Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ A Knightmare's Dawn ❯ Feel Nothing, Become Nothing ( Chapter 1 )

A Knightmare's Dawn

by Danielle (a.k.a. Skidmarks)

Chapter One: Feel Nothing, Become Nothing

He felt her warm-veneered, yet truly icy, breath on his skin. The small hairs on his neck stood up as chills ran down his spin. She spun around to greet his handsome face. She stroked his delicate skin, tracing over his well-defined, totally suckable, lips with her cold fingertips. Erotic as it was, he said nothing, he felt nothing. She realized this and slapped him hard against his left cheek. Instantaneously, it turned champagne-red, leaving the faint marks of a young woman's hand. Although he was not one to be or act weak, the sting hurt so much more than any gunblade slice that went deep into his flesh. Even more badly than the one that produced the scar upon his forehead.

He mentally winced in pain as he watched her walk away, floating aimlessly over her long, silky dress. The black material flowed flawlessly behind the ever-so thin, tall, and most beautiful woman.

She spoke just above an inaudible whisper, "I'll be back, Seifer, my love."

As she closed and locked the heavy mahogany door behind her, she cast a mental breaking and binding spell only the most powerful Sorceress could obtain. He would not be able to, let alone dare try to, escape the Hideaway again. He pledged his life to her, even if it was when he was protecting his mother figure, Matron, while Ultimecia possessed her, and she was going to take him up on that offer to the very fullest.

Seifer fell, and sunk into the nearest chair. Although the pillows covering the black plush seat were highly comfortable, he still wasn't at ease. That was the first time he dared to escape, and most likely the last. If he didn't do what Ultimecia said, she'd half-possess him, and then she could do what she wanted with him. During that time, he had no control over his body, but could still feel the pain of her forcing him to penetrate her without any mercy on his member. She had only done it four times, though none was enough. He couldn't help himself, or even try to get pleasure out of the whole episode when he was half-gone. It was kind of gross to think about, if he was on the outside looking in. But though he was totally sickened by the whole thing, afterwards, he usually smirked an evil smile out to the world. He was always so surprised at how he climaxed so many damn times, lasting through the wee hours of the night. Then, when he was fully conscious of the whole thing and not overtaken by her evilness, Seifer was left broken. He was her sex toy, not a Knight, and it made him throw up after just thinking about it.

He was not the type to give up so easily, but he slowly was. The blonde slammed his head hard into the back of the chair, only to release him from this nightmare. Only problem was, this wasn't a nightmare. This was all real. He felt the pain, the sadness. But he also took in the evilness, unable to shield himself from the temptation and every other sin he was forced to do and enjoy. That meant not just being a puppet, but being the start of major massacres. He saw bloody, grief-stricken faces each day he was half-gone. He was forced to watch the people suffer, to watch the world slowly crumble beneath him. And soon, time was to be compressed. But he knew he could not notice, for he sat deep within the belly of the evil compression itself.

For once, he actually worried about his past rivals, his future friends. It enraged him that he could've been so damn naive, so damn stupid, to pledge his allegiance to her. It wasn't all his fault, but he should've saw beyond the facade of his now-known-to-be foster mother. Seifer didn't care what it would take, but he would give up anything and everything just to get out of this Hyne-forsaken place. Even to see a glimpse of that damned Chickenwuss, to get a glance at the true beauties of the world, to get laid once without being technically raped, hell, even to get another scar from Squall. Seifer Almasy had given up on himself, his mind poisoned, his heart messed with, so all he could do way pray to the gods for someone, anyone to rescue his poor soul. Someone to save him that he would be forever grateful for. He pinched the bridge of his nose, right under the noticeable scar, deep in thought. If he only had his trusted Hyperion, he could blast through the rows of Behemoth Guards that surrounded his small prison. It was endless- all of this pain. Ultimecia was too powerful for Seifer to take on, unarmed, with a broken soul and a weakened heart. He honestly had no will left to survive another round of punishments.

Seifer looked down at his ankle. Suddenly all the pain surged up his leg and got into his spine. The pain was unbearable. He forgot that he sprained his ankle while trying to get past all the damn monsters that lay here and there in Ultimecia's castle. And then the slap across the face. That was just a low-blow to his pride, which was being sucked from his soul, like blood from a vampire victim. It was sad, but what was sadder was the fact that when he trailed over the reddened patch, he nearly cried. Standing up so slowly, he crept to the bathroom, in search of something to soothe his nerves and the pain. He grabbed one of the many black, fluffy towels, and laid it on the small toilet. Across from the toilet, he just realized, was a small, one-person Jacuzzi tub. He stood up on his good leg, and went over to the lavish bathtub. Seifer turned the small faucet on the left to the highest setting available. It would be his first time in ages that he took a bath, not a crummy shower. He reached over to the candles surrounding the tub. After lighting them very cautiously, he turned off the light. Again, he shifted to his good leg while sitting on the toilet, and untied his boots. Carefully, he pulled them off, noticing that his left ankle had nearly doubled in size. Seifer stripped off his coat, laying it on the back of the toilet, and nearly ripped off his undershirts. Safely, he pulled down his pants to his crotch area and proceeded to take them off one leg at a time. Down to only his boxers, he pulled them off, too, exposing his gorgeous body, and the cursed weapon of pain. Not that he cursed it; it did him well, sufficiently doing its job, but he cursed the one who put it to bad use. He stepped into the steaming water, taking pleasure in the hell-like water. It relaxed his muscles as he soaked himself.

After nearly two hours, Seifer looked down at his pruney hands. They were wrinkled beyond the point of fixing. He laughed to himself. It was disturbing that the smallest things ended up keeping him alive. The smallest particle of funniness seemed to find its way to his heart just at the point where doing anything would cause him to cry. His breaking point. He was nearly there, almost every second of every day since he first came here. Sad, yes, but there was nothing he could do to help it. He just had to be a marionette for just a bit longer until someone came and rescued him. Or even 'til his ex-rivals killed off Ultimecia. Sad, yes, but he had to either live or die. He might be scared, but he wasn't a coward. He would not stand for that title of weakness. He was a man, and would stand up like a man, never falling, never faltering. He couldn't be shaken by this, and definitely not by her. He was smarter than that. If he gave up now, he'd be plagued with the evil for eternity. So he made a promise with himself to only cry on the inside. Not to show his feelings, not to prove that this torture was his weakness. Ultimecia was a sadomasochist, and he wasn't gonna let her get any fucking mental pleasure from him.

Seifer got up out of the now-slippery tub, trying not to disturb his ankle. He wrapped the giant towel around his waist. Limping, he slowly made it to the black-silk covered canopy bed. As tall as he was, 6'2", he still had to hop up using his good leg to get on top of it.

"Must've been her old one..." Seifer thought, realizing that she had more than just a couple inches height on him.

He softly laid on his right side, staring out the giant picture window. It was pure black outside, just like the sheets, just like the towels, just like the whole room itself. Just like her heart. Old, black, and cold. Her way of living surprised Seifer, especially, compared to how she wanted to be so passionate in the bedroom.

"Heh... Her, be passionate? She would have been as cold as ice, if it wasn't for my `fire cross'..." he thought, so meanly.

For a second there, Seifer was evil. He realized this and corrected himself in his mind. He was always so cocky and arrogant, but not in this way. He changed for a second... mind and body. But then, he couldn't help but notice that being broken causes one to act normal, to not be held by the chains of popularity. And that; that remark right there, was not him just being damn mean, but him also being overpowered. Overpowered with some type of unfathomable evil. But, soon he forgot the inner talk within himself, and slowly tried to drift to sleep. A wave of yawns came over onto Seifer, and he fell fast into a deep sleep. Deeper than any other sleep he had before then. But with the deepest of sleeps await the darkness of the heart that aches to get out into the normal world. Though it is also content when, in sleep, it changes and starts to hurt you more than any physical pain you had endured before. It is simply titled: a Nightmare.