Chapter 1 Frozen In Death
Author's note: This fic is to replace 'Put Your Hand In Mine' and is actually an old idea I've been pondering over. I would have posted it earlier, but circumstances dictated otherwise. Anyway, here goes. As usual, Review and tell me what you think!
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Darkness. And in the distance, he could see a tantalizing square of light, beckoning to him. If only...
He held out a hand to block the light, only to discover a halo around the outline, making it even harder to ignore. Why?!
He shifted on the hard ground. He had long grown accustomed to the rough stony ground, and the merciless craggy walls which kept him here, a dead man.
Dead.
That's what he is. Despite the fact that he was alive, and breathing, he would have preferred being in hell. At least he would know there's no escape, than here, with that little square of light reminding him of his underground imprisonment.
A slight sound and the rattling of metal gates made him turn around. There was no doubt as to who it was - the nauseating guard sent to give him his pitiful meal - and torment him to no end. He made an indistinct growl and crawled away from the wall, the metal bracelets around his wrists clanking heavily. It was bad enough that he was chained like an animal, but...
The eye of torchlight was shoved directly into his eyes, making him squint. For someone who had lived in total darkness, bright light was an alien entity. The guard kicked a flimsy metal tray containing - Hyne knows what into the cage, laughing madly. "Feeding time, Storm."
He looked at the tray with distaste. Why should they feed a dead man?! Why not just let him die and get it over with?!
"I see you're still breathing," Another voice made his ears prickle, yet he refused to meet the speaker. It wasn't necessary. Even with eyes averted, one could almost feel the wrath emanating from him. And the speaker knew it. "I hope you're not trying to starve yourself, Storm. You can't die... not just yet."
He fixed his eyes on the speaker now - cold, gray eyes had that no hint of mercy. Once, those eyes alone could make a man faint with fright, but there was no use now, trapped in an underground prison, with electrically charged metal bars barring his freedom. He was going nowhere, and he knows it. And the stark reality of it made bitterness rise like bile in his throat.
The visitor laughed, a low, rumbling laugh. "What does it feel like to be a dead man, Storm? Dead, but living like a rat? Isn't it a refreshing change from your... past life? Ahahaha!!!!"
'Storm' merely growled, the only hint to the depth of his anger. Damn them for making him suffer! If only he could somehow pass through those bars...
"Yes, growl, if that is the only way you can harm me!" The visitor chuckled again. "I regret ever crushing your vocal chords, but if you weren't so disagreeable, you can still hurl abuses at me right now, hmm, Storm?"
That does it. He viciously spat at his visitor's feet, trying to keep his rage in check. His visitor merely chuckled. "You shouldn't have done that, Storm. Five years in captivity has made you... even more violent. I suppose I must teach you to behave."
That's it, he thought and before he could even move, a powerful surge of electricity coursing through his body made him howl noiselessly. Again and again, the surges racking his nerves, making him feel like he was dying over and over...
And it was over. He was curled on the ground, gasping for breath. And through the haze of pain, he could still hear the visitor, speaking in that low voice.
"Until you tell me where the money is, you won't die, Storm. Ah... But you are no longer the fearsome assassin I once knew and admired. It would only be appropriate to call you by your given name... Squall Leonhart."
Footnote: Here we go, the opening for a new story. It's a little short, but forgive me, hmm? Review and tell me what you think!
Author's note: This fic is to replace 'Put Your Hand In Mine' and is actually an old idea I've been pondering over. I would have posted it earlier, but circumstances dictated otherwise. Anyway, here goes. As usual, Review and tell me what you think!
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
Darkness. And in the distance, he could see a tantalizing square of light, beckoning to him. If only...
He held out a hand to block the light, only to discover a halo around the outline, making it even harder to ignore. Why?!
He shifted on the hard ground. He had long grown accustomed to the rough stony ground, and the merciless craggy walls which kept him here, a dead man.
Dead.
That's what he is. Despite the fact that he was alive, and breathing, he would have preferred being in hell. At least he would know there's no escape, than here, with that little square of light reminding him of his underground imprisonment.
A slight sound and the rattling of metal gates made him turn around. There was no doubt as to who it was - the nauseating guard sent to give him his pitiful meal - and torment him to no end. He made an indistinct growl and crawled away from the wall, the metal bracelets around his wrists clanking heavily. It was bad enough that he was chained like an animal, but...
The eye of torchlight was shoved directly into his eyes, making him squint. For someone who had lived in total darkness, bright light was an alien entity. The guard kicked a flimsy metal tray containing - Hyne knows what into the cage, laughing madly. "Feeding time, Storm."
He looked at the tray with distaste. Why should they feed a dead man?! Why not just let him die and get it over with?!
"I see you're still breathing," Another voice made his ears prickle, yet he refused to meet the speaker. It wasn't necessary. Even with eyes averted, one could almost feel the wrath emanating from him. And the speaker knew it. "I hope you're not trying to starve yourself, Storm. You can't die... not just yet."
He fixed his eyes on the speaker now - cold, gray eyes had that no hint of mercy. Once, those eyes alone could make a man faint with fright, but there was no use now, trapped in an underground prison, with electrically charged metal bars barring his freedom. He was going nowhere, and he knows it. And the stark reality of it made bitterness rise like bile in his throat.
The visitor laughed, a low, rumbling laugh. "What does it feel like to be a dead man, Storm? Dead, but living like a rat? Isn't it a refreshing change from your... past life? Ahahaha!!!!"
'Storm' merely growled, the only hint to the depth of his anger. Damn them for making him suffer! If only he could somehow pass through those bars...
"Yes, growl, if that is the only way you can harm me!" The visitor chuckled again. "I regret ever crushing your vocal chords, but if you weren't so disagreeable, you can still hurl abuses at me right now, hmm, Storm?"
That does it. He viciously spat at his visitor's feet, trying to keep his rage in check. His visitor merely chuckled. "You shouldn't have done that, Storm. Five years in captivity has made you... even more violent. I suppose I must teach you to behave."
That's it, he thought and before he could even move, a powerful surge of electricity coursing through his body made him howl noiselessly. Again and again, the surges racking his nerves, making him feel like he was dying over and over...
And it was over. He was curled on the ground, gasping for breath. And through the haze of pain, he could still hear the visitor, speaking in that low voice.
"Until you tell me where the money is, you won't die, Storm. Ah... But you are no longer the fearsome assassin I once knew and admired. It would only be appropriate to call you by your given name... Squall Leonhart."
Footnote: Here we go, the opening for a new story. It's a little short, but forgive me, hmm? Review and tell me what you think!