Sinner's Descent
Chapter Nine-A Thief And One Who Squeals
Kadaj glanced fearfully over his shoulder, shifting the bag he carried to a more comfortable position as he crossed from Sector Two to Sector Three. Quickening his pace as a sick feeling settled in the pit of his stomach, he glanced back one more time, his eyes widening in shock and his feet stopping their forward movement abruptly.
He could have sworn he saw a flash of silver... Shaking his head, he peered around the crowd of people nervously, his heart pounding wildly in his chest.
His only choice was to flee Midgar. He knew that he wouldn't make it far, but at least it was worth a try. Sephiroth would not rest until he was dead, nor would Kuja, now that they knew of his failure.
Northside had received a tip from some inside informant that Strife had the discovery, a piece of materia, currently in his posession. It had spoiled one of the options Kadaj had needed for survival.
Unfortunately, his other chance at life had also been taken. He had found out who had taken the Mako, but not before Kuja. Sephiroth had informed him yesterday that he had twenty four hours to retrieve the materia. Kadaj shuddered at the thought of Sephiroth's eyes, vivid green, slightly glowing...
"Going somewhere?"
He lifted his head in utter terror, he moved back, the bagslipping from his grasp and falling to the floor. Papers fluttered around, landing softly on the floor.
"I-I was just-"
"Spare me," Sephiroth said, narrowing his eyes as he lifted a piece of paper and quickly scanned it. A grim smile formed on his lips. Kadaj bit his lips. The papers contained the current Mako status, which had increased over double from the last review."It seemed Kuja was not wrong," Sephiroth murmured, his voice unusually soft. He threw his head back and laughed, the sound coming out hollow and dry.
"I was going to tell you," Kadaj stuttered quickly, moving back further as Sephiroth advanced upon him. When long, tapered fingers bit into the skin on his neck, his brain went fuzzy, and all the worries that had plagued him not just yesterday flew out the window.
He was going to die. The small voice whispered it mockingly in his head, the laughter echoing in his brain as he contemplated how Sephiroth was going to kill him. Knowing the conniving bastard, it would probably be slow and painful. Kadaj felt a small jolt of annoyance. It seemed that nothing went his way. Couldn't they at least lighten it up on his death?
"Tell me, Kadaj, did you honestly believe I would not find you?" Sephiroth asked, releasing some tension on his throat. Kadaj refused to answer. Instead, he blew the silver hair out of his face, his upper lip curling into a sneer.
"You're going to die, Sephiroth. That Strife isn't going to leave the job unfinished this time," he spat, his voice angry and agressive. Maybe he could get Sephiroth angry enough to kill him quickly. Kadaj mentally shrugged. It was better than nothing.
"Perhaps," Sephiroth agreed readily, squeezing tighter. Kadaj's vision blurred and he struggled hard to keep Sephiroth from splitting into three seperate people. "However, you will not be here to see it. My work is nearly complete," Sephiroth added, leaning in closer as he lifted Kadaj's nearly limp form off the ground.
The constricting squeeze on his throat tightened, and Kadaj fought the urge to gag. It would only give Sephiroth more pleasure to know he was in terrible pain.
"You see," Sephiroth continued, his voice now nothing but a whisper in Kadaj's ear, "Soon, the world will know of my dominance, should I be here to witness it or not," he finished, clenching harder around Kadaj's wind tunnel.
As the last of his breath depleted from his lungs, Kadaj's brain vaguely registered the idea of fighting. It might buy him a few more precious moments of life. He tried half-heartedly to swing his leg, but the bottom portion of his body was already numb and cold, and he simply gave up.
At least he had tried.
Blank checked both sides of the streets before he started forward. Keeping up at a brisk pace, he couldn't help but sigh in relief when he made it safely across the street. Midgar drivers were terribly dangerous on the road.
Keeping his hands securely in his pockets, he strolled liesurely down the sidewalk. Rule number one of becoming a messanger: Never appear in a rush unless you were in a rush. And he wasn't in a rush, well... not exactly.
Turning a corner, he checked his surroundings. Rule number two of becoming a messanger: Always make sure you aren't being followed. Casting a surruptios glance to his right, he slowed his pace somewhat.
Nodding grimly to himself when a blonde girl did the same, he quickened his pace. Yep, he was being followed. He did a small series of 'lose follower tactics', which started rule number three of becoming a messanger: Always lose the people who are following you with the 'lose follower tactics'.
These tactics included: turning many street corners to perform a perfect circle of the desired location. Quickening and lowering footsteps to unbalance follower. And lastly, running outright if the bastard was still on you.
Blank generally avoided the last rule, however. He despised running and many direct physical activities like it. He preffered more grounded things, like sword-fighting and fencing. Turning another corner, he sighed. The blonde had been lost.
Taking a short breather by a light post, he leaned gently against it. Though there was a strap covering his eyes, he wasn't incabable of seeing. He had perfect eyesight, just in a different manner. He would have mentally delved into an explanation to himself of just exactly how he was able to see, except for one thing.
As he felt the tug on his arm and the rip of his pocket, a single thought flashed through his mind. He had been jacked. As soon as he blinked a few times to assure this statement, he started off after the blonde, cursing himself for stopping.
He could have been a few minutes closer to his destination by now, but instead, he was here, doing the one thing he hated most in life except for mandatory breathing- he was running. Grumbling out an impressive string of curse words, he followed the blonde closely, legs and arms pumping viciously as he urged his out-of-shape body to keep up with the youth.
He stared in horror, coming to a direct halt and nearly toppling forward, when the girl hopped lithely over a fence and then ran into Northside territory, leaving him with a last flash of blonde hair. If he pursued her, he would be shot or stabbed and left in a back alley, a death thoroughly unpleasing and not at all appealing. Yet again, if he didn't pursue her, either his boss would kill him, or the person he was delivering to would do it.
Turning slowly, numb with exhaustion and mental pain, he started back toward Underground headquarters. Strife and Haschel were going to be pissed. He had been delivering the materia and a note to Haschel, and he had been jacked.
"Stupid blonde," he muttered, kicking angrily at a soda can. He might as well kiss that raise and promotion goodbye.
Rikku felt immensely pleased with herself. It was not everyday that you jacked one of the best messangers in the business. She tossed the materia up in the air, catching on it's way back down before stuffing it back into her pocket.
Seifer would be sure glad about this! And that would garuntee her promotion and raise, something she had been looking forward to for a long time. She giggled to herself, causing the desk attendant at Northside headquarters to cast her a dubious look.
"Seifer will see you now," the woman said, nodding at the elevators. Rikku pressed the button for the top floor, feeling important and special when she stepped into the plush hallways of embroidered silk and suede.
Knocking on the door to her boss' office, she jumped back in shock when the door flung open instantly. The materia was snatched from her hand and the door slammed shut almost as quickly as it had opened, leaving her standing, alone, right in front of it, a dazed expression on her face.
"Hey!" she cried indignantly, snapping back to attention andpounding on the door. No 'Congratulations, Rikku!', or promotion? And where was her raise? "Where's my raise?" she whined to herself, sliding against the door to the floor.
"I'm so under-appreciated," she moped, standing up andtrudging back toward the elevator. At least she had the self satisfaction of knowing what she had done. She snorted in disbelief at her own self. What a prat she was becoming.
Ultimecia shivered in joy as she approached Ansem's doors. It had been sheer luck that had caused her to take her bathroom break early, thus landing her some of the most important information ever.
It seemed that the Alliance was not as united as the leader thought. Rubbing her hands together in pure greed, she gave the door to Ansem's room a hungry look, practically pounding on it in her haste to knock.
"Come in," her boss called irritably, his voice muffled by the thick wood. Unlike other Alliances, Devil's had less break-ins, and could afford to keep practical wooden devices.
"Ansem," she greeted pleasantly, helping herself to a chair across from him. He seemed mildly annoyed at her bubbly demeanor, and he got straight to the point.
"What. Do. You. Want?" he bit out, still clutching a thick stack of papers. Ultimecia gave him a secretive smile, leaning forward in her chair.
"I have something for you," she said, her voice dropping to a hushed whisper. Ansem's golden eyes blazed at her words, but he made no move to drop the papers. "It's something I feel the leader of this so-called Alliance should know," she continued, leaning back in her chair and letting the smug smile fall back into place.
Ansem's eyes finally narrowed, and she nodded in satisfaction when the papers returned to the desk, giving her the full attention of Ansem. "What is it?" he snapped, his voice still imbued with irritation.
"Well, I was on my way to the bathroom, you know, we only get one break a day around here? You should really change that, and-"
"Get to the point," Ansem said, cutting her off. He stared coolly at her, deciding whether or not she was serious about this information of hers. Ultimecia was not known for her wit or cunning.
"Well, like I was saying," Ultimecia added, somewhat miffed at the rebutal, "I was on my bathroom break and I heard Jafar and Hook talking," she added, jumping back slightly when he nearly lunged at her from his chair, sending the papers on his desk flying. His eyes were burning and focused solely on her, sending a shiver down her spine.
"What were they talking about?" he questioned roughly, narrowing his eyes.
"Well, Jafar was saying something about keeping Seifer under control, and that there was nothing his staff couldn't do. Oh, and Hook kept blabbering about the number of people he had killed in the streets," Ultimecia said, grinning widely when Ansem nodded in approval.
"You have done well coming to me, Ultimecia. Expect just rewards," he said gravely, nodding his head and standing up to shake her hand. "You may have the rest of the day off," he offered, seating himself once again.
"How generous!" she breathed, smiling with glee at her amazing luck. And didn't 'Just rewards' sound positively wonderful? "I will," she added, breezing out the door toward the parking lot.
Ansem stared after her in distaste. The useless woman had finally proved to be worth a small fraction of what trouble she caused with her flightly feminine ways.
He narrowed his eyes at his open door. As if on cue, a door gaurd came and slammed it shut, scuttling forward quickly. Foolish woman. Just rewards, indeed. She would be killed as soon as he finished his work. He sighed, ignoring his work for an extra moment as he contemplated his current situation.
So... He scoffed at ridiculous Jafar. He was controlling Seifer with his Staff of Snakes, notoriously known for it's hypnotising effects. It was not surprising. The whole lot of the Alliance had their own power plans in mind. He was well aware of that.
But for two of the best to be so careless with information such as that... He studied the papers now laying about his floor with a slight unease. Perhaps there was more to this than he had anticipated. His rise to power had not come as he planned.
Indeed, it had not come at all. He had planned to kill the sack, take power, rid of the Alliance as soon as he controlled more than half of the city, and then dominate the rest. Eventually he would move on to other cities and such, but nothing had gone according to plan.
The book had been stolen, the mercenary had entered the picture, and the issue of the Mako and materia had arisen. Gritting his teeth, Ansem bent over to pick up the papers. No use worrying himself about it now. The most he could do was finish the paperwork.
With a sigh, he grabbed a few more forms from the ever-increasing mountain of them on the edge of his desk. Yes, nothing to do but finish the paperwork.
Yeah, so, this is chapter nine. Oh, man, I am so freaking happy Tadpole is out of the hospital! Turns out she only had a bad case of meningitis, not cancer!Whoot! Yeah, yeah, yeah! Lol, too bad she didn't edit this... Anyways, the updates should get back to normal, for the person who is constantly plagueing me with e-mails... Not that I don't love it, but...Meh! Read and review!