Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Dear, Dear Diary... ❯ Chapter 1 ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

RATING NC-17!! DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18, THIS STORY CONTAINS GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, POSSIBLE RAPE, GRUESOME SCENES AND OTHER MATURE CONTENT. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. (I CANNOT BE HELD RESPONSIBLE!!!)

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII, its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.

Pairing: Kadaj X Loz X Yazoo

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Dear, Dear Diary...

Chapter One:

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You don't know me. I don't know you. But, this is my story of how my brothers and I survived, for you already know our deaths.

My name is Loz.

My age, is unknown, even to myself.

I have no past, nor do I have future. All that I have is the present, my brothers, and the hopeless, heartbreaking dream of life that we will never, ever know.

I suppose I should start from the beginning, maybe then my life -if that is what you would call it- would be less confusing to you.

I don't remember much of my early years. But, I will tell you all that I know, in hope to allow our story to be heard.

My brothers at the moment are laughing at me, but what else is knew? They find my futile attempt at a biography amusing, and yet, I can see the flicker of hope - that our story will be heard - in their familiar and oddly comforting jade eyes.

My birth was not an official one. Yes, there were doctors, scientists and nurse personnel but, there were no certificates, crying mothers or even warm embraces. Only cold clinical eyes, frozen touches, and merciless inspections.

Hell, in all instances, my birth cannot even be considered a birth. For, I was incubated in an artificial womb until the time of my `supposed' birth would occur, then they moved my small, helpless, feeble, unconscious body to a glowing mako chamber where I remained for the first year of my life.

It was not until they removed me - alive and aware - from that chamber, did they consider me even alive.

Loz is what they named me, or rather dubbed me for easier identification, for in truth, I had two names; `Unit experiment -- 56-L-24-O-91-Z-20-01' being my original name.

My name - `Unit experiment -- 56-L-24-O-91-Z-20-01'- was my 'supposed' true name, password, and my curse. It was the only thing that truly bound me to them, and they would make sure that it would always remain. Thusly, they tattooed it on my right shoulder as soon as they registered me as awake and aware enough to feel the pain. Even today, it still leaves a gruesome reminder of my life.

Now to the doctors, I was a mystery; to the scientists, I was an anomaly; and to the very few, exclusive, first class soldiers - that were allowed a meager glimpse of me - I was a threat. For, even in my infant years, I rivaled their overall body strength. And, at the age of three, I was quite known for breaking the soldiers' mako reinforced bones, much like you would a simple dried up twig that you would find lying in the street during a warm autumn afternoon. I always found it funny that my `toys' always needed to be replaced, the Shinra personnel? Not so much.

All-in-all, my life was -albeit simple- a very lonely and painful experience. For, if I was not being monitored by a mobile camera in my small, sterile, bleached white box for a cell, I was either strapped to the familiar bone chilling, medical steel gurney while being experimented on or I was being tested on in the equipment room, where I ran treadmills and lifted weights.

Although, if there was one salvation - or rather mercy- ever given to me, it was my drug.

Now in the beginning, I fought until long after I bled and passed out against being injected regularly - and quite often I might add - with the volatile glowing green mixture of mako and mother's cells. But, eventually, I grew tired, and in an odd way, the familiarity of those injections, grew comforting, and thusly, addicting.

The pain though, was always unbearable. There is no way a person could imagine that pain, but I will try and enlighten you to even a tidbit of what I felt.

Imagine the pinch of the cold sterile needle under your skin, and a freezing burn that slowly creeps through your veins as more and more of the deadly mixture is slowly injected into you. Now, imagine each and every muscle in your body, starting to convulse and cramp, leaving you straining against the well worn, dark leather and metal straps, in a hopeless attempt to escape the liquid flowing through your veins, seemingly dissolving everything in its wake.

But now, that was only the after affects of the initial injection. It was later when I sat huddled and shivering in the farthest corner of my cell, when the real pain would come.

Imagine, gut wrenching nausea; fevers; hot flashes; bone-cracking seizures; suicidal self mutilation; head splitting migraines; horrific delusions and so much more…

The odd thing was, in the end, I enjoyed every minute of it.

The mako rush I always received at the end of it all was addicting. The surge of power was mind blowing. You became numb to the world, and yet, everything was overly sensitive to the point you could feel no pain, only pleasure.

Oh the scientists had a field day with my ever growing addiction, and were more than happy to provide me with the drug when I went through even worse withdrawals.

In their minds, I was becoming perfection.

I had all the strength and agility they could ever want. I was breathtaking with my shocking silver hair and glowing mako eyes that stood out against my pale skin. I was their prodigy, well, until I learnt to speak.

As early as I can remember, they shoved mind puzzles, school work, and every other form of intellectual work in front of me. But, that was where I was deemed a failure.

I thought I was doing well. In regular terms, I graduated high school when I was six. At seven I already had four master degrees under my belt, and over twenty when I was twelve. But, according to them, my intellect was lacking and my emotions were programmed wrong.

To them, I had become a failure.

And, that was when the real pain started.

They tried to make my mind `up to par' as they put it, by giving me mind puzzles that always had some sort of bodily harm involved in order to solve them. All the while, I was given ever increasing mako and Jenova concoctions, in hopes to tame my wild emotional fits.

But, all that work only served one purpose, to slowly kill me.

I was alone and in constant agonizing pain. My comfort was slowly killing me. My mind was painstakingly breaking down and dying. All that I was left with was my tears.

But, by the end of my twelfth year, all that changed.

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AN: Alright, this is a new story, sortof.It is part of Send Me An Angel…Tainted With Scarlet but,it can be read as a totally separate story...i.e. what it is here.

I always wanted to write my version of the trio's past. And forgive me for the short length of this fan-fiction. IT WILL GET LONGER!!!

Now, this entire thing will be written mostly in Loz's POV; which, as far as I can tell, has never been done before. It's always in Kadaj's or Yazoo's POV or 3rd person. So...here's something that is hopefully original.

I hope you enjoy it.

I~Plead~Obsession