Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Final Fantasy VII: The Fallout ❯ Everything Falls Apart ( Chapter 2 )

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

Chapter 2
Everything Falls Apart
 
“I hate this miserable existence. I hate what I've become. And most of all, I hate what this world has made me; an empty shell of a man. A pathetic leach, sent here to toil in obscurity.” Sephiroth mumbled to himself, as he perched himself on the open windowsill, looking out at the night sky just as Marlene had done a few moments earlier. The clouds moved over the moon, a shimmering white lining for gray clouds. He looked down at that moment and looked over the landscape of Midgar, not a speck of space in sight, just jagged buildings sticking out of the ground and dull yellow lights. This space, no doubt like every other, was once a beautiful and serene grassy place. He could almost feel the grass between his finger, serrated green blades, thick to the touch. He closed his eyes and super-imposed this image on the layout of the city in his mind. This is what he now wanted, it is what he always wanted.
 
He opened his eyes and saw the travesty that was once his perfect picture in his mind. He gritted his teeth and hissed, “I want to destroy this planet … cleanse it of all the unworthy, and keep it for my very own.” He lifted his head slightly to the skyline and cringed, “Mother, is this what you wanted? People ignorant of there own planet dying? I will save it Mother. I will. You'll see. I'll summon meteor again…” He looked to the side, almost looking for something with vacant eyes. “No, that won't work will it?” He grinned, an evil grin for a wicked plot. “I know what I must do Mother, now I'm certain. I know… It's perfect.”
 
He jumped down into the room backward. His feet hit the floor so lightly that only a small tap could be heard. He strode across the room carefully, with big, graceful steps. There he saw his sword in the case. He smiled like he just saw an old friend and punched through the glass case with the deft precision of a surgeon, making a fist sized hole with no sound. He grabbed the hilt of his blade, turned it sideways, and pulled in one motion, cutting it out. The blade was still as sharp as he remembered. He looked at the blade, it had been cleaned recently. He could still smell the sweet lemon scent radiating from the steel. It was an awful contrast to what he knew he was about to do: to stain a blade that had just been polished.
 
He descended the stairs and walked up to the bathroom door. It was a large wooden door with nothing really special about it other than it was white. It wasn't painted however, the wood was naturally white. The knob was ornate and depicted an angel on one side and a demon on the other, carved out of solid gold. He could hear Rufus on the other side, splashing around in his bath water, he seemed to be in the far right corner of the room behind the door. Sephiroth tested the door, it wasn't locked.
 
Sephiroth exhaled briefly and opened the door carefully. Rufus was alarmed by the intrusion and gasped as he walked through the door, then breathed a sigh of relief that kind of confused Sephiroth.
 
“Oh, it's you; you scared me half to death. Come in, what do you want?” Rufus sat in his bath and didn't try to hide or cover up anything; he just waved Sephiroth in, until he saw the Masamune in his hand. He looked confused as Sephiroth came around the door and started to get up. “What are you doing with that?”
“Surprised that I'm back?”
“Yea, a little …” His voice trailed off as he kept glancing at the blade and back into Sephiroth's eyes as Sephiroth came into full view and rested the Masamune against the blue tile, grinding it slightly against the marble to make an annoying grating sound. The burning hatred Rufus saw there in his eyes bore through to his soul and he knew his time in this world was short.
“I got to know one thing though Rufus. How did a slug like you survive the weapon blast 15 years ago?” Sephiroth sat on the edge of the tub, sword down at his side for the moment, listening intently for his answer. He has always wondered that from the moment he had heard Rufus was still alive 10 years ago.
“I got down under the desk and was knocked unconscious. The desk made a pocket of air as the rest of the building collapsed. I was found in the wreckage a few days later.” Rufus started to back up as far as he could in the round, white ceramic tub and started muttering a silent prayer.
 
Sephiroth got up and started back towards the door, but just as Rufus breathed a sigh of relief, it was the last breath that he took. Sephiroth wheeled around, and in one clean motion, Rufus's head was across the room. Blood spouted out of his neck like a fountain all over the walls, and his body slumped slightly to the left. Sephiroth, without a word, grabbed his head from the floor and held it up to eye level. He smirked at the contorted face of horror that the head still held. The wall was spattered with blood and he rearranged it with his index finger. In the big blood splatter, he had wiped away the words `I AM THE CHOSEN ONE' spelled out in the white of the wall. He left the bathroom with the head held like a trophy and walked into the bedroom. He dropped the head into the bed with sick smile, and then vanished into the night from whence he came.