M-chan: Please know that I didn't steal this. It's me, RepaingButNeverGrim! Only MSN shut off my e-mail address. And therefore, when I foolishly forgot my password, AGAIN, I made this one.

I. NO. OWN. FFVII.


Cold, hating, numb. A vague way to describe a prisoner trapped within the walls of confinement. As so I thought--I know not of where I am. I have no acknowledgement of my name…or any memory of what happened earlier. My body, enclosed in the iron, barred icy cage and I focused my grey eyes towards a pair of feet in dress shoes, and what seemed to be a bed. Next to the bed, was a fairly large leather coat, and tall, black boots. Ah, someone else was here.

Deciding that it was time to snap from the vegetation, I tried to raise my head. A dull thump rattled the cage. Dark locks of my ebony hair cascaded around head, and didn't substitute as a cushion. The dulling pain. The pain… Letting out a hiss, the two men seemed to have noticed I had awakened. As to not arouse the moment, I kept my head low and my eyes shut. I heard them murmur, and the resonance of the pair feet went out. I counted two pairs, so the other one must have stayed. Maybe he was lying down, I think--maybe he was sleeping?. Still…why was I here? Cracking an eye, I saw a green illuminated laboratory filled with millions of test tubes, victims, sterile surgery instruments, and a horrid feeling of nauseating euphoria . Oh, the smell. The scent of anesthetic, was strong and so very pungent that my brain buzzed. Sounds of liquid bubbling, computers, and machines echoed here and there. It had much resemblance of…a hospital. Except that hospitals don't have scary, green lights or nauseating odors.

The usual questions rose to my curiosity, 'Why am I here? Who am I? Where am I? What…am I?'

Frail and laconic, I remained in my fetal position. Bony, thin and pale legs clearly told me that I wasn't fed. I looked at my hands and they too repeated the thin fragility of a sickly child. And now, that truth. I looked down and saw what scared me…boobs. Female. Great. Not that I was complaining, but I do know that I am stuck--cuing the pause and saw that these feet outside my cage were male--here, with two men. Cautiously, my right--I think--hand raised and threaded itself in my hair. Wincing, I felt a tiny knot ripping itself from my scalp. A tiny clump of hair threaded around my fingers. Whoopee, I am going bald, people.

Feeling a bit energetic, I carefully got up, only to feel a slight twist in my spine. Before I knew it, my mouth plastered itself on the floor of the cage.

"Ow…that hurt…" I whined pitifully.

Being distracted by the stinging and iron taste in my mouth, I failed to hear the footsteps of the previous figure that left, a small conversation, and rubber tightening. But…I smelled alcohol.

"Nnn…ahhh!" came the moans of pain. More expressions of violent pain writhed within the man.

Mindlessly nosy, I peeked from the cage to see a man. Bringing his body to a tight crouch, I was able to see what he looked like. Moreover, by Holy, was I appalled to see the poor figure…such beauty and such pain. Long, ashen, silvery-white locks cascaded his shoulders while two, long forelocks stood upright and let the ends finish to his chest. Emerald eyes that blinked and let tiny, miserable tears of pain fell onto his reddish face.

So much like a Roman statue: no flaws, pale, strong defining details. Yet, I pitied him. Why was he in pain? Two of his toned arms wrapped around his abdomen. Something was hurting him, but what was it? I tried to speak to know if he was alright, but nothing came out. Squeaking whines and whimpers were not produced. What about the voice I had earlier? Did it just…disappear? If so, I was not going to give up. My arm stretched out far to touch him. I felt his hair…how soft it was…no. I cannot be distracted by that.

Although--the iron-tight grip he gave me now frightened me. Somehow, what I tried to do did not help. Neither did his grip. Anguish glazed his eyes, and perspiration poured down his face. Labored breathing that bore the cries of his lungs' need for air, composed for peace. All in a way, no longer did I feel worried, but timid. For his state and my sanity, I helplessly waved my arm, slowly bringing him from his angle.

"A-are…you…okay?" I managed to whisper.

Aha…I finally found my voice. Weak, but it will become useful once I get some practice. So far, I am doing little progress. The silver-haired man is still in pain, but not as much as before. That was what mattered for now. By now, he fell completely, causing a slight quiver in the ground. In addition, all I could think of now was…how heavy he was. To me, it looked like all the frenetic pain submerged his body to a slumber. Sighing, I wrenched my hand, only to hear his moan.

"What are you doing?"

"Wh--you can talk?" my lips spoke. Well…that solved a mystery…he is obviously not dead or

asleep…the bad news for me was…if he was awake, what would happen to me? Would he kill me? Holy, no. I don't want ithat to happen! I just woke up, witness a major breakdown from this guy, and now…I am going to be killed.

"Of course I can. Allow me to ask you again. What are you doing?" he voiced in annoyance.

At loss for words, I lay silent. By the tone of his deep, baritone voice, he sounded slightly angered. What could I tell him? 'Oh, you were moaning and writhing in pain, so I decided to help; then 'lo and behold, you snatched my poor arm.'

Yeah, right. Next thing I know, I'll get mauled. Still, I focused the look in his catlike eyes. His emerald, feline eyes… Ha, I'm beginning to sound like a lovesick groupie. Wait…how did I know what a 'groupie" was? What is a groupie?

"ARE YOU DEAF, WOMAN?" bellowed the silver-haired male. Ouch…my eardrums. He didn't bark, but that voice of his sure was strong. Either I was amazed or anxious; I do not know.

"No, I'm not! I was only trying to help."

Oh, damn…I blurted. Soon enough, my hands flew to cover my mouth. Once again my gaze faced the floor. Something that I know not of as well is manners. That sucked, I guess. Now, I closed my eyes, wishing all fear to die out. Pound after pound, my heart felt like it experienced a race.

Silently, I prayed that he was not annoyed be my abrupt answer. Waiting…waiting…I waited for him to kick the cage or something, but I never felt the impact. Only the sound of a body rising, then leather creaking, and zippering. He was done dressing himself--that I know; now, will he punish me? Shaking that thought furiously out, I prayed that what I thought didn't come back to bite me in the ass. That usually happened, I guess. Is what I said from a recent memory?

I hope so. That would be nice, because living a clueless life is never what a person should get. At a snail's pace, my eyelids lifted, only allowing me to see the male's boots. I glimpsed up, only to meet the blade he bore. A tight moment there, seeming he had the willpower to pierce my forehead and not flinch in disgust. Nevertheless,…I had a mind. It tells me not to be afraid, so here I sat.

Silent. Inert. Maybe valiant, too.

Second, minute, he chuckled. The same baritone voice. Somehow, I took a liking to it. How it can sound both sadistic or annoyed, the way it can make a person submit to one word he utters…a power truly suited for him. He then placed his sword somewhere behind him, and looked at me. We both stared at each other's gaze. One saw another feeling. In him, I saw slight bloodlust and sorrow; in mine, he saw fear, innocence, and probably empty-headedness. Oh, how I loved those orbs of green. Although, the green I looked at, to me, seemed unnatural. As if what tampered him caused him to have such a beautiful glare.

"…brave, aren't we? I held your life by a mere thread, and you did not scream in fear."

"I know when to be afraid. Don't question me, because I think you wouldn't kill me that easily."

Once again, his gaze held annoyance. Then, he kneeled to meet my eyes. A slight grin graced his sweet, pallid, rose lips. Uh-oh. Here I go again with my big mouth…

"Do not try my patience, ignorant child. As innocent as you look, I would still have killed you. After that injection, I feel like honing on my skills. You, child, make a perfect target."

Crap, crap, and crap. Now I'm target practice? Way to go, me.

"I'm not a child. I'm a lady, and I rather prefer you call me that." I stated. No more playing and being mannerly, I calmly awaited his next answer.

"I pity you, young lady…" he replied, "but I believe I was ordered to release you from this, and take you to receive your armor." he said, taking a key from his pocket.

I stared at the metal object…I loathed it. Even if it granted my freedom.

"Ah, I see it has awoken. Very good, now to examine it." another voice said. I directed my gaze at the other person, seeing that it was the scientist from before. Oh God, I was going to get a shot now?

What am I, a rat?

"Yes, but I am afraid she'll need…discipline…"

"Discipline?"

Somehow, that word had me sick to my stomach and the next wasn't going to be pleasant. As the scientist shadow loomed above me, I mentally screamed "RAPE!".


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