Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ The Bloodcross Key: Arc 1: Shattered Knight ❯ Shattered Knight Part 3 ( Chapter 3 )

Part 3:

Squall sat silently at Cid Kramer's large desk. His calloused fingers tangled in his chestnut brown hair as he propped his head in an upraised hand. He was reading over a stack of SeeD mission reports. And had been doing so for the past two hours.

He had no idea why Cid chose him to take over his duties while he was away on vacation with his wife. Everyone knew how much Squall hated being in charge. At least it was mostly paperwork, but he still had to deal with people more than he would like. Meeting with potential clients, setting up missions, briefing and debriefing SeeD teams being sent on those missions...

He growled. His time with Rinoa had eased him for a while to interacting socially. She somehow forced it out of him even though it went against his nature. But that was the real point: it went against his nature. He could only submit to her influence for so long before it drained him. Drained him of his energy, his patience, and himself. And perhaps that was why it also drained him of any affection he had thought he had for the energetic girl. Hell, he should at least be honest to himself. Pushy girl. She drove him absolutely crazy.

She was always trying to force him out of his much needed quiet moments. Didn't she understand that he wasn't like her? He needed time alone. Just because he needed someone to pull him from his brooding from time to time didn't mean he needed it all the time. But, no! Anytime he tried to get away for a few quiet moments, there she was, pestering the hell out of him!

Now that he thought about it, he almost was thankful for standing in for Cid. At least it got him a little time by himself, in blissful quiet!

How the hell had Seifer tolerated her? The handsome blond may not have the same need for solitude, however Squall didn't see how he could stand being anything but in total control. Seifer didn't take orders from anyone when he didn't want to.

Well... he didn't before. Something seemed different about Seifer since his experience with Ultimecia and then her defeat. Seifer didn't try to antagonize him into duels like he used to. Or, as Squall thought about it, much of anything.

There was still the occasional snide remark with Seifer's characteristic smirk. But something was missing, even in the smirk. It seemed... hollow. That lively, smug grin had been a part of his life ever since he arrived at Garden all those years ago. And Seifer too. But now it and Seifer weren't the same. Both seemed ... well... lifeless. Forced. And for some reason he didn't understand one bit, he didn't like it. Not at all.

A sudden knock at the door drew another growl from the somber SeeD. The quiet may have been leading his mind in a direction he didn't want it exploring but he still craved the solitude. And someone was disturbing it! If it was Rinoa ..

"What!" he called curtly to the door. "I'm busy!"

"We need to talk to you, ya know." replied a voice that could only belong to Seifer's burly sidekick, Raijin.

He would have told him to come back later, especially if Seifer was with him. He couldn't deal with seeing Seifer right then. Not with the emptiness he now always saw in the statuesque blond's beautiful blue eyes. He sighed. But Raijin's voice had an urgency to it.

He pressed a button under the edge of the desk which was followed by a faint click. "The door's unlocked. Make it quick."

Fujin stormed into the room, Raijin closely behind. No Seifer. Much to his relief.

"SEIFER."

"What about Seifer?" Squall asked, forcing disinterest into his voice.

"GONE!"

He shrugged. "So?"

"He's missing, ya know."

"And why should I care?"

Fujin's scarlet eye flared bright red. She raged from the room and quickly returned with a gunblade in her hand. Seifer's gunblade. Squall knew it almost as well as his own. She slammed it onto the desk with such force papers fluttered from their neat stacks.

"SEIFER'S!"

"I can see that," Squall replied sarcastically, irritation masking the rising concern he was trying to ignore. "Isn't he going to be a bit pissed that you took it?"

"We found it, ya know," Raijin said his eyes lowered. "At the docks."

"And?"

"And he wasn't there!" Fujin yelled. "Only Hyperion and..." Her eye narrowed and she bit her trembling lip.

"And?" Now he was really getting irritated. They interrupted his relative peace and then wouldn't get to the damn point! And it wasn't helping that they were scaring the hell out of him and he was beginning to understand why.

"... and blood," Raijin finished. "Lots of blood, but no Seifer."

Squall folded his arms on the desk to hide the violent shaking that had just overcome him. This had to be a joke. A sick, morbid joke. That was it. The old Seifer was finally back and probably thought this hilariously funny. Except it wasn't and even with all the stupid stunts Seifer pulled in the past, practical jokes weren't his style.

And, the steely girl had become visibly upset. A single tear slid slowly down her cheek and she didn't seem to care. "He was supposed to be back a night ago. He promised"

"And what am I supposed to do?" He knew he was being a total ass, but what else could he do? What else could he say? Comfort wasn't something he knew how to give. And the thought of never seeing Seifer again. That he was dead. That he could never...

"BASTARD! FIND. HIM!" Her blood-red eye seared into him.

"And where do I look?" Squall waved a hand around him vaguely. "You have no clue. He's probably fine, wandered off after a fight as usual."

"WITHOUT HYPERION?" Fujin's fists quaked at her side. "IDIOT!"

She had a point. There was no way he would go anywhere without his gunblade. But Squall didn't want to face that fact.

"Then he's probably dead," he commented with a coldness he needed desperately, or else he would break down completely.

Fujin lurched forward and slapped him. His cheek burned, but far less than his soul.

"RAGE!" she snarled, then lowered her voice dangerously and delivered a far greater slap. This time with words. "I can't believe he loves an asshole like you! You don't deserve him or his love! And to think he tears himself apart every day over what he did to you, believing himself unworthy of such a fucking bastard that cares only for himself! You disgust me, Squall!"

Squall blinked his tensing blue-gray eyes. "W... what did you say?" He stammered.

"YOU. DISGUST. ME!"

"Not that," he said quietly, his voice tightening, the trembling in his hands surging uncontrollably through his body. "H...he l...loves me?"

"She's right, ya know," Raijin growled. ".. you don't deserve it!"

Squall leapt to his feet, and braced himself against the desk, his legs feeling weak and boneless. They couldn't mean it! Couldn't! He couldn't bear to lose someone else important to him! And he knew Seifer was important, very important. But he had never been willing to admit it even to himself, and now it was too late.

Helplessness sapped any strength he had left since it drained from their first mention of Seifer's disappearance. What could he do? It was like Sis all over again. Except, he had found Sis. There was little hope of ever finding Seifer.

"I don't know what to do," he muttered hopelessly, his eyes closing briefly to trap the tears that demanded to fall.

Fujin and Raijin glanced at each other, then at Squall, an odd look creeping into their angry eyes.

"We'll take you to the docks. Then we can figure out somethin', ya know."

Squall looked up at the broad muscled young man, grasping desperately at the hope glimmering in Raijin's eyes. He nodded, slipping his leather jacket from the back of Cid's chair.

"Lead the way," he said quietly as he sheathed his gunblade to his back. Remembering Hyperion, he turned to grab it from Cid's desk, his gloved fingers lingering along the metal blade leaving shining trails in the dried sea salt dusting its surface. Damn Seifer!

"Take his gunblade," Squall said as he peered at Fujin. His steel blue eyes were cold and determined. "He'll want it when we find him."

Fujin stared at him for a moment, studying him, then nodded.

********

Three men sat quietly, covered in the shadows of the darkened room. Their hidden eyes glittered with the faint light seeping through a row of windows ahead of them. They all stared, transfixed, at the statuesque figure writhing in pain on a velvet covered bed. The excited beating of their hearts as their bodies surged with lust and anticipation almost thundered loud enough to be heard in the silence.

A door to the left opened, shooting a slice of light into the theater-like room. A soft click of the door, and the room returned to blackness. Then footsteps padded across the carpeted floor. Emerging from the shadows, a thin figure in a dark suit stood by the window, his narrow face partially illuminated by the pale light.

"Gentlemen," he said in a soft voice. "You are all fortunate to have arrived when you did. The Master of this establishment is set to enact certain limitations regarding ownership of the Bloodcross Key. It seems he is rather popular, even beyond the Master's expectations."

Lifting the clipboard he held in his hand, he glanced down at the small stack of papers, tapping a pen idly against it.

"Since he was brought here a week ago, nearly every of his waking hours has been completely booked. And even a few when he's been asleep. Which is unfortunately where this all leads. The Master is concerned that at this pace his property will end up damaged beyond repair, and seeing the profit he's bringing in, that's the last thing he wants. After this evening, the Bloodcross Key will be temporarily unavailable for purchase."

The three men grunted their disapproval almost in unison. The thin man waved his hand causally.

"No need for concern. You still have claim to the Key for tonight. Though the price has gone up. Supply and demand, gentlemen."

"How much?" one of the men grumbled, but the hunger in his voice said he would pay any price asked. Any.

"One hundred thousand gil," the suited man replied with a smirk.

"What?"

"One hundred thousand gil?!"

"For one hour?"

The man nodded, then turned to the sleeping young man through the window. "One hundred thousand gil. For one hour. But you know he's worth it." He smiled. "As a bonus." The man returned his hidden gaze to the shadowed men. "For the price increase, the Master has authorized certain alterations...." His eyes darted to the clipboard, flipping over a page. "... as requested."

Each man breathed a little harder. "Done! Agreed!" They muttered at once.

The man smiled. "Good. Excellent decision. Now you will each have claim to him in the order of your registration. Since each of you have stated a preference to watch, that fee will be added to the one hundred thousand, and you will remain here until your appointed time. Any questions?"

Silence.

"Well, then, I take that as a 'no'. Remember, the terms of your contract state no inflicting of permanent damage. So, gentlemen, enjoy the Bloodcross Key."

********

Seifer clawed at his sweat-damp pillow, oblivious to the matted velvet crushed under his gloveless fingers. His life and his dreams, nightmares, faded into one. The more abused his body became the more indistinct the barrier between them became.

The Cures a nameless young woman would cast on him -- he had lost count how many times -- were having less effect as his ravaged body screamed for rest, rest that rarely came. Several times when drifting into unconsciousness either through the torment overpowering his mind or sheer exhaustion, he would awaken to find yet another using his body for their vengeance.

Sometimes he was merely beaten. But usually it was worse. He had been raped so often that he no longer felt it. Not the agony. Not the humiliation. Nothing, just numbness. Not like that first time when his virginity had been ripped and torn from him. After that, and the rapes that followed soon after, he wept violently, until his body had no more tears to offer. But that didn't stop anyone. Though his tormentors seemed to glory in his tears, the lack did little to discourage their abuse.

But he was wrong to think of it like that. It was only rape if he didn't deserve it. Only abuse if his punishment wasn't just. Only torment if he hadn't been the tormentor first. He had robbed them of far more important things than virginity. Even if it had been the last thread to his romantic dream. The dream was dead. As he deserved to be.

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