Well, I was working on a new chapter of Hollow Men, but my computer crapped out on me and I lost the document :(

I'll get the next chapter out before Sunday though, I promise. However, I was just digging through my HDD, and found this short story I wrote for school a while back.

I edited it to fit characters in FFVII in, though very slightly. Yes, the main character is Zack.

It's a little more angsty than what I usually write, but whaddya think?

I don't own FFVII.

-The Lone Wanderer


This war has been going on for five years now. It should have ended in two. All we had to do was push the invaders out of our land, and keep them at bay until they gave up. We finished that job in two years.

We weren't done though. Oh no. We decided to press the attack. There was no need for it, but we did it anyways. We took the war across other nations who were no more than innocent bystanders who merely sat in our way.

Eventually it all ended up in the invaders' homeland. We already beat them. We already humiliated them. We could have, should have stopped there and just called it quits.

That would have been a clear contradiction to human nature though. Humans are greedy; we are never satisfied with the bare minimum. We crave more, and we take more. We were wasting countless lives just for the sake of saying . . . for the sake of nothing. There was no reason behind what we are doing now.

What does our nation think of this? They cheer and yell and about being the new world power.

What do we, the soldiers, think of this? As soldiers we aren't trained to think. We are trained to shoot the guys shooting at us. We are no longer human. Physically, we are, but mentally . . . we aren't.

Surely other nations will look at us in a different light, not a good one, they will hate us, but a different light for sure. How will our country look to its own people though? Empty. Hundreds of thousands dead. Shop owners, teachers, lawyers, people that make this land run, all dead. But we won. That's what matters.

When we began fighting in their homeland, I saw what our men were doing. They weren't just satisfied with killing. They were pillaging, raping innocent civilians. Their ignorant, burning hatred knew no bounds.

I rebelled. I was with a taking of a small village. When I saw what was happening, I cracked. I shot my own men. My best friends for more than ten years, now dead by my hand. There was no a burning hatred inside me, for my own comrades. It was justified though, right? No. Killing is never justified. Was what I was doing morally right? I didn't care. My human instinct told me it was wrong . . . and I desperately wanted to feel like a human, rather than a monster.

Today is March Tenth, 2024. I am to be executed today, publicly, for the treason I committed. I pleaded guilty. I wouldn't lie. I would've died anyway, eventually. I'm just another name added to the long list of the dead this war created. Angeal Hewley, Genesis Rhapsodos, and now Zack Fair.

I had a chance to be remembered as a glorious soldier in my army. I threw that away though, to save those innocent people. I traded fame and glory to be an anonymous hero for a small village that will probably be destroyed in a matter of weeks.

People hate me. As I walk, hands chained behind my back I am spat at, cursed at. I ignore it. I am called "evil", though I know evil does not truly exist.

All I ask is to be hung in the morning, before I see the dawn. The dawn represents hope, something I know longer have.