Toys part 2

Written for the Panem Challenge on Caesar's Palace

Prompt - precious

A/N: I've seen some websites describe Kefka as a "psychopathic manchild", which made me think it would be fun to write something that explored that side of his character. Hopefully I've done a good job without making him too child-like. But this is Kefka we're talking about, and I'm pretty sure anything goes when you're dealing with an insane mage.

Kefka sat on the exam table in Cid's lab, his attention focused on the doll in his lap. It wasn't unusual for him to bring one of his dolls with him to the lab, using them as a distraction to take his mind off the pain and unpleasant side effects that came with his weekly infusions. And although he'd done this several times now, Dr. Cid still hadn't gotten used to the sight of a grown man wearing makeup and playing with dolls.

The mage giggled, tossing the doll in the air and catching it when it came down. This doll was precious to him. It was a gift given to him on his birthday, and it bore a startling resemblance to the girl who'd given it to him.

"Are you ready, Kefka?" the doctor asked, rolling up Kefka's sleeve and dabbing at his arm with a damp cottonball.

"Mm-hmm." Kefka nodded, humming to himself as he smoothed out the creases in the doll's dress.

The doctor inserted the needle under his skin, and within seconds Kefka started shaking, his eyes watering from the pain as magic flooded his body, setting his blood on fire with intense burning pain. The tremors started spreading down his arms, until his whole body was consumed with violent spasms. His sharp nails dug into the doll's body, a scream tore from his lungs, and stuffing flew in all directions as he ripped the doll in half.

At first he didn't realize what he'd done. His thoughts disconnected from the rest of his body, his vision blurring as a multitude of screaming voices echoed in his mind. And then he heard it, words piercing the endless noise that reverberated off the inside of his skull.

"Kefka, your doll..."

He opened his eyes and looked down at the torn bits of fabric and stuffing in his hands, staring blankly at it as he struggled to understand what had happened.

Dr. Cid gave him a curious look, unsure of how to respond to his odd behavior. The next thing he knew Kefka had thrown the doll across the room, its severed head hitting the vials on the counter and spilling them onto the floor.

Kefka launched into a full on temper tantrum, screaming and throwing anything within his reach. He set fire to anything that didn't break, not caring if they strapped him to the table for hours on end while they waited for him to calm down, or locked him in that padded room like they did the last time he threw a fit. All that mattered was that his doll was gone, his precious doll, the doll Terra had given him for his birthday last year.

"Kefka! Kefka, calm down! It's alright! It's just a doll! We'll get you another one, just please calm down!"

He was vaguely aware of the doctor's voice, trying to calm him down as someone seized him by the arm, and another needle drove itself into his flesh as he was forced down on the table. Within seconds his mind began shutting down, his body going limp as his eyes closed.

"That's it, Kekfa. You're alright. Just relax. Everything is going to be fine."

A low groan escaped his lips. He was falling into blackness, the world collapsing around him as his eyes rolled back in his head and he lost consciousness.

Kefka awoke several hours later, his vision blurred and his mind drifting in a haze of confusion. He blinked his eyes and moaned, turning his head and gazing about the room. It took him a moment to realize that he was in the specialized care unit designed for those who were taking part in the Magitek Knight program. He knew this place well, with its white walls and cold, sterile environment. He lifted his hand, only to feel the leather straps biting into his skin. Unable to speak, he cried out in anger and frustration, and was greeted with the doctor's voice, calmly reassuring him that everything was alright.

Why did everyone keep telling him that? Did he look like he was alright? Because he certainly didn't feel like it. His head ached, his hands were still shaking due to the side effects of the infusion, and he felt horribly nauseous. But oh yes, everything was just peachy keen.

"Kefka, can you hear me? Do you know where you are?"

"I'm in hell," the mage growled. "Where else would I be?"

"Now Kefka, if you promise to behave yourself, I'll remove the restraints and let you play with some of these toys."

The mage raised an eyebrow, the painted lines on his forehead raising with it. He looked down at the foot of the bed, and saw a variety of stuffed animals lined up along the footboard. His eyes fell on a purple dragon plushie, and Cid smiled.

"Do you like that one, Kefka? I know it's not the same as your doll, but you can have it if you want." He unbuckled the metal clasp that held the leather strap in place on Kefka's wrist, and when the mage showed no signs of becoming violent, he cautiously removed the remaining straps.

Kefka sat up slowly, rubbing his wrists to get the circulation flowing through his pale skin. He frowned when he saw that some of the makeup on his hands had come off, then reached for the doll that had been propped up against the railing on the bed.

"What happened in there?" asked Dr. Cid. He ducked as Kefka threw the doll at him. "Kefka."

"What?" he spat, looking back at the plush dragon at the foot of the bed. This dragon, which was nothing more than a sad attempt to replace his favorite doll, wouldn't last more than an hour once he decided to 'play' with it.

"Tell me what happened."

"I killed it," said Kefka. His explanation was plain and simple, and spoken without a hint of emotion. "The doll was mine to look after, and I killed it. I could feel the magic, starting at the base of my spine and burning all the way up to my brain, and when it hit it was like everything in my mind shattered and fell apart. I can't even begin to describe the amount of pain I feel when that happens."

"But I've seen you destroy your dolls before, Kefka. I know how much you like destroying them when you're in a bad mood. So why did it bother you so much to see this one torn to shreds?"

Kefka glared at him. "I'll have you know that I don't kill them just because I'm 'in a bad mood', as you put it. Sometimes I kill them because I feel like it. Because it's fun to kill things. But that doll, it was given to me on my birthday. Terra gave it to me. It was precious to me because it reminded me of her." He paused, gazing down at the clean, white sheets on his bed. "Perhaps I need to make myself a new toy, one that's a bit more durable and won't break as easily as the others."