Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ The Bloodcross Key: Arc 1: Shattered Knight ❯ Shattered Knight Part 2 ( Chapter 2 )

When Seifer awoke, he felt light-headed, sore, and a faint, lingering tingle, like after-effects of a cast cure. Opening his crystal blue eyes, he rose on his elbows, softly cushioned by whatever he lay on. He was shocked, yet somehow not, to find himself nowhere near anything resembling the pier. Or even outside at all.

Sitting up completely he glanced around him, realizing he was in some room he didn't recognize. Silver walls surrounded him with large, elaborate red crosses evenly spaced along them. He peered down at his coat sleeve which somehow was still intact, even pristine. His aqua eyes narrowed, then darted back to the walls. The same. The same cross. A bloodcross.

Above and below the crosses, black rod-iron grating trimmed the walls. Across the room, curtains of black velvet hung down from the trim. And, as he followed the ornate metal, the wall to his right was curtained completely in the dark velvet.

He gazed down at the softness under him. Black velvet bedding on a bed probably as wide as he was tall. Black rod-iron posts twisted at the head of the bed, curling along the wall to meet at the point of a smaller bloodcross centered on the wall. Black chains and shackles hung from each iron-wrought whorl like leaves of a willow tree.

What the hell was this place? He rose from the bed, shoving his gloved fingers through his hair and massaging his temples from the ache between them. How long had he been here? And why? Where even was 'here'?

He flung aside a curtain, hoping some answer might lie behind it, even a small one. The dark velvet lifted and revealed a mirror, set like a window would be. What? He shoved aside the rest, only to discover the same. The entire curtained wall was mirrored. What was the sense in that?

Seifer strode to the remaining velvet covering at the far wall. Jerking it to the side, he found two silver doors. He tugged at the handle of the first, but it wouldn't move. Locked. He tried the second and it opened smoothly. A small room was beyond it, tiled in the same silver, black, and bloodcross design. He growled and stormed back to the mirrors. Folding his arms across his chest, he rested his chin on an upraised hand and scowled.

The room was no normal prison. Though as long as it was locked, it was a prison just the same in his mind. And until he discovered why he was there, he would try whatever it took to escape. He had far too many important obligations for him to remain in this ridiculous place.

The mirrors drew his gaze. Something about them bothered him. It wasn't what usually disturbed him, which always disturbed him: his own reflection --especially now that his sins were bloodier. Something just seemed wrong about the reflective glass.

He ran a gloved hand along the underside of the mirror in front of him, searching for a way to remove it from the wall. However, it was set solidly within it. Before he could investigate further, a click snapped his attention to the locked door.

Now unlocked, as it opened and a large, oily man entered.

"About damn time, boy!" the man grumbled as he puffed on a cigar.

Seifer turned, folding his arms, his weight shifted to one leg in a cocky stance which was second-nature to him. "Where the hell am I? And why!" his deadly ice-aqua eyes glared at the man.

The oily man patted his massive belly and laughed. "The 'where' isn't important to you anymore, knight!" he spat the last word like a curse. "But why..." he grinned. "...'why' is very important. You're the Sorceress' Knight and this is your punishment! And a very profitable venture for me, I might add!"

"What?!" Seifer's eyes flashed wide as he fought to hide the trembling that overtook him.

"You belong to me now, knight. You're my whore. And anyone else's that wants to see you pay for what you have done."

The man stepped heavily towards him, but Seifer was lost in his own mind. Punishment? Whore? That was the price? His handsome face tightened into a scowl, wrinkling the scar between his dazed eyes. There had to be another way! But... he deserved it, deserved worse! Seifer hung his golden head, his hands shaking uncontrollably.

A thick hand seized his arm and shoved him towards the bed. Seifer stumbled, still in a daze of guilt and self-loathing, and fell onto the bed, his face buried in the soft, dark velvet.

"Perfect." the slick voice fluttered distantly in his ears. "I was expecting to need the restraints." His body jerked and his trenchcoat was yanked from his shoulders. Another tug and tobacco-stained, stubby hands slithered across his bare skin.

'He deserved it' echoed through his mind. Seifer demanded it to. But even his guilt-ridden resolve couldn't ignore the thick finger that suddenly forced itself within him. He cried out and tried to squirm away. A strong hand grabbed his neck and shoved him deeper onto the soft bed.

"I'm going to claim you, knight-whore. It can either be the easy way or not! I really don't care."

"I never do anything the easy way!" Seifer sneered and kicked at his captor. The grip slackened and he rolled away, only to be tripped by his own pants tangled around his ankles. He fell hard on his shoulder, onto the black carpet, the breath knocked from his lungs.

The man loomed over him with an amused leer. "Stupid boy! This is only what you deserve and you know it!"

He kicked Seifer in the stomach. The blond grunted and curled into himself. He was right. Why fight it? He was right! Another kick.

" On the bed! Now!"

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