Sorrow:Chapter 1 The killing Field 

	Dark clouds hungdead in the sky, the calm before the storm lying heavily across the ominous landscape. In
 the distance thrunder cracked as brilliant spears stabbed through the clouds. The rain was already sweeping across
 the grassy plains, matting down grass and flowers and sending both beasts and men scattering, looking for refuge.
 Thick, heavy drops that fall bodies in battle, thier water spilling out like blood as they hit the ground hard. 
The wind was begining to whip faster, moving the forbidding rain ever closer. The two figures stood silently across
 from each other, coiled like serpents waiting to strike as the squall slowly struck them. One of them was a slender
, middle height man, wearing a long black coat, dark pants, his hair was long, and hung down across his eyes, just 
like his mentor and heroes hair does.He held his deadly sharp gunblade lightly in one hand,just as Headmaster Squall
 had shown him. 
	His eyes were like fire, fueled by hate, anger and fear. The fuel of this consuming fire stood a few feet 
from him, staring intently at him, trying to fathom what was happening. Half a foot taller and 100 pounds heavier,
 the other was a bear of a man, he stood shirtless, wearing only a pair of blue SeeD candidate pants. He ran his 
gloved hands over his shaved head, wiping of the lighter drops of rain that had already gotten this far. His eyes 
were fixed on the other man's, but he was not so intent, not so...evil.

	"I don't think this is a great idea, Sorrow. Its gonne be raining pretty hard soon, we don't want anyone to
 get hurt,"The big man said, looking concernedly at the storm front"We the fire cavern tommorow, and the exam after
 that."

	"Shut up and fight, chicken wuss!"Sorrow hissed.

	"I don't think..." but it was too late, the quicker man was already upon him, gunblade swingupwards. It 
caught the large man on the chin causing blood to spray off and onto his opponents face. The big man bellowed in 
pain,  clutching his wound with one hand, and holding his other hand out, a feeble attempt to stop his opponent.
	
	But Sorrow wouldn't have it. Consumed by emotion, emotions that he harboured since the other man had shown
 up last year, through all thier training together, seeing the other man pass the tests he failed, get the chances 
he missed, getting the girl he had been watching since she arrived, for everything wrong he had done. It gripped his
 arms, tightened his fingers now whiteknuckled grip on his gunblade. Sorrow's leg bolted up as he jumped into the 
air and sailed towards his opponent, he swung the blade down at the outstrechted hand, chopping throught flesh, 
through hot blood,muscles and bone. As if in a trance, Sorrow's finger tightened on the trigger, something never 
allowed in training, and he watched with distance interest as the power surged down through the blade and peak as it
 contacted flesh, completing the wound,severing the hand. Hot blood fueled his fire more, he could see it pouring 
from the hand, it was on him, in him, in his mind in his body, he became that terrible blood. He flowed towards the
ground and rolled, righting himself into a crouch, and ready for the next blow. He had no time to react. The big 
man was in a frenzy. Fueled not by hate, but by hurt, the he flung himself at the smaller man, an uncontrolled wave 
of pain to accompany the blood. He brushed the gunblade aside with a powerful stroke of his remaining hand. He 
screamed, screamed for a man who he had only ever tried to befreind, the only one at Garden who understand what it
was like to know burning rage, to know what it is to feel able to kill. The bear crashed onto Sorrow, knocking the 
wind out of him, pinning him under its immense size. It droves its head into Sorrows face, feeling with pleasure as
bone cracked and blood was drawn. it got up on its knees and swatted at Sorrow's broken head, raking it with a large
paw. It heard that man scream and felt the rush of power as Sorrow began a spell. But the Bear wouldn't have it. He
drove the stump of his severed hand into Sorrows skull, feeling secondhand as the skin was pulled back off the bone,
and as the  cracked bone was driven into Sorrow. And feeling while sorrow stopped kicking, stopped the spell and 
stopped living. 

	The Bear raised himself triumpantly to the stormy sky, feeling as his muscles flex as he roared in most
horrible victory.