Heartless Angel Versus the Porcelain God
Disclaimer: all Final Fantasy names, characters and locations are property of Square Enix. I own nothing that you recognize.
Sunlight filtered through the bars on the window, bathing his painted face with streaks of amber light. He was alone, though never alone in his own mind, as he sat on the floor of his prison cell, listening to the voices that inhabited the dark corners of his thoughts.
A twisted smile crept across his face, his arms around his legs as he hugged his knees against his chest. He rocked back and forth, the feathers in his hair swaying with the rhythm of his movements. His eyes slowly traveled the length of the room, taking in everything from the steel floors to the pipes that crisscrossed the walls. He'd been in this situation before when he was imprisoned in a mental institution. It was nothing new to him. Only this time he knew they would let him out soon.
It was an elaborate rouse, a lie made to disguise the Emperor's true intentions. He didn't like it in here, but he'd done worse things for the sake of power, such as sacrificing his own sanity. All he had to do was wait, biding his time in this miserable dump until he was turned loose on the Espers that poured from the sealed gate. He'd slaughter every last one of them, then all that precious magicite would be his, and he would grow stronger. Strong enough to revive the Warring Triad and bring about the destruction of the world.
Kefka giggled, rocking faster as he felt the excitement building in his chest. He couldn't wait to close his hand around another shining piece of magicite, his claws scraping against its glowing surface. He remembered how it felt the first time he held a piece of magicite, the way the energy rushed out in all directions, filling him with power the likes of which he'd never felt before. It was more than a source of power. It was a living entity, one that made him shiver as he felt its essence surging through his veins.
He started laughing, his back against the wall as he cackled and howled. He laughed until his sides hurt, tears streaming down his face as his hands clenched against the forceful waves of laughter. But the pain in his stomach didn't subside when he stopped laughing. His insides started cramping, and before long he was forced to make a mad dash to the toilet.
They knew he had problems with his digestion, so why did they serve meatloaf last night? Probably because it would look suspicious if they brought him an assortment of chocolate and fruit on a silver platter. They had to give him what the other prisoners were having, and he had to eat it in order to make it look believable.
He could have refused the day old hunk of stale cow meat, but he was very hungry, and he was in hopes the greasy meatloaf wouldn't bother him as much as it did when the experiments were still going on. And now here he was, sitting on the toilet, feeling like he was going to asphyxiate from the overwhelming stench. If only Leo were here to share his misery. Seeing him gag on the horrific fumes would make the situation more bearable.
Kefka covered his nose with the red and yellow ruff he wore around his neck, then reached over and flushed the toilet. Only it wouldn't flush. The water level rose as the toilet bubbled and began to spew its contents all over the floor.
The mage screeched and backed away from the overflowing toilet. He grabbed the hem of his cloak, lifting the multicolored fabric off the floor so it didn't get wet, and ran to the corner of the cell. If he thought sand on his boots was bad, dirty toilet water was a hundred times worse.
As luck would have it, Locke was passing by the door when he heard Kefka's frantic screams coming from the left side of the prison area. He walked down the hall where he was met with the sight of Kefka tap dancing in the corner of his cell, his back against the bars as he tried to avoid the mess that was creeping across the floor.
It was quite a sight, seeing the clown in a panic because of an overflowing toilet. He raised an eyebrow, a satisfied smirk on his face as Kefka continued screaming and cursing, when all of a sudden the toilet started to vibrtate. They watched as the porcelain throne rattled and shook, looking very much like it was trying to detach itself from the wall and go jogging around the room.
Water gushed all over the floor, spouting like a fountain into the air. The toilet gave one last almighty heave, and Ultros leapt out of the toilet like the Kool Aid man bursting through the wall.
"Oh yeah!" the purple octopus exclaimed as he slid out onto the floor. He shook himself off, sending water and soggy bits of toilet paper flying all over the walls.
Locke's jaw dropped as he stared at the octopus in disbelief. "Ultros?! What were you doing in there?"
The octopus looked at him and grinned. "I was visiting your girlfriend. But apparently the hot little witch isn't into tentacles, so she flushed me down the toilet and I came out over here." He laughed, a dark, dirty laugh that made Locke's skin crawl.
"You bastard!" Locke shouted, gripping the bars on the door so hard his knuckles turned white. "Stay away from Celes!"
Ultros smirked. He raised a slimy tentacle to his lips and whistled, summoning Typhon from the clouds. The living hurricane tore through the wall, sending bricks and debris flying in all directions.
The purple octopus slapped a cowboy hat on his head, laughing as Thyphon reared up like a horse and prepared to launch itself into the sky. He then climbed on Thyphon's back, pointed towards the sky and shouted, "To Lamia!"
Thyphon roared and shot off through the sky, with Ultros waving his cowboy hat as they vanished into the clouds.
Kefka frowned, turning his head and looking at Locke through the bars on his cell. "And to think you call me crazy. Whoever wrote this story should have their head examined."