Mortal Sin
Chapter 5: Greed
The fourth circle of hell is reserved for those who are guilty of the sin of greed. They are guarded by the god Plutus, though they are too preoccupied to try and leave. There, they attempt to push around huge rocks, manifestations of their possessions, in an attempt to attack each other. So wrapped up are they with their "possession" they do not notice anything or anyone. There is a painting that depicts the death of a greedy man, Death and the Miser. The miser is shown hoarding his worldly belongings, and yet, he too is greeted by the inevitable: the punishment of painful death. His greed preventing mercy from above. At least, that's what they teach at the Art History course at Garden.
Cid Kramer was a greedy man. Cid Kramer was a coward. Cid Kramer was a…liability.
Icy blue eyes shot open, tendrils of magic dispersing as he blinked the fog of sleep from his mind. His dream had ended, Rinoa was gone. But the magic – remained. He was empowered, energy literally tingling at his fingertips. Clutching his hand to contain the power, the lights in his apartment flickered slightly. It was a clear message of what his next move should be.
Hyne needed another sacrifice.
"Edea, dear, the tea is ready." Cid Kramer took the kettle off the orphanage stove.
The kitchen was quiet, his surroundings peaceful. Far cry from the hustle and bustle of Balamb Garden – and it was just how he liked it. He figured he would officially retire soon. Honestly, he hadn't been back at Garden in months. Most of the cadets and staff considered him retired, he had basically handed over the Garden (without asking if they wanted it) to Quistis, Xu, Nida, and Squall.
Squall.
There was a slight problem there. Squall was the feather in his cap, his greatest accomplishment. Cid had been putting motions into place to make sure the Commander would have his head on straight and the distraction of the Sorceress would not be in his way. Even though Cid himself had been married to a Sorceress, he held no warm feelings towards Rinoa. She was a nuisance. He regretted ever sending Squall on the mission to Timber – it never dawned on him that his stoic soldier would fall for the fickle, foolish General's daughter. She was completely in the way of Cid's most prized possession: Squall.
The door opened, but it wasn't Edea who walked into the old stone building. Cid heard the most terrifying two words he would ever hear in his life.
"Hello, Headmaster."
"Where's Edea?" Cid asked carefully, his hand reaching for the phone he kept in his pocket. The still-steaming kettle, hastily dropped after Squall had startled him, poured its contents onto the stone floor, the boiling water seeping into the dusty grout between the tiles.
"That's a bad idea, Headmaster." Squall stated coolly, lifting his gunblade and pointing it at Cid's neck. He motioned with his free hand. "Sit down. I think it's time we had a little chat."
Cid gulped and conceded, sitting in the wooden chair he normally ate breakfast in with his wife. He folded his trembling hands in his lap submissively. He was a coward, after all, and didn't dare take on the imposing Commander before him. The SeeD was capable of just about anything – and that made Cid very, very afraid. The look on the young man's face was stern. But there was something else. Fury, carefully hidden behind his stoic façade.
Unbridled and unhinged fury.
Cid had to look closely, as he was used to trying to read Squall's sometimes-mysterious social cues, but it was there. Smoldering just beneath the surface. He briefly considered calling for help, but somewhere deep inside, he knew it would go unanswered.
Squall strode forward, planting one of his boots directly on Cid's chest. The old man's body strained against the back of the squeaking chair as the Commander pinned him. Squall grabbed the phone from Cid's pocket, and released his hold. He dropped it to the floor and crushed it under his boot with a satisfying crunch.
"Where's Edea?" Cid asked again, shifting nervously.
Squall nonchalantly pointed to the window with the tip of his gunblade. Never taking his eyes off Cid. Edea was wandering in the flower fields, dazed. She was frolicking in circles, then would stop and stare at the sky. Her mouth gaped open as if she were trying to communicate, but there was nothing but silence. Eyes vacant. Face slack.
Confused and muted. Permanently. Thanks to Squall's Sorceress magic. No esuna would be powerful enough to break what he had done to her – unless cast by Squall himself – or possibly Rinoa.
Squall sneered at Cid. "Let's get one thing straight," he said, before burying his fist into Cid's stomach. "I'm asking the questions here."
Cid leaned forward and vomited on the floor from the force of the punch. Apparently, he had tomato soup for lunch – though it was now both on the floor and dribbling down his chin. The acrid smell of bile filled the small kitchen. His head swam, a wave of heat flushing his face as he tried to blow out a calming breath. His stomach still lurched, and Cid was barely aware of Squall tying his arms and legs to the chair.
"Hyne you're pathetic." Squall said as he expertly tied the knots. Pulling them taught so they cut into the flesh of the still-heaving man's wrists. Blood began to stain the fibers of the rope. "You can't even handle one punch? This will be too easy."
All SeeDs had torture training, and yet the Headmaster could barely handle a small amount of pressure. Cruel irony. Not only was he a coward, he was a weak coward.
Squall stood before him and landed a jab across Cid's face. The glasses fell off, cracking in two at the bridge. One of the lenses shattered, sending tiny bits of glass into the headmaster's cheek. Cid whimpered, nose and lip bleeding. Blood-tinged saliva dripped from the corner of his mouth, an aftereffect of the punch induced vomiting. The metallic taste threatened to make him throw up once more.
"You make little kids go through SeeD training, you send teenagers to their deaths for money…and you can't handle a fucking punch?" Squall followed up with another strike across Cid's face that left his ears ringing and his vision blurry.
Fully concussed.
"Steal our memories. Use orphans under the guise of salvation for the unwanted. Turn us into killers. And yet, you can't even shoot a gun."
"We saved you all from a life of hardship, one of abandonment! Gave you a home, an education. A…family." Tears – perhaps sincere, perhaps not – welled into the corner of Cid's eyes.
Family.
Family?
Just the sound of the word made Squall bristle with rage. The only family he needed – or wanted – was Rinoa. No one else mattered. He was readying to punch Cid's face again, but paused, knowing another hit would likely knock the man fully unconscious. It was most definitely not that time. Yet. Instead, the Commander went behind the whimpering sniveling Headmaster and knelt. He pulled a pair of pliers from his pocket and pressed the tip into Cid's nailbed.
Slow. Deliberate. He continued to apply pressure into the nailbed at the cuticle until Cid was crying from pain.
"You even ran away when things got hard…" Squall continued. "Abandoned us."
"Please, Squall…" Cid's tone was pleading. "You've got to understand. All my life, all I've ever wanted to do was help you children. Everything I did… I did it out of love!"
"Love?" Squall let out a barking laugh, his voice echoing off the stone walls of the kitchen. Birds that were perched on the roof outside scattered. "The only thing you love is the money clients pay you."
"I was protecting you!"
Squall yanked on Cid's hand, forcing the bindings further into his already raw and bleeding wrist. The point of the pliers shook as the young Commander trembled with anger. When he finally spoke, after what seemed like an eternity, his voice was eerily calm and laced with venom.
"You. Fucking. Coward."
With those words, Squall removed the pressure from the nailbed. A short moment of reprieve before he wrenched the old man's hands awkwardly, forcing his fingers into a more preferable position. He clamped the tip of the pliers onto one of Cid's fingernails, just long enough to hold tightly.
Cid writhed in pain, crying, "Squall….please….you're like a son…."
Son.
Son?
He was no man's son.
Squall scoffed and pulled harder, the nail beginning to separate from the delicate sensitive skin underneath. His voice was smooth and commanding. Filled with a haunting calmness. Calculation. Disguised encouragement. "Tell me what the GFs do."
"What they do?" Cid was genuinely confused by the question. "You… you know what they do! Your SeeD education ensures that!"
Squall kicked one of the chair leg's, jarring the headmaster's body. His head snapped forward with the momentum and he let out a pitiful, pained grunt. "What do they tell you?"
"Wh…What?" Cid shook his head in disbelief. "I don't understand!"
Squall slapped Cid in the back of the head. "You're running out of time, Headmaster."
"I…I…you've got it all wrong!"
The Commander pulled harder on the pliers, blood beginning to seep from the exposed skin of the nailbed.
"You know what they do! They… augment soldiers! Help! They help in battle!" Cid screamed out, tears of agony running down his flushed face. "They don't tell me anything! How can they? Please, Squall, sto—"
"Wrong answer." Squall ripped the nail fully off, to Cid's horror. Blood dripped onto the floor below him. "You're a rotten liar, Cid Kramer."
"I swear it's the truth!" Cid trembled, even as he plead to be released.
"One more chance, Headmaster. Before I get vindictive…" Squall tore off another nail without warning and held the bloodied pliers in front of Cid's face for him to squirm.
"Alright!" Cid cried like a pathetic infant. "I…they don't report! The memories, they eat them! They devour your brains, turn you into machines of war. They are gone. Forever. I swear."
Squall chuckled darkly. Of course the GFs were parasitic. And of course, Cid was perfectly fine allowing eleven and twelve-year-olds to invite that parasite into their brain. Some father figure. He guessed Cid had never bothered junctioning one himself, just put it upon his "children". Test subjects that trusted him. They'd never question him. He was only looking out for their best interest, ensuring they'd be protected in the battles of their lives.
Or so they'd always been told.
By a man they trusted.
"N-now that I've told you," Cid pleaded weakly. "…will you untie me? We can talk about this rationally, like men."
"Men?" Squall whispered ominously. "You're not a man, Headmaster. You're a monster." He rounded the chair and dropped the bloodied pliers at Cid's feet. Squall crackled his knuckles, thundaga arcing on his fingertips. He was desperately trying to control his anger. He still needed more information.
Cid's eyes widened as he saw the spell threatening to explode from Squall's hands. "You're junctioned?"
Squall squatted so he was eye-level with the Headmaster, an evil grin on his face. "No."
He deliberately placed a finger on Cid's chest, concentrating the spell to course into the man's heart. The lightning raced across the nerves of the heart, short circuiting it, mimicking an infarction. Not enough to kill him, but enough to damage the organ and cause Cid excruciating pain.
Cid gasped for air as his heart beat erratically, not receiving proper electrical signals. It felt as if a behemoth was sitting on his chest and squeezing the air out of him.
Squall abruptly pulled his hand back before he accidently killed the man. He wanted him to suffer a little more, after all. And he needed more information. He had done enough damage to the heart that Cid would be in constant chest pain with breathing and any minor movement. The pathetic organ was barely giving enough oxygenated blood to itself, let alone the rest of the body.
"What are your plans for Rinoa?" Squall's voice was powerful. Demanding.
"P-plans?" Cid shuddered, his voice warbling. Speaking was now becoming painful. His eyes threatened to flutter shut. "I…don't understand."
Squall struck him across the face abruptly, and one of his teeth when rocketing out of his mouth. It clattered to the floor just before the stove, a small spray of blood speckling the white ceramic coating of the oven door. "I'm really getting tired of these games, Headmaster..."
"She…she agreed." Cid wheezed out.
"…to what?"
"She…agreed. It was… the only way…to let her stay at Garden." It hurt to talk, Cid just wanted to fall asleep. "Safety…for all…"
"What are you talking about?" Fast as lightning, Squall grabbed the pliers at Cid's feet and jabbed them through the top of the man's thigh, breaking the skin and burying deep into the tissue. "Wake up, old man. I'm not done!" He slowly opened the pliers, pulling apart the wound from the inside, tearing through muscle and sinew.
The pain was enough to jolt Cid back to reality, howling in pain while gasping for air. "Odine! Odine!"
Squall was caught off guard and stopped the pressure on the pliers. "Odine?"
Cid let out a small chuckle. "You…you…didn't know…?"
Squall lunged for the Headmaster, enraged, wrapping his hand around the man's throat. Still tied to the chair, Cid could do nothing but writhe in his restraints. Tendrils of electricity flickered across Squall's skin as he squeezed. "What are you talking about?" He hissed.
"She…agreed!" Cid gasped, eyes bulging. Small blood vessels in his eyes began to burst from the pressure of his struggling, staining the white sclera to a terrifying red. "I told her… she had to see Odine if…if she wanted to stay…at Garden! To…help her…control…"
The Commander suddenly let go, leaving Cid to splutter and choke as oxygen returned to his lungs. He stared at his hands, thin trails of smoke wisping up from his fingertips, one lone spark of thundaga fizzling out as his energy waned.
Cid had forced Rinoa see Odine.
Threatened.
Behind his back.
She never told him.
She never told him.
For over a year.
Squall felt like he had been punched in the gut.
Why wouldn't she tell him?
…because he would react exactly like this.
How would he have reacted at her?
Squall's rage was overpowering every rational thought he had left.
Hyne only knew what Odine had her doing - or had been doing to her.
It was time.
The Commander turned back to face the Headmaster. Cid's face was ruddy with fear, with confusion. The old man stared at him, eyes pleading. "We can fix this, Squall. Together. Find a way for everyone to move on…"
Squall wordlessly pulled a small blade from a sheath around his leg and swiftly stabbed Cid in the stomach, slowly carving the blade to his left.
Cid gasped in shock, gurgles of blood rising in his throat. Soon, the scarlet liquid dribbled from the corners of his mouth. He said nothing.
He didn't have to.
"You never had any guts, Headmaster," Squall said calmly as he pulled the blade out, Cid's innards spilling out of the wound. The room suddenly took on the stench of blood and viscera, metallic and sour.
Cid Kramer would die slowly and painfully as the acid from his stomach slowly ate away at his organs. A coward's death.
"Enjoy eternity with your wife."
Plunging his hand into the wound he created, Squall ripped the gall bladder from its connection to the liver, pulling it from Cid's slowly fading body. "I'll take this."
He turned around and stalked out.
Blood pooled beneath Cid's body as it took him excruciating hours to die, bile dripping from his stomach, staining the stone floor of the orphanage. Edea blissfully twirled and danced around his body, eternally insane.
If anyone ever happened to come visit the orphanage, which was unlikely, they would immediately blame a crazed Edea for Cid's murder. Maybe the Sorceress power had reemerged from within her? Confused and mute, she'd never be able to defend herself. She'd be put on trial. Executed. An image that had been restored after the second Sorceress' War – sullied again, never to regain its former glory.
Squall returned to the Sorceress Memorial so he could offer his latest sacrifice to Hyne and Rinoa. He knelt before his makeshift altar, ready with his latest offering. Digging a small hole beside the larger mound that contained the head of Laguna Loire, he buried Cid's stolen gall bladder.
He prayed Hyne's forgiveness for his sins and knew absolution would be found through Rinoa: the heir.
Dies iræ, dies illa
Solvet sæclum in favilla
He chanted softly, feeling Hyne's mercy wash over him. He felt at peace, knowing Rinoa was now just a little safer.
A/N: First and foremost. Thank you to my amazing beta, bebedora. This chapter literally was nothing before she got her hands on it. If you've ever read her stuff (which you should) you should know she knows how to torture people.
The painting Death and the Miser is a painting by Hieronymus Bosch and hangs in the National Gallery of Art in Washington, DC. You'd be surprised to know it was painted in the 15th century - yet like most of Bosch's paintings, it looks like he could have been a contemporary of Dali - the guy had a really really vivid imagination.