Red's nose wrinkled at the loathsome odor wafting through the night air. He shrunk away from the dumpsters lining the alleyway, trying to stay in the middle, as farthest as possible. Likewise, Zexion kept his sleeve to his face in a vain attempt to filter the putrid atmosphere. If there was one word that could be used to describe this place, the boy thought it'd be "barren".
Looking around, Zexion couldn't believe this place could support any life. It looked as if no one had been here in years. The cracked pavement, the pungent scent of neglected garbage, more so, the lack of any vermin or plant life, made Zexion reconsider if he was in the right place. Then, a tall man morphed out of the shadows. Of all the things to be playing with, he was shuffling a deck of cards.
"Well, well, well. What have we hear? You lost, little boy?" he didn't sound curious at all.
Zexion automatically didn't trust this man. Regardless of the shady setting, the air about him sent doubt throughout the boy's mind. He remained silent while Red snarled.
"You know, we could make a deal. I take you home, you don't say anything."
"What's there to say."
"Watch it, kid," the man snarled, flipping back his coat to flash a silver object gleaming in its belt-sheath, "We don't take to sarcasm that well."
"Who's 'we'? You and the balls you don't have?"
His eyes blazed, "What!"
"If you did, you'd have shot me already. You haven't, you can't. No balls."
"Kid, I've shot hundreds more than you ever will. I've done things your little fucking head couldn't even imagine."
"Maybe so. However, I've something you don't."
"And what's that, a pea-shooter?"
Zexion patted Red's head, "A dog."
At that moment, Red bolted forward. The man quickly took out his heater and shot at the animal. Red swerved to the side and dodged. His swift paws allowed him to successfully avoid six bullets. Sparks flew up around Red's feet. He was a blade against another. As the man paused to reload, Red leapt into the air, lunging at the man's shoulder. An audible snap resonated throughout the otherwise soundless space, and then a cruel thud when they landed on the tar. Red released him, padding over unharmed and tail wagging.
"Good boy," Zexion said, bending down to kiss Red's snout.
Zexion took the gun with its six killers and resumed scoping the perimeter. On his shoulder, the crow said nothing.
The trio went deeper into the abandoned pit and found a building made of brick. It was filthy, the door rotting and covered in police tape, obviously ignored. Zexion swatted away the tattered plastic strips and entered the structure. Inside, the smell of sweat and cigarettes overwhelmed him and made him gag. Red whimpered. Zexion recalled how well Red could smell, and then thought of the rest of the guns and knives awaiting them. He met eyes with Red.
"You've been through enough. Be a good boy. Stay."
Red snorted, and stalked on, scouting ahead. Zexion didn't bother arguing and followed. They made their way through the empty concrete rooms, until the sound of human voices reached their ears. They waited by the door, listening intently. After a few moments, they heard several deep voices. There seemed to be dozens of them. It was then that Zexion heard a woman's cry, then another. Anger began building in Zexion's chest, assisting his hunger for revenge. He held the gun up, and kicked the door in.
Time stopped when the old piece of splinters hit the cement. Everyone turned to look at the boy in the doorway. Zexion kept his stance, his eyes darting about the room.
Beaten up, stained and bleeding furniture decorated the room. A few couches surrounded a scratched oak table, covered in playing cards and an assortment of alcohol. Smoke streamed up out of everyone's mouths, including the half-naked girls chained up in the far corner. In the middle of the women was him.
He wore the same outfit as every other guy: tank, baggy jeans, dusty sneakers, bandana wrapped around the head, ink swirled around limbs in their own unique way. All of them had a blue meteor tattooed onto their right shoulder, but this man had it over his bare chest. He had a once beautiful face, white scars now visible on his nose and mouth. From afar, it appeared as if he only had half of each ear.
Zexion aimed for specifically him. No one moved, though everyone had a revolver handy in their belt loop. He spoke.
"Sephiroth."
The man blinked. He broke the tension in the room, with an unspoken command, "What?"
He doesn't recognize me. Zexion let his arm drop to his side, still holding the gun, and used the other to draw back his hair. The gang members gasped and the girls jumped. Sephiroth stopped stroking the blonde girl's face. He literally smacked her aside. She landed in a heap with the other two. The blonde was crying, the brunette was trying her best to comfort her, leaning into her but not able to hold her in her bound arms, and the ash-haired one lay stonily at the bottom.
"Oh, it's you." Sephiroth said, getting to his feet and standing in the clearing in the middle of the room.
Zexion set down his hand, the damage now in plain sight. He hushed Red when he started growling. Dead silence filled the room. The men awaited their leader for command, and more so wanted to figure out who this bastard was and why the hell Boss hadn't killed him already.
Zexion's white-hot rage boiled underneath his steady tone, "You don't remember my name."
Sephiroth stopped, and threw his head back and laughed. The hauntingly familiar, gruff voice from Zexion's dreams hissed, "I don't remember any of their names."
"Mine starts with Z. It will end with your blood all over it."
The man with long silver hair smirked. He idly lifted his hand in the air and snapped his fingers. Instantaneously, every man pulled out their weapons and took aim. They used every round. Thousands of bullets came flying. Red yelped, dashing out the room just before he could get hit. The crow had remained with Zexion, a reassuring presence, "you're okay."
Zexion could feel the holes in his body all over. He could feel, see, smell, hear the red flowing out of his skin. The blasts pushed him; he managed by pure will to stay standing and unmoving. He resisted the gunfire, holding on to his own gun so hard his knuckles lost color. In a matter of minutes, everyone was out of ammunition. The gang dropped their shooters in awe. They made strangled gasps, backing away slowly.
Within seconds, the holes had closed. Most of the bullets lay at Zexion's feet, making little clinking sounds as they struck the pavement. Zexion paused, then turned his head and spit out the rest like big watermelon seeds. He let out a soft chuckle, then suddenly got serious, brought up his gun, shouted "RED!" and fired.
Six men consecutively lost use of their dominant hands. The rest suffered the real thrash. Zexion used the butt of his gun like a club and dented countless skulls. He used his bare hands to snap arms and break off fingers. Red covered ground in leaps, ripping hunks of meat off human bones. The friendly companion turned feral and licked his lips, tasting the bitter-sweet crimson drink. He felled them all, roaring like some uncharted animal scientists wouldn't dare touch.
Soon, there was only one man left.
Sephiroth, like his son, was splattered in the blood of his comrades. They couldn't deny the wails of pain, or the new scarlet carpet. Behind Sephiroth, the girls were tugging at their chains and crying. He stood there with his hands in his pockets, a sheen of sweat on his skin. Zexion smiled. Very slowly, the boy approached him, Red at his side. He tossed the gun away. Sephiroth jumped when it struck the floor. Zexion looked up into his old man's eyes. They were less than a yard away from each other.
Zexion spoke, "You have a gun."
The man handed it to him. Zexion smiled, bringing the gun to the side of his head, right above the ear. Making sure his father was watching, Zexion shot himself in the head until the gun made a clicking sound. It was discarded the same way. Wickedly, the boy smirked. Sephiroth's face was twisted in pure horror, speckled with his son's blood. Zexion, still holding his grin, reached up and ran his fingers along Sephiroth's cheek, smearing the droplets into streaks. He took a step closer, and whispered into Sephiroth's ear.
"Sweet dreams, Father."
And he slammed his fist past Sephiroth's ribcage, and tore out his still-beating heart.
Thud.
Stepping over the body, Zexion neared the girls now screeching their fear. They scrambled to get away, curling in on themselves and shouting for anyone to help them. Zexion ignored them and snapped the chains. The girls braced themselves, but all he did was get to his feet and return to Sephiroth's side. He looked down at the man, his chest light and airy. Then, the bird on his shoulder that he'd almost forgotten about, jumped and landed on Sephiroth. Its talons raked the right side of his face, marring it forever. It was then that bright light radiated from Zexion's chest. He regarded it with hooded eyes. A sad smile was on his lips.
"Th-thank you." the blonde spoke up, her voice scratchy, "You saved us."
Zexion didn't look up, "What are your names?"
"I'm Rikku. This is my sister Paine and my cousin Yuna. We've been down here since we were little kids… Who are you?"
"Zexion Strife. I need a favor."
The ash-haired one nodded, "Anything."
"See this dog?" Zexion rubbed Red's ears, "Make sure he gets home. His name's Red. The address is on his tag."
"Can't you take him home?" the brunette asked.
"I can't." he got on his knees, holding out his hands to the dog. He came, ears back and whining. Zexion wrapped his arms around the dog's neck and squeezed, "You are such a good dog. Good boy, Red, you're a good good boy…" He kissed Red between the ears, just where he liked it. Red yipped a protest, kissing Zexion on the cheek, but backed off and joined the girls in the corner. He sat obediently and watched Zexion fade away. The light took over the boy, consuming him in a brightness that forced everyone to shut their eyes. Zexion cried as it took him, spreading out his arms and lifting him from the earth. When he opened his eyes, a pair of green eyes stared back at him. More tears joined the others. Zexion never knew he could be so happy, or that he could see someone so happy. She held out her arms to him.
"Mommy!"
