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Speak No Evil, Hear No Evil, See No Evil

Chapter 8:It's Getting Closer and Closer, Closing In


There was a horrifying ripping, a crunch. Ormi's voice squalled in his ears.

"What did I do?!" Logos asked the dark chaos whirling around him following the disturbance, it did not answer him. It did not hear him. His chest heaved with growing panic, cleaving his heart in two.

Ormi had seen the danger looming over Logos and dove before him, shield whisked in front of them both to capture the dagger long teeth on the outer edges as the beast clamped down. Ormi was about to blare reassurances to his friend when a searing pain caught him in back. In latent realization, he understood that Logos, unseeing, had shot towards the fiend and he had been caught in the crossfire.

In another moment of flashing thought, he also realized that wherever he had been hit, it was bad. His shoulder crumpled and the beast, whipping its head with shield still clamped in its jaws, tore it from his arm with a disturbing crack of a broken bone. Ormi couldn't hear the scream that shredded his throat, but certainly felt it as it burst from his lungs. Then he had to release another hoarse cry as one of those sharp dagger teeth smashed down on his exposed arm, crushing and misshaping the shield over in is mouth like paper and smashing his hand somewhere between. A hideous grinding trembled up into his searing shoulder as teeth locked around his appendage.

A tremor in the beast's body foretold its next move. His feet dug into the slick stone, but with little luck. He was thrown into the shocking water, dragged by a captive arm, as the beast retreated with a violent jerk. Churning waves punched him in the face, clapping him in the ears and filling his lungs with a disorientating amount of water.

Bubbles swirled madly around in their dark descent to the bottom. Black liquid writhed in a stream from his arm, blinding him as his other hand clutched and tore at thick rough lips. There was an adjustment in those teeth, and another crunch was felt in ripple up his arm as it reverberated through the water. A surge of bubbles flared from his mouth as he screamed. The beast thrashed as Ormi spontaneously kicked out at it and hit it where it's eyes should have been. It must've been sensitive, so desperately the warrior kicked it again with more purpose, trying to wrench his arm free with little results.

The monster rolled, spinning Ormi through the water with surprising force by his arm. He then felt everything go suddenly light in his extremities and chest as the spiraling beast struck his wide trailing body into an underwater structure. He was yanked violently again, but his head and body was weightless as he was loosing control of his body's instinctive responses. Blood from his arm squirmed through the water, blotting his face, his blinking eyes struggling to see. Then two bright white eyes flashed from the tendrils of flailing blood, spreading like long hair through the water.

Ormi flinched, feeling long claws sink down into his chest from the mad woman in his dreams reaching out and grabbing a hold of him. His other hand whipped around and clutched at the thin arm, threatening to break it, but could not as nothing was in his crushing grip. He flung that hand back to the beast's mouth, trying to pry its strong jaws open, but his own incredible strength was nothing to its bite. It bit down harder, fighting to not loose its prize clamped between its grisly maw, and another jet of blood flooded his vision. He saw the eyes again, and the wretched hollow face. Stained teeth gnawing on nonsense phrases and reaching for him. One skeletal hand buried itself through cloth and flesh, burrowing furiously at the meat and fat of his chest, scraping his ribs and sternum. He screamed again, angry froth exploding from his mouth, repeatedly chomping the airless water as he brought his failing hand to desperately swipe at the digging claws. He felt that hand sink in, finding something soft and throbbing and clench it in an unrelenting grip.

"Ormi!"

He was being gently patted in the face. He couldn't hear the cry that was issued from Rikku, but he felt the insistent hands petting his wet face as he was coming back around. Was it all a dream? He moved and a sharp bark tore out his throat, deaf to his ears. He was coughing, a slough of water rupturing from his mouth in his convulsions and splashing on his already wet chest. Rikku took her hand away, giving him space to work out all that he had accidentally swallowed.

As he recovered, feeling wrung out, he noticed the unique burning smell of Phoenix Down cloying the air. Sensations returned, bit by bit. Pain was the most pressing, but that didn't stop the rest of the uncomfortable inconveniences from raising their concerns either. His shoulder was burning hot against the freezing stone he was half laid over, which dug into his lower back. His lips trembled around the shivers working its way through his mass, his legs still weightless and icy in the water. There was a fear tingling throughout him, the memory of the woman reaching for him, touching him, finding something-

A firm hand pressed into his forehead, and his bleary eyes focused.

"Boss." He whined quietly, wincing. His eyes left the comforting face to roam over the pains that shouted for attention. His arm laid outstretched beside him, twisted and a white shard of bone jutting out of the purple sleeve. A maroon stain was seeping into the threads, past a meaty chunk hung by a slip of flesh, pinned more or less by his dented gauntlet. The sight of the gore made him lurch a little on rising bile. His other hand clutched at his chest, surprised to find it whole. His fingers worked at the material there, a sort of hyperventilation overtaking him as he tried to sit up.

Leblanc pushed him down again, keeping a hand at his uninjured shoulder to still him. She looked over his body, and Ormi adjusted his head against the stone to find Logos falling onto his knees, groping the ground and trying to urgently find his way to him. Paine, noticing his plight, placed a hand on his dark clothed shoulder and directed him, whispering, "He's going to be alright."

"Ormi, I didn't- I'm sorry-" Logos gasped, finding the top of his head with his long fingers and blinding fluttering gentle touches across the line where his helmet rested against his face. Ormi reached out and grabbed his wrist, giving it a stiff squeeze. Logos's hand shifted, finding Ormi's palm and clutching back. "I didn't know you were there-!"

Ormi couldn't hear any of it. Still, he was deaf. But he was aware of a clamoring in his head, buzzing, but that just might have been pain. He blinked, seeing a pale woman far off in the distance. His lids fell again and opened, she was closer. The two Gullwing girls, Paine and Rikku, were mouthing something slowly but he didn't decipher, distracted by the woman hovering over their shoulders. He blinked again, his own breathing rasping loudly in his skull suddenly.

Thud thud thud. His heart was railing against his ribs, upon opening his eyes with drunken slowness, she was near, peering over the girls' shoulders at him. Her inky mouth parted slightly to grimace a slip of narrow teeth. He shook his head, and the two girls looked at each other in concern, before mouthing more soundless words at him.

"No." He blinked, his dry eyes stinging. She was now in front of them, leaning over him with cracked lips snarling, black hair snaking down into her face, one eye wide and staring.

SNAP! He wailed, feeling the bone that punctured his flesh shift. The Former High Summoner was trying to put it back in place, but at the sudden movement of the muscle, he sprang back into life and nearly clocked her in the mouth. He would have felt terrible if he landed a blow to the soft face, but luckily she was fast enough and reeled back to keep from getting her surprised expression smashed. His swinging arm, meeting air, fell back at his side with a loud smack. He stayed as he was, turned onto his aching ribs, huffing as an injured animal would. His eyes wandered back, a bit delirious with pain, he noticed that the woman had disappeared again.

"We'll set it properly on the ship." Yuna told Leblanc levelly, wrapping it as best as she could with their limited supplies. Ormi's dented gauntlet had been carefully pried back, the skin underneath wretched to look at and in need of some immediate potion at the very least. She had placed the fold of flesh back and wrapped it down with the bone. That was as far as her knowledge took her, and she knew it would need much more attention. "Do you know a doctor?"

Leblanc nodded, watching Ormi's chest rattle and his lip quiver around violent shaking. His face pale and drawn, blue coloring his mouth and under his eyes, which would droop before flashing wide in terror.

She reached out and pressed into his forehead again with a steady hand, warming the clammy flesh under her palm. He reached another moment of clarity, and after snorting on some pained breaths, closed his eyes to rest for a bit.

"This should help." Rikku had rooted through the pouch at her belt and produced a Hi-potion. The shimmering blue was thrown over Ormi's wound, and it seemed to ease some of the distress he was in, but only marginally. It stabilized him enough however, for them to try and coax him to his feet, he far too heavy to carry out of there even if they called in Buddy and Brother's help back on the ship. Logos was invaluable in this, having a bit more upper body strength than the Gullwings, and of course Leblanc as well, who had proven her herculean strength that one occasion when they slipped off a ledge trying to investigate a chest. However, when the warrior was back on his feet, he needed support. And Paine once again had to reason with the Syndicate gunner why he couldn't lead his friend out.

"Just- just tell me where to put my feet. I can at least be a crutch." He practically begged, but sense would win out. He couldn't see and there were far too many pitfalls to risk it. Yuna and Rikku both assisted, Leblanc switching out when one grew tired, while Paine led the helpless gunner out by his long sleeve.


Ormi would wake up fitfully, just as he was beginning to fall asleep. A snort and a great flinching flinging him back just as his head would dip back into the pillow heavily. The dull bags under his eyes became darker, and Leblanc gnawed at her lip watching him struggle.

"One, two, three, four, five," She heard Logos's voice trail upwards from where she stood in the loft of the ship, the Gullwings happily providing Ormi one of their own beds to rest in until they arrived in Guadosalam. She pulled herself from the warrior's bedside to investigate, glancing over the railing and down to the bar and lounge below.

"One, two, three, four-ow!" Logos bumped into the bar, his hands landing on the edge of the counter with a hiss. "Four, four steps to the bar." He turned and counted again as he walked towards the door, purposefully placing his feet about the same distance apart. His hands trailed over objects around him, touching feather-lite and noting them aloud. Leblanc's hand curled into the railing as she continued to watch him fumble a little more gracefully about his surroundings. He was determined, finding a way to cope.

Because he had hurt Ormi.

I'm sorry. Logos kept saying, but Ormi couldn't hear him, although Leblanc hoped he understood. Ormi accepted every companionable grasp towards his hand, took every pat to his shoulder, and nodded as Logos blindly covered him in blankets and stole more pillows from surrounding beds. Then he hovered, nervously, before Ormi uncharacteristically snapped at him to go away.

Logos could barely abide his mistakes on the best of days, and this had to be one of the worst. Leblanc noticed the way he clutched the air, squeezing his hands into fists and releasing them with stiff fingers. Then he had left.

He hadn't touched his revolvers since, leaving them unattended at one of the bar stools. Instead, he counted, navigating his world by numbers and strides. Ormi was not going to be there to guide him, and he couldn't count on Leblanc all the time. He was trying to make a new method of moving on his own.

Leblanc whinged a little, turning back to the softly moaning warrior. They couldn't count on Ormi for quite sometime. He was hurt very badly, Logos's misfired bullet landing somewhere deep in his shoulder blade and lodging inside. It would need a doctor, as well as his arm. He was in no mind to help his friends, and they both knew it.

The gunner must have been mulling that over too, Leblanc realized, as she heard him make his way, counting carefully, up the steps towards her. Ormi had just fallen asleep, although his face looked more twisted than when he had been awake.

He approached her slowly, his face sheepish. He kept a guiding hand on the banister, counting under his breath as he mentally traced the steps to Ormi's bed. He stopped when his hand brushed Leblanc's. She made no move to pull it away as she looked up at her gunner, who spoke to her in a low voice.

"I've been thinking," he said, turning his head in the general direction of the warrior's low groans of pain, "that we've got a bit of a problem on our hands. With Ormi down for the count, we don't exactly have a proper method of communication."

Leblanc shot him a look as if to say Gee, ya think? Logos continued, oblivious to the expression.

"So this is what I propose. I'm going to try to keep my side of the conversation to yes-or-no questions. You tap once for no," he demonstrated by giving her hand a single pat with his gloved fingers, "and twice for yes." Again, he showed her before sliding his hand away from hers on the banister. "Does that sound good?"

Leblanc's eyes drifted from Logos' face as she pondered the proposal. As much nuance as it would leave out, it seemed like a decent starting point. The rudimentary language would have to suffice until they lifted this curse. Or they died.

Whichever came first.

She reached across the banister, giving the top of his hand two gentle taps.

Logos nodded, a smile hiding behind his usually stern expression. "Good," he affirmed, his anxieties put to rest, at least for now. He was at a disadvantage but by Yevon he wouldn't let this stupid curse stop him. He was finally beginning to gain control over the situation. It was nothing terribly impressive, but it would do. He turned to leave when he found himself stopped by a smaller hand still grasping his. He turned his unseeing eyes downwards before his brows dipped in confusion. A tap, then a squeeze, as Leblanc tried to put the concern evident on her face into some sort of language he could understand.

He seemed to, as he returned the squeeze with a solid one of his own. "I'm fine," he answered. "I'm just ready for all of this to be over." Two taps, and then his hand was released.


Ormi hadn't meant to yell at Logos, who was obviously upset that he had accidentally shot him, but a feeling was rising up whenever the gunner drew near, blistering and violent. Ormi ignored it, reminding himself it was an accident. His friend couldn't see.

Then, he shouldn't have tried to fire.

He should have trusted you to protect him.

Ormi snuffled and screwed his eyes tighter against the pressure behind his face. Mounting tension pulled his face flush against his skull, his brain throbbing irritably. His brow was sweating and he could feel the shivers start up again. When his eyes flashed open he saw the boss's back, standing at the railing looking down. His heart lurched as he thought he saw a flash of glowing white, but when he blinked it was gone.

Or he thought he blinked, but that had to be wrong because there was Logos making little motions with his hands towards the Boss, she grabbing his hands so he could feel the ones she made in his palms. Ormi felt his face heat up again, and the beads of sweat dripped down in his prickling eyes. He blinked, to relieve them, and when he could see again there was white between the Boss and Logos. He wheezed on a breath, and as they turned to look at him she was gone.

"Ormi?" Logos mouthed at him.

Don't trust him!

Logos was looking concerned, brows knitted upwards and he was leaning over him. Ormi's mouth crackled over dry sounds, so Logos excused himself to fetch him water. Ormi wanted to tell him he didn't want water, he wanted to go back to the second he jumped in front of him and let that thing take a bite out of him.

Whoa. Where had that come from? He was glad he didn't say it. Ormi shook his head and lifted a hand to press into his tired eyes. What was wrong with him? It felt like someone else's thoughts were ripping into his head, and he fought the foreign intrusion with feverish arguments. He dropped his head into the stack of pillows his blind friend acquired for him and felt the pull on his lips as they were dragged down.

He blinked, his head was nodding. Maybe he was acting all cranky because he needed a nap? He wondered and then he laughed, a little. It would be just like him to act like a big old baby. Some blood loss and a bad night's worth of sleep ought not to make him so impersonal, but it figured. He was having a rough day after all.

Logos didn't do anything wrong, he was just rubbing him the wrong way cause he needed sleep he reminded himself for emphasis. His eyes felt like sandpaper when he winked his eyes, one at a time. Then he let his eyelids fall.

There she was.

Kill them.

Ormi jerked awake, not knowing how long he had drifted off. Apparently, hardly any time at all, because there was Logos with a glass of water.

"Would prefer whiskey..." Ormi said, and felt a bit of relief as Logos laughed, soundless in his eyes but still there. He even articulated slowly, rounding out his sounds with his lips to show him what he said.

"As would I."

The warrior sat up in bed, achingly and unsteady. Leblanc set up some pillows behind him so he could sit up, the weight in his shoulder shooting pains down his back. "Sorry guys." He mumbled and took the glass from the gunner, thick digits prodding past long ones and grasping the condensation-slick glass. When his big hands shook, Leblanc swept in to hold it steady and tip it towards his mouth for him. It was bitingly cold, crisp and refreshing. This woke him up a bit and he puffed out a sigh. He had great friends thank you very much.

Kill them.


A/N: A short chapter but I'm just posting these now while I have the momentum. Is this a bad idea? (since not having them written ahead of time is why they aren't posted in the first place?) Perhaps! But I'm excited to share again, what else can I say? I have heaps of unfinished documents, hopefully we can get some of them done and send them on so I can be free of them!

Also I switched the genre to horror because as you can see by this chapter...well, it's going there. Spooky scary.

Also howdy, hope you are all doing good.