Author's Note: My obsession with the series X has driven me to fanfiction. :P This is just my somewhat surreal musing on what happened throughout the series and the rapport the characters seem to have with fate… Enjoy I hope!
Fourteen marionettes hung suspended by threads that to a casual observer would appear not nearly strong enough to hold the life-sized puppets. Not that there would ever be a casual observer to the haphazard display in a room filled with neither light nor darkness, neither sound nor silence.
Somewhere a bridge was collapsing.
For the first time, one of the puppets moved. It was a small movement, just a smile, or rather a smirk.
Snap.
The threads that had been wrapped tightly around the puppet's arms and legs and neck suddenly snapped in unison with the suspension wires of the bridge far away and he fell, disintegrating into sakura petals that disappeared into nothingness as they drifted away.
Another puppet opened his eyes and vaguely noted that he was not the only one watching the first fall away. One green eye met a pair of honey-colored ones and both puppets neither spoke nor moved but simply knew.
Somewhere a wish was fulfilled.
And more threads snapped, letting another puppet drop without ever making a single sound or movement on his own. Ribbons of cloth rustled softly as they too drifted into a void.
The green-eyed puppet did not react and the honey-eyed puppet merely stared sadly. Another puppet twitched, nearly knocking off the glasses perched carelessly on the end of his nose. But the threads clinging to him tightened and seemed to multiply. He fell back into a contemplative stillness.
Somewhere a machine was whirring.
Another set of threads snapped, the sound reverberating among the marionettes. Drops of water evaporated without heat. A tear slid down its companion puppet's cheek but she never awoke.
The one who had twitched stirred again slightly, ignoring the blood drawn as the threads tightened, cutting into its skin.
Somewhere rain was falling.
The snaps seemed to echo more loudly this time, perhaps as the room grew emptier. Another puppet fell, sizzling away in little balls of lightning, having never once woken up.
Another twitch and the threads grew taught in another warning. The puppet stilled again, seeming to sleep once more while listening carefully.
Somewhere church bells were ringing.
Her eyes fluttered open just before the threads snapped and she looked up at the small puppet who was covered in the most threads, held the most tightly in place, and who seemed the most deeply asleep. To the green-eyed puppet it looked like she wanted to say something before the tiny flames briefly lit up the room before dying away without so much as a lingering spark.
Somewhere a woman choked and tried to scream, her heels just inches from the ground.
The puppet who had moved before suddenly raised his head, a dangerous smile spreading across his lips. The threads holding him snapped seemingly of their own accord and rather than falling away as the others had, this puppet gracefully stepped down, standing on his own two feet. He surveyed the rest of the marionettes and wondered why he was the only one who had broken free.