Destroyers of My World

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII, as you know by know, belongs to Square. I don't know why you would think otherwise. All characters are under their copyright, so you can't steal them and make a profit out of them without getting slapped with a lawsuit. Just warning ya. ^_~
Started: February 3, 2000
Finished: February 3, 2000

My right arm is numb. I can't feel it anymore.

I can't feel a lot anymore. My right hand refuses to move, blood gushing from the three points of entry near the wrist. But that's not the worst. If only it was, then I would feel a lot better. Everything's gone wrong. Everything that could go wrong had gone wrong.

Shinra took Dyne away from me in one cruel act. Why, God, why did you let me live? Why? I don't deserve to be alive still, not after letting Dyne go. Not after allowing those damn Shinra into our lives. If anything, Dyne should be the one alive, God! He had a daughter to go back to! God, why!? I shake my head and run, not wanting to think of Dyne anymore. The town was in trouble; I had seen smoke from the mountain. What had those Shinra bastards done to my beloved Corel!?

I froze upon reaching the bottom of the mountain, my heart stopping along with everything else in my world. Fire was everywhere I looked -- in the houses, in the wooden wagons, in the barrels that stored the town's food. Over there -- the playground where the little children used to play . . . flames. And over there -- the mayor's house . . . Hell's visage seemed to come out of the fires and throw me a mocking sneer. I turn my head again, and. . .

Oh, God.

Some part of me isn't exactly surprised to see my own house up in flames. It reasoned that there was no reason for my house to be spared such a horrid fate. But the rest of me. . .

"Myrna!!" I scream, dashing towards the house as if my life depended on it. The fires of my house seemed to touch the heavens, licking the skies with tendrils of red-orange malice. "Myrna, where are you!?"

It didn't take me long to find her.

She had managed to get outside of the house, but didn't survive past there; the heavy smoke had been too much for her lungs. I could tell she was dead even before I got close. I cried as I knelt next to her, looking at her dark, midnight-colored hair that would never be worked into a braid . . . her eyelids, that housed beautiful brown eyes that would never see light again . . . her skin, which would never again brush against mine as we lay in bed together.

The love of my life was gone. My whole world had been taken away from me. By those damn Shinra. The destroyers of my world.

"God. . .," I whisper, gathering Myrna in my arms and holding her close, "what's da use of livin' now? I ain't got nothin' to live for now. . . Myrna's gone, everything's gone. . ."

I want to die. I so want to die right now. But. . .

. . . But a call reaches my ear. I lift my gaze from my dead wife and look around, hoping I'm not hallucinating.

". . . Help. . . Someone. . . Anyone! . . . Please . . . help. . ."

I look at Myrna one last time, weeping as I kiss her cold forehead and set her down again. "I love you," I manage as I turn, racing towards the voice. A part of my heart stayed with Myrna as I ran away, but I tried to ignore the pain.

The voice belonged to Eleanor. Dyne's wife.

She had gotten trapped underneath a wagon, her legs disappearing from view under the wreckage. Her auburn hair was stuck to her forehead as she lay there, clutching a bundle to her chest. She looked like she had been crying a long time when I reached her.

"Barret!" she gasps, tears of joy springing from her eyes as she caught sight of me. "You're alive!"

"Eleanor. . .," I murmur, kneeling next to her, "can ya move?"

Eleanor just looks at me for a long moment, then whispers, ". . . Dyne. Is he. . .?"

I can only nod stiffly. "The . . . Shinra. . ."

She weeps. I hold her shoulders as she cries, hugging her in that awkward position. I stand again to try to move the wagon, forcing all my strength into the task. The wagon remains in the same position, and I crouch next to her again. She must see the distress and sadness in my eyes, because she smiles weakly. "Leave me, Barret," she whispers to me. "Get out of here and live. For Myrna, me, and Dyne. . . For all of us." She offers the bundle in her arms to me, and I slowly take it from her. "Please . . . take Marlene with you."

Shock registers in my mind and I look down at the bundle, seeing the baby girl undisturbed by all the destruction around her. "Eleanor--"

"Please, Barret," she begs, interrupting me. "There's no way to get me out. . . If you take Marlene, I can at least die knowing she's safe with you." The emotional pain is visible on her face, and I grasp her hand futilely. "Don't die, Barret. Leave here and live. For all of us . . . but especially Marlene." She reaches out and I bend over, allowing Eleanor to kiss her sleeping child on the forehead. She then kisses my cheek softly, and lays down again.

". . . G'bye, Eleanor." I say, standing and turning to leave. Glancing one last time at her, I run back into the fire and disappear from her line of vision.

My right arm is still numb. I can't feel it anymore, and I don't believe I ever will again.

I had taken off my shirt and wound it around my bloody arm, not wanting my blood to get all over Marlene. She continues to sleep even now, as I walk through the plains near the remains of Corel. I must look like hell; my arms are darker than usual with my blood and ash that had stuck to the blood when it was sticky.

I feel a strange mixture of emotions running through me as I walk, but a strange tranquility has enveloped me for the moment. Eleanor had told me to live. And I planned to do that now. I didn't want to die -- not with such heavy expectations. My left arm cradles Marlene closer as I think about those expectations, and I sigh. Only a baby, and she had lost everything.

My thoughts shift slightly and I think about the ones who had taken away everything from me and Marlene. Shinra. Shinra Incorporated. The damn company would pay for these crimes-- no, these sins. There was no crime defined that could explain such a horrendous act. They were devils . . . each and every single one of them. They would pay. I would have my revenge.

I would destroy the destroyers of my world.

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