Disclaimer: It aint mine, I swearz! Really! I just want the vampire! I don't own Final Fantasy or anything in it! I just have an obsession and won't admit it, so-…aww shit. Just read the damn story.

Chapter 2

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"Cooooooooold!!!"

The cry seemed to instantly drown in the relentless onslaught of snow flurries. Flurry seemed to kind a word for these harsh, icy winds. Her face was numb, making blinking a more difficult task than she ever deemed possible. Her eye stung with the invasion of frosted pellets and snowflakes, unable to shield her from them. No matter where she turned, another frozen slap in the face was always waiting for her. She had wrapped the scarf around her neck and lower part of her face to keep some meager part of her thawed. It was just barely successful. How she longed for a big, fuzzy, electric helmet. They needed to exist. They had to. It was imperative to humanity that big fuzzy, electric helmets be sold on every street corner and marketplace, so that no person would have to-

"Cold, cold, coooooold!!" She shook her head vigorously, unable to bear the thought of heat she could not attain.

The snow had reached her knees and soaked through the fabric of her single pant leg. Never had her outfit seemed so useless. At the time, it seemed like a stylish, new age fashion statement, what with material only covering one leg and having shorts on the opposite. Now, it seemed the like the stupidest thing she had ever done. The olive garment hung from her hips, baggy and full around her left leg while the right was left with your average cutoff short. The left leg wasn't entirely barren, for she had a large, metal-plated shin guard and kneepad covering the vulnerable flesh. It even wrapped around her calf and heel.

Her shirt was a series of lightweight plates, thin and thick fabric. The ensemble was connected with a series of wrings that connected the thick cotton collar to the neck of her undershirt, leaving shoulders bare, save some netting. Both arms were encased in armguards that mocked gauntlets of sorts. The outer layer was topped with a thin, unadorned breastplate that ended several inches from her navel, completing her armor. Armor indeed. Armor for what? Snow bunnies? Hurrah for that! Screw defense. She needed Ifrit to come at her with a fire attack to the face. Hot damn. Literally.

Yet here she was, trudging through this frozen wasteland without so much as a match.

The night had carried on like an arctic nightmare, never once allowing the snow and ice to settle. Her body remained frigid without relief in sight. This sinking feeling in her stomach began to sink further into her bladder, weighing her down with dread. This had been a very, very bad idea.

Another gust of wind sent her frost tipped braids flying, slapping her face like pinpricks. The thin russet bunches were most unkind, scratching her face without mercy. Maybe she could break one off and chew on it. That might stimulate a few muscles.

The icy mountains were an absolute nightmare to cross, but they carried the promise of hidden caves within their rocky hulls. All that stood between her and the frozen oasis was the very ridge she stood upon.

She began a mantra, reminding herself of life beyond the snow as she dragged onward. There was more! The Popsicle from Hell would be just a bad memory soon.

Just a couple more days… Then it's off to Costa Del Sol… Sun… Burning concrete… Hot sand in the ass… Sun… UV rays… Skin cancer…

"Bring on the sun burns, baby!!!! " She shouted, thrusting her arm above her head as if she had just won a prize at the Golden Saucer.

But, oh, how she was… not… at the Golden Saucer.

The ground groaned beneath, causing her momentary celebration an abrupt end. Her eye widened as her arm retreated back down to her side. At once, she became extremely wary, not trusting the ice to be so vocal in its opinions.

"…"

Without any other warnings, the ice gave out from beneath her. What had once been remotely decent footing now became a deadly sinkhole. Her arms left her sides to flail out around her, waving unsteadily as she tried to keep upright. Down she went, screaming wordlessly, slipping into the icy chute for an uncomfortably wild ride. She hit the walls so harshly that the contact shook her to the bone, deeming the armor useless. Merely seconds later, it spit her out like a bad grape, sending her tumbling into the frigid snow. Her body tumbled, rolled and bounced until she came to a halt against the single protruding rock she had seen the entire day. She met it shoulder first, yelping at the harsh contact. The skin stung, raw and unprotected against the harsh climate. She deemed it hardly worth nursing and rose to her feet, shaky and unsure. The ground beneath was equally unsteady, for she knew this mountain range was a death trap. That ice chute was not a comforting memory. Her single, wild gray eye darted about frantically. Now the paranoia would set in and leave her as jittery as ever. That chute couldn't have been the last. She was hardly that naive (only a little bit, honestly).

On the plus side, she had gotten to her feet with little trouble. Her body was still intact and functioning properly. Well, at least the breathing, standing and worrying part. She couldn't feel any of that occasional moisture between her legs, so she had managed to avoid pissing her pants! That alone was worth about 3 self-awarded brownie points.

A semi-gloved hand skimmed her right arm from elbow to shoulder. It ceased moving as soon as she felt the small twinge of pain, mentally noting she'd taken hull damage right about… there. It wasn't bleeding, but the skin had taken on a much rougher texture. It was skinned and bruised, most likely. Leaving it be, she tightened the scarf once more, pulling it taught against the cold skin of her face. The pressure against her back was comforting, knowing that her cargo was still safe beneath a harness of belts. An oddly shape object lay across her back, obscured by the leather.

When she felt as though her bone marrow had frozen, she began to move again and get that blood flowing. The wind howled, nipping at her ears as she trudged onward, her thick-soled shoes crunching the ice beneath. Onward, onward she marched. Well, sort of marched. It wasn't a very lively march, at that.

It came to a very quick halt, too.

Her head snapped upwards, no longer focused on her footing. She heard it. The wind carried a sound that no mountain alone could make, no matter how ill fated it might have been. Her eye strained to see through the relentless snow flurries while her left hand slowly wandered up and over her shoulder, fingers mingling blindly through a series of leather straps.

Then it came, a cloud of steam billowing out before it, and then fading. Again and again, she saw the cloud rise and fall as the snout and body came into view. Oh, how she frowned.

"For the love of…." She groaned through clenched teeth as the Bandersnatch stalked forward, its fangs bared and dripping with steaming saliva. The way its nostrils flared as it stared her down, panting heavily as if fantasizing… yeah, she wanted out. Fast. She didn't like the whole dinner on ice idea.

The wandering hand found its target and unclipped the belts, drawing out what appeared to be a metal crossbow. Fumbling against the cold, she began to strap it onto her arm with the opposite hand, fingers tumbling clumsily to achieve this. Meanwhile, the Bandersnatch was making his wolfish advances, giving her the 'I'm-gonna-eat'cha-n'-vomit-up-your-bones' stare.

"God, I hate these things… stupid… overgrown… inbred… monkey-dogs…"

She grumbled, pulling the straps tight against her. With a hiss of victory, she thrust her newly armed hand outward, making use of that one good eye.

The creature snarled viciously, making ready to pounce. Its thickly furred body sank low into the ice, muscles bunching up beneath skin as it readied itself for the attack.

Come ooooon, Materia… She dug into her pouch, digging out the ammunition she needed. As she removed her hand, she eyed the contents. It wasn't pretty.

"What???" she squawked, gaping at her stock, "One Fire??? 'The flippin' @#%$!!" Her gaze snapped towards the wolfish fiend, glaring angrily.

"You little bastard. I ain't wasting this shit on you. Find your own damn fire."

It growled. It wasn't a nice growl, either. It was the kind of growl that made her wish she had stuck around Icicle for a tad longer, maybe a month or two. Instead, she cringed and scrambled for her less appealing, second option. Digging further, she whipped out a few metallic orbs and loaded them into the feed.

Planting her feet as firmly as possible in the snow, she outstretched her bow arm before her and clicked the fodder into the barrel. With the pull of the trigger, the mouth exploded and shot the orbs forward, both piercing the wolf creature's shoulder. It yelped, thrown from its pre-pounce position. She grinned from behind her scarf, sensing the approaching victory.

But the Bandersnatch merely growled deeper, then threw its vile head back in a howl. The shivers had a field day, spiraling down her back and winding around her spine. It was suddenly very, very quiet.

Until four more clouds of breath began to appear, two on either side of her opponent, accompanied by a chorus of dangerous growls.

Her throat became dry. Very, very dry. Slowly, she repositioned the bow before her, staring down the steel shaft and at the center enemy, watching as its emerald eyes remained completely focused on her frozen body. The pallid masses of fur advanced slowly, almost leisurely. She could feel the moist warmth of their breath as they inhaled deeper, taking in her sent.

She shut her eye and pulled the trigger.