The Taste of Misery

BY : voltress
Category: Final Fantasy VIII > Yaoi - Male/Male > Squall/Zell
Dragon prints: 645
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VIII, nor the characters therein. I don't make money off this story.

~ The Taste of Misery ~

By Julie, August 2002

Chapter 1: Dinner

POV:  Squall

A hollow void.  A darkened well of pain that seeps so deep, there is no sign of light.  To get out, I don't know if I ever can. 

The pain is overwhelming.  And each movement I make is a breaking pace, a thundering beat of my heart slowing with every step that the body takes.  The body, because it is no longer mine.  It is a hollow husk that I am forced to live in, that I am forced to exist in.  And that is all I can do now, exist in this barren life, this waste that has become me.

To explain myself, and my horrors, it won't be simple.  I am this now, a living dead beast that survives on the blood of others.  I am a monster, and I can only pray that one day he will come, and I will finally reach the divine sweet oblivion of death.

Until the taste of nothingness can reach the body, my soul drives me forward to find the demon that cursed me with this undead life.  And I shall hunt her, the Goddess of the Night.  I shall plague my wrath upon her, and she shall one day realize her mistake in giving me the sweet kiss from her vampire teeth.


Here, now, walking down the dark streets of Timber, I go.  My eyes seeing everything, and I am uncaring of all the horrors that plague life around me.  I am death, and the living are but meat for me.  They are cattle in their pointless lives.  Food. 

I can smell their blood pumping through their veins.  That driving hunger pounds into me with the force of a train.

Once I cared about them.  Cared about protecting them, from those like the Beast I now am.  I used to hunt down vampires.  Kill them.  It was my life's work, my goal, my purpose.  But now I am one of Them.  I am a monster, just like the others, without purpose.

So I don't care anymore.  I feed when hungry, only existing for two moments in my future: Killing Her, and being killed by Him.


Catching a scent, my entire body lights up in desire.  It's a sweet scent, thickening my blood.  And I realize, in a sudden moment of surprise, that this scent has more than just made me hungry.  I am actually aroused by it -- by the blood that I can smell pumping through someone's veins.

Calming my outer being, I can hear the thunder of this person's heartbeat.  I can hear the beating -- the pumping of blood.  Instinctually, I turn and follow my nose.


Of course I am lead to a darkened alleyway.  And the reason I could smell the person's blood so well was because I'd caught his scent of fear.  Fear pumping the blood harder, the heart pounding faster, and the smell of adrenalin -- his scent had hit me like lightning.

The blonde boy was 14 years old -- I can tell by the smell of his body.  He is standing with a couple older men around him.  He is afraid, but he's trying not to be.  And he is not trying to get away.

One of the men's hands move over the boy's body.  The grimy fingers touch between the boy's legs, sending another wave of fear from the blonde's body.  I can tell he's trying to act calm about the groping, trying not to fight the men off.

So I step back.  Standing in the perfect mask of darkness, I watch the center man lean down and press his lips to the 14-year-old's.  The boy struggles, but I know he is trying not to.  He's trying to control himself, to control his fear.

Even with the long distance between us, I can now hear the soft whimpers coming from the boy's lips.  And I can hear the men's taunting.

"You wanted it," is one man's soft growl.

"Maybe go home and cry to mommy?" another voice mocks.

"Fuck him and be done," the third says.

"Alright, alright," the first man says.

I watch one man press the boy hard to the building wall with one hand, undoing his own pants with the other.

At first, no reason to intervene comes to mind.  I can simply wait for the men to rape the boy before stepping in myself to devourer the blonde's sweet taste.  It's why I'm here: To kill.  But then, I don't see any reason to let those men contaminate my dinner with their disgusting bodies.

I am not used to being a vampire completely yet.  I am one, and think as one.  I breathe as a vampire, walk as a vampire, live as a vampire.  But my hunting isn't like the other Beasts of the Night. 

Pulling my Gunblade from its sheath, I don't even bother to step out of the darkness.  Training has taught me it's better to keep the situation in your favor as long as possible.  Cheating doesn't even come into mind, because it isn't cheating when you're trying to keep alive.  Kill as quickly as possible, or it could be your throat that's slit.

The blade of my weapon whistles as it slices through the air.  I stay in the darkness, watching the gunblade fly across the alleyway and into one of the three men's chests.  His body hurls backwards from the impact and he becomes stapled to the wall.  He was dead before he could even scream.

The rapist stops removing his pants, his eyes quickly search the surrounding area as he frantically puts his pants back together.  The second man has pulled out a gun. 

See why I stayed in the cover of darkness?  Not that the bullets could kill me, but I still feel the power of the metal penetrating my body.  It's not a comfortable sensation at all.


"What the fuck? Who's there?" the gunman's shaky voice yells, his gun quivering right along with his words.  But his shaking stops all at once as a metal wire wraps around his neck and he's collapsed to the ground.

I let my hand fall to my side, thankful for the weapons I possess.  The wire had two heavy weights on each end, making a simple, effective weapon.  Thrown with enough force, it could have taken the frantic cattle's head off, but somehow I didn't believe the blonde boy needed to see that.

The rapist is now directing his attention to the blonde boy.  With his words, it is apparent that he feels the boy is the cause of tonight's horrors.

"You little fucker!" the man says, and I can see a knife in his hand.

The boy is too afraid to even move.  Two people just died in his presence, and as far as the blonde kid knew a fucking poltergeist was flying around the alleyway.  No, sorry child, only a vampire.  And you're for dinner.

I decide now is a good moment to remove my cloak of darkness.  No reason to hide when that last man only has a knife. 

I clear my throat and watch the rapist jump.  He grabs the blonde boy and holds him in front as a shield.  Disappointing really, but not surprising to see the rapist use the child as protection. 

I step forward.

"No!  Back the fuck away, you freak!" the man says, holding his knife to the boy's throat.

I am uneasy now, thinking back to my training.  I really should have just killed this third man from where I had been standing in darkness.  It would have been easier.  Vampire desires had clouded my better judgment.

I am going to kill the blonde boy.  It's not his life I am concerned over.  It's the blood that he will lose and the time I will lose drinking -- if the adult slices the child's throat.

In a motion that is too quick for a normal human to move, I have pulled a handgun from my hip and fired.  Three shots, all hitting the rapist square in the face.  Not pretty, but a certain improvement over the man's looks.

My vampire abilities made up for my lack of clear-thought.  In mortal form, stepping out of the darkness like that would have been a mistake.  The blonde would have died before I could save him.  But all is well, my reflexes working magically.

My handgun returns to its holster as I walk to see if my dinner has been damaged.  A lot of work for a meal, some might say.  I might have been better off eating each of the men as well.  But my pallet doesn't agree with lowlifes such as the newly dead.  The boy is what I want and why I'm here.

He is still running an adrenalin rush, and his breathing quickened to a harsh pace.  Once I am near him, I place my gloved hand on his blood-splattered face, gliding my hands slowly over the soft, milky flesh.

His sapphire eyes watch me as his breathing slows.  Placing my fingers on his neck, I am pleased to see the dagger hadn't nicked the boy's sweet skin.

Removing a white cloth from the inner pocket of my jacket, I bring it to his face.  Wiping away the blood gently, I can smell his blood flowing normally.  I can hear the thunder in his heart calming, and his body relaxes against my touch.

"You killed them," he says to me.

I simply nod, continuing to clean the disgusting blood from his flesh.  I am, of course, fighting every desire to sink my teeth into his skin, to lick the blood off him -- clean -- and run my hands over his body, and force him to die in my arms.

It was a new sensation, being turned on by my own hunger.  Hunger for the boy.  Hunger for the blood pumping its sweet rhythm through his veins.  Erotic desires flowing with images of the crimson liquid pouring down his pale neck, and to feel his lips on mine.  I wanted to taste his body: inside and out.  I wanted to watch him tremble and die.

"Holy shit," he says, looking from me to the newly dead.  "You...." he managed the word out while turning his sapphire eyes to sparkle up at me once more.

Pushing my now bloodied cloth back into its place in my coat inner-pocket, I force myself to step back.  "They were going to rape you."

His face cringes, though I can tell he's fighting desperately to stop the reaction.  "Y-yeah, but," he says, yet that is all his body would allow. 

A blue tear runs slowly down his one tattooed cheek, but he doesn't move.

I turn to the man stapled to the brick wall.  Putting my hand on the handle to my gunblade, I rip it from the hung-man's chest.  The body collapses as blood streaks down the brick wall and the silver blade to my sword.

Looking back to the boy, I speak.  "C'mon."  I nod towards the main street to my left.

"What?" he says, sniffling and wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

"Come with me," I elaborate.  "Unless you want to stay."  As I sheath my bloodied gunblade, I motion to the dead bodies with my free hand.

He looks to them before jumping and walking quickly to me.  I take his hand and pull him towards the street.


I could have eaten him there.  Sucked all his blood from his beautiful body, but I didn't.  I took him with me, heading to a more private place, to the hotel I'd been venturing towards before his scent caught my attention.

At the hotel I'd be able to eat him leisurely.  Sure, vampires are known to drink entire bodies dry, leaving the drained husks after one dinner.  But I hadn't quite come accustomed to eating just anything.  I was a new vampire, and I hated what I was.  If my teeth sank into something, it had to be worthy.  Otherwise, I'd let myself starve.

I also had a injection that I gave myself.  Being an ex-hunter of the Beasts, I had been given a special elixir that would fight the Vampire Kiss.  If it was taken soon enough, and a lot of it was used, the bitten could be cured.  It was painful for me, but worth the side effects I'd discovered.  Used in the correct dose, I was able to fight off some of my vampire-hungers.  I didn't need blood as much as the normal of my breed.

Also, thanks to the injection, I have immunities towards things such as silver and garlic.  Not completely, but enough.


I am forced to stop when the boy pulls his hand from mine.

"Wait," he says, watching me with wide eyes.  "You just fucking killed three people."

I turn to face him, stepping closer.  "You'd rather have been raped?" I ask softly.

"W-well," he mumbled as his mind fidgeted with the information it had been forced to absorb.  "No!  But you don't understand."

"Understand what?" I ask, rethinking the boy's reactions to the men's touches.  The boy had wanted to run, and probably would have normally.  But he'd forced himself to stay.  He'd forced himself to allow those men to touch him. 

The blonde can't answer me.  Of course it comes to me that the boy had meant to give the men sexual favors for something.

"You're a whore?" I ask, not sounding surprised.  But I was.  The boy was 14 years old, beautiful beyond a doubt.  And his aura didn't have that lowlife glow about it.  I couldn't help but feel a pang of remorse for the child's profession.  It was obviously his chosen profession.  Not happily worked, but worked.

He gave me a solemn nod.

I didn't have an answer.  As a vampire, I couldn't care less about common law on murder.  I murdered every day.  But, as a mortal I had to care.  And I'd murdered those men.  The boy here thought of me as mortal, so I had to show some sort of reaction.  But there wasn't anything I could think of.  So I simply took a more vampire approach to the matter.

"How much were they going to pay you?" I ask. 

He looks up, surprised by my question.

"Um... nothing," he says softly, but his eyes are fiercely burning into me.

I shift.  "Then why?"

"I needed a place to sleep," he tells me.  "I was...."  His words become broken.  He isn't stuttering, just tired and unable to explain himself.  Not out in the cold night air as he was.

I reach forward and take his hand into mine once more.  "Come."

He blinks at me, unsure.  He does follow me, allowing me to take him away from the darkness.

I know he doesn’t trust me.  But, honestly, he doesn’t fear me either.  It was as though wherever I was taking him had to be better than where he had just been standing.  I hate to ruin the poor boys delusions, but I wasn't taking him to a safe place.  I was taking him to a hotel room where I'd eat him.  The beautiful blonde boy was still to be my dinner.


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