It was a very warm and sticky night when Vincent was staking out a car. It supposedly had some stolen evidence, and he intended to find it himself.

            After the sun set, he went over, cautiously, and peered inside. It was a beautiful black Jaguar Roadster. He wanted one for awhile, so part of him simply came over to "check it out".

            He then noticed something, a brown paper bag. It was closed, but very possible it could be what he was looking for. The drivers side window was down just enough for him to reach in and unlock it. So he went around and stuck his arm in.

Vincent] Just a little more…

            As he reached down more, the window suddenly went up, trapping his arm.

What in the hell?

            A cloaked figure came from the shadows, smiling an evil grin.

Well, well, what a mess you are in now, Mr. Valentine.

Vincent] Oh no…

            He reached for his gun, but remembered he left it in the car.

You see, Mr. Valentine, I think of everything. I knew you were going to be stupid enough to leave your gun in your car. Tsk tsk.

Valentine] Go ahead if it makes you feel better you sick fuck!

Oh Mr. Valentine, naughty language will get you nowhere. Heehee.

            The figure steps into the light, a blade in his left hand. It was silver with beautiful designs and a black handle.

Vincent] NO!

            With a flash the blade met his throat, then his chest. Over and over, black blood staining the ground, screams of pain echoeing the streets with a new life.

Now, you see? That wasn't so hard was it?

            The blade met skin again, this time to carve a beautiful design…

            Tifa awoke screaming from another dream. She had them ever since she went to Columbia and saw the body of her lover, massacred. His lovely face, slashed apart with a design. It was his calling card after all…

            She went to her small bathroom and looked in the mirror. She looked like shit, and hadn't slept in over a month. Ever since… he was killed. She missed everything about him. His touch, his smell, even the feeling of him breathing next to her when they stated sleeping together.

            The phone rang.

Tifa] Hello?

Aeris] Hey Tiff, doing any better today?

Tifa] Well, I haven't thrown up yet, is that a good sign?

            Her sense of humor was the same, though.

Aeris] Very funny Tiff, come on, how are you?

Tifa] I've seen better days Aeris, I really have.

Aeris] I understand, listen, we got a note at the station, but I mailed it to you.

Tifa] and?

Aeris] No name, no address. Just a jewels name actually.

Tifa]… what kind?

Aeris] Umm… Sapphire, yeah, that was it.

            Tifa felt like she had just been slugged in the stomach.

Tifa] Aeris… I have to go…

Aeris] Oh all right, call me tonight ok?

Tifa] Yeah… I'll do that.

            She hangs up and dashes downstairs. Despite the fact she was in her pj's still, she got the mail. And sure enough there was the note Aeris forwarded to her.

            Inside she sat down and put on gloves. Slowly, oh so slowly, she opened it.

            The note was on simple white paper. She decided to read to herself. As she began, the voice of Sephiroth came to her ears:

Dear Tifa,

            I wish to offer my sincere condolences for your recent loss. Vincent was a good, yet idiotic acquaintance. But I'm sure you just enjoyed his company because you feel no one else could stand you like he could. And the fact you are alone, depressed, and reading this in your night clothes has something to do with him? I think not, in fact I think it has to do with your continuing quest to rid the world of insane people, such as the one that killed Vincent.

            She sits up and reads closer.

Of course you suspect that I myself did it, mainly from my "mark". When in fact it wasn't me. Despite I was thinking of making him a piece of art. So we are going to have a little fun. To start out, you might want to check the wounds closer. And remember, my lovely sapphire, I am right handed. Sleep well my love, because tomorrow, you see the one you lost in the dark recesses of Columbia, and he isn't pretty anymore…

            Yours,

The White Ghost

            Tifa sat back in her chair, her breathing was intense. Even his writing brought bad memories to surface, the scare of his mark on her slender leg itched as well.

            She quickly called Aeris back.

Aeris] Dr. Gainsborough here.

Tifa] Aeris, its me again.

Aeris] Tifa, what's wrong?

Tifa] No time, listen, I'm catching a flight to Boston.

Aeris] Why?

Tifa] I… need to look at his body. Something… someone… its just wrong.

Aeris] Ok ok, settle down, give me the time and I'll pick you up ok?

Tifa] alright…

            She hangs up.

Oh god… Oh god…