MMM. I love writing these fics! Keep those reviews coming to inspire me to write more…slightly disturbing content in this chapter. I said slightly, by my teenage standards. That means using words like "blood" and "scream". So read ahead!!
**
Setting: (just so u don't get confused) A garden in Asia, the day after Seifer killed Jeff and all those other bad guys. Or he thought he killed them. (hint. Major hint.)
Always taciturn and reluctant, she was, at the age of 47, regarded as something of a lone wolf, lacking almost all sense of unity with those around her. From a very young age, (having a tendency to restrain her emotions), she had always had difficulty in coping with frustration and rejection, sinking into bouts of depression over quite trivial matters. As the years slipped by, to avoid this completely, she gradually detached herself from the world around her, immersing herself instead in the world of art; the stroke of a sable brush on a sheet of smooth ivory paper, the bold crimson petals of a poppy. Driven by her ambition, and her inordinate talent, she would lock herself in her room day after day, the sunset shadows flickering across her window, the only witness to these sacred masterpieces.
Around her neck, (usually swathed in filmy scarves of every shade of blue imaginable), she always wore a slim silver ring threaded onto a slender chain. The ring itself was mostly hidden, far away in the folds and recesses of her neckline. It was an intricately carved charm, bearing the image of a strange, griffin-like creature, and an inscription below it: Eloqui. Every night she would sleep with one hand curled protectively around it, the cool weight reassuring against her willowy, yet wrinkled, artist's fingers, as she dreamed of things she would never remember.
Now, however, she stood in the deserted garden, the silvered blades of grass licking her feet in time to the swaying of the wind, listening to the faint strains of some streetside violinist. Her face was serene, tranquil; the face of someone who has not yet turned forty; her hair was magnificent, pure white, and recalled silvered clouds roosting upon mountain peaks. As the violin reached a poignant climax, a wave of emotion washed over her face, as a wave crashes over a rock in the sea. It receded just as quickly, but, as a wave leaves water in the hollows of the rock, tears stood in her eyes. She stood, with one hand loosely clasping the silver ring, listened, and remembered.
"Amma! Amma?"
The slim, bronzed maid ran out from the house, holding the battered cordless phone in her right hand. "Phone for you."
Amma took the receiver and retreated into a far corner of the garden, where she could neither be seen, nor heard.
"Jeff…what?I…yes. Of course. I'm with you all the way, of course. No, I don't need to fly out there. As long as you can find those diamonds."
A few moments passed. Amma's tranquil face never gave way. Suddenly, something the person on the other end of the line caught her attention, breaking her façade for a moment.
Her face grew hard.
"Then kill them."
**
"So…where's our first stop? We have to find them. But we have no clue as to where they, or their accomplices could be."
Seifer raked a hand through his blond hair as he peered inquisitively at a speck of dust on the dusty café table. They'd hired a car at this congested city, where nobody would be able to find a filmstar, let alone two "criminals". He moved his spoon around in his coffee moodily. "We have no clues".
"We do!!"
Quistis' muffled voice became clearer as she came up for air from the piece of paper she was poring over. Seifer leaned over and looked at it. "Looks ordinary enough to me."
"It's a scrap of paper from the packet the diamonds were in. Don't you SEE, Seif? The postmark. It was mailed from…"
"India." Seifer finished. "The accomplices are in India. That's where we have to go, don't you see?"
"We can't afford it…"
Seifer's eyes narrowed. "I'll do anything to get to that country. Whatever the cost."
**
Mark Townsend crouched behind a hot-dog stand in the crowded square. It was blazing hot, muggy and stifling. The gun in his pocket was cool and hard against his slick, sweaty skin. He curled a hand around it protectively, pulling his light coat tighter around him, belting it securely at the waist. He glanced again at the wrinkled picture in his pocket. He smiled slightly at the thought of the amount of money he would get for killing her. He'd always loved violence. He scanned the square again until his eyes landed on her open, innocent face. He smiled slightly, imagining the perfect blonde hair streaked with blood, the mouth open in a scream. He fingered the gun again, a Colt 45, lovingly. The girl was wearing khaki cutoffs, a short ruffled shirt that just exposed her bare midriff. The boy, they wanted to keep alive. He looked smarter than some dumb blonde.
This was going to be fun. Just wait until she left the table and then…
Bam.
**
"I'm going to the corner shop to exchange some of this money, Quisty. Could you go back and pick up the car?"
"Sure thing." Quisty watched his lean figure disappear into the milling crowds with a warm sensation in her heart. She turned to go, but even she was fazed by the crowds. It would take her forever to fight her way through this lot. But wait…
A small sidestreet, almost completely abandoned, led off from the back of the café. If she was correct, it would lead her right back to the rental place. It was worth a shot, and although it was dark and deserted, at least it provided some shade from the heat. Pushing her dark glasses higher on the bridge of her nose, she rose, smoothing down her shirt, and furtively slipped into the alley. As she walked down the narrow street, it seemed to get darker and darker, until the towering walls on either side of her completely hid the sun. She shivered slightly, suddenly wishing she'd brought a cardigan to wrap around her shoulders.
Thump, thump…
What was that? She whirled around, but she saw nothing. Shivering again, she quickened her step. Oh for those milling crowds, again…
So close…so near…
Quistis let out a strangled cry as a strong hand gripped her wrist and jerked her around. She found herself staring up into the face of a rough shaven, tanned man. His eyes held no emotion, no pity. One of his hands was holding her wrist with frightening strength, and the other…held a gun. Quistis treed to twist away, but the stranger jerked her closer to him and pulled her head back by her hair. She bit back a scream.
Seifer…Seifer…help me!
Her sapphire blue eyes looked up into his brown ones, wide with fear, shock, and horror. He slapped her once, twice, and the irises dilated and tears pooled in her eyes. "What do you want?"
"Your life?"
He wrapped a strong arm around her midriff, and she felt the cool metal of a gun against her waist. She trembled slightly, now unable to check the tears streaming down her face. "I don't have the diamonds. You're not going to get away with this! Seifer's going to…"
"Ah, Seifer. Your…" He bent down and kissed Quistis, hard, on the lips. She pulled away, repulsed, but he jabbed the gun harder into her ribcage. "I forgot to tell you. Seifer…is already dead."
Quistis blinked rapidly, and she stopped struggling. Her eyes became wide and vacant, and the colour drained from her cheeks. "You're bluffing," she squeaked, knowing that at any moment, she could burst out into hysterics.
"He is dead, sweetheart. And that's exactly what I've been hoping and praying for. I've been wanting your boyfriend dead for a long, long time. And now…" – he cracked his knuckles – "He's out there, somewhere, lifeless, just waiting for you to join him. He's fish food, Trepe."
"You're lying!"
"Might as well face it. I'm all you've got now."
"NO! NEVER! NEVER!"
Quistis clenched her teeth and swallowed hard. Her hands were sweaty, and her breath rasped in her throat. Drops of water streamed down her face, mingled with the tears.Her body finally felt heavy and weightless all at the same time, as if she could already feel her spirit escaping her body. This was it. Her life was over.
Laughing, the man grapped her by the hair and leaned in close, so close that his face was almost touching hers. "You've really disappointed us, Quistis", he said menacingly, his hot breath violating her pale face. "We thought we could trust you not to get involved in this. But all you ladies do is try to turn us in to the authorities…or try to shoot us." His voice broke into disturbingly unhinged giggles. "It's women like you who make us bad."
"It's women like me who know better than to get involved with disgusting trash like you," Quistis gasped, her neck cramping painfully. "I'd rather be dead."
Releasing his grip, the man took a step back. "Lucky girl," he said. "It looks like you're going to get your wish.
Quistis looked around, but there was nowhere to go.
"Good-bye, Seifer…" she whispered, her fingers pressing against the brick wall behind her. "I love you…forever." She felt her body let go, almost welcoming death. Anything to escape this endless hell of lies and deceit. She hoped it would be quick and painless. But at this point she was prepared t endure anything. Whatever it was, she wouldn't fight it. This web of criminals had already put her through enough torture. And now Seifer was dead…she had no energy left.
Tears streaming down her face, Quistis steadied her breathing and closed her eyes. Instantly, she recalled Seifer's gorgeous face, sparkling green eyes, the incomparable way he pressed his lips to hers. She felt his arms around her, comforting her, her reverie as she returned his embrace. Soon she'd be with him again…
She closed her eyes once more, trying to concentrate on Seifer's face rather than the fatal air swirling around her.
Mark raised the gun to chest height.
Waited for her inevitable scream of agony.
And shot.
**
Four streets away, Seifer Almasy waited in vain for Quistis at the car rental warehouse.
Waiting.
**
Hehe. Don't kill me yet, wait for the next chapter!
I'd really like some feedback on this, so please review!