Hey, all. Herr Wozzeck here.
Surprisingly, this is the shortest story I have written as a fic author, coming at just under 1000 words. Usually, I take forever to describe stuff, but here I surprisingly keep it short and simple.
This is my FFQ story. There are no cuts from the FESS version what with the length.
Mind you, there are elements from the story that are taken from the number Feel the Rain Fall from the musical Parade. I was gonna make this a songfic, but I couldn't find a good place to fit the lyrics. So just plain text based off of the song.
Disclaimers! Right!
I do not own FE7. That belongs to the guys at Nintendo. Anybody you don't recognize belongs to me (and yes, even this story isn't spared from my usual OC habit).
With that, I give you Feel the Rain Fall. Enjoy!
Feel the Rain Fall
Thunder cackles all around me as I stand in front of what used to be a village.
This village—or rather, this thing that used to be a village—is the interest of my desires for many reasons. Namely, her.
She is now kneeling submissively in front of me, waiting for the inevitable. She knows she cannot escape it. She knows what I'm about to do, after all.
Who is she, you may inquire? She is a young woman who I have met over the course of my journeys. She goes by the name of Ortlinde, a wyvern knight allied with the nation of Bern, apparently. I've heard about her somewhere. Some major general with that nation, apparently. Just and righteous, as most people from the area are.
Although, if you ask me, jumping into the affairs of other people not in your nation is not what I would consider 'just and righteous'.
Her blonde hair flutters in the wind as I approach, a smirk eventually evolving into a smile on my face with each step I take towards her.
What has she done to end up like this, you ask? Nothing much—all she did was to defend a village that was being attacked by me.
When one interferes with my plans, they pay.
It had all been a simple stroll in the plains of Sacea: the village guards were centered on the same gate. They were very badly trained, as their somewhat inexperienced sword strokes told me. Those went down easily.
From there, nobody had any way of knowing the infamous Sword Demon had arrived…
Until I entered at least.
Directly in front of me was a quartet of children at play with the usual games that they played with the dust. I have always thought of children as foolish little beings, playing their games in the dirt amongst themselves and with others their age. Usually, they are the ones to go first because of this.
Accordingly, my blade came down on them first. A woman who was attending to them screamed the kind of scream that I lust for each day. She came down next.
Things went like my normal killings would be: the villagers would scream and attempt to run away, only to bump into each other. Every so often, a villager would escape, but not before I had given them a wound they never knew about until it was too late. The blood began to form a little river in the side of the street, where dismembered limbs and the occasional piece of human entrails would be left to rot in the sight of whatever god ruled the weather above.
But then, she arrived right when I was about to kill an elderly woman who was helping two children escape. When I lifted my blade, a wyvern roar had caught me off guard. This enabled them to escape unscathed.
In my anger, I turned on her, and we began a long duel. I instantly recognized who she was; legends of Ortlinde had spread throughout the land. Of course, she was a formidable foe, being on a wyvern, so I had the occasional cut on my skin.
However, the tides turned when her wyvern happened to be too close to me. All I had to do was slash across its belly, and it fell to the ground. Its blood rained down on the ground next to me as it came to a crash.
Ortlinde, however, got up.
She had interfered with my plans, and for that, she would really get it.
She turned around, which gave me a cue to slash her lance arm off.
This sent her plummeting to the ground. Since I had dashed right by her, I was a distance away from her.
And thus began the walk that I currently am taking part in.
When I get to her, she collapses, face to the sky, holding her other arm up as if to reach for something that was not there, reaching for anything that would fall within grasp of her hand; the pedals of the nearby cherry tree that are fluttering all over the area from the massacre, the rain, the air, anything.
I start by chopping that hand off. She screams in pain and cringes, unable to cling to her arm to lament the loss of her hand.
"Say my name," I tell her. "Say my name, and I will spare you the torture."
"Never!" she managed to weakly shout.
Her left leg comes off next, and she screams in pain.
"Say it!" I tell her.
"No!" she manages to weakly say.
Her right leg comes off after that. This earns me a well-earned groan of pain.
Persistent little bitch.
"If you say my name, I will spare you the torture of having your limbs removed," I say. "Now, say my name."
She is hesitant at first.
"K… Ka… Karel…" she manages to say weakly.
My blade goes from her arm to her neck.
The sweet sound of a head being chopped off sounds, and then her head rolls involuntarily away from her body.
I walk away from the scene without even stopping to bury these individuals. The rain pelts me even harder than before.
What have these villagers done to me that would make me do something like this?
This village did nothing to me, and yet I slaughtered every last individual that was there.
Such is my lust for the feel of blood running down my body in streams.
I walk away from the scene, and as I walk, the rain falls enough that I can feel it fall on my shoulders.
Author's Afterward:
And there you have it. That was the fiction. Dark, wasn't it?
Review!