The Eighth Fantasy

Prologue

There were petals swirling on the blood stained tiles beneath his feet. Pink petals, as he remembered, such a light beautiful shade like a Monet painting. And then it started again. He saw a blur of black, at the corner of his eye. He didn’t turn around. He didn’t have to, he knew what it was. It was the beginning.

"What are you doin’ punk?"

He stood up slowly, trying not to alarm his attacker.

"Turn around, kid." The coarse voice said.

He did as he was told. The glare of the sun prevented him from seeing his attacker’s face. All he saw was the glint of metal, waving in the air.

"Wha’cha doing there boy? Pickin’ flowers? I told you to get-" The man’s eyes trailed down to the boy’s feet where his face suddenly grew serious.

"Bring it o’er." The man said gesturing with his gun. "Don’t try anythin’ funny kid, or I’ll blow yer fuckin’ brains out."

Squall walked closer to the armed man. In the back of his mind he knew that backup was coming. But, he may very well be dead before they arrived. Yet that was not how it ended, he knew how it ended. But he still felt that dagger of fear in his abdomen.

"Yer tryin’to bust my joint kid?" The man demanded as he waved his pistol dangerously close to the boy’s chin. "Do yer wanna die today, kid? Do you?!" He screamed into the boy’s ear.

"Let him go."

The gunman turned his head to see a man standing across the room, a gun aimed at the viewer’s temple. He approached the two figures slowly.

"Let him go." He repeated.

Squall felt the man’s grip loosening. And then the shot came. It was the clap of thunder that splattered blood all over the Monet floor.

Squall saw his partner collapsing to his knees and what happened next did not matter. A flash later and the gunman was dead and Squall was kneeling beside his wounded friend.

"It’s just a graze, Squall . .he just grazed me." The man in his arms whispered.

The man’s bright features were blurred from years of absence. His name was only an echo in the far end of a dim tunnel. But it was the name Squall was whispering as he woke from his nightmare.

"Hold on, Seifer. Please, hold on"