The Gold Saucer

[Black Waltz No. 3]

Such a huge slap in the face; a knife in the back; utter betrayal; unforgivable spite. Such inconceivable disgrace; such devastating insult; such unbelievable, outrageous horror. How dare his own brother criticize his basketball skills.

When the Third has finally finished making a fool of himself in front of the residents of Wonder Square, One was dragged further into the saucer, emerging in front of a grand, yet dilapidated hotel.

Looking around, the various entrances to the tunnels were backed by strange, squarish statues. Possibly they were simply damaged. The twisted path took them towards the front doors which opened into a lavish foyer.

Red carpet paved the hallway. Or possibly only stained red, it was hard to tell in the dim candle lighting. From the ceiling hung several oddly shaped chandelier; sort of chunky shapes with four protruding, droopy segments. Orange vegetables, too seemed to be an object of decoration; placed on tables and counters all around.

Paintings on the wall all around were portraits: people who had stayed at the hotel on certain dates. People who had died on the aforementioned dates. People who had made their name at the Gold Saucer. As you walked around, their eyes seemed to follow you. It was always impressive when an artist could capture that; especially if they can achieve the effect without requiring the viewer to even move.

The other guests seemed to be eager to move around despite the late hour. They would shuffle towards the pair of them and seem to vanish into thin air they were going so fast. In fact, they were all in such a hurry they seemed to blur past him as though not fully solid shapes.

One's great admiration of the hotel escalated and escalated as they approached the counter, ringing the bell for assistance. The landlord slid down on a rope and gave them information about their room. They climbed the stairs and found the door of the room they had been given.

"Nice place. Seems a little old."

He dropped his things at the foot of the window-side bed and flopped backwards on it.

His heart seized. Suspended from the ceiling was a hideos plastic bat. His mind jerked; images flooding back. Realisation dawning over him.

With a look of sheer terror, he turned to his brother:

"Three!" he choked.

"This is a scary hotel, isn't it!"

[Black Waltz No. 3]

For some reason, he felt like a block trapped within a square, whose only means of escape was to fire balls at wooden crates. Odd feeling to have, but it was there. It probably meant he was developing cancer or something, but eh, he'd be dead in 5 monthes anyway, at least he could write about it in his blog.

Regardless, here he was, in this piss stained, run down, aborted excuse for a hotel. Oh haha, the butler came down hanging on a rope. Very gimmicky, very cool. Good show young lads!

He really needed a drink. And fast. As it turned out he'd be sharing a room with One. He was somewhat aware that that would have found up happening anyway when the eldest waltz stumbelled in crying for him to give him his 'mummy milk' later that night, but he had wished for at least a few hours of privacy before he had to interact with him.

He gazed for the longest time at One, unsure what to do with him. He shrugged, snatching the bat and rubbing it all over that pus filled, retched, vile body. Soon though, the rubbing turned into beating. He couldn't restrain himself, his blows became harder and harder as he pounded down unrestrained upon the the First, each blow rougher than the last. Eventually he began slapping the other across the face with the object, tearing off bits of skin and covering the shitty, plasticy, tacky bat with blood and sweat and tears.

He couldn't restrain himself. Just couldn't stop. He was getting so much frustrated, vile, mindless pleasure from this. Yet he never stopped hitting the other with anything other than the bat. The bat was the sole focus of blame, the one thing that gave him a held back sense of relief, the constraints giving him the biggest pleasure of them all. He could make the other bleed and cry without using anything sharper.

The red eyes and cheesy grin of the bat smacked again across One's head, the toy squeeking and causing a dog next door to set up a chorus of barking. The barking only added to Three's frustration, making him lift the bat on high and begin to use it to whip One's back. He then slammed the bat into his stomach, jamming it so far in that it caused the Waltz double over and fall to his knees.

He kept on beating him, hearing babies crying now next door due to the dogs awakening them. He hoped the dogs where tearing into their newborn flesh, spurting it everywhere and tearing apart their limbs before gobbling it up in one fel swoop. Yes, yes, what lovely imagery, but it was nothing compared to the kinds he was getting now.

He continued to beat the waltz on the floor with the bat, teching him a lesson he wonts soons forgets. The wings of the creature where beginning to get ripped a little, one of them hanging by a few plastic coils. Yet still Three continued to attack the other, brutally smacking his ass.

The bat squeked in resolve as Three pressed it against One's disformed bottom, thrusting it in through his loins a couple of times before realzing that he was not in the mood for such pleasure. No, that might incite pleasure in the other Waltz, which was not the raw passion he demanded now.

Again the bat slammed against the others hunch, now attacking ferally his wings. Three pounded out feathers as if he was beating a deformed chicken. Blue scattered everywhere and he raised the bat above his head with both hands, slamming down with such force that he swore he might break One's spine. Sadly though, it was only the bat that he broke.

It's head spun off bouncing off one of the walls before rolling on the floor. It's wing snapped in two and the corpse slid down one's back and onto the dust ridden floor.

The Third was breathless. His wings drooped and his eyes narrowed as he felt sweat trickle down his skin.

"Bat's aren't all that scary, One."

He shrugged, throwing himself full forced at the bed and bouncing on his back slightly. He undressed, tossing his awkward and useless clothing aside. It clattered on the floor and he wrapped the blanket around himself, decending into perilless sleep.

[Black Waltz No. 3]

Blow after blow (and not the good kind) rained down on him; testing his will not to cry. Tasting his own blood occasionally, held his arms over his head shielding him from the blows.

Rejecting Three's assertion that bats we'ren't all that scary, One crawled to his bed. Pulling the sheets over himself he began to sob gently; occasionally peeking an eye out to make sure Three was not about to attack once more. However, he was pleasantly surprised on two fronts - one front in particular - to see that the other was derobing for bed.

---

Night fell - though how you could tell in a place like this God only knows - and One lay awake. So incapable of a peaceful sleep was he that he renounced his sheets and began to pace the room. Whether by fear or hurt, not even he knew, he began to cry again. A quick glance at Three, however silenced him instantly. Collecting himself, he made his decision.

Exiting the room quietly so as not to wake his brother, he crept down the stairs to the foyer, pressing a finger to his lips as Mr. Hangman gave him a quizzical look. Once outside in the graveyard, he took the pipe for the Saucer's entrance.

Thankfully the cablecar was still running. As it docked at the Corel Station, One left into the slum town. Ignoring the shambles, he made his way to the outskirts. Finally reaching Three's airship docked ouside, he stepped on board. Firing up the engine was no problem: a simple spell to ignite the tinder.

Steering however was a problem. The vessel careered right and left, tilting well over ninety degrees at times. Despite the entropic swaying of the ship, it seemed to retain its general tendency towards the Gold Saucer.

Covering his ears and gripping his hat, One tumbled forwards as the airship crashed.

Directly into the Haunted Hotel.

Pulling himself out of the ravaged cockpit, One dropped onto one of the wings.

Standing tall, trying not to flush or hyperventilate, he looked down at the Third and spoke with almost genuine confidence.

"Yeah! And let that be a lesson to you ... sir..."

[Black Waltz No. 3]

He was having pleasent little dreams involving The Princess in a field of flowers pulling a rabbit out of a topcat for him. She was a great magician. Smilies. Red Clothes. Happy spring days with antlions and happy little axebeaks. Awww.

He awoke to the smell of flames and the impending sense of doom. Startled he attempted to roll out of the way of the massive white blaze that threatened to consume him, but was was instead pinned down beneath the weight of the ship. The golden mouth of the griffen held him tightly within its jaws.

He felt his breathing rate escalate and tears pouring down the fringes of his face. He was so startled. His hands scrabbled on the metel, flecking off bits of gold paint. He was aware that his lower body was free, so he kicked his legs out, despretly trying to free himself from beneath this prison cage.

He gazed at that precious ship of his. Well, though it had belonged to Zorn and Thorn he felt so deeply for it that they did not deserve it. Oh, this was not the right death for it. He would rather have been riding in the thing when it finally gave way or exploded or something, indeed, so much did he love the thing he would edure a 10 000 foot fall simply to be with his ship in its moment of death.

The tears flowed heavier and blood spurted from his gut. The bottom prong of the griffien's jaw was currently jammed into what felt like his intenstines. He struggled like an insect might, wings flapping rapidly and draining his energy as he forced the prong deeper and deeper in.

He heard One say his line and he literlly burst out laughing, unable to handle the stress. Why, why god why was he so stupid? "O.. One" he lips gurgled, before his face wore a mask of determination. "I .. I will never forgive you."

Oh yes Three, that was deep. Stunningly deep. So astounded would One be with his perfect appeal that no doubt he would rush in to save his dying brother!

"I will hate hate hate you forever" he hissed as if it truly meant something, feeling himself starting to go unconcious.

"I.. I loved her. She was pregant with my child, One. MY CHILD." his thoughts where becomming loosley tangled together as he began to spout nonsence, eyes rolling into the back of his head as weakness consumed him. The fluttering of his wings ceased and he grew to a quite still.

Just then! A scruffy scottish worker barged into the room, bark arched and his hands crinkled with rage. One of the hotel staff tried to hold him back, but he knocked her to the floor. This time, there would be no dasterdly scooby doo chase scene. This time, there would be only pain.

"YER MAKIN' A LAWWA RACKET, ye homosexual rap scallions. Ye fuckin kids wi yer fuckin portable games stations rottin yer mind. CANCER IT IS, CANCER I TELL YE!!" He lifted his iron batton, slamming it down on the disgarded bat. "It's clobberin' time!!!!!!"

Menacingly he stepped towards One and the wreckage that warped the room.

[Black Waltz No. 3]

Menacingly he stepped towards One and the wreckage that warped the room.

Cringing at Three's words, One turned his gaze into the wreck of the ship; desperately hoping not to see this "unborn child". I mean, imagine it: like a Black Waltz; only with wings. Disgusting.
Thankfully no such aberration was present.

A voice behind him froze his heart. Flashbacks to the great war; the encounter of the third kind. Bullets, blood and balloons. Worst of all. Worst of any war. The aftermath. He didn't know if his legs still worked. If history was to repeat itself. He might get killed with a rock or something.

Turning to face his aggressor in hope of a peaceful agreement, he held his hands in the air.

"Look ... blunt-object-wielding man." he began to slowly, cautiously step down from the ruined cockpit of the ship. He realized with a sinking feeling that the gigantic "Hildegard" motif on the side of hull was slightly crumbled and appeared to read: "Hail da gay".

Stepping onto the wing, he continued to try and calm the man.

"We're both adults here, we can settle an argument without violence."

The man hadn't attacked yet, though whether he was listening was debatable; bat still firmly in his hand and he didn't exactly look calmed. Hands still in the air, One stepped from the wing onto the cold floor. Trying to ignore the crumpled corpse-like form of his brother at the stern of the ship, he began to play the diplomat once more.

"We've had our disagreements. You've upset us; we've upset you."

He wasn't entirely sure that they'd upset him quite as much as he'd upset them.

"But we've also had good times, haven't we?"

He was loosing control of his speech now. Diplomacy crumbling to smalltalk and bullshit.

"I'm sure if we look deep down, we'll both realise we have no grudge to bear."

This was most definitely not working.

"And in the words of Gershon Legman-"

Dear God, what was he saying!?

"Make love, not war ..."

Dear God! What was he doing!?

"Right?"

His hand rose to the man's arm, pulling him inwards. Eyes wide with panic and fear, his tongue slipped into the others mouth. His grip on the man tightened; unwilling to let the kiss end. Not for pleasure, no, but for sheer terror at what might happen when it was over.

Nerve reaching breaking point, he released the man. Nearly shaking.

[Black Waltz No. 3]

He surrendered to the kiss, pushing back so despretly as saliva mingled with salvia. Hands coiled into one's back, sharp nails digging down with the sudden sense of release. A groan rose from his throat and hissed into the others mouth. When he pulled away, he gasped for breath.

"... A... A've realized da error of ma ways..." he raised the bar to his face, sighed, and slammed it down repeatedly. "BAD BOY! BAD BOY!" Blood trembelled down his cheeks as his nose burst and sprayed across the floor.

"Younginn, yer tae young fae me. Bu' ill remember dis kiss always in ma 'ert. When ye brek up wi dis chump ya best be givin yer old uncle a call" he winked, throwing down his card on the ground. He beamed, waved and trotted out of the room, dragging the women he had previously punched out with him.

A sharp stillness cut the room. Silence echoed. Then, thunder crackled. Wood slipped and tumbelled to the ground. If One dared turned around he would see his 'brother' atop the airship. Blood spilled from the gaping wound, the red liquid glistening as it mingled with sweat and oil. Somehow, somehow the beast had hauled himself out from beneath the ship, fuelled by such passion.

He glared down on his prey, wide eyes ablaze with unbelivable emotion. His fingers coiled around the wood, snapping it off and throwing it down to thud on the floor. He snapped his fingers, sending down an awful streak of blue towards the other Waltz. Here was the demonic angel, sitting atop his broken throan naked and dying. Upon his head he wore a crown of thorns.

"Is this what you think of me, One? You would rather let your little heartstrings titter and fufill some sick little fantasy than to save your own kin?" He snaked down from atop his wooden palace, becoming a black shadow upon the floor.

"Do I not make you feel?," he spread his hands, black talons coiling inwards on themselves. He rose to his feet, moving in closer to his digusting fellowman. He grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, pulling him in so sharply and encaptulating his lips with his own.

He bit down with such brutal hatred and twisted his head, practically ripping the lip from One's mouth. He turned away, great black wings froming a cresent around his body. When he looked back again there was such feral sadness mixed with mounting hatred.

"I could do such horrible things to you, One. I often dream of it. I would so love to rip a new orifice into your back and thrust my cock inside of it so I can stimulate your nerves. Would you like that?" he snorted, looking back to the broken airship.

He touched his stomach, feeling weak from the blood loss. It wasn't fair. One was supposed to be one of his possessions. He was one of the few things he owned in this world, and he was giving away his heart to those who wanted to kill them.

"I see the way you look at her," he looked at him now, excitement rising as he knew what he was about to say would injure his comrade dearly. "Well One, this morning, it was wonderful I pushed her head between my legs, did you know, she is most gloriously talented at oral. Oh, and I took her, I took her so roughly. She bled again. She bled because she loves me one."

He smirked. "She loves me. And she's MINE, not yours, no, no, no not yours. She wouldn't touch someone as lecherous and as vile as you." His eyes gleamed as he dared to usher in those words.

He offered a hand, "Just as you are mine. Come now, One, I will forgive you because you are my kin. Now, come and stitch up this wound you have sown into my heart."

[Black Waltz No. 3]

The music faded to a high-pitched, piercing flat-line as his lungs clenched tight to stop him from screaming. Yellow eyes narrowed; steaming hatred fizzing over. The room was spinning: lights blurred to a miscellaneous haze in front of his eyes. The roundabout galloping of his heart; the whirlpool that was his reason. Reason? Does an ANIMAL deserve reason?

One could almost laugh with pain. Three's fusillade echoing around him. He could hear her. Her squealing her shouting and it pained him so MUCH. Yes, this night he had cried and sniffed and hidden while the rich, pungent bullshit was fed to him by his brother as usual. But something had to give. Something snapped. Oh it had before, but the oily bastard had always managed to get himself forgiven. No. No, he didn't even have the courtesy to wait for that. Three merely dragged him along, and he was too pathetic to object.
Well it ends.

Stars framed the third waltz in bitter irony. Blood was flecked across the ground Three had trekked to reach him; soiling it as he had everything else. Despite his diminished appearance, he towered over One; meteoric in his resolve. The teeth ripped into one's mouth, shedding the bright red liquid instantly.

One shrieked. Holding a hand to his mouth he glared at Three once more. Such laughable ignorance. Not for the first time did One wonder whether Three truly believed what he said. But it hurt. Oh it hurt. And this time he did laugh with the pain.

He spattered Three with blood as he giggled maniacally. Drawing up to his full height, he spoke down to the other.

"You're an idiot," he spat. "You think we're here for your innocent excitement? You think you can have anyone in your pocket for a power-trip and some petty thrills?"

He continued in a sickeningly sugary voice:
"But I must say, Three-" he began, scratching him behind the ears as a man to a dog.
"I'm breathlessly flattered by your advances. If I'm honest I must confess I've had similar urges."

He thrust a fist of talons into the gaping gut-wound in the other.

"Now here's another wound I've sown into you. I hope it blooms. I hope it fucking blossoms so I can watch the roots burst from your stupid, ignorant throat."

He withdrew his hand.

"She doesn't love you," he sneered. "And she's not frightened by you."

Spitting blood into Three's face, he turned to leave. Hesitating though, he bent to pick up the card lying on the ground: spattered with blood. He spoke again.

"After all though. You are my brother; so I'll forgive you."

Opening the door, he pushed past the crowd of staff investigating the crash. Jumping the balcony with barely a chuckle, he left the hotel once again. Almost befittingly, he sank into one of the graves; not really noticing or really caring where he would emerge.

[Black Waltz No. 3]

As One spoke he felt his features twist and curl into a smile. A wicked grin cut his face and his eyes sparkled with glee as he realized the extent of his brothers rage. What did it matter what words he stated, all that came to mind was his tone.

He snapped with his ignorant jaws like a rat trapped in a corner, hissing like a serpent warning of it's poison. Yet unlike the tree frog with its brightly coloured spots or the hornet with it's blinding yellow signal, the contorted beast before him had no sting. Aha, yes, he was but a measly chicken puffing up it's feathers to try and look big when in rea-

The fist was shoved brutally into his gaping raw wound. He shrieked like a pig, great wings upon his spine snapping apart the air. He felt his hand inside of him shred apart his innards, taking with him a hard bit of ambiguous tissue. He lashed out weakly to wards the other before dropping his hand to his laceration, desperately holding in the black pain.

Now, now he listened to his brothers diatribe, eyes weakly pulsating as he fell to his knees. He looked up at him, practically pleading for mercy as his heart thudded weakly in his chest. Yet soon any sense of beseeching quickly dissipated as he learned the nature of the others words. His eyes hardend into tough coils and his head twisted harshly to the side as he became more and more monstrous with every syllable.

Ignorant!? He? Ha, what stupidity the other dared lecture him with. No, he was not ignorant, he was more aware than he ever would be. He knew of the shallow warmths of lust and love, knew that the two so deeply intertwined and so often caressed him. He knew that same look that was so deeply set within the Princesses and Two's faces when they might think of him. Oh yes, they so adored him, both of them groaning and begging for him.

The thoughts quelled his broken breaths, causing them to deepen and become more regular. He shook his head, a soft smile crossing his features. Though One was leaving, he raised his crackled voice so he might hear him. He wanted these thoughts to assail his ears and rape his mind. Wanted the other to lie still in bed tonight and think only of him and those festering words.

"She groaned, One. That little whore in sheep's clothing, oh, she loved it. She lapped it up like the petty little bitch she is. She does not fear me because she LOVES me! Oh, and she squealed, and shrieked, and grasped the floor as she squeezed out her white hot lust. All for me" he laughed bitterly, now doubling over. He wasn't sure if the other could hear, but he continued his rant to himself.

"Ahaha, oh, and, what a wicked creature she is. I disseminated her womb with my seed, filled her to the brim," he giggled, raising his voice to its highest pitch, OH! OH! OH! Threeeee! is all she could muster as her body collapsed into mine. Ahhh, One, you cannot possibly understand. Soon, she will be full of my child..."

Laughed escaped his lips as he began to become dissilusional, falling backwards onto the floor as his head spun with dizzyness and excitement. "Oh yes, my child. That horrid little abortion contained within her repulsive, sinful hips. Ahhaa, I'm going to find it, One. I'm going to shred her open and find it among all the other dried, shriveled babies she bore with all those other men she fucked. Shred her open like a big plumb fruit and find that quivering mass. Ahaha, dada! Papa, daddy, father! Oh don't cry, no, no don't cry, your dad's here. And I'll squeeze him! Squeeze him until his little head POPS! Ahaha, and then I'll suckle the blood. Suckle him until it hurts no more."

He rolled, passing out with the pain and the pleasure.

--

Swirls of red and blue filled his eyes. He blinked, bringing a hand to his stomach. Fresh stitching closed the open wound. He turned his head to wards the two men who over shadowed him.

"Stupid Waltz"

"Lazy Waltz"

""Damaged our ship he has!"

"Yes and not even completed his task!"

Somehow even the frowns between the two jesters seemed mocking and snide.

Thorn leaned in to the Black Waltz.

"Not happy, is the Queen," he reprimanded, "not happy at all, Number Three!"

"Several thousand gil," interjected the blue one, "Yes, you have angered her now. You will of course complete your task with utmost urgency now, Waltz!"

They turned to leave him. Not before a warning from Thorn however:

"Next time, expect not our mercy."

[Black Waltz No. 3]

END

I'm sure you'll be happy to know ~