A/N: I'm sorry if this fic seems to be moving too slowly, and I do realize how heavily reliant upon some original characters it is. I certainly hope that isn't detracting too much from it as a whole. I have this whole thing plotted out, and these parts really are essential.
Who then can warm my soul?
Who can quell my passion?
Chapter 7: Quell My Passion
Bella looked down into the snow, her heart thudding lethargically in her chest. She clutched the satellite phone to the side of her face and listened to the empty ring emanating from it. She blinked slowly, almost in disbelief, and bit severely into her bottom lip.
"Balamb Garden, this is Quistis Trepe, how may I help you?" A woman's voice came suddenly on the line, shocking Bella out of her stupor. For a moment, it was difficult for her to remember exactly who she was calling and why. But the haunting images came back all too easily -- the blood and the stark terror.
"Quistis..." she managed to choke out, and then paused for a long shuddering breath. "This is Bella."
"Bella." Quistis sounded surprised. "Is there a problem?"
Is there a problem? Problem was an understatement. There had been a disaster, a catastrophe. Bella had always known deep inside that it was possible someone she was working with could die, she'd even come to accept on an intellectual level that a mission could lead to her own death, but she'd never imagined anything near to this.
"Bella?" Quistis prompted.
"Yes...there's a problem," Bella nodded, even though she knew the other woman couldn't see her.
"Well," Quistis let a breathy, almost disgruntled sigh. "What is it?"
"Darshan's dead." Bella covered her mouth after saying so, wanting to close the vile words back into her body. She wanted to deny that it was possible and forget she'd ever heard of Trabia, let alone been there. As her fingernails bit slowly into her fleshy cheeks, there was a long silence over the phone.
"Oh..." Quistis finally murmured, at a loss. "Um...why...I mean...what happened?"
Bella winced. "We split up, looking for the monster," she began, the words becoming increasingly easier as she continued to speak. "I was with Detective Lee, but Darshan insisted on going off on his own. A few minutes later, we heard screaming and...and...roaring. We ran to find him, but when we got there, there was just...just nothing left." With as hard as she was attempting to remain composed, her breath shuddered when she drew it in.
"Alright...okay." She could almost see Quistis nodding. "Are you still able to complete the mission?"
Complete the mission? Was she crazy? Someone just died. If she could see it....if she knew...she wouldn't ask.
Bella was dumbfounded and responded with a feeble murmur which Quistis took for acquiescence.
"I'll send someone to assist you," she promised. "And someone to collect...the remains."
Looking back down into the snow, Bella nodded. "Okay."
"And, Bella?" Quistis took a long breath. "I know this is hard to accept but...this is part of what we do. Things like this happen, and there isn't anything you can do to prevent it. It's not your fault. And you still have Mr. Lee with you. Lean on him for a bit. You're a strong girl. You'll get past this."
A hot tear burned its way down Bella's frosty cheek. "Okay."
"I'll talk to you again soon, Bella," Quistis said slowly. "Try and stay focused."
Focused. Bella couldn't stop herself from snorting with disbelieving laughter. She wasn't sure what she'd expected to hear, but a firm and unemotional buck up certainly wasn't what she'd been looking for. On the other hand, a part of her understood why Darshan's death was being brushed aside. They were military, part of elite mercenary forces. She was expected to move on and not dwell on the darker side of her work. They even taught classes in Garden on it. The professors called it professionalism and emotional disconnection.
"Yes, Sir," she responded.
"Contact me with a report when your backup arrives," Quistis replied staunchly.
Bella's arm tensed and then went lax. Muttering that she would send in her report soon, she turned the phone off and dropped it down into the snow. It created a small cavern at her feet, and she flopped down in front of it, the chill from the snow creeping up into the flesh of her rear. She needed a few moments to think, to put everything back together again. Darshan was gone, and she had to continue on the mission without him. She had to track down the very monster that had torn her partner to pieces. For a moment, it was all too much to take in.
"Bella?" Patrick Lee's hand fell on her shoulder. She turned to look back at him, and his face was both sympathetic and firm. "I contacted someone to come take care of this." One of his thumbs jerked back to where Darshan was laying. His dark hand squeezed her shoulder softly, and he offered her a small, encouraging smile. It meant something that he cared, but Bella was too numb to figure out exactly what. Instead, she sat in the snow and stared out into the trees, aware of Lee only because he was still touching her. She felt as if her world had been tipped upside down, and no matter what she did there was no way to really right it again. Granted, Darshan hadn't exactly been her favorite person in the world...but for him to die? And so horribly?
Her bottom was nearly numb by the time a group of men arrived, toting with them bags of equipment. They had latex gloves on, and one of them held a long yellow bag which he stretched out on the ground. A body bag, almost inconspicuous with it's daisy yellow shade. One would never guess the carnage that it could contain. It was an assault to her eyes, and she turned away.
"She the other SeeD?" she heard one of the men ask Lee.
"Horrible..."
"Poor thing..."
"Are more coming?"
Bella couldn't help feeling bitter. The Trabians didn't want them there. Darshan had died for them, and they didn't even really care. At night, in the little house that Ekalaka had provided for them in a new public housing project, Darshan had quietly told her of his reservations about the mission. There hadn't been a doubt in his mind that they were wasting their time. To the Trabians, the monster was just another feature of the landscape. It had killed people, but for most of them it hadn't killed anyone that they knew, and the facts behind their deaths couldn't really be proven. The plan had originally been to land in Ekalaka and proceed to White Pine where the most recent murder had taken place. She wished that they'd gotten out of town right away instead of lazily grouping and amassing supplies and information. Little good it all had done for Darshan. But the people didn't care that he'd died for them. They only wanted their singular way of life to be kept perfectly intact, no matter the cost.
Lifting her head, she looked around her and out into the trees. The whole forest was covered in a thick blanket of snow. The mountains surrounding them were just another growth of ice. What a wasteland.
Her sight riveted on a rock protruding up from the white, all smooth planes and soft curves. Following along one particularly nice line, she came to a set of shocking amber eyes. Starting, she closed her eyes and shook her head. She was really loosing her mind now, beginning even to see things. But when she opened her eyes again, they were still there, staring out at her from a fuzzy face and body that was half hidden in the snow.
The two held eye contact for one breathless moment before the creature bolted, throwing up a blinding wall in it's wake.
"Detective Lee!" Bella screamed, lurching up from her spot on the ground. The bottoms of her thighs were numb, and she stumbled when she came so suddenly to her feet. With some effort, she regained her balance and yelled again. "Patrick!"
"What?" he materialized beside her, as if he'd been there all along and she hadn't noticed.
"There!" she pointed wildly. "It was there!" Fumbling, she reached to her waist for her weapon and secured it firmly in her grip. She wasn't going to be surprised like Darshan was.
"What?" Lee asked.
"The monster," she explained breathlessly, taking off into the woods. "It was here! Dammit! The thing's been watching us all along!" She was going to get it, and it was going to pay. A muscle in her jaw cried out as she clenched her teeth, and the pounding of her boots against the ground reverberated up her spine.
Lee wasn't far behind her. "Bella! Wait!"
"If we don't get it now," she panted, "we might never get it!" They had everything they needed. They were well equipped to go off into the wilderness in search of a monster. And Bella was feeling a thirst for vengeance rise up in her. Like some sort of avenging Fury, she was propelled onward and couldn't stop.
There was a clear and somewhat sloppy path through the snow that was easy to follow, even in her state. Occasionally, she caught tantalizing glimpses of black that set her heart racing anew. They were close. Patrick Lee was panting hard behind her, his steps falling further and further behind. No other forces in the world were as well trained as SeeD, and her lungs were heaving efficiently even when Lee began to stumble.
"Bella..." he pleaded, "this is crazy. We're never going to catch this thing on foot."
Stubbornly, she ignored him. The last thing she wanted to hear was that she was being irrational. She could and she would catch this monster, and she would put an end to its miserable existence. Then she could go home. Only with that could she really be at peace again. A deep wound inside of her was festering, and in the freshness of it, she doubted that it would ever heal.
"I can't..." Lee was falling further behind her. "Wait..."
She plunged headlong through the trees, following hot on the trail. So myopic was her field of view that she had to skid to a stop when the trail came to a sudden end at a large, black lump on the ground. She tensed and took a quick inventory of her spells, fully prepared for all out battle before she noticed a shock of brilliant blonde hair sticking up out of the lump. And then, upon further investigation, she noticed an arm, and a foot and -- she gasped -- blood.
Rushing up to the man, she threw herself on her knees beside him and turned him over. A young man stared up at her, his face flushed and drawn. His face was smeared with blood, enough that she couldn't tell immediately where it was coming from.
"Oh my God," she breathed, her heart racing now for an entirely new reason. She ran her hands down his body, and they came back soaked in blood. There was a wound on his thigh, and his clothes were slowly turning the snow pink.
"Bella, what are you --" Lee came up behind her and then froze. She lifted her gloved hand, now laced in crimson. With this new emergency, the monster was all but forgotten as her gentler side won out over the raw rage that had momentarily possessed her.
"We have to get this man some help," she announced emphatically, her heart swelling strangely with new purpose. "Quickly." The man stared up at her, unmoving, and oddly familiar. Each puff of his breath hovered in the air and dissipated, counting the precious seconds.
Seifer was dreaming. He knew that it was a dream, but all the same couldn't escape from the world his mind wrapped around him. As always, she was there. She never failed to appear in his dreams anymore, and when she approached him he could smell the intoxicating scent of her. Gasping at the air for the essence of her, he relished in her company. So close, so available for him to touch. A sense of reverence filled him and he shook before her in spiritual rapture. An easy, slow smile crossed her face, and she reached out to take his hand.
The contact send a chill racing up his arm that permeated the rest of his body. Her fingers clasped his, and she pulled him closer. Between them, he was aware of her chest heaving with every breath. He was aware of the way the motion of her head made her earrings jingle invitingly. Slithering up his forearm, her hand made its way to his shoulder and eventually came to rest at the back of his head. He stared, a slave ready and willing to do her bidding.
"My knight," she whispered, her mouth close to his.
Seifer shook, the energy leaching out of his body.
"You want to be with me forever, don't you?" she asked. Dumbly, he nodded. It was all he could to to answer her, and his knees felt weak under his weight.
She smiled, a row of perfect white teeth peeking through darkly rouged lips.
"Of course you do," she whispered. Her hand at the back of his neck tensed, and she reflexively drew him toward her. Her nails bit into his skin, making him gasp audibly. There was something perverse and delightful in the way she was treating him, and a part of him fed off of it. When his mouth fell open to utter his pain, she lunged forward, catching it with her own.
A kiss. Her witch's lips embraced his own, and her hand held him firmly. With unnatural strength, she held him still with just that one hand, bruising his flesh. Groaning, Seifer opened his eyes and saw hers staring back through a halo of exotic purple streaks. Rising up behind her, black feathery wings lashed out, and Seifer suddenly choked, overcome.
The breath was sucked out of his body, and something lodged in his throat. Desperate, he struggled against her, but she was firm. He flailed wildly in fear of death encroaching upon him. Tears burst forth from his eyes, streaming down his cheeks, and his body chilled to the consistency of ice.
Then, as suddenly as she had pulled him in, she shoved him away. He landed on his backside, gasping for air. A few long heaves brought him back to his senses, and as he looked up at her exotic form, she folded her wings in. "You're mine."
Seifer gasped loudly, the sound rocking him back into reality. Confused and frightened, he looked around the dim room he was lying in. Unable to separate the real world from his dream, he searched for a terrifying moment for the ebony wings of Ultimecia.
"Oh..." a soft voice gasped beside him.
He turned, and everything in his world came to pieces when he saw her. "Quistis?"
She stared back at him, her blonde hair illuminated like a halo by the dim light from another room. Looking down on him, she sat in judgment, some kind of avenging angel. For a confused moment he was both relieved and terrified.
"Quistis...I..." he tried to roll toward her, but a sharp pain in his thigh stopped him. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know...I didn't understand..."
"I'm not Quistis." She sat stiffly, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.
Seifer blinked and then stared. The memories came back in a haunting succession of flashes. Running into the woods, trying to save himself and finding SeeD instead. With a twitch, he remembered the battle and the hot, searing pain of a knife pushing its way into his thigh. And, with dark revulsion, he remembered feeling the SeeD squirm under him as he tore away limbs and relished in the taste and smell of blood. Seifer's stomach muscles tensed, and for a second he thought he might throw up.
And this Quistis...this wasn't really Quistis. It was the other SeeD. He tried not to let his absolute horror show on his face. Did she know who he was? Was she going to take him back to Balamb? Was he already there? And how had she found him in the first place.
"You were hurt," she seemed to see at least confusion in his countenance. "My name is Bella. I brought you back here." If she was curious as to how he knew of Quistis Trepe, she didn't ask. For that, at least, he was grateful. "Lay back and relax...you need some time to recuperate."
Even as he dropped his head back down onto the pillow under him, he still continued to stare at her, all the while seeing Quistis Trepe. He blinked slowly, feeling from her presence a warm flowing peace. Every part of his body ached, but it didn't matter because she was there. She was with him. She'd forgiven him. For everything.
"Is there anything I can get you?" the woman asked, bringing him once again back out of his delusion.
"No," Seifer's voice croaked, thick with the warring emotions inside of him. He pinched his eyes closed, dropping himself back into darkness. Both women smiled back at him through the veil, Ultimecia a phantom and Quistis a dream. A fragile part of his heart broke, and a pervasive sense of sadness overcame Seifer Almasy. Stripped down the the rawest elements of his form, he turned his head away from the strange woman so she wouldn't see his broken tears.