Grim Realities
Prologue
Final Fantasy VII and all related items mentioned therein are property of Square Entertainment.
***
Not all stories are faerie tales. Not all stories involve a beautiful princess in peril, waiting for her handsome prince to whisk her away into a bliss, happy life. Not all stories are painfree, and they don't have morals. Innocence isn't forever.
The slums were never a happy place. Especially after the Meteor incident. Many people expected the mass destruction and death in Midgar to drive people away, and to let the city remain in ruins.
Those who left had no other home to go to. So they returned to the debris. Like rats, they gathered together, huddling together for the scarce warmth, food, and shelter. Large outcroppings of metal hung over portions of the city. It was wise not to go digging through the piles of waste; a corpse was likely to be found.
Tifa Lockheart stood outside of the destroyed city, like she had been for the past five minutes. Her wine colored eyes were narrowed, the windows to her soul almost like gleaming rubies in the darkness. Gloved hands clenched and released, clenched and released. So now I'm here, the twenty five year old thought to herself bitterly. But why am I here? Tifa had wasted four days on the road from Kalm to return to Midgar.
She swallowed the heavy lump in her throat, her weary eyes threatening to tear up. I didn't cry before. I won't cry now. I don't even know why I'm here. The eerie wind whistled a high tune, rustling her hair, which now tumbled loosely down her back. Maybe... Tifa stole one last glance at the city which reeked of death. And she turned on her heel and began the walk back to Kalm.
***
Chaos tore at the streets of the once-peaceful Kalm. It was now much like every other city left on the Planet: wrecked with drug-dealers, murderers, and gang leaders. Some fit all three of those criteria. Decent people were too afraid to let their children outside, afraid of what could happen to them in their own front yard. Only the very brave, very strong, or very stupid exited the safety behind the four walls of a home.
Tifa walked in the raging city, the gleaming sun barely peering over the horizon. Even it seemed wary of the dying towns. Normally, the young woman would have gratefully soaked in the life giving rays. But in this time, nothing was normal. Not anymore.
She gritted her teeth as she entered the vicinity, instinctively pulling her gloves up and running her fingers over each materia embedded into the slots. Shadows from the ill-respected buildings rustled, glints of silver flashing in the echoing silhouettes.
A sneer found its way onto Tifa's face. Better not mess with me, honey, 'cuz I'll kill you without thinking twice
***
She rudely shoved the door open to her bar, Kalm's Havoc, and stepped inside of the small building. Eyes that seemed to beg for sleep roamed around the wooded interior. Tables and chairs were littered around, some of them upturned or broken. The usual look of the place, Tifa thought with a sardonic smirk. Can't forget the normal drunk.
A brown haired man that looked about thirty was curled up on the dusty floor, his back resting on the left wall. A snore issued from him every ten seconds or so.
Tifa walked over to him, brown boots clicking on the hardwood floor. She peered down at the sleeper, looking almost bemused. The young woman kicked roughly him in the ribs. "Hey, Charlie. Don't you know I closed this place a week ago? Took a vacation."
A bloodshot, brown eye opened, dirty brown hair sprawled on the floor. "Got no-where else to go," he wheezed, "Not since the Virus."
The Virus. The disease that swept the world, the plague that killed or maimed most of the populas. The one that orphaned children. The one that destroyed families.
A flicker of pity passed over Tifa's face, and her heart almost wrenched. The expression immediatly hardened. "You've been living somewhere else, haven't you? You can get out now." The harsh words stung the bar hostess' own heart. "I can't have you living here and dirtying up the place." She turned her back to the man, Charlie, who was now reduced to almost sobbing on the floor.
"Get out." And with that, Tifa went into the back room, the all-too-familar dull ache in her chest beginning to throb again.
