Angel of Decadence

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VIII

Author's Notes: Theres just something I'd like to say. The day I finished the draft of the previous chapter, I went to a bookshop to buy a notebook so I could write while not near the computer. Now, the book itself only cost 60 cents (NZ$) but judging by the actions of a sales assistant, you'd think it would be something vastly more valuable. First he did the usual... "Can I help you?" and then, still not satisfied, took to watching from what I guess he assumed to be a safe distance. Honestly, by the way he was glaring daggers at me, you'd think he was accusing me of something. I don't know if it was the long-ish (more like medium-length) hair, the beard (mostache and goatee) or the pure black attire but I got the feeling he didn't quite trust me or maybe he just hates anyone under the age of thirty or do people often steal 60 cent notebooks? If anyone else has been in a similar situation then I'd love to hear about it but for now...

The Fever

Timber's Capital was home to many large and spacious mansions. Squall's house happened to be one of these. His father was a high up, well paid and well respected detective after all. Even in the criminal underground he was both respected and despised.

While his house was not technically a manor, it was spacious enough, especially considering that more often than not, the respected law enforcement officer's son lived here alone. If the renowned detective spent a little more time with his family, perhaps his son would not feel so lonely in the large house. Unfortunately, he was a cop first and a father second and as such, spent most of his time at work, leaving Squall alone in his house. Although this had been the case for quite some time, perhaps now it was finally about to change.

The Interior of Squall's living room was a large open environment. The walls and carpet were a light shade of green. The large open box had double doors leading to the kitchen/dining room and also the main hall that led to the stairway. The living room itself was quite formal. Around the walls were original framed painted portraits – not of family but of famous people in Galbadia's history. At the back was a large comfortable sofa that took up the majority of the wall that it stood back-to-back with. The couch was draped by a large brown cotton blanket. On the front wall of the square room was a large plasma screen television set.

Without taking into consideration the repercussions for his actions that could surely be expected to follow, the brunette brought the girl into his house unseen and placed her delicately upon the sofa, wrapping the blanket around her in an attempt to keep her both warm and dignified.

He didn't know how long it would be until this girl woke up. He just hoped that it would be soon. The new school year for most Timber high schools would begin in a couple of months. With luck, she'd be healthy and on her way back home by then. She seemed fine for the moment. She just needed rest; that was all.

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind then he heard a familiar beep and felt a short vibration in his pants pocket. He pulled out his cell phone and opened it to check the message.

−Vacation over in 1 week, see you then!

Squall smiled, dismissed the message and returned the phone to his pocket. He had one week to endure on his own before the boredom would come to an end. He could handle that. He picked up the remote for the television, turned it on and sat down in the armchair next to the couch.

As usual, there was nothing to watch and he found himself flicking over to a news channel reporting rumoured information about the anomaly in the alleyway. There was no report about the missing body of a teenage girl or about what had happened before the abnormality occurred. There was no information whatsoever about infamous gangsters fighting in quiet-old Timber. There had been no media coverage of the brutal firefight and as such, none of the citizens were any the wiser. The local law enforcement planned to keep it that way. The News presenter's boring monotonous voice droned on and Squall lay back in his comfortable chair. That combined with the fatigue he felt was enough for him to drop off and he was soon consumed by a light sleep.

−One day later

Squall had felt a little uneasy about leaving the girl all alone in his living room, even just for the night so he brought out a few things and made himself a bed right there on the floor. If she were to wake up in the middle of the night, he wanted her to know that she wasn't alone, that someone was there to look after her and should she want or need anything, Squall would be happy to go and get it for her.

While his intentions remained modest and true, the casual onlooker may not have seen it this way however this worrying thought never even threatened to enter the brunette's mind. What was worrying him though was the girl herself.

What Squall had assumed to be a simple case of offering shelter and rest was turning out to be something vastly more complicated. Looking at the unknown girl now, there was no mistaking the truth. It was obvious that her condition had worsened. If it were even possible, her skin had become even paler and colder to the touch; and dark circles were beginning to form around her eyes, giving them a dark sunken look. He wasn't a doctor and didn't know exactly what was wrong with her but one thing was obvious, even to him.

She was sick. Not just that, she was seriously ill.

−One week later

Squall had been taking care of the girl for a while now and she didn't seem much better. While her breathing was back up to a healthier level; her eyes still had circles and there was no sign of her waking. To make matters worse, she was now covered in sweat and her face bore a significant flush. Her chill had been replaced by a fever.

−Two weeks later

After yet another week in Squall's care, the girl was finally beginning to show some improvement. Her fever had lifted, as had the deep circles around her eyes. Her breathing, heart-rate and body temperature were all back up to healthy levels.

Squall was in the kitchen cooking – if it could be called that; he wasn't the best cook but the pantry and cupboards were filled many instant meals, all he really had to do was add boiling water, simmer and serve – and that combined with the lit fire and hot dry summer air – since wood was an abundant resource, no-one in Timber used gas – had given the interior of the house quite a warm atmosphere. He had only done it so the unconscious girl would not be cold but it occurred to him now that perhaps he hadn't thought it through quite enough as it now left the brunette feeling sticky, sweaty and uncomfortable. As a compromise and since he was more or less alone in the house, Squall had taken to walking about the place shirtless.

Physically, he was nothing spectacular to look at. His chest and stomach were flat and his limbs were far from the tree-trunks that athletes possessed. Squall's body was regular, average, plain. He knew that he wasn't a great gem of masculinity but then again, as a mere student of an average high school, he didn't need to be.

Over the sound of water boiling in the pot before him, Squall could hear a feint, foreign sound. He heard a quiet high-pitched groan coming from the living room. His eyes instantly widened.

The girl – she was awake!

Squall rushed to the living room and saw her lying in the middle of the floor, her eyelids closed and draped by a curtain of raven hair. He had positioned her there in order to keep her cool while she was suffering from the terrible fever. Squall leaned over her and his eyes softened in sympathy at what he saw. Since the girl's fever had lifted, Squall assumed that she had been through the worst of it but perhaps this was simply not the case.

The raven-haired girl's body was curled into a tight ball and her hands subconsciously clasped at her stomach as though afraid it would escape. Even through all the hair, it was all too easy to see the excruciation she was enduring. Even through tightly closed, the girl's eyes revealed it all.

She was in pain.

She let out a long, high-pitched, desperate whimper of agony. Squall placed his hand gently on her shoulder but she didn't respond to his touch. His eyes widening in concern, Squall repositioned his hand to touch her cheek. At that moment, the girl's lips slowly parted and she began to salivate. The clear liquid spilled over the edge of her mouth and pooled in Squall's hand.

The brunette stood and backed away, his complete focus on the fluid he held in his right hand. It was thin and warm and it seeped between his fingers.

Squall quickly shook the excess away, leaving it to land in varying sized drops on the carpet before getting rid of the remainder by wiping it off his hand on the fabric of his pants. With that taken care of, he turned his worried eyes back to the girl who seemed to be writhing, squirming and rolling about the floor.

She let out another groan and her limbs all flung out behind her. She now lay unsupported on her side, the trunk of her body resting upon the floor. She arched her back and opened her mouth wider as her entire body began to heave uncontrollably. The only sounds that could be heard were those of the girl's strained irregular breaths. What happened after that was inevitable.

The girl continued to heave and drool all over the carpet and as her spasms became more violent, so too did the fluid erupting from her mouth. The liquid grew in volume and thickness until it was what Squall suspected to be bile and acid that poured from her like white wine and neither of them could do a thing to stop it.

After the last of the bile had slipped through her lips, her body calmed and she lay still. Squall let a sigh escape him as he got to work, cleaning the mess up. He went to the bathroom to fill a bucket with water and retrieve a sponge. With that done, he made a stop in the kitchen to pick up a roll of paper towels before starting the arduous task of cleaning up. Who'd have known that someone who was unconscious for every hour of the day could be so much work?

Truthfully, it was not really her fault. She couldn't control her bodily functions. Squall was simply relieved that she hadn't soiled the carpet. The fact that this may have been interpreted by some as a negative sign never threatened to cross his mind. The thing that occupied him was the bewildering concept on how she managed to pass out in the single stretch of cold damp land in a hot dry place like this. Had she just fallen asleep in the shade or was there more to it then that?

He was practically done when he heard the doorbell chime.

He stood and backed out of the room, examining his progress as he did so. He gave a nod, deciding that it would not likely leave a stain.

He turned as he got to the hall and opened the door. The girl on the other side smiled as he let her in. She had long wavy brown hair and bright green eyes that sparkled like emeralds. She wore her hair tied back in a high pony tail and was clothed in a red t-shirt and tight blue denim shorts that cut off at the thigh, revealing long slender legs. Her skin bore a healthy looking tan, a souvenir from her trip to Balamb. "So, what's up?" she asked. Despite not being an invited guest, she still acted as though being here had been Squall's idea.

"Nothing really" Squall answered. "I was just cleaning up."

"Cleaning up?" the girl questioned, slipping past him to see into the living room where she saw a certain naked girl sprawled out on the ground, lying near a large wet patch of carpet. She raised a suspicious eyebrow "Oh, yeah?" she asked accusingly. "Been having some fun, have we?" she asked sugestively. Squall's face contorted, wordlessly expressing his confusion. "You know, some people would class that as rape." Squall's eyes widened significantly, much to the amusement of this new girl.

"Wait… but I didn't… I was just…" the girl merely laughed.

"Relax Squall, I was just joking."

"Oh… right."

"So, how is she?" she asked. Since this was her second visit to Squall's house since returning, she knew all about how he had found the raven-haired girl in the alley.

"Yeah, I think she's doing a lot better" he replied. "She's gotten over the fever anyway."

"Oh, good" the girl said, sniffing the air, her eyes narrowing slightly in disgust. "Have you been cooking again?" she accused.

"Ah, yeah" he replied, reaching to scratch the back of his head in embarrassment. Squall was no expert cook but something seemed off. The smell from the kitchen was fouler than usual. He was about to go and check on it when the phone rang at the most inconvenient of all times. It was all too much to happen at one time. "Now what?!!" he exclaimed out of frustration before running to answer the phone.

"Ah, Squall?" It was Wedge.

"What is it this time?" the brunette asked rather curtly.

"Well… It's about your father. He won't be…"

"How long this time?" Squall interrupted in a voice that was void of patience and emotion.

"You'll be back at school by the time he returns."

"Great" Squall replied sarcastically.

"You know, he does…"

"Yeah, whatever" the brunette interjected, hanging up on the nervous man. Squall was getting sick of his father and all his excuses. He didn't even bother to call home himself. He had his lackeys do that for him. He didn't have time for his father's nonsense right now. He had too much on his mind.

"Who was that?" his chestnut-haired guest called out.

"My father, he won't be home for the summer at all, now."

"Well what did you expect?" she asked rather coldly. "You know you can't depend on that asshole."

"Yeah… I know" Squall agreed. Some people might have a problem with friends calling their parents names but Squall's father had never really been the fatherly type. He returned to the living room where the foul stench of his flawed cooking permeated the air.

"Ah, Squall…?"

"What?" Squall asked, locked deep in thought."

"I think something's burning." A long pause followed as he lulled this over in his mind.

"Oh…" The absentminded young man then snapped to attention and rushed into the kitchen. "Oh… Oh shit!" His companion merely smirked at the scene but it faded soon after as Squall returned with a large bowl. "Have you eaten?" he asked.

"Ah… no, I… I'm not hungry" she replied with a sheepish grin. Just then, her stomach began to rumble. Squall raised an eyebrow at her.

"Are you sure you don't want any?"

"Oh no, don't worry about me. I'm… I'm… I'm on a diet!" she quickly added, looking rather pleased at herself.

"Okay" Squall replied, using his fork to move some of the food from his bowl into his mouth" His friend cringed as he swallowed the food. "It's actually not all that bad" he told her."

"Really?" the girl asked. "Gimme that!" she said, snatching the fork from Squall's hand and dipping it in his bowl.

"I thought you were on a diet" he criticised.

"Meh" was all she said as she popped a forkful of the food into her mouth – but as it settled on her tongue, she soon wished that she hadn't. Her eyes widened and she looked as though she were about to gag. Squall began to worry that he was in for round two of 'Girls Throwing Up All Over the Clean Floor' but the chestnut brunette soon swallowed the offending morsel. She looked to him and glared. "That…" she furiously stated "was the single worst thing I have ever tasted.

– Three weeks later

On the roof of Squall's house, a crow stood perched, its eyes closed, its feathers unruffled as though it hadn't moved since its initial arrival. It stood silent and unmoving, until…

The bird's eyes snapped open and it tilted its head. The creature clicked its beak twice and let out an unholy squealing caw before taking off to circle the house…

–Something was about to happen.

Inside the house, the raven haired girl slept unclothed on the sofa as Squall slept in an armchair next to it. Between them, the furniture arms and a hardback novel that Squall had been reading.

Slowly, as though in a daze, the raven-haired girl opened her sleepy eyes. She groggily stood to her feet and for the second time in a row, her muscles ached and were stiff as though she hadn't moved in some time. The first thing she noticed was the book resting near her head. Her eyes then travelled to the boy sleeping contently in the chair. There was something familiar about him but she couldn't quite place it.

With a smirk, the girl shook the unnecessary thoughts to the back of her head. She was here for a reason. She was here to kill and here was her first victim, sleeping like a baby… a baby about to suffer cot-death. Her malevolent smirk widened.

Raven was back!