earithdd.avi
By kimetara
One-shot
Disclaimer: Nope, FFVII isn't mine.
There she is.
Finally. It took me some time, but I found her. Should I kill her now? Praying, kneeling, her head bowed...so absolutely vulnerable.
Mother urges me to do so quickly, but I'll wait. I know her friends are coming. Let them watch as this angelic little flower girl dies before their very eyes. Such a fragile thing. How could this simple female be the key to the undoing of the Great Sephiroth? And yet, for many nights Mother has nagged me to get rid of her, warning that this Cetra girl would be my downfall. Such a pest.
I will enjoy this kill.
Ah, he's here. What an idiot, telling his other comrades to stay back while he goes and confronts her alone. Doubtless, to start spewing worthless garbage about how glad he is that she's "safe." Perhaps I'll wait until he begins speaking. That'll be a laugh, don't you think? Just as he's congratulating himself for reaching her in time, she dies. Haha...I can feel the smirk pull across my face. I have such a sadistic sense of humor.
This is becoming boring, he's only standing there, waiting. There we go, she finally acknowledged him, lifting her head up from that prayer. Still, they're simply staring at each other...and all she does is give him a small, surprised yet triumphant smile. Abruptly, a cold sense of foreboding brushes through me. Perhaps I gave her too much time? Yes, enough waiting, I can find other toys. And besides, Mother is calling.
Silently, I leap down from my perch on the scaffolding. The sun above me creates a shadow over that pool of light she kneels in, but I pay it no heed. By the time those simpletons figure out what's going on, it will be too late. Such an easy target...
The wind rushes past my ears, whipping silver hair from my face and causing my cape to flare behind me. In addition to being a functional piece of clothing, the cape does add a very dramatic touch to all my actions. Mother is the one who suggested it to me, "after all, even rising gods can have some fun with their appearances." She always does make sure I never overexert myself.
Almost there. I lift my Masamune slightly, preparing for the final thrust. Hah, I can see the realization in his eyes, even if his mind hasn't processed it yet. A black shadow behind his beloved Cetra, the sword mere inches from her body.
The tip touches the small of her back as I initiate the attack, and almost instantaneously, she stiffens. Almost to the floor. My sword is halfway through, and her arms begin to fall. Through, done. I land perfectly silent on the mythril dais, no echo to ruin the moment. Her praying hands fall limply to her sides, her wrists suddenly feeling the weight of her protective bangles. Much good they did.
Sching. I love that sound. The ring of a cold, clean cut going through the body, the force, the finality. My timing was slightly off due to my carelessness, going through her stomach instead of her chest, but it'll do. Either way, she won't survive. In fact, this way her death will linger... Amusement bubbles up inside me.
One, two...her posture relaxes, and she falls forward over the sword, her arms and head following gravity limply. Her arms swing loosely beside her, as her head bounces up and down like some sort of rag doll. That annoyingly long braid bounces with her. I can hear a tiny intake of breath as she stops moving, the smallest gasp. Of pain, or of surprise? Who knows? I've never died.
I wait until I'm certain she's come to rest. I know she's still alive, minuscule pants are coming from that delicately pouty mouth. I can't help but look up at the poor blond fool, my amusement coming to light in one simple smirking glance. This is the threat to my existence? It seems almost too easy.
My clone stares back at me, shock and horror playing across its face. Yes, this clone is the one that feels pseudo emotions, even more flawed than its brethren. That one won't submit to the power of Jenova; it has yet to admit it is little more than a puppet. Eventually though, it will...when Mother feels like it. She isn't interested in the failed ones yet.
Smoothly, I turn and pull my Masamune from the girl's body in one swift fluid motion. There's no need to go hack and slash, why ruin a perfect piece of art with such gore? That single strike, the threadlike slit...one could hardly even see where the Masamune had pierced her. Only the faintest drip of blood was beginning to spread through the pink cotton of her dress. It was one of the sword's many favors.
Ah, that lovely sound again as I pull the metal back through her petite form. My Masamune tugs her upper half with it, and once more her body straightens, her head lifts, her arms fall obediently to their sides. But I'm not done yet, and as I finish the task her back arches to follow the path of cold steel, her arms rise in futile attempt. And her head falls back, as if straining to see who has taken her life from her. She has yet to see me during her death. I doubt she ever will, even though she will linger for a few more moments. I wonder, is it painful?
There, I am finished. Free of constraints, her body straightens, returns to its natural position, dragging the head along with it. For a split second she teeters upright, and then the muscles of her neck slacken, and her chin drops sharply forward, freeing the ribbon from her hair. That bouncing hair...I should cut it off, but it will be a waste of time. I will never have to see that braid again after this.
Her head continues to drag the rest of her body down, falling to the icy floor. Is gravity so much heavier? Can you feel the pressure, little girl, that force that you have never once paid attention to until this moment of your death?
So, now the fool finally moves, running to keep her from hitting the ground. Idiot. As if that will help; she's beyond your care. I can see it, I can see her body giving in, her gasps are growing more uneven and ragged. In my mind's eye, in Mother's eyes, I can see her eyelids shutting, even as she falls away from me. The flower girl doesn't want to die with her eyes open.
As he runs to catch her, as her breaths come to a stop, there is a small ting...like something crystal has fallen on the floor of mythril. Momentarily I consider investigating, but it is gone after only a few rings, and this scene before me is much to entertaining to pass up. Are you upset as you shake her shoulders, begging her to open her eyes, my mannequin? Are those tears falling down your face as you bow your head, clutching her tighter to you? Do you really believe you are feeling anger, suffering? Hah, you have much to learn, marionette...you will see. In time, you will be Mother's puppet, and mine. You will undergo many more deaths before I am finished...