A crash in the jungle behind him made him turn around, and Zell jumped as he saw the apparition coming through the metal doors that blocked off the Training Center from the entrance area. Baleful yellow eyes were fixed on him, and each step the bull took impressed a lasting hoofprint into the ground. It didn't look happy.

Zell backed away, rubbing his injured arm. He had been on the way to the Infirmary--having a GF bearing down on him looking for revenge wasn't something he had anticipated when he had neglected to use up that last Curaga. The bull stopped a few paces in front of him, blinking slowly.

Tetra disaster!

"Whoa!" Zell jumped, turning and sprinting out of the door rather than staying to take a stand. The bull aborted its attack and thundered after him, overtaking him in the hall and using its bulk to block the short way to the Infirmary. Passing students and Faculty gaped--Zell just skidded to a halt and thought Crap.

You're next.

Zell turned on his heel and ran, and everyone in the hall got out of his way. Whether that was because he was obviously not going to stop or because the massive GF behind him wasn't going to either wasn't apparent.

Tetra disaster!

Zell dove down a spur hallway as the elemental attack swept through the air behind him, and scrambled the rest of the way down the hallway. Thunder followed him.

Ramming into a person as he rounded the corner into the dormitory halls, he sent both of them tumbling to the ground. Blinking, he latched onto the person's shirt front immediately.

"Squall!" he hissed. "You've gotta help me! There's this crazy GF thing following me--"

Squall blinked at him, disengaging his hands and standing up. "What?" he asked.

"There's a GF trying to kill me!" Zell screamed. "It chased me from the Training Center, and it's coming after me!"

Squall looked down the hall. He moved over, and looked down toward the main Garden hallway ring. He turned to look at Zell again. He didn't say a word.

"I'm not kidding!" Zell insisted. "You have to help me! Tell someone! Get the Faculty!"

"Uh, Zell?" Squall's voice was so full of irony it was a wonder he managed to fit any words in beside it. "If I get the faculty, I'm going to tell them you went wacky."

Zell blinked. "Arrgh!" He leapt to his feet, shaking his fist. "If I get killed by that thing, it's going to be all your fault!"

Squall turned away and started heading back to his dorm. Zell fumed for a moment.

You're next.

Without a second thought, he resumed his mad dash down the hall to his room, where he locked the door and quietly dived under the bed.

~


A shadowy figure crept through the dark alleyway, coming up on the house he was sure he wanted. In one hand was gripped a knife; in the other, he held a clipping from the newspaper obituaries. He had selected it carefully, cut it out lovingly. It had to be exactly the right one, and he had been lucky to find one with accurate information so easily. It read

Jaimes Nokhan
Died 2/23 in sleep, alone
No survivors
No memorial scheduled

Stopping next to the door he wanted, the man quietly pulled a fine-tip pen and a small bottle of white editing paint out of his pocket. Within a few moments, he had edited it to his satisfaction. Leaning back, he looked at the work critically.

Seifer Almasy
Died here in sleep, alone
No survivors
No memorial

Blowing on it gently to dry it, he shifted the grip of the knife in his hand. Moving to the door, he deftly cut the soft metal of the latch in two with the strong blade, and pushed the door open. The hinges were well-kept, and they didn't creak. With the stealth of a cat, he moved into the main room.

A piece of paper caught his eye, lying open on an otherwise bare table. Moving over to it, he placed the edited obituary next to it and picked it up.

Fuj, Raij--
Went to Galbadia. Have to figure some stuff out. Sorry for the late notice. See you in about a three days, if I don't go to Dollet first.
--Seifer

His eyes narrowing, the man slammed the blade into the table point-first. A low growl escaped from his throat, and he stared around the room. The little weasel--he had gotten away! And after so much work put into him, too--

Pulling out the pen and paint, he made a quick adjustment to the obituary. Pinning it and the departure letter to the table with the blade, he snuck quietly out of the room.

When Fujin came in at midnight, she found the letter from Seifer, a knife, and a tiny scrap of newpaper. Picking up the news, she read it critically.

Seifer Almasy will
Die here in sleep, alone
No survivors
No memorial needed