Well here it is, the ninth chapter! There is some gore, and
disturbingness. I do not own ffviii by the by, Squaresoft does, and I give
credit to The Sneaker Pimps for the song featured: The Fuel. R/r and thanks
in advance
Chapter 9: The Wolf Always Wins
Seifer obeyed her request and drowsily made his way upstairs to his still lit room. His mind was weary, but his body seemed to be reacting to the lack of medicine; Seifer's whole body was trembling, and yet it felt as if he were in a furnace. Sweat beaded at his forehead as he removed his shirt and collapsed onto the bed. Looking at the ceiling he felt a pain from within, something he had felt before, but was not his illness. Placing the feeling was the hard part in the situation. He began to fidget on his bead, trying to shake the pain and dizziness consuming him. The pain kept growing inside him, making his heart race and echo in his ears deafeningly. A little voice from inside his head spoke, a voice which was not his own.
"You know what you want, you want to taste blood, to hear screams, to smell the flesh as you tear it away.Take it," the voice was the one in his dreams, the one belonging to her. He did not answer her, for he was battling with the pain, and with himself. He wanted it, all of what she said; clutching the sheets he let out a quite cry of pain and frustration.
I've got the fuel in my head from the flesh I need to break sweat, I've got the feeling I might get offence if I might be some threat, Want back doors, want blood on the sheets again, Give me back doors, give me blood on sheets again
The sun was setting and he could feel a monster arising from the depths of his soul. Seifer clutched the sides of his head, trying to calm the noise of his ever faster beating of his heart. There was laughter once more, but not her laughter; the laughter he heard was his own. It rang deep into his mind, mixing with the pounding and his hard breathing. There was no end to it.
"Make it stop," he whispered as he shut his eyes tightly. Seifer's nails dug into his skin, but it went unnoticed. He yearned for the hunt, he hungered for the power of his blade. He wanted to destroy.
I feel the fuel like a fun cutting deep, I want to see you cheap, Like a rose on a bed without scent I need my self-respect, For shames sake by any other name, When the seeds take it grows like weeds and spreads like flames
It was getting worse, the fight was getting horribly violent within himself. His fingertips tingled with the anxious excitement for the lost feeling of a weapon to grip. The two voices in his head were urging him on, telling him to give in, weakening him, taking him over. His own voice, the one laughing, the one which was him, but wasn't, was winning.
"You'll lose this battle," he heard himself say coldly, "Just let me do what I know you want to do.Be a spectator once more, you do not deserve me, you the warrior, you the knight. I am the warrior, I am the knight, and you will lose."
He was broken and gave into the need for bloodshed. Instantaneously, he withdrawled into the shadows, to rest, for he needed rest.Now he was watching.
I've got the fuel but the fuel got me burning me up when it fires again, fires again I've got the fuel but the fuel got me Bringing me off when it cools again, cools again, cools again, cools again
It was like seeing through the eyes of a wolf, as if life was a rapid group of moments, never ending, but all fluent and eternal. The sun had been fading over the horizon for a half hour, and the first stars of the night were appearing. Seifer had the Hyperion in his hand, and managed to creep out the door without Quistis knowing. Children were being called inside for dinner by their parents. Seifer swiftly ran into the woods and leaned his sword against a tree, and headed back. One little girl remained, picking up after herself rather maturely. Seifer said something to her, something he could not understand from his shadowed place. She smiled and followed him into the nearby wooded area where she turned her back to him and looked around. By this time Seifer had found his blade and was getting ready to strike.
He knew what was going to happen, the little girl would die, and he would be the cause. Seifer could not control himself though; he was being controlled by some forgotten or neglected part of himself. The little girl turned and saw her fate, but decided to run from the unstoppable wolf. He could hear himself laugh and walk after the girl in long strides, the Hyperion scrapping against the ground. Every few steps the girl would look behind her, only to see Seifer two steps ways without even trying. He could see the tears streaming down her little face, and he knew that he would end it now.
Taking one giant leap, he close lined her from the back, making her fall face forward. A smile played on his lips, as he stood with his back facing her. He could hear her rustle on the ground, trying to crawl away, but escape was futile. Seifer approached her quickly as she tried to get up, and grabbed her dirty blond hair. Forcefully he threw her back down onto the ground. She cried and cried, and he knew that he loved it. In the shadows he watched the whole thing, ever last detail flashed past him. Striking the girl across the face, standing her up by her hair and slamming her into a tree, where she slumped down too weak and broken to do anything now. In one swift attempt he grabbed her little arm and snapped it savagely. She screamed in pain as her opposite hand automatically went to clutch the broken limb, which was a definite mistake. He grabbed that arm and broke it also, rendering her absolutely helpless; there would be no scratching, no clawing at his skin in this murder.
It was time to get the deed done, and that is where his saber came into play. Some had said, in the future, that the Hyperion was indestructible, and able to cut through anything, he decided it was time to test this theory. It would be a quick death, but a brutal killing. He pointed his sword at the girl's forehead and put all of his weight on it. Suddenly the crying stopped and silence filled the crisp air as he withdrew the blade from her. Slowly he bent down, looking into the girls blank, bloodshot eyes.
"The innocent are the hardest to kill, for they do not give me the satisfaction of a fight," this time the he could hear the voice, for he was speaking too.
I've got the fuel but the fuel got me burning me up when it fires again, fires again I've got the fuel but the fuel got me Bringing me off when it cools again, cools again, cools again, cools again.
Well, r/r!! I hope you liked it, and if you were disturbed by this story...Good.
Chapter 9: The Wolf Always Wins
Seifer obeyed her request and drowsily made his way upstairs to his still lit room. His mind was weary, but his body seemed to be reacting to the lack of medicine; Seifer's whole body was trembling, and yet it felt as if he were in a furnace. Sweat beaded at his forehead as he removed his shirt and collapsed onto the bed. Looking at the ceiling he felt a pain from within, something he had felt before, but was not his illness. Placing the feeling was the hard part in the situation. He began to fidget on his bead, trying to shake the pain and dizziness consuming him. The pain kept growing inside him, making his heart race and echo in his ears deafeningly. A little voice from inside his head spoke, a voice which was not his own.
"You know what you want, you want to taste blood, to hear screams, to smell the flesh as you tear it away.Take it," the voice was the one in his dreams, the one belonging to her. He did not answer her, for he was battling with the pain, and with himself. He wanted it, all of what she said; clutching the sheets he let out a quite cry of pain and frustration.
I've got the fuel in my head from the flesh I need to break sweat, I've got the feeling I might get offence if I might be some threat, Want back doors, want blood on the sheets again, Give me back doors, give me blood on sheets again
The sun was setting and he could feel a monster arising from the depths of his soul. Seifer clutched the sides of his head, trying to calm the noise of his ever faster beating of his heart. There was laughter once more, but not her laughter; the laughter he heard was his own. It rang deep into his mind, mixing with the pounding and his hard breathing. There was no end to it.
"Make it stop," he whispered as he shut his eyes tightly. Seifer's nails dug into his skin, but it went unnoticed. He yearned for the hunt, he hungered for the power of his blade. He wanted to destroy.
I feel the fuel like a fun cutting deep, I want to see you cheap, Like a rose on a bed without scent I need my self-respect, For shames sake by any other name, When the seeds take it grows like weeds and spreads like flames
It was getting worse, the fight was getting horribly violent within himself. His fingertips tingled with the anxious excitement for the lost feeling of a weapon to grip. The two voices in his head were urging him on, telling him to give in, weakening him, taking him over. His own voice, the one laughing, the one which was him, but wasn't, was winning.
"You'll lose this battle," he heard himself say coldly, "Just let me do what I know you want to do.Be a spectator once more, you do not deserve me, you the warrior, you the knight. I am the warrior, I am the knight, and you will lose."
He was broken and gave into the need for bloodshed. Instantaneously, he withdrawled into the shadows, to rest, for he needed rest.Now he was watching.
I've got the fuel but the fuel got me burning me up when it fires again, fires again I've got the fuel but the fuel got me Bringing me off when it cools again, cools again, cools again, cools again
It was like seeing through the eyes of a wolf, as if life was a rapid group of moments, never ending, but all fluent and eternal. The sun had been fading over the horizon for a half hour, and the first stars of the night were appearing. Seifer had the Hyperion in his hand, and managed to creep out the door without Quistis knowing. Children were being called inside for dinner by their parents. Seifer swiftly ran into the woods and leaned his sword against a tree, and headed back. One little girl remained, picking up after herself rather maturely. Seifer said something to her, something he could not understand from his shadowed place. She smiled and followed him into the nearby wooded area where she turned her back to him and looked around. By this time Seifer had found his blade and was getting ready to strike.
He knew what was going to happen, the little girl would die, and he would be the cause. Seifer could not control himself though; he was being controlled by some forgotten or neglected part of himself. The little girl turned and saw her fate, but decided to run from the unstoppable wolf. He could hear himself laugh and walk after the girl in long strides, the Hyperion scrapping against the ground. Every few steps the girl would look behind her, only to see Seifer two steps ways without even trying. He could see the tears streaming down her little face, and he knew that he would end it now.
Taking one giant leap, he close lined her from the back, making her fall face forward. A smile played on his lips, as he stood with his back facing her. He could hear her rustle on the ground, trying to crawl away, but escape was futile. Seifer approached her quickly as she tried to get up, and grabbed her dirty blond hair. Forcefully he threw her back down onto the ground. She cried and cried, and he knew that he loved it. In the shadows he watched the whole thing, ever last detail flashed past him. Striking the girl across the face, standing her up by her hair and slamming her into a tree, where she slumped down too weak and broken to do anything now. In one swift attempt he grabbed her little arm and snapped it savagely. She screamed in pain as her opposite hand automatically went to clutch the broken limb, which was a definite mistake. He grabbed that arm and broke it also, rendering her absolutely helpless; there would be no scratching, no clawing at his skin in this murder.
It was time to get the deed done, and that is where his saber came into play. Some had said, in the future, that the Hyperion was indestructible, and able to cut through anything, he decided it was time to test this theory. It would be a quick death, but a brutal killing. He pointed his sword at the girl's forehead and put all of his weight on it. Suddenly the crying stopped and silence filled the crisp air as he withdrew the blade from her. Slowly he bent down, looking into the girls blank, bloodshot eyes.
"The innocent are the hardest to kill, for they do not give me the satisfaction of a fight," this time the he could hear the voice, for he was speaking too.
I've got the fuel but the fuel got me burning me up when it fires again, fires again I've got the fuel but the fuel got me Bringing me off when it cools again, cools again, cools again, cools again.
Well, r/r!! I hope you liked it, and if you were disturbed by this story...Good.