Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Fire of the Blood ❯ Prolouge ( Chapter 1 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Jessibelle67 
How the disease is awakened.
Non Anime: Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Suspense / Action | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 02.10.2005 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.4K | Visits: 1.1K | Status: Completed
How the disease is awakened.
Non Anime: Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Suspense / Action | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 02.10.2005 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.4K | Visits: 1.1K | Status: Completed
Prologue: Terror in the Jungle
*****
Pitka was considered to be the apple of his father’s eye. A small replica of the man when he seven years old. Unfortunately, Pitka’s father had also been a mischievous little boy and his son had inherited that trait as well. No matter how much his mother and father warned not to go searching too far from the Besaid village, he just never could seem to listen. Not one to be easily scared by tales of horrible little-boy-eating fiends, he tested the limits of his parent’s patience with every excursion further and further from the safety of the village.
Today he was skipping rocks along a small brook off the beaten path that lead down to the ocean. Bored with watching the flat stones skim the water before gravity pulled then down, he dropped his handful of rocks and wandered further into the tangle of jungle that made up the heart of Besaid island. He followed the brook, using it as a guild to find his way back out. He might have been mischievous, but he was still rather smart for his age. Lazily watching the minnows glide though the shallow water, he looked up at the position of the sun. He should be going home soon. Mother would have supper ready and his father would be returning from the planting fields. They would worry if he was back after dark. And their worry often turned to chastising anger when he finally came running through the door; His mouth already full of apologies and fabricated stories of where he had been, swearing up and down that he never left the village. By now his parents new better then to believe him.
He studied the water, contemplating how many more minutes he could squeeze out of the day when he heard a faint crack of a snapped twig. It came from the direction of the road, though the road was too far back to see from here. A cold fear gripped him. He was a small boy deep in the woods with out the protection of an adult. He’d never dared to wander quite this far from the village before.
He peered into the deepening shadows of the brush and saw nothing. Leaves rustled, another twig groaned under the weight of a foot.
“Hello?” Pitka asked, tentative of the sudden silence. Then in the vain hope of a child he called, “Mama?”
The only answer was a low trickling growl. His eyes widened in terror. He’d never feared fiends before only because he had never met one. All the tales his parent’s had made him endure of terrible killer beasts stalking the woods had all suddenly come true. He felt the nightmare wrap around his poor small heat. Blinded by terror he stood frozen, but when the bushed straight ahead of him began to shake as the approaching monster came for him he turned and ran blindly in the opposite direction. The woods exploded in the trampling of feet and the fierce pounding of his own heart. Branches tore at his hair and clothes but he didn’t pay any attention to them or the scratches they left on his arms and legs. The tearing of leaves and grass told him that the fiend was in hot pursuit.
Pitka splashed though the brook heading in the direction opposite of the water’s flow. Could fiends swim? His small mind raced. If he could find deeper water perhaps he could get away. His frantic eyes followed the path of the water as far as he could see and his heart was stricken to find a dark cave looming ahead. The widening brook seemed to flow out of it. It was likely that the cave had no exit and he would be trapped against a wall, his only exit blocked by a hungry lupine. But the hot breath on the back of his calves pushed him forwards regardless. He hurled himself into the opening of the cave and kept going. In his blind flight he failed to notice the absence of his pursuer’s paws. Outside the entrance of the dark cavern the distraught lupin scented danger and whined having lost his dinner to a larger fiend. He tucked his tail between his legs and retreated back into the wood to search for better prey.
The boy’s lungs burned. His muscles ached and he felt he could not keep going. Slowing to a desperate lope, he anticipated the teeth that were sure to sink into him. When nothing happened he tried to hold his puffing breath and listen to the darkness. No noise answered him. The silence was almost more terrifying. He stopped running and collapsed into a panting heap on the cold stone floor. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he fought for breath. His pursuer appeared to have abandoned the chase, but he didn’t dare relax while the enigmatic darkness lay folded around him. From here he could no longer see the light outside.
His groping hand found the purchase of a damp wall, the stones seemed to sweat from the thick humidity of the enclosed air. He rested his forehead against the cool wall, still struggling to ease his startled pulse. He seemed to be safe for now, but would the wolf fiend be awaiting him just outside the cave?
His small hand curled into a fist as thick sobs racked his tiny frame. He brought his fist up and back down against the stones in childish frustration and utter despair. One thought whispered across his mind. He should have listened to his parents.
The walls seemed to shuttering response. His stomach gave a sickened lurch as the sweating stone began to shift beneath his arm. The waking slits of twin red orbs appeared just right of where he sat crumpled. A hot, wet gush of fetid air caressed his legs. One eye alone was over five hand-spans across. Pitka jumped to his feet, scrambling away from the hulking monster. He screaming in gut wenching fear. It would appear as f he had jumped from the frying pan into the fire, as his mother would say. This fiend was nearly twenty times the size of the first.
Lethargic and slow to wake, the large eyes blinked and rolled in their sockets. The boy was once again on the run, seeing his chance to flee the monster before it came to it’s full senses. The dark cave seemed to never end. Had it taken this long before to run it’s length? He saw the dim hope of daylight, grey in his vision. Al his thin legs bore him forward the light became to brighten. He was almost there.
A monestrous roar split the air, shaking the ground so hard it made the body stumble. He quickly recovered, running harder, faster then before. The entrance was so close.
Just before the baptizing light of day came upon him a voice rang out. Pitka realized that it was the fiend speaking. The voice seared across his brain, only sounding inside his own head.
Fool, it rasped. You have no idea what you have awaken, child.
He thought the fiend would chase him. Run him down until his body was devoured by the gnashing teeth. But all that arose from the mouth of the cave was a dark, almost greenish cloud of breath. The foul smell choked his lungs, strangling the breath from him. The mere smell made his stomach convulse with the urge to wretch.
After a moment he regained his breath and never again looked back until his was at the village gate. His body never felt so abused, nor his chest so crushed. Dusk had well fallen and he shivered from the sweat that soaked his clothes. As he reached his parent’s hut, he couldn’t shake the terrible burn in his body, nor the echo of cruel laughter in his mind.
******
Author’s note: Bear with me. I’m just getting warmed up. ^_-
Converting /tmp/phpJ8XGO0 to /dev/stdout
*****
Pitka was considered to be the apple of his father’s eye. A small replica of the man when he seven years old. Unfortunately, Pitka’s father had also been a mischievous little boy and his son had inherited that trait as well. No matter how much his mother and father warned not to go searching too far from the Besaid village, he just never could seem to listen. Not one to be easily scared by tales of horrible little-boy-eating fiends, he tested the limits of his parent’s patience with every excursion further and further from the safety of the village.
Today he was skipping rocks along a small brook off the beaten path that lead down to the ocean. Bored with watching the flat stones skim the water before gravity pulled then down, he dropped his handful of rocks and wandered further into the tangle of jungle that made up the heart of Besaid island. He followed the brook, using it as a guild to find his way back out. He might have been mischievous, but he was still rather smart for his age. Lazily watching the minnows glide though the shallow water, he looked up at the position of the sun. He should be going home soon. Mother would have supper ready and his father would be returning from the planting fields. They would worry if he was back after dark. And their worry often turned to chastising anger when he finally came running through the door; His mouth already full of apologies and fabricated stories of where he had been, swearing up and down that he never left the village. By now his parents new better then to believe him.
He studied the water, contemplating how many more minutes he could squeeze out of the day when he heard a faint crack of a snapped twig. It came from the direction of the road, though the road was too far back to see from here. A cold fear gripped him. He was a small boy deep in the woods with out the protection of an adult. He’d never dared to wander quite this far from the village before.
He peered into the deepening shadows of the brush and saw nothing. Leaves rustled, another twig groaned under the weight of a foot.
“Hello?” Pitka asked, tentative of the sudden silence. Then in the vain hope of a child he called, “Mama?”
The only answer was a low trickling growl. His eyes widened in terror. He’d never feared fiends before only because he had never met one. All the tales his parent’s had made him endure of terrible killer beasts stalking the woods had all suddenly come true. He felt the nightmare wrap around his poor small heat. Blinded by terror he stood frozen, but when the bushed straight ahead of him began to shake as the approaching monster came for him he turned and ran blindly in the opposite direction. The woods exploded in the trampling of feet and the fierce pounding of his own heart. Branches tore at his hair and clothes but he didn’t pay any attention to them or the scratches they left on his arms and legs. The tearing of leaves and grass told him that the fiend was in hot pursuit.
Pitka splashed though the brook heading in the direction opposite of the water’s flow. Could fiends swim? His small mind raced. If he could find deeper water perhaps he could get away. His frantic eyes followed the path of the water as far as he could see and his heart was stricken to find a dark cave looming ahead. The widening brook seemed to flow out of it. It was likely that the cave had no exit and he would be trapped against a wall, his only exit blocked by a hungry lupine. But the hot breath on the back of his calves pushed him forwards regardless. He hurled himself into the opening of the cave and kept going. In his blind flight he failed to notice the absence of his pursuer’s paws. Outside the entrance of the dark cavern the distraught lupin scented danger and whined having lost his dinner to a larger fiend. He tucked his tail between his legs and retreated back into the wood to search for better prey.
The boy’s lungs burned. His muscles ached and he felt he could not keep going. Slowing to a desperate lope, he anticipated the teeth that were sure to sink into him. When nothing happened he tried to hold his puffing breath and listen to the darkness. No noise answered him. The silence was almost more terrifying. He stopped running and collapsed into a panting heap on the cold stone floor. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he fought for breath. His pursuer appeared to have abandoned the chase, but he didn’t dare relax while the enigmatic darkness lay folded around him. From here he could no longer see the light outside.
His groping hand found the purchase of a damp wall, the stones seemed to sweat from the thick humidity of the enclosed air. He rested his forehead against the cool wall, still struggling to ease his startled pulse. He seemed to be safe for now, but would the wolf fiend be awaiting him just outside the cave?
His small hand curled into a fist as thick sobs racked his tiny frame. He brought his fist up and back down against the stones in childish frustration and utter despair. One thought whispered across his mind. He should have listened to his parents.
The walls seemed to shuttering response. His stomach gave a sickened lurch as the sweating stone began to shift beneath his arm. The waking slits of twin red orbs appeared just right of where he sat crumpled. A hot, wet gush of fetid air caressed his legs. One eye alone was over five hand-spans across. Pitka jumped to his feet, scrambling away from the hulking monster. He screaming in gut wenching fear. It would appear as f he had jumped from the frying pan into the fire, as his mother would say. This fiend was nearly twenty times the size of the first.
Lethargic and slow to wake, the large eyes blinked and rolled in their sockets. The boy was once again on the run, seeing his chance to flee the monster before it came to it’s full senses. The dark cave seemed to never end. Had it taken this long before to run it’s length? He saw the dim hope of daylight, grey in his vision. Al his thin legs bore him forward the light became to brighten. He was almost there.
A monestrous roar split the air, shaking the ground so hard it made the body stumble. He quickly recovered, running harder, faster then before. The entrance was so close.
Just before the baptizing light of day came upon him a voice rang out. Pitka realized that it was the fiend speaking. The voice seared across his brain, only sounding inside his own head.
Fool, it rasped. You have no idea what you have awaken, child.
He thought the fiend would chase him. Run him down until his body was devoured by the gnashing teeth. But all that arose from the mouth of the cave was a dark, almost greenish cloud of breath. The foul smell choked his lungs, strangling the breath from him. The mere smell made his stomach convulse with the urge to wretch.
After a moment he regained his breath and never again looked back until his was at the village gate. His body never felt so abused, nor his chest so crushed. Dusk had well fallen and he shivered from the sweat that soaked his clothes. As he reached his parent’s hut, he couldn’t shake the terrible burn in his body, nor the echo of cruel laughter in his mind.
******
Author’s note: Bear with me. I’m just getting warmed up. ^_-
Converting /tmp/phpJ8XGO0 to /dev/stdout