Short Stories of Strangers

My little tributes to the less significant people of Final Fantasy VII. I'm sorry, it does seem like a lot of these stories are full of death. If you have any requests for insignificant characters that you want me to write about, please tell me!

Story Three: The Last Stand

A door flies open, and heads turn. Wild fear, consumes minds. A tall, black man is standing, framed in a doorway, shouting.

"They're attacking! The tower, c'mon!"

Feet pounds polished wood. Then runs over mud and hard earth. Voices rise to a scream, and people run hither and thither like lost sheep, confused, afraid. Then the boots touch metal. Tall steps, leading up, up, up, straight into hell. Run up to the top. White hot lead splits the air cleanly.

"GET DOWN!"

Blood flows from a lip, as a young man flings himself from the top of the stairs, where bullets bury themselves into the framework. He has a red bandana in his black hair, and a green vest and baggy, stained trousers, which are ripped, revealing grazed knees and a soldier in blue Shinra uniform jumps from the platform, and crouches there, aiming the gun at the man, lying on a flight of stairs, crumpled.

A knife whistles through the air, and embeds itself in the soldier's flesh. He cries out, jerks, and sinks to the ground, soaking in his own blood. The man staggers upright, and looks blindly around.

"Jessie!"

An auburn haired woman swings upside-down by her feet from the platform above him. Above her there is a ceiling, a huge metal and concrete plate – the upper world. The woman swings from the tall pillar, supporting Sector 7, and a winding staircase climbs the tower. High above them, a helicopter circles the platform. The woman may have smiled, if she'd had a chance. But a loud BANG! rocks the gigantic tower. Jessie lurches, and her feet slip. She falls and is crushed against the staircase.

"JESSIE!"

Feet, running down the metal stairs. A desperate hand touches a soft cheek, and feels hot, sticky blood, sliding down into a panting mouth. The woman called Jessie chokes and slides down against the iron framework of the stairs.

"Biggs…Bi…ggs…" she speaks in a strangled voice, a trembling hand at her mouth. The man reaches out to her, but she shakes her head.

"Barret…We…Wedge." Harsh, rasping breaths. Life comes and goes in haste. "They need y-you. Stop the soldiers c-coming."

Biggs nods, and runs down the stairs, he pulls a pistol from his pocket. He is met by bullets piercing the air, as soldiers stream up the staircase by the pillar, to stop the rebels.

He keeps firing, soldiers, flying off the stairs, yelling and firing wildly. Then his gun clicks. Empty. Then a fist connects with his jaw. Blood gushes through his clenched teeth. Then a foot kicks his stomach, and he collapses. Another fist strikes his chest, and he feels ribs breaking. The blows keep coming, his face and his body being punished by the cruel frenzy. Then a cold voice speaks.

"Leave him." It says. "He will die."

And the man is left, staring at the ground, buckling weakly against the iron rail of the staircase. To die.

Small, hot, deadly.

They split the air, slicing calm like knives, and the hard, metal bullets sank into flesh, searing the skin, spilling blood. Fingers became numb, and a pistol clattered on the floor. White clothing is stained red. Legs buckled. The man stumbled back and hit the railing, tipping backwards. For a moment, he wobbled, his wounds, oozing steadily. Then his weight succumbed to gravity, and he fell back, and into cold, empty air.

A familiar voice shouted for him, but he was plummeting down, metal stairs flashing past him, light and sounds blending into a mindless blur. Then he hit solid ground. His bones jangled, and his organs sloshed around under his skin. The impact choked him, and all air rushed from his lungs. He had fallen 50 feet to the floor, and darkness was pouring into his eyes. A distorted face swam into his vision, then another, which came close, and a woman's voice entered his senses.

"Wedge! Wedge, answer me!"

"Tif…" A croak came out of the dying man's throat. "Tif…Barret, he…"

"What is it Wedge?" A face with a mass of blond, spiky hair twisted before his eyes. Cloud.

"Cl…Cloud." He coughed, bringing up blood. "Barret…needs…y-you. Go…quick…ly."

The face bobbed out of focus, and he heard a far away voice say, "Aeris, please look after Wedge."

A blurred and unfamiliar face with a mass of brown, silken hair swam into his line of sight, and a small of flowers wafted into his nostrils. He suddenly, through his agony, felt a sense of soothing calm fill his heart. A gentle, warm hand enveloped his, reassuring and kind.

"Aeris," Tifa's distant voice was urgent. "I've got a bar called Seventh Heaven in this Sector. There's a little girl called Marlene there. Could you…?"

"Of course." The reply was understanding and calm.

"Let's go!" Cloud's voice fled from his senses, and he heard, distantly, feet pounding up iron stairs. Wedge silently willed for Cloud and Tifa to go, to help Barret, to stop the deaths of the people of the Sector Seven slums.

The gentle voice spoke again, and the sweet scent of lilies swept over his face, caressing his cheek.

"I must go, to find Marlene." The female voice whispered in his ear. Wedge wanted to say 'don't go!', but he merely choked on his own blood. The blurred face vanished from above his eyes, and he was left, staring at the plate high above him. Pain stabbed at his insides, and his flesh broke, and bled. This was his last stand. And he was ready to die. For the planet.

Blood. Coppery, it tastes bitter. The man is sprawled at the foot of the stairs. Biggs is dying. People reach out to him. He recognizes them, from beneath his bloodshot, heavy lidded eyes.

"Cloud…you really did come here to help us…? You…really do care about…what happens…to the Planet…?" He says, then chokes, and spits out blood. It is bitter on his tongue. He barely hears the response, and he shakes his bruised head when they reach out to him again.

"N-no!" Biggs mutters, his head lolling on his neck. "Barret! G-go to Barret."

Black is swirling around him, filling his eyes. He hears them clatter away, and he collapses, feeling cold metal under his bloodstained fingers. Biggs will die. He will die, because he believes that the Planet will die. He lifts his head, and sees droplets of blood pouring down on him from the sky.

The woman named Jessie is soaking in her own blood, her body crushed and frail. Her blood seeps through the iron mesh beneath her, and she raises her head blindly and dimly sees heavy boots coming towards her.

"Jessie!"

"Ti…fa?" She asked in a strangled voice. "Cl…oud?"

Hands grabbed her arms, but she coughed and shook her head frantically. The hands stopped moving.

"Helicopter…Barret." She moaned in pain, and rolled onto her back, the hand releasing their grip. "Up top…g……Go!"

The boots ran away, and Jessie was left, bleeding on the stairs. She coughed and wheezed. Her lungs didn't want to take in oxygen. If only she had worked out sooner what Shinra planned to do. She had been foolish. But did she believe it was for nothing? No. This was for the planet. This was her last stand.

For awhile, three people lay dying in silence, unnoticed, staring at the huge plate above them. A fiery detonation blasted above the stairs, shaking the slums, and the plate above. Then the stone pillar cracked. A massive chunk of stone fell, smashing the stairs to the ground, and Biggs and Jessie were sent flying to the ground, sprawled next to Wedge. They all lay crumpled together, bleeding freely, their blood mingling. People were screaming, running away from the twisted mass of stairs. Wedge slowly raised his hand as another explosion rocked the slums. He found Biggs' fingers, and gripped them. Biggs glanced up from the dirt floor, and grinned weakly. He reached out, and held Jessie's hand, and she blinked and smiled, blood dripping down from her temple. Jessie stretched out her trembling fingers and grabbed Wedge's fat fingers. They lay there, holding each other, watching the wobbling plate overhead. Then one side of the plate slipped, whining and howling as wires snapped and concrete shook. The three of them shivered.

"For the Planet?" Biggs said suddenly, spitting out blood.

"For the Planet." Jessie and Wedge croaked.

Then the plate above them screamed with a million terrified people, and it rushed down to meet them, stone and metal flying like rain. Man, women and children in the slums stood still and watched in horror as the pillar crumpled like a straw, and fire and brimstone rushed at them. Jessie, Wedge and Biggs closed their eyes, and excepted death without flinching. This had been their last stand.

Please tell me what you think! Review!

Next up, Story 4: Comforting and comfort of the angel

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