- Dead Lilies -
There was neither beginning nor end. There were just ... flowers everywhere. In all directions. Thousands of yellow and white fragments of starlight, crushed and contained inside tiny petals, slivers of color amidst the green. Petals were falling from the sky, too. A cloudless dark blue vastness above. Tyrannical in its absoluteness. Guarded in its emptiness. Yet the grass was illuminated as if by an unseen sun. Perhaps here was where I would see her. Here...
The smell of burning flesh abruptly eroded my thoughts, dissolving the dreamy scene, flowers wilting and fading into nothingness. I coughed and awoke.
There were several things that I became immediately aware of, aside from the shooting pain in my leg and the throbbing ache in the back of my head. Sitting upright in a cold metal chair with my arms tightly restrained behind me, I instantly realized my sword was gone, the mako had worn off, and Tifa was nowhere in sight. Someone had wrapped a crude white bandage around the wound on my leg, dark red bleeding through to the edges. Sweat covered my face. My mouth was extremely dry, and I was thirsty.
I took one look around the small room that served as my containment, testing the strength of my restraints but they were solid, thick woven metal. All my muscles ached, and after a brief struggle attempting to free myself, I realized the chair was bolted to the floor. I was in a concrete basement somewhere with no windows or other furnishings, just a dirty yellow bulb hanging naked from the ceiling. A distant buzzing made my head hurt and I couldn't recall how much time had passed. The odor of burnt skin nauseated me.
"Tifa..." I tried to call out, but my voice was hoarse, so it was little more than a whisper.
However, I was not alone. Something stirred behind me, but I couldn't turn my head fully, my neck stiff and unyielding.
"Hello...?" I said apprehensively.
A noise like something dragging itself across the floor was the only response. It was an awfully slow scraping sound like sandpaper against metal, coming closer.
"...Who's there?" I continued, trying to get a glimpse of whatever lay in the darkness outside my vision.
The thing slowly came into view, crawling towards me from behind my left. A hideous mass of bubbly red and black skin, hairless, featureless. A human. Or at least, it had been. It pulled itself closer with its burnt limbs, head turned up at me, and I shrank away from its pained gaze.
"..h..hel..p...me..." Its lips parted, a pink tongue and white teeth the last vestiges of its former existence.
"Oh fuck..." I breathed out, realizing it was very much alive and undoubtedly in excruciating pain.
The thing fell back onto its stomach, apparently exhausted from the two words it uttered.
"I... I can't help you, I'm tied up. But maybe if you can just somehow untie me, then I can help you..." I said hopelessly, knowing the poor thing couldn't possibly untie me with its fingers all seared together.
But it didn't respond. And it no longer moved. I got the sinking feeling it was dead, its last strength consumed with those final words. A new terror fueled my adrenaline because it was clear that my own fate lay charred at my feet. And Tifa... I had seen her get shot, but I refused to believe it. I had to see her again. It was too cruel to pull her away from me after so much.
The wooden door down to my right opened suddenly, and two men I recognized as fellow associates of Jude walked in followed by the man himself. There was a spatter of blood stains on Jude's gray striped suit and a solemn look on his face.
"Jude..." I growled, seething hatred.
He raised his eyebrow in acknowledgement. All three of them stopped directly in front of me. Jude snickered down at the scarred body on the floor, and one of the other assassins picked it up. The crunching sound of the burnt flesh as he held it made me sick.
"Cloud... You know, this is actually quite difficult for me. Because we share many of the same ideals, you and I," Jude began empathetically.
"Save it. I don't share a damn thing with you," I responded angrily.
"We're both men of convention," he went on unaffected, "It's too easy nowadays to pull the trigger of a gun or shove a glowing orb of materia into one's arm and wield magic. It takes a true artist to master the sword so ...flawlessly."
"I'm flattered," I said dryly.
"You are enamored with death, just as I am. It's clear from the precision of your executions that you prefer to engage your target up close and stab them through the heart to watch their eyes dim," he went on.
"What?"
"You don't use materia or bullets, you cut people up. Tell me, does it excite you to watch their blood flow out?"
"What! This is sick!" I shouted.
"Do you feel powerful knowing you hold their lives in the flick of your wrist? Hmm?" Jude continued mercilessly.
"I... well..." His words hit me hard. "Fuck you, Jude!"
"Ah, so I'm right, of course. That's why we are not so different. Because I enjoy that power too. I enjoy watching people squirm when they know they are guilty. I enjoy the very basic image of death." He held an outstretched hand into the air, then closed his fingers into a fist and lowered his voice before continuing, "Of course, I'm speaking of blood. Yes, blood. Blood spilling from a slash down the chest or from the neck. Bullets do not give the same effect. I think you understand that. You carry a katana and a sword that splits into six edges? If that isn't sadistic, I don't know what is," he laughed a little.
"This is bullshit, Jude. I didn't lie to you for the money! You don't understand. I know Tifa. That's why I couldn't complete the job!" I tried to explain.
"Ah, it's too late for that. Unfortunately for you, I don't forgive people who cross me very easily. Perhaps you'll make a good headline in the papers and on the news. So people will have another example of what happens if they try to fuck me over," he said darkly.
He nodded to the man holding the charred body, who exited the room at once.
"That was someone of no consequence," he explained, and drew something from his pocket, "But I'm wondering how long can you go without this." He held up the mako I had taken from Denzel, undoubtedly removed from me when I was knocked unconscious.
I swallowed hard, the sight of it causing my headache to worsen.
"Hmm. How long can a junkie go without a hit, Cloud?" He smiled maliciously, then added, "I've heard the withdrawal symptoms are awful. Good thing you won't be around to experience them, right?"
The other assassin returned, the charred body of course no where in sight. The two glared at me viciously.
"Well, this is the last time I'll be seeing you, and I truly am sorry it had to be you. I was really starting to see a future for you in this business," he concluded with a mocking hint of melancholy.
"We aren't alike, no matter what you say, Jude. You say guns are too easy, but you're the one using them," I said to him spitefully.
"When you're at the top of the food-chain like me, Cloud, you're allowed to be lazy. I had to work my way up, and the katana had always been my weapon of choice, much like you. Now I'm just a damn good businessman. I don't need to get my hands dirty anymore, although the occasional death does still liven up my blood," he said, motioning with his hand toward the door the charred body had been taken through.
"What about Tifa? Where is she?" I couldn't contain my curiosity anymore, the fear of her death all too real.
Jude began laughing.
"This woman is special to you, I see. That makes it all more interesting," he said cryptically after several moments.
"Where is she?!" I repeated, shouting desperately.
"Goodbye, Cloud. I have other matters to attend. Once you're begging for death, I'll be back. That's the part I still enjoy," Jude told me with a smile and turned towards the door to leave.
"Wait!" I screamed to him, but he did not stop.
Then he was gone. The other assassins had stayed behind, however, and were now eyeing me like hungry wolves.
"This is going to be fun," the shorter skinnier one said, his voice fluctuating sporadically with excitement.
"It's always fun watching one of the best fall," the other one replied, eyes on me, "At least our competition will be down. You always did get the highest-paying jobs."
"Wait... You've gotta let me out of here. This is a huge misunderstanding," I said to them, "You work with me! We're on the same side!"
"No. We work for Jude, and you don't anymore. Therefore we are not on the same side," the taller one said.
"Then what are you going to do? Kill me?" I asked cynically.
"No. Jude is going to kill you. We're going to make you wish Jude would kill you sooner." The skinny one grinned, pulling a serrated dagger from the sheath at his waist.
"That's it?" I scoffed.
"You won't be so arrogant after we peel the skin off your face and cut your fucking intestines out," he replied viciously. I was not impressed.
"You can't intimidate me. Get Jude back in here. I wasn't finished talking to -"
The taller one punched me in the mouth, cutting my words short. Pain tore through my jaw, and I remained shocked, opening and closing my jaw to dissipate the swelling numbness. He punched me hard again and I tasted blood. The one holding the dagger was giggling maniacally and lunged forward, pressing the sharp blade to the side of my face, right near my left eyebrow. With a bit of effort, I kicked upwards with my good leg, shoving him back. But he wasn't deterred and suddenly stabbed downward, the dagger cutting directly into my wounded leg. The serrated edge ripped deep and I screamed, hot pain jumping through my spine to my brain. He twisted the handle, the metal turning and cutting.
"Fuck...! S-Stop!" I shouted, squeezing my eyes closed.
The dagger was pulled out, ripping more as it exited, and warm blood gushed outward down my leg. He once more pressed the blade against my eyebrow, liquid dripping down my face from it.
"I don't like your eyes," he snapped, "Shiny. I don't like shiny things. Maybe I'll just cut them out."
I refused to open my eyes, trying desperately to conquer the rush of panic and fear. Pain was only a temporary thing, I told myself. A thing I had to control if I was going to get out of this somehow.
The blade was pressing inwards now, cutting below my eyebrow, following the edge of my eye socket almost playfully then tracing over my cheekbone. I jerked my head backwards, but there was a sharp blow to my stomach as the other guy punched me hard once more. The definite increase in the force of his punches indicated that he had now put on metal knuckles, much to my dismay. My stomach ached horribly, and I struggled once more to free my hands, but the restraints didn't budge. The skinny one let out a groan of annoyance and grabbed my neck with one hand, holding me steady as the wet edge of the dagger cut down the side of my face slowly, a relentless sharp sting paling all other injuries. I bit my lip, hard.
Another punch to the other side of my face brought a fresh pain, my eye instantly swelling, my brow cracked from the brass knuckle. Still, I kept my eyes closed and my lips sealed. I tried to picture that field of endless flowers that I had found myself dreaming before. Yellow and white in green under blue. They were so blurry now, though. Red was everywhere. Everywhere.
I imagined kneeling in the field, flowers all around me. But the closer I looked, the more I saw that the dashes of yellow and white were not so vibrant anymore. In fact, all the flowers were wilted. I was surrounded by an infinity of dead lilies.