Kingdom Hearts Fan Fiction ❯ Before the Fall ❯ Break My Stride ( Chapter 9 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Would she ever forgive him? Even tried to coax the lump in his throat to dissipate. It only seemed to enlarge the more he gazed at the door before his vision, however. His hand shook as he raised it to the knob and tested it discreetly. It was unlocked, but even that small reassurance didn’t lighten the mood. ‘Any minute now, Even…wake up.’

He felt trapped in a nightmare. Every fiber in his body admitted submission; there would be no simplicity in resolving this. If helpless had been a word to describe him when he discovered how the heartless experiments were affecting Raine’s life, he wondered what declaration described his feelings now? He gently pushed the door open…
‘Anywh ere but here,’ Even thought unconsciously wrapping his arms around himself. It appeared as if he was trying to ward off a sudden chill, and perhaps that assumption wasn’t too far off. He stood in a neutral position between the observation window and various machinery associated with the underground laboratory he had come to stand in. Why hadn’t he just complained of his arm troubling him? That’s right…He didn’t need to seem a coward and his colleagues needed him. They found support in their set of five.

Five against one, promising odds, or so appearances seemed. No one, not even Ansem could boast about knowing the mysterious man named Xehanort. He had been amongst them a year, and just now they were realizing the terror he hid behind his façade. Were the other’s somehow responsible for the change they were witnessing? This was not the scared man who had abruptly entered their lives, no memories to aid him. Was he even human anymore?

Such thoughts were unwanted, but they surfaced as a tense silence engulfed the five. They stared expectantly at Xehanort. The man just gazed away from them, a lopsided grin plastered on his face. He seemed so innocent.

All were aware that Xehanort knew of the observation he was under. He would, nonetheless, speak whenever he chose so. Secretly he basked in the fact that the longer he was quiet the more on edge his partners became. He saw them, huddled, closely a short distance away from him. They definitely felt uncomfortable around him. He wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or elated by that.

They seemed to shun the presence of any of the tools and machines in the area, as if they were cursed. And to them, they were, without any doubt. Unbidden memories and other unwanted sentiments coursed down their spines with just a mere brush. One feeling, awoken by just the sight of the interior of the underground lab, stood out sorely from the rest. Foolishness, they scolded themselves harshly for ever agreeing to follow the deranged man before them. How could they have been so blind? Certainly even the most trusting person would refuse to have been lead without any foresight, so why them? Wasn’t it too late to try to redeem themselves?

“Aeleus, Ienzo,” Xehanort spoke, his voice laced with dull interest.

Both men had their attention on the man before they could stop themselves. They did not turn away, there was already undeniable evidence that they were hesitant around him. It was a solid entity in the air.

“Please retrieve the subject in cell 8-E.” The duo heard him, but they stood frozen for a moment, apparently too long of a pause because Xehanort smiled gently, something beyond his character. “Don’t worry it’s nothing new. Just an average experiment.” They found little comfort in those words. Coming from Xehanort, those words were spoken too casually, and that never boded well. Despite this, though, Ienzo and Aeleus retreated from the room and into the dark hallways of cells.

“It’s stifling.”

Aeleus spoke as their footsteps echoed down the corridors. Some prisoners, upon hearing the footsteps and voice of their captors instantly threw themselves against their confining bars. Their voices shrieked with melancholy, hope, and desperation. Others merely moaned, their faith no longer there. These were among the oldest captors, who had witnessed many a soul leave with the two men now passing and never return. Aeleus had to close his eyes against this torment, just as he had to every time he entered. It made him sick to imagine the limbo they were stuck in. The smell of unkempt human waste didn’t help his stomach either. There are no excuses for such treatment!

Ienzo took in every face. He could not look away, no matter how much he wished to. They seemed to draw his attention and he felt something within him crack. How many more of these innocents were to perish? And once again, how had he and the others been blinded so? There seemed no hope for forgiveness. None of these souls could be freed with just a flick of the wrist. The apprentices admitted guilt, but they would not yet allow for their cover to be blown.

“Save as many as you can while we try and stop this,” Braig had spoken these words not too long ago to everyone of them as they met in the library away from Xehanort’s measuring gaze.

"The air is stifling." Aeleus spoke again, his words whispered but amplified by the confinement of the metallic walls.

“Stifling? How so? Do you mean the air or-”

“The blanket of anguish.”

“So you sense it too? Yes, now we are met with the accusing eyes first-hand. It was easy to be brave before…Now you’re knees weaken. You see their suffering and you feel it with a new force. What’s a few lives to save humanity? But we’re not helping anyone…no one but Xehanort.”

Aeleus nodded penitently at his companion, “We proved more gullible than little children.”

Ienzo said nothing in response, instead he halted and glanced around. “This is 8-D…so…” His gaze found the adjoining cell. Aeleus stepped forward and released the latch with the correct code. He pulled the clipboard from the wall in the low light and read the name silently before glancing into the shadows.

“Ms. Ogles…we’re here to retrieve you.”

There was a sob and then a shuffle. Ienzo was at Aeleus’ side to watch as the woman emerged, but a strangled sound mutated his throat as an expression of horror and anxiety glazed his features.

The woman emerged and her eyes were tear-stained. “Spare me, please…until the child is born.”

Both men’s eyes were latched onto her swollen abdomen, which caught the little light in the place. There was nothing to fake the altered appearance.

Ienzo spoke, his voice cracking in some agonized control, “Ma’am how…um…far along are you?”

There was no response, and the men did not seem to care. The clipboard Aeleus had held fell with a clatter to the floor and they bolted the cell again. With one accord they moved to retrieve the person in cell 8-D. They shared no words as they dragged the dejected man who offered no compliant.

They forced their faces to blank expressions, worked to freshen their complexions as the sight of the pregnant woman had caused their faces to become ashen. They pulled the man into the light of the lab and he gave only a groan of pain at being exposed to light after perhaps a month in almost darkness.

Xehanort turned to the two men, a bemused smirk on his face. “I said I wanted to person in 8-E,” he chided softly.

“Ael, I told you it was 8-E.” Ienzo said, hoping his act was convincing.

It took nothing for the man to mirror genuine embarrassment, “Sorry, my mistake. I thought for sure it was 8-D.”

Xehanort took a small step towards the duo, the others watching in morbid terror. It was then that the two under scrutiny realized it. He knew their game, but they continued their pretending, theirs was a common mistake after all, purposeful or not.

“You heard me quite clearly and you are plainly aware of it.”

He smirked in obvious amusement, at their attempts to trick him. He knew the exact condition of the woman he had sent them to fetch. He hypothesized that she was seven months into her pregnancy, which made her a perfect test for the two men before him. Ienzo despised working on anything that held a life within it, and Aeleus, he was a moralist among the six and perhaps the most ethical. If they had simply brought the delicate woman out, he might have spared her, knowing the youngest would argue violently, but they had defied his wishes and brought the man from the adjoining cell.

He chuckled darkly; he’d always wondered what would happen if he coursed darkness through a mother and her unborn offspring. He stared at Aeleus, whose face showed no guilt to Ienzo who seemed repulsed that Xehanort would dare question a mistake so simply done. Xehanort was not deceived, unfortunately. So their loyalty was dwindling, if not already gone.

“Ienzo,” he smiled in sick pleasure as he placed a hand gently upon the boy’s shoulder, “Aeleus.” His honey eyes flicked up to the other man. “I commend you for your trickery but there is no use lying…Tell me why you decided this man was better than the one in 8-E?”

“Xehanort, I know you must be a little disappointed, but I assure you it was a-”“Was it because the poor girl was pregnant?”

Xehanort removed his hand, and his eyes flashed in knowing passion at the look of shock that passed Aeleus’ face when he cut him off with the accusation. Ienzo’s face became pallid and he immediately released the limp arm of the captured man, who had passed out long ago from fear.

“Surprised I knew?”

Ienzo’s fists clenched, “You bastard!”

Xehanort stepped back a small distance from the youngest as he stewed in his anger. The remaining, Aeleus included, could not hide their shock nor the sudden pang of self-reproach struck within.

“You couldn’t shove your morals away, Ienzo? What happened to ‘for the purpose of science’?”

“Those subjects weren’t alive, furthermore they were animals! We’re not talking about animals here. That woman is a living, breathing, human! She’s capable of intelligent thought, not merely the instinct based decisions those of the animal kingdom make.”

“Aren’t you the least bit interested in what would happen to her and the child if exposed to high levels of dark essence? C’mon-”“NO! STOP THIS!”

Xehanort’s eyes widened in pure amazement as he whipped from Ienzo’s heated glare to meet the cold, violet gaze of the most sober apprentice. Dilan frowned, his cheeks crimson in his anger.

“How dare you, a woman and a child?! We followed you, but just by saying those words you push too far. Xehanort, have you no humanity?” There was a pause where Dilan’s cheeks lost their fire, “You see them as nothing but lab subjects, don’t you? A status equal to the animals we were dissecting.”

“They are just humans wrenches, taken from the dredges of society, why even that woman…She was a harlot, tempting men just to earn a meager living.”

“That matters not,” Aeleus spoke; he dropped the man’s other arm, “she is human…and some of the greatest achievers of our society were once nothing but trash.”

Xehanort walked forward once again and stared down at the unconscious man, “Oh, forgive me…you and Ienzo, you came from the lowest slums on the Garden. That must have hurt.”

Braig growled at Xehanort’s giddy tone, no remorse at all. “What would you know? You don’t even have the memories to remember where you came from. You could have had it worse than them.”

Those words, gruff and laden with barely restrained anger struck a chord in Xehanort. He whipped around and before anyone could stop him he was in front of Braig. He glared at the man, but Even’s whimsical rejoinder stopped him from doing the man any harm.

“Oh, forgive us…You must have had it hard. That must’ve stung.” Xehanort turned then to Even, intent clearly set to abuse, only to find that his four other partners had surrounded him.

“How does it feel to have your words turned on you, Xehanort?” Dilan cocked an eyebrow in aggravating inquiry. Xehanort’s mouth formed a deep frown, and his teeth clenched. His eyes became a liquid fire that threaten to engulf the other apprentices, but they stood strong.

Finally Xehanort surrendered his glare and turned to the man Ienzo and Aeleus had brought. He smirked insanely as he nimbly picked the man up and turned back to the group.

“Why have you suddenly decided to turn on me? You are in far too deep. You have killed just as many as I. You think you’ll be forgiven? No matter how you plan to redeem yourselves you will forever be marked with distain…and just imagine…how those you hold dear will react when they discover that you all had a hand in the disappearances.” His gaze sought out Even’s and his mouth twitched in satisfaction at the oldest who cringed slightly. “And won’t master Ansem be disappointed. Tsk, tsk, tsk, there’s no way out now.”

“Oh the injustice that comes from inquisitive minds,” Braig declared loudly, “that for every terrible crime we committed hope remained that good would ultimately shine down upon us! Insipid were we to agree to such folly." His features hardened despite the despair of recrimination, "This isn’t about recovering your memories or helping society anymore though, is it?!”

Xehanort’s maniacal grin widened. “It never was. And you all fell for every word and reason I gave you. Really I can see it as the four of you merely wanting an excuse, the desire to do these tabooed experiments always within you. You may try now and impress with some faux bravado but to have participated marks you for the condemned. It will not change even if you think this spark of self righteousness will give you courage to turn against me. I don’t need my useless memories anymore! I have a promise much more satisfying. Darkness has offered me power! And I intend to see what it can truly do."

He turned and walked back the way Ienzo and Aeleus had come, carrying their prisoner all the while. The apprentices were frozen to their spots in disbelief. The man, someone who they had come to almost idolize had just obliquely admitted to using them. Every last dwindling hope it was they that were going mad instead of Xehanort was forever silenced. He had lost his mind.

A man without memories searched for something to fill the emptiness left. He was suppose to find his memories, but they had made a mistake, a dire one. Ansem and the five of them allowed Xehanort to aid them, used him as a subject. They only wanted to help, but they had created a monster. They were at fault for the change in the man. They had given a greedy man, ravenous for his memories, an excellent substitute. They had introduced him to the power darkness endowed. He wanted more, no, he wanted it all. He wanted all the power, all the knowledge, everything. And he would destroy and overcome every obstacle no matter the cost to reach his goal.

They had aided in the creation of a beast.

This realization dumped a truth upon them and instantly the room seemed to drop in temperature. What had they done? What had they done?! Their eyes- all nine of them- were staring in horror at the heavy door that lead to the cells, and they remained immobile, even as the door was opening.

Xehanort stepped from the archway, his original victim in tow. She screamed in inner agony and vainly tried to claw her way from the bigger man’s hold. But she was too weak and he too strong. Ienzo was at a loss for words as he gawked in untainted horror; his mouth gaped open like a fish as he tried to speak, but nothing came out. In total frustration with himself he violently brought his hands to his head, his nails digging into his flesh as he focused his gaze to the floor. It was too much!

Xehanort showed no pain at the woman’s attempts to free herself from his grasp. He quite easily raised his twisted gaze to the uneasy group watching him. “If only you had brought her out from the beginning,” he beamed darkly, “I may have spared her until the birth, but you just had to defy my orders didn’t you?”

"You're orders?! I'll be damned if I should pretend to listen to you further now that your bifurcated tongue and tail have emerged."

If Aeleus’ outburst had been a shock, Xehanort showed no signs of it. He just shook his head and stared down at the woman in his arms, who had given up fighting and only whimpered and moaned. He held both of her wrists in one of his hands. With the other hand he gently caressed her flushed cheek.

“Look well into the faces just watching us…Remember, that because of their mistake you’re now in line for a journey to Hell. Such a pity for you, and yet what a bevy of gains I may in turn receive from it.”

Her eyes, those wide, forlorn orbs stared in lost hope at the men; they did not leave their faces, even as Xehanort dragged her across the floor. Ostensibly pulled by a united force, the men followed promptly in their estranged comrade’s footsteps, including Ienzo who had reclaimed control of himself and now wore a face of complete rage. Down the stairs to the slab that was then occupied by the expecting woman; Xehanort was strapping her down tightly. She was despondent, all fighting evaporated from her frame.

And her eyes still stared at them, a sorrowful mirror. They made no movements.

“Finally interested now? You cannot fight your nature I suppose…Unfortunate, for I am long at grudges and it will take a long period for your rebellion to be forgotten. I will pardon you, however.”

He had turned by this point, his hand creeping towards the lever that spelled the woman’s fate. He was a breath away from achieving the personal goal when a hand latched onto his extended wrist. He couldn’t help but hiss at the force exerted on the limb. He clasped the capturing hand with his free one, nonetheless, and ripped it away.

He pivoted to glare at Ienzo who returned this expression. He rubbed his throbbing wrist vaguely and his eyes spat at the younger, “What do you think you were doing?” Ienzo merely replied by stepping forward, no clear intent obvious. His movements were sudden.

He curled his knee and instantly it found itself lodged in Xehanort’s gut. Xehanort groaned and faltered a step forward. But it had not been enough, and very soon that was evident.

Xehanort straightened quick enough, swifter than Ienzo, and before the youngest could even express shock at the resiliency the man possessed he found his world spinning. Xehanort open-handedly smacked the boy across the face, sending him careening backwards. The power behind the slap did not have to be as extensive as it had been, with the distance separating the two men being short, but that fact didn‘t seem to cross Xehanort’s mind.

Ienzo’s stumble was finally stopped by a table used as a decoy when Ansem periodically came to check on them. His side met the edge and with a loud yelp he descended to the ground. The sharp corner of the table tore his powder blue button-up easily and dug into the skin. A gash cleanly formed from his hip to his shoulder blade. His head then met the table’s surface rather harshly, forming another laceration from his eyebrow to his temple.

Aeleus was at the boy’s side within a moment, stopping him from impacting the floor with the same velocity.

Xehanort stared at the disgruntled boy in amused amazement. There was no hiding the humor he found at Ienzo’s rashness. He pressed a hand to his stomach, acknowledging the blow he had been served did in fact hurt him, but not so sufficient as to wipe the satisfied appearance from his face. The boy groaned.

Dilan's eyes glanced in-between the youngest and newest apprentice. When they settled back on Xehanort they narrowed noticeably, and then a hand was placed on his shoulder. His abrupt movements brought him face-to-face with Braig.

Braig was glaring at Xehanort with equal abhorrence. He tightened his grip on Dilan’s arm before darting towards the snowy-locked man. Dilan, it seemed, took off simultaneously with him. They were upon Xehanort just as he turned his vision back to the other’s, a challenge written plainly within his eyes. Dilan and Braig had arisen to the test even before he had offered.

Braig tackled him. Xehanort grunted, all air forced from his lungs as he met with the floor. He had no sooner regained his senses and breath when Dilan roughly landed on his abdomen, elbow positioned so as to create as much injury as his weight and speed could. Xehanort rose his blurred but defiant gaze to Dilan’s whose flashed in revulsion.

Dilan pulled a hand back and with a closed fist, descended upon Xehanort’s face twice. Xehanort did not voice the pain, his instinct to counter his assailant awaking. He moved to strike back despite the fact his lip was bleeding profusely. He raised slightly only to discover he could not move his upper body. Braig held his arms down.

Dilan smirked down at him in triumph. Xehanort’s left eye was bruising around the socket and his lip wasn’t a pretty sight at all. This man deserved every ounce of pain and more. He was going to have thank Braig for holding the man down; definitely not the proper etiquette of dueling, but there was no rules to follow any more. His hits had found their targets, and Xehanort groaned, abruptly aware of the pain. Suddenly however, in the blink of an eye the tables were turned again.

His upper body may have been pinned, but his lower could endure under more strength. Xehanort bucked his stomach and chest upward and Dilan lost his balance and toppled off giving him room enough to bring his legs into play and raring back to plant a boot against Braig's head. Braig was momentarily stunned and Xehanort used this opportunity to wrench his hands from their iron clasps.

Xehanort was on the offensive now bounding forward and crashing into Dilan, straddling him, and swiftly working on repaying every punch he'd received. His prisoner, however, was not hindered in any other way and he, being stronger than the man perched upon his midsection was able to throw him off. He staggered to his feet then used the mass of his body as a bulwark to bring down Xehanort who was trying to escape from arm's reach.

Braig, not missing a beat as he recovered, crouched forward and released the springs in his legs to speed his way back in to the brawl. He may have appeared lanky, but he was stronger than Xehanort had calculated. He aimed to do far worse damage to the man than simply throw him off balance. Once again, restrained, this time with Dilan imprisoning his arms and Braig on his legs Xehanort was helpless. Rapid, there so no way to describe Braig’s war plan. His fists collided with devastating velocity onto the immobilized man. Xehanort was shortly thereafter knocked breathless by the fierceness of the attack. Did he expect help? He would receive none, and he was delusional if he anticipated any.

Even could not join the scuffle between Braig, Dilan, and Xehanort. He also saw that Aeleus needed no assistance with Ienzo; the boy wasn’t brutally injured. His turquoise eyes thus fell upon the woman whose plotted demise had began this chaotic night. He was the only one at the moment who could help her, and for her and the child’s sakes he would. He’d be damned if he let Xehanort succeed in his sick plans.

The woman was unresponsive even as Even began to work on loosening the straps of leather that detained her atop the block. She stared off above her, her eyes glassy and faraway. It was hard work trying to pull the ties away with only one functioning arm, but he was a diligent worker and did not become discouraged.

He paused only a moment to stare into the face of the woman. His heart drummed in his ears and his stomach sank; he could never imagine the feeling of hopelessness she must have felt. She was going through something worse than him, there was no questioning that. A tug on the straps beneath his fingers awoken him from his reverie.

Aeleus, content that Ienzo would be fine turned his observant gaze on the scene erupting around him. Dilan and Braig were more than capable of dealing with Xehanort on their own, but as his eyes alighted on Even, he knew the man needed aid. He crossed the distance and acted. He offered Even only a nod.

Ienzo pulled himself carefully to his feet, trying to avoid thinking on the consequences suffered from his rash actions. He found he met no resistance from his body other than slight pain and his eyes found the bedlam that welcomed his return. He moved to join Even and Aeleus’ effort to free the female, but his movements froze as his two companions attacking Xehanort released the man, who now lay limply.

They stepped back cautiously watching the battered man for any movement. Ienzo joined them at their side. Even and Aeleus also had gathered with the other men, their task only momentarily put aside. They waited in baited anxiety for any sign from their fallen member.

His lip had not stopped bleeding, but dried blood was already marring his face as Xehanort stilled. Let his mislead “friends” believe him down for the count. He felt the weights lifted from his body, yet he continued to retain his immobile position. It was a long and tense wait as he sensed all eyes upon him. He raised an arm, testing the extent of damage he had been doled. His fingers moved and with a careful movement he shifted to lay on his stomach.

It was painful, he could feel the bruises already forming on and within his abdominal cavity. He gritted his teeth and gingerly lifted his upper body with his arms. His golden orbs focused on the faces of his comrades turned enemies in mere minutes. He maneuvered to a sitting posture and leaned back against the control panel behind him.

Electricity sizzled in his mind. His bloodied lips quirked up into a maddening smile. Those ignorant buffoons; they had placed him right where he began. He would simply have to reach up and pull the switch above him and darkness would course like volts through the woman’s and baby’s bodies. He glared up at the observers from beneath his disheveled ivory bangs, the expression of triumph painting his face. He chuckled.

‘Those idiots don’t comprehend their mistake…I guess it's time to show them.’

Leisurely Xehanort’s right hand ascended the platform and wrapped tightly around the lever. It was then, to his disturbed delight, that the other apprentices became aware of their lethal error.

Ienzo shuddered and without a word spun on his feet and sprinted in the opposite direction. He made it as far as the stairs before the woman’s screams and Xehanort’s vile laughter filled the air. He didn’t offer a glance back, terrified of what he might have seen had he done so.

Braig followed the young man, fully conscious of the effects this was going to his on his adolescent psyche. The lad was barely a man. He almost blanched at the sound escaping from the tortured woman’s lips. Never had he heard such agony and he doubted he would ever witness such again.

Aeleus and Dilan, both watched in horror-ridden guilt. After he had pulled the bar as far as possible, however, they pounced on Xehanort. They planned not to kill the man, but wound him so he would not escape the next day.

Even was the solitary figure who did not move. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. He couldn’t. Gaping, his eyes were locked in morbid horror upon the suffering woman. He fought to activate his body; he wanted to see anything but this.

The woman’s eyes stared right through him, no emotions glistening in them. They were dead. Even felt faint. The woman’s screams were just whispers to him. Far more terrifying was the physical change she was undergoing. He watched, incapable of any movements as her mouth opened, to release her soul, heart, everything to the heavens. His body began to tremble, and he knew that any moment he would pass out. The woman was still alive, and Even knew why.

She wasn’t shrieking in pain from darkness, though it was affecting her. Her hands which Even and Aeleus had managed to free moved to her stomach. Even felt his head shaking. No, no it couldn’t be-the woman was acting as a kind of incubator. That child was no longer anything human. She was screaming in pain from the change underway within. A curdling sound gushed from the woman’s midsection as it was roughly cleaved open.

Crimson splashed everywhere. It overflowed from the tremendous chasm that had been the woman’s lower body. Blood stained her measly clothes and gushed in a torrential current over the slab and into the floor. Even vaguely realized that Dilan and Aeleus had halted in beating Xehanort to the point of collapsing. They too had their eyes fixed upon the woman.

Darkness had not murdered her. Her body was still intact. It did not fade away like all the others. This woman had been a sacrifice to the life within her. She stared, her eyes fixed in their position and appearance. Pain and horror; luckily she was no longer in this world to greet her assassin.

The solid mass of darkness that arose from her stomach held no definite shape. It’s colorless eyes preyed upon the trio of men, petrified in their guilty fascination. It gurgled as it too held stationary. It’s guttural moans ascended abruptly to a high pitch after a moment. The thing, Even realized, was too weak. Darkness was too unstable within the body of a still maturing fetus. In a vessel such as that there was no nothing to possess, the child was innocent. In that infantile heart there was no darkness, there was absolutely nothing.

This whole ordeal from the moment Ienzo had sprinted off with Braig close at his heels till now had only spanned perhaps two minutes. The darkened mass wailed; it imploded and what was left of its body convulsed.

There are moments in life where it seems everything slows. As Even watched the demise of the woman upon the slab, it was one of those moments. Awareness was ushered back without hesitation, though, when he made out scraping on the floor. His body finally moved and he turned in accord with Aeleus and Dilan to witness Xehanort picking himself up.

The man’s sanity-depraved eyes flickered between the trio and the deceased woman. He did not smile outwardly, but his gaze spoke volumes. Dilan advanced upon him; Xehanort tensed expecting the blow. But he was excessively weak and Dilan’s attempt to kick his feet out from beneath him worked. He gasped and the last thing he knew was seeing the lever before his head crashed into the control panel.

“Dilan,” Aeleus grabbed the man’s arm roughly to gain his attention, “as much as I believed he deserved that, it is in no way proper to kick a man while he’s down.”

Dilan sniffed and turned his stare to the body, “I hope the bastard has a concussion.” He muttered the previous statement under his breath. “What are we going to do about the woman?”

This was new; they had never had need to dispose of a body. The people always disappeared. Even frowned in pure pity, “Burn it and clean the blood.”

“No, she deserves a fitting burial. To cremate her seems barbaric.” Aeleus walked with determined vigor after speaking these words. He cleared the distance between him and the woman. He placed a hand on her forehead shut her eyelids.

“And what we’ve been doing has been any more humane? If we burn the body it will be a quick affair, no mess. Besides it’ll get rid of the evidence.”

Dilan had been silent during the debate, but he spoke then, “What about those cells full of people? Aren’t they evidence as well?”

Even’s eyes fell to the floor and he nodded, “Bury her then.”

He began to the far side of the room to retrieve a cloth and cleaning solutions, but Dilan stopped him. “Don’t argue with me when I tell you to leave. Aeleus and I will take care of this. You need rest. You’re paler than the time you came here after taking Raine out.”

He didn’t reply, but instead turned away slightly, Dilan still having a soft grip on his injured arm. Any thought of immediately leaving was forgotten, however, when he felt a warmth unlike anything he’d ever experienced. He stared down at his arm and the green glow encompassing it. Dilan was healing his arm.

When Dilan pulled back he offered a slight smile to the man before rounding his body to join Aeleus. The man had unbound the body and was awaiting Dilan to help him lift it. Even unwrapped his arm and knew when it fell to rest normally at his side that the spell had worked. He wasted no more time and ascended the stairs to leave.
“If only you had brought her out from the beginning,” she heard the amusement in Xehanort’s voice, “I may have spared her until the birth, but you just had to defy my orders didn’t you?”

That confirmed it.

Raine gasped, yet it was heard only by her as she took a step back. She stumbled and landed harshly on her bottom on the last stair. She whimpered at the pain, but otherwise was hushed. She clenched her eyes and awaited any sign that her fall had been heard. The intensity of the conversation she heard told her it was safe for the moment. They hadn’t heard her fall.

That comfort caused numb terror and sorrow to engulf her. Those men: Xehanort, Braig, Ienzo, Dilan, Aeleus, and Even; they had been behind the kidnappings that had clutched Radiant Garden for six months with eighteen known victims. She felt tears prick at the edges of her eyes, but she fought them. She shouldn’t be crying, but she was frightened. Her heart felt as if it would stop beating at any moment.

The conversation continued, steps retreated, she waited with soft breath for anything to happen.

Waited for the cue to run…

She had been giddy all day. Even loved her! She wondered if the man was up at this hour of night, their brief exchange that morning had been the only time alone the two had. She felt the need to talk to him and with childish impatience rose to go and seek him out. If he was awake he would surely talk with her and they could go back to the simple joy they had shared earlier.

When she reached Even’s room she was surprised to find the door open and the lights on and him no where in sight. Through some unwarranted temerity she poked through his living quarters a bit, only enough to confirm that Even was not there. For fear of someone catching her and maliciously misinterpreting the facts, Raine left Even’s room. As she walked down the hallway again she passed Braig’s room and it was at this time that she noticed his bedroom was in the same condition as the one she’d just come from.

‘He can’t be gone too can he?’ She wondered as she paused in her stride. She quickly discovered he was. Back tracking down the way she’d just come she made her way to Dilan’s room and timidly opened his door.

The lights were off but from what dimness was let enter from the hall she could see that no one occupied the bed that sat positioned on the far end of the room. “Dilan?” She whispered loudly, just to make sure. When she got no answer she began to worry. What could they all be doing roaming around this time of night?

Returning swiftly to her room she had pulled on her thick coat over her nightshirt and padded softly in her slippers through the castle in search of the men. Before heading to the library she had stopped on the hallway which held Aeleus', Ienzo's, and Xehanort's rooms. They had all also been empty. Her hunt now encompassed them all and rationally she figured she might find them up late studying. She padded quietly down the hallways and quickly reached her destination. The great library's doors were locked tight. Her throat when dry. Where else would that leave them to be?

With time to spare she set out to comb the castle, she just hoped she wouldn't disturb anyone. Almost an hour later and she was looking at rows of gummi ships. She had been staring at the various models of the newly discovered ships for a few minutes when off to her left she noticed a discoloration in the floor. Curiosity sizzled in her head. She stepped closer to it and with each inch she crossed, she made out the odd shape more. Within only a few seconds she realized she was looking not at a discoloration, but an opening in the floor. Her footsteps hastened then.

In mere seconds she was staring down the stairs that led to a slightly ajar door, a sliver of light marking the floor beneath. She descended them and that is how she found herself now, huddled on the bottom stair, fear and misery churning her inside.

None the men she had met, well save perhaps Xehanort, seemed to fit the profile that one would have thought the captors to have owned. They seemed too honest and kind to be the criminals she had recently found them to be. Why did Even lie to her? Find the captors? Ha, he had been one all along. She felt her chest jar; what if she was next?

She was submerged in terror ridden fantasies when her mind registered that someone was approaching the door she was sitting outside of. They seemed in a great hurry. Raine flung herself to her feet and then she froze. She wouldn’t be able to run now without being caught. She weighted her options, but she was belatedly minded and the door flew open, bathing her in light.

Her eyes fell upon the frantic figure of Ienzo, who just shoved past her, as if he didn’t acknowledge her presence. She had seen guilt and an overriding queasiness in his features. What had happened down there?

A blood-curdling screech reverberated in her skull, sending her body into unconsciousness shock. Braig then appeared in her vision and he too passed her, but his pace faltered and Raine willed herself to face him.

His lips were in an open frown that revealed his teeth. His eye was large in some form of shame. She barely heard his harsh whisper, “Shit,” but it might have well been an echo that reached her for he waited no longer for her scrutiny and bolted off in the same direction as Ienzo.

Her mind fogged over then, the woman had stopped her cries of anguish and remorse long ago. She knew not then how long she had stood, rooted to the spot when a set of steady footfalls reached her ears. Her eyes turned and beheld as Even opened the door from the lab’s lower level and entered into the doorway. His eyes concentrated on her figure as if in disbelief. He watched as her eyes took in his full figure.

She brought a hand up to her face and a choked sob issued from her mouth as she swiveled from him. She was up the stairs and gone, traveling in the same direction Ienzo and Braig had sped earlier. It mattered not that she did not know at first where she was going, when she reached Ansem’s study she had all her bearings again.

Even stared after her. At first lulled into a numb shock, he wondered if he hadn’t just imagined her as a figment of his ashamed imagination, but the lingering scent of her perfume diffused in the space and he was off, trying to catch up to her.

It didn't take as long as he imagined it would when next he found himself he was at her door. He took a deep breath, realizing he had stopped breathing. His body ached. ‘Way to go, Even,’ he rebuked himself maliciously.

If helpless had been a word to describe him when he discovered how the heartless experiments were affecting Raine’s life, he wondered what declaration described his feelings now? He gently pushed the door open…