefree warden. He refused access for her two movers, men capable of carrying the piano. Now the time she alotted for setting her apartment up has to be spent tuning and bringing the instrument back up to playable state.
"Warden-" She began, but was promptly intrupted much to her growing ire.
"Please, call me Raines."
Giving his smug grin a glare, she continued, "I do recall you gave permission for the delivery."
"Ahh, you see Miss. Nabaat, I gave no allowance for ex-convicts to deliver your piano." Cid shook his head, adjusting his clasped hands. "Surely you have known they wouldn't be let inside?"
Looking away from Cid's eyes, Jihl examined the simple pencil holder sitting on his desk. "Certain funds were... lacking."
Cid let out a rather loud 'Ahhh', as if it answered all of his life questions, gesturing with gusto, "Why didn't you tell me, Miss. Nabaat? Such money problems can be solved easily."
Jihl scoffed incredulously, "Is that so? My salary was cut three years ago. I pay for the piano maintenance and new instruments out of my own paycheck," Her icy eyes flashed dangerously, "You, on the otherhand sqander the money on frivilous things!" She shot a glare at the plate of fish to drive her point home.
"Oh nonsense, Miss. Nabaat." Cid waved his hand, as if brushing her words and anger aside. An uneasy silence fell between the two. Cid continued smiling rather blithely, much to Jihl's annoyance. Was this man really in charge of a prison? Jihl couldn't really imagine what fool would allow him to have such a position of power. Only on Pulse, Jihl surmised. Such nonchalance would not be tolerated on Cocoon. Her silent seethings was suddenly inturrupted when warden Raines broke the silence,
"Four." He raised his hand, displaying four fingers. Jihl blinked, her brow furrowed slightly at the sudden change of topic.
"Excuse me?"
"Four. You have four students," Cid swayed his chair back and forth slightly, "Would be five but unfortunately one hanged herself last night." Jihl remained silent, processing the information. Only four?
"I want you to keep in mind we have just over three hundred prisoners here in this compound." Cid leaned forward, his expression suddenly becoming serious, "You have an office, a piano room and yet only four students. I have been asked by people to cut the piano room altogether." His grey eyes flashed steel, "I hope you can see now just how reasonable your paycheck is."
Jihl gritted her teeth, staring right back into Cid's eyes. "You remind me of someone, warden-"
"Raines."
"My first warden also refused to be called warden." Her voice was quiet and tight with her anger. She leaned forward and continued before Cid had a chance to speak, "I am sure the name Dysley rings some bells for you."
Cid was silent as he observed Jihl, his eyes unreadable. Jihl leaned back into her chair, straightnening out a crease in her skirt. The usual glimmer in Warden Raines' eyes then returned as he clucked his tongue, leaning back into his chair too.
"You have been here for a long time, Miss. Nabaat." Was his soft reply, lacing his fingers together behind his head.
The organ groaned and wheezed out its tired notes as the muddled choir of women muttered along with it, not remotely invested enough to actually sing the song properly. The elderly priest stood at the front, back turned to the rows of worshippers as he bowed his head in prayer. Above him stood the impressive statue of the Divine Goddess Etro, fierce and awe-inspiring. Lightning scowled, honing in on another ball of lint before extracting it deftly; ignoring her neighbour's silent persistance for her to join in the mindless droning.
"Piano lessons? Interested in piano lessons?" A familiar voice hissed behind her. She turned to see it was Mr. Sazh, the eccentric guard in charge of her block, passing out flimsy fliers to the inmates. The inmates barely gave the flier a second glance, crumpling it and dropping the ball of paper on the floor when he moved on. Mind numb with boredom, Lightning watched the man as he made his way down the aisle.
Like the majority of prisoners within Her Eminence Etro's Correctional Facility for Women, Lightning never really put any faith in religion. Far as Lighting was concerned, Etro didn't give two bits to the welfare of humanity so she found little reason to grovel before her.
The dreadful song finally came to an end but it brought no relief as the attendees then stood up. With a grumbling sigh Lightning stood up too, not in the mood to get in an arguement with the guards. The priest then slowly turned around to face the parish, papery thin fingers fumbling with the large book in his arms. The silence that hung in the air was unbearable as the prisoners and guards alike watched the poor man struggle to find the correct page.
Lightning bit down on her tongue to hold back another sigh, leaning heavily onto the pew infront of her with her elbows. Finally locating the correct page and passage with his failing eyesight, the priest then began his sermon.
"Lost in the darkness, we seek for comfort. Our souls weary, torn and frail. Our eyes sore from peering through shadows, searching for what is not there. Only until we release the shackles of our sin, our vices and pride will we then be embraced by our Divine Goddess, Etro." His voice was dry, dead. He gave no cadence to his words resulting in a monotony that stupefied the mind.
Picking at her fingernails, Lightning's eyes roamed around the dusty chapel, taking in the details she came to memorize in the past five years. The distinction between guards and inmates was easy, the guards wore standard uniforms in what Lightning considered a charming diarrhea hue. The inmates all wore a blue plaid shirt offered only in one size, simple white tank tops -though others like to get reckless and wear deviating colours- and highly unflattering cotton pants that resembled the sort of pants doctors would wear.
Lightning was surprised when she was first handed her uniform. She had dreaded the drab grey jumpsuits that was prominent in the films that were smuggled down from Cocoon. Upon putting the bizarre mess of a uniform on, she realized that the grey jumpsuits would have been the lesser evil. On her fifteen year old body the only garment that fit her properly was the tanktop, the pants and plaid shirt was easily two times her size and hung off her like an Adamantoise skin. Five years later she still swam inside the clothes, her body clung persistantly to its rail thin boyish state.
Chewing on her thumbnail, she glanced over to her other neighbour who didn't even bother to stand up. This woman fit more into the standard criteria of the prison's population. Permanently furrowed brows angling over dull, stupid eyes. Thick, almost man-like lips and a strong masculine jaw. Her unkempt brown hair was cut to the hideous ear length bob that the prison barber only seemed capable of doing. Overall, she just screamed butch. As if sensing the young woman's ruthless assestment of her appearance, the woman shifted her beady brown eyes to glare into Lightning's. Holding the stare for a minute, Lightning casually looked away.
"May Etro and the Maker forever guide our souls." The sudden change in tone drew Lightning's attention back to the priest as he announced the familiar ending creed. More muddled murmurs as the multitude of people repeated after him, then the hushed rustling as everyone sat back down.
"In mourning for the deceased, we shall now listen to her favourite sonata. Slauden's A Major." The priest then motioned to the stranger sitting at the organ. Lightning had already analyzed the woman when she first saw her. Straight blonde hair, cold blue eyes, clothes immaculately pressed with thin gold wire glasses propped on her nose, the woman screamed puritan through and through. She watched the stranger as she turned to face the organ once more, hand posed above the keys.
Down, the fingers fell onto the teeth of the instrument, held in position as the first notes announced the beginning of the song. Then they were free, flittering across the chipped ivory teasing out the complex but light hearted song from the battered organ. Rolling her eyes up and away from the hypnotizing dance of the stranger's hands, Lightning felt herself slip into the song. Familiar and comfortable like an old friend. Head still tilted back, her hands began to follow along, ghosting across the pew.
Eyes drawn by a flurry of motion, Jihl looked up from the sheet music to the steel plate on the organ. There in the reflection she saw what caught her attention, an inmate. Specifically the strange pink-haired one that glared at her for reasons unbeknownst to her. Not missing a single beat, Jihl watched the girl mime along with her.
'Interesting.' She raised a pencil thin eyebrow, years of teaching piano to numerous inmates trained Jihl's eyes to spot dexerous fingers. Even through the warped reflection of the metal, Jihl could tell this strange girl far surpassed the vast majority of her pupils.
'Most interesting.' A small crooked grin crossed her face as she finished the song with uncharacteristic gusto.
Ahh yes, Slauden = Mozart. It felt weird to use real world people in their world, so I took some liberties.
Next chapter! Introducing Fang and Vanille, the mysterious jerks and showdown ignites between Jihl and Lightning in the gripping tale: FOUR MINUTES.