Tifa awoke in darkness. She blinked numerous times, desperate to make sense of her surroundings but despite the effort, her sight could only make out the floor beneath her, the wall at her back and the cold, iron chains shackled viciously to her wrists. Realisation suddenly slammed into the woman and her body stiffened as the memories streamed with a slicing pain back into her head.

Her skull ached as she twisted into a sitting position, her vision blurring with the movement. Terrified, Tifa scanned the area around her, expecting the luminescent green eyes to burn out of the darkness. Again seeing nothing but a black abyss she allowed her muscles to relax and tried to make sense of her situation.

Sephiroth was back, that was dead certain. But why? For revenge?

A high possibility and probably the most logical.

The bastard must have realised AVALANCHE were too much for him when together, but alone…the tables were definitely turned in his favour and Tifa was just unlucky enough to be his first victim.

What did he have planned for her? Maybe if she gave in without a fight her death would be quick and painless. Wait, no what was she thinking? Of course she was going to fight. But as the young woman smirked at her confidence, the confusion of why Sephiroth hadn't just killed her already slowly began to eat at her mind. Perhaps the idea of her agonized screams filled him with some sick and twisted pleasure. She squirmed at the thought. Was he still even here? For all she knew he could have just left her chained in this place until she died from starvation.

But whatever his motives were, Tifa knew she was in trouble. The metal strained against her, cutting deeply into her skin as she tried to break free. Escape was obviously not an option at this moment in time. Was it possible she could get free if Sephiroth came back?

As if on queue, heavy footsteps, faint at first, became audible to her, growing closer with every step. The owner was walking at a steady, relaxed pace and Tifa soon found herself counting out each footfall, possibly in an attempt to calm herself as a sickening nausea welled up in her gut.

Nearby, a door creaked open and the flickering light of a candle emerged, lighting the room with an orange glow. Instinctively, Tifa pressed herself tight into her corner and all but completely shut her eyes, hoping she could still get away with unconsciousness.

From between the small gap her eyes had formed, the girl could make out an average sized room, spacious and, to her surprise, containing several pieces of furniture, including a blue, moth-eaten couch in the furthest corner, an old fashioned television sitting in front and an unsteady looking bookcase strewn with dusty, plain backed books on a nearby wall.

All of these sat on the opposite side of the room to her, filling it out and making it almost cosy in its own twisted way. Her side however was made up of a barren, concrete floor, with empty corners and blank walls to match on all sides. Tifa would have laughed at the comparison but the sudden realisation that her captor could not be seen made her heart jump into her throat. She froze, listening intently, hoping something, anything could alert her to his position. She could feel eyes watching her, but from where?

Something hard touched her leg, lightly at first then withdrew before slamming back into her so hard she had to bite her tongue to stop her from crying aloud.

Tifa could feel the brush of Sephiroth's trench coat as he stepped over her still form. She lay still, hoping he still hadn't realised she was awake.

Cold fingers reached down and brushed the hair from Tifa's face before tilting her head firmly with one hand while the other slowly lifted an eyelid.

His piercing eyes stared speculatively into her own and she was certain she would have thrashed out there and then had her tongue not been clamped painfully between her teeth.

With a satisfied smirk, Sephiroth released her and turned away towards the couch where, with casual ease, kicked the "on" switch of the TV before collapsing onto the blue cushions behind him.

In the far corner, Tifa lay unmoving, paralyzed with fear and anger. She knew she'd fooled Sephiroth this time but for how much longer could she pull it off. Until she was rescued? Cloud didn't know where she was. Hell she didn't even know!

With a cruel twist, Tifa felt her world crash in around her. She felt alone and defenceless, her only company being two iron shackles and a sadistic bastard who probably intended to torture her till death.

She suppressed the muffled cries now escaping from her throat but allowed the silent tears to fall, trailing her bruised cheeks in small streams. Was she really going to die here? What was she saying, of course not. She was Tifa Lockhart; she had faced countless challenges and come out triumphant. There was nothing life could throw at her that she couldn't handle.

But despite her attempts at comfort, the young girl didn't feel too convinced and with a final shudder, Tifa quietly curled in on herself and waited for sleep to come.


Black corridors, echoing with the sound of heavy breathing; Tifa's breathing, matched with the sound of her feet as she ran into the abyss. She could feel him, hear his laughter, knew he was gaining. She wanted to scream but her voice caught in her throat. Metal brushed her face and she fell to the ink black floor, frozen as her tormentor caught her throat in his hands. His eyes would burn out first, illuminating his pale face, now lifted by his sadistic grin. The grip tightened, dots flashed in her vision, warning bells ringing in her ears. Tifa could hear his laugh diminish, watched as his face disappeared into the darkness until nothing was left.

Alone, terrified, Cloud's name burst through her trembling lips and her eyes flashed open.

Tifa shivered violently as her mind returned to the real world. It was only a dream, yet she was still here, in that half-empty room. And she was not alone.

The sound of regular breathing and the rustle of movement alerted the woman to the couch where the unmistakeable form of Sephiroth lay, sprawled in a deep sleep.

An early-morning light was shining across the room through a small window she'd failed to notice the previous night. It lit the room dimly but added little comfort to the young woman. Well at least now she could have a basic idea of the time.

Sephiroth turned abruptly and Tifa eyed him warily, noting the long, black trench coat now draped as a blanket along his extended form. Her eyes flared with hatred as her own body shook with cold. She wanted to feel her fist collide with his face, she'd even go as low as attacking when he had his back turned, but the simple truth was, she couldn't beat him alone.

There was a heavy thud and Tifa's eyes lit up with amusement as she saw Sephiroth pushing his body up from the floor. Now that he was awake, Tifa, as quietly as possible, turned her head away and feigned sleep, waiting as the man strode away from his make-shift bed and out the door, its hinges creaking mechanically as it closed.

Tifa listened, carefully trying to make out an image of what lay beyond the room.

Sephiroth's footsteps were swiftly moving away from her. Possibly a long corridor?

There was a sudden miss to the beat Tifa had been counting in her head and the sound of faster and lighter steps replaced the first. Stairs? They sounded like the similar metal-railed stairs Cid had on his airship. God knows how many times she'd tripped down those damn things before she'd gotten used to them.

She counted twenty four before Sephiroth's movements were too inaudible to note clearly. The silence suddenly overwhelmed the girl, once again pushing her mind into its own solitary confines.

Stiffly, Tifa propped herself onto her elbows, stretching her muscles just to remind her she was still all there. A pain shot down her left leg and on inspection, she could clearly make out a nasty, black bruise resting hideously along the side of her shin. The woman could still feel the ache of Sephiroth's boot from where he had kicked her last night and allowed herself to curse him to hell before finishing her inspection.

Her wrists stung were her skin was constantly being rubbed by the shackles, every movement she made digging the metal deeper.

Tifa inhaled slowly, a futile attempt to ease her mind. She pulled an arm forward so that a length of chain rested loosely across her lap and distracted her distorted thoughts by counting the small links between the shackle and the wall. She had only reached nineteen when the sound of heavy boots returned and she swivelled into a lying position just as Sephiroth emerged through the door.

The strong smell of coffee filled the room and Tifa immediately realised just how deprived her stomach truly was. She was starving.

She could see him out of the corner of one semi-closed eye. He was seated at the edge of the couch, mug in hand while his other arced in an exasperated sweep through his hair.

Without reason, Sephiroth suddenly stopped, his coffee hovering motionless in the air before his mouth. Tifa instantly felt uncomfortable. Was she missing something? Did something big happen on the news? Or had he just forgotten to put sugar in his drink?

The thought made her laugh, but the humour was short lived as realization set in. Her stomach knotted painfully as nausea overwhelmed her thoughts.

Sephiroth's mouth was lifting slowly into a grin, his eyes locked on Tifa. The mug slowly descended to the floor.

"Good morning Miss Lockhart."

No, not now. She couldn't do this yet. How could she have been so stupid? With her assumption that her captor was distracted, the young girl had failed to notice just exactly where Sephiroth's gaze had wandered. She had given herself away.

But it was too late now. With a cautious dread, Tifa opened both her eyes and stared back, her mind cursing her naivety.

"Still asleep?" Sephiroth smirked, sending nervous shivers down the girl's spine. "Although, you've had the better part of three days to catch up."

Three days? The young woman felt nauseous. If she'd had anything in her stomach at that moment, she would certainly have lost it.

"Not to worry." The man rose from the couch and moved towards her, his smile spreading with every step. "You'll have plenty of time to rest while you're here."

As he came within an arm's length of her body, Tifa recoiled and pushed herself defensively into the wall. He raised an eyebrow in amusement. "There's no need to fear me Tifa." Crouching low, Sephiroth brought his hand to her face and forced her gaze to his. "So long as you behave, you'll find your stay here quite bearable. And if I think you're behaviour exceptional, who knows, you may even be fed."

The woman's face blazed red and she maliciously spat her answer into his face. Undeterred, Sephiroth casually rubbed a hand across his jaw, before suddenly backhanding the girl across the cheek with brutal force. Tears flowed instantly down her skin, cooling the area now burning with his hand print.

"We shall see Miss Lockhart." His voice was like an extra blow to her heart and she could do nothing but look away as he left the room, the door closing silently behind him.

A small pool began to form beneath her cheek as she placed it over the ground, welcoming the cooling touch.

Tifa's body shuddered with every cry that escaped her lips, her mind in turmoil for when Sephiroth returned. Her future life seemed to disappear and she dreaded whatever was left of it. Would she ever get out of this place? Would she ever see her friends again? A face burned vividly in her head, blue-mako eyes shining brightly. Cloud. Would he ever know what she truly felt for him?

She needed his comfort, his voice, his touch and her heart went to him now, ringing out its own desperate cry, wondering if it may ever be answered again.