Zack scrunched his nose. Yuck! Why didn't ShinRa ever clean out Sector 9? It smelt like the potty grounds of a King Behemoth!
He splashed through a grungy puddle as he made his way to an old rundown warehouse. The walls flaked white paint as the roof crumbled inward, giving it the appearance of a squashed cake rather than a building. And those chimneys poking up there did look like skewed candles.
Gripping the handle of his broadsword, Zack stepped in through the yawning black hole before him.
"Ooh, blah!!! What a stink!" he moaned, pulling a face like he'd gotten sand in his mouth. Light was minimal, the only source coming from the opening he'd just entered. It was murky and dank with a putrid poisonous gas giving the air a thick sludginess. His head felt stuffy like someone had jammed cotton down his ears. No problem. The mako would deal with that accordingly.
Squaring his shoulders, drew the broadsword from its harness on his back, Zack strode into the darkness. He could barely see, after all, even mako enhanced eyesight could only go so far.
Claws scratched on the cracked stone floor, snuffles, grunts, growls all around, circling him as he slowly made his way further in, broadsword at the ready, his senses on the alert as he strained his ears to pinpoint their locations.
*Shcuuuufff*
Zack leapt back, startled. Heart pounding like a trip-hammer, kicked out in the direction it had happened. His foot made contact. *Thud!* "What?!" he checked again *Thud! Thud!!* "A crate?!" he couldn't believe it! He'd been caught off-guard by a crate?! “Oh. Zack man. Get a hold on yourself. Your jumping at shadows." he admonished himself lightly, then swayed. “What? Dizziness? What's going on? Wh-why... isn't the mako... working?” his legs trembled badly, forcing him to catch hold of the box lest he should collapse.
A flurry of scratches, a rumbling growl, razor-sharp teeth snapping as froth bubbled around the lips.
Zack turned. Only barely catching the creature a blow to the side of its head with the blade of his broadsword. The body hit the floor, sliding under the speed. Another. A blur of metal followed by an agonized yelp! The sound of liquid splattering on the floor. Snarls! A yelp as two more carcasses hit the floor. Zack was reeling. His head spun and his body wouldn't coordinate. Something was definitely wrong. He was on the defensive as more scratching and growling converged on his position. Too many!
He slashed, cut, sawed, hacked. Right, left, up, down. Yelps followed. Zack grunted under the exertion. How was this possible. The report had said nothing about rabid Grandrins! He brought his sword down onto the back of one to his left, immediately a fiery pain blossomed in his right side. He ignored it.
Craning his head frantically from side to side, Zack spotted the opening. No other choice. Sensing their prey was about to run, the creatures quickened the attack. Fangs sunk into his arm, another in his leg. And the adrenaline coursing through his body had to choose that moment to stop working. He cursed as the pain intensified, Zack lashed out, but it was useless, the glowing red eyes of those monsters could see far better in the dark than he could; they dodged his attempts easily.
His thoughts scattered as another set of snapping teeth buried themselves into his sword-arm. His body was sluggish, unwilling to obey him. Vision blurring with every motion. A white and gray blur leapt in front of him, dealing out death with every blow. The Grandrins' faltered, unsure of what to do. While the persistent buggers attached to him simply refused to let go.
“Hn.”Strength left him as he dropped, his broadsword clattering from his grip across the blood smeared floor. His body hurt, his head throbbed; even lying down didn't stop the dizziness. His vision cleared for a brief second, then blurred into darkness.




Is this it? Am I gone?... Is this the Lifestream? So dark. It's not really what I'd expected. What's that light? Crackling. A fire? Am... “Am I dead?”
“Nope. Not exactly!”