Title: In the end
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None
Summary: I don't want to give anything away, so what I've already stated is all you get.
Feedback: I will love you forever. =D
A/N: This story is something that has been lingering in my mind for quite sometime now. I know I'm rather mean at the beginning, but I promise it all turns out ok in the end. **********************************************************************
CH.1 Where for art thou Mulder?
Scully needs him.someone else is demanding him
She closed her eyes for what felt like only moments, but when she opened them to find herself weighed down by something she could not identify, for the thick darkness engulfed her, panic shot through her and her mind raced frantically to remember where she was, or what the object on her chest was, she could only remember going to sleep in her own bed. Her breathing was suppressed, and with every desperate intake of air, the object on her chest held great resistance, denying room for inflation, resulting in shallow draws of breath that together with her panic, dulled her consciousness.
It was then she noticed the intense throbbing in her head, as though she had suffered a traumatic blow or was exposed to some sort of immobilzer, whether through inhalation of ingestion, she didn't know. She attempted to lift her hands to remove the object from off of her chest, but discovered her hands were fastened her sides. She was unable to conclude if they were physically tethered to her, or is she was unable to lift them. To find some kind of clarification, she then tried to lift her head but could not. Her lips moved to from the word 'help' but she didn't have the necessary lung capacity to expel the cry. Instead she released rasped whispers. With her eyelids growing heavy and her thoughts more distorted, she succumbed to the unconsciousness that welcomed her with open arms.
She was rudely brought back to her unwanted reality with a hard kick to the ribs. She cracked her eyes to see a blurry face hovering over hers, it's lips moving but she heard nothing but the growing ringing that echoed in her ears. Another blow, to her face this time was delivered, and the blurred face that was becoming clearer was contorted and red with rage, the lips moving fast and the darkness was slowly turning into color. She felt warm blood trickle down her cheek from where she'd been hit.
Her hearing was restored slowly, and the cries of what she determined was a man as her vision cleared became louder as the ringing dimmed. The yells stopped and fear sent a shiver over her as she recognized whom it was who beamed over her. "Where is Mulder?" He demanded. Sweat slid down his chin and fell onto hers and rolled down her neck. "I don't know." She choked out in a voice thick with non-concealable fear and helplessness. She closed her eyes tight and wrinkled her forehead as she saw the fist pull back and screamed as it struck her already gaping cheek, widening the wound with it's impact. "WHERE IS HE?" The voice sounded off again with all the fury and contempt of Antaeus in cocytus, one of the giants in the ninth and final circle of Dante's hell but laced with a spine-chilling assertive tranquility.
Her lips quivered as she debated whether to answer, as her response would most likely result in another blow. Her lungs wanted to hyperventilate, but the object on her chest, which she would soon discover the nature of, prevented it.
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None
Summary: I don't want to give anything away, so what I've already stated is all you get.
Feedback: I will love you forever. =D
A/N: This story is something that has been lingering in my mind for quite sometime now. I know I'm rather mean at the beginning, but I promise it all turns out ok in the end. **********************************************************************
CH.1 Where for art thou Mulder?
Scully needs him.someone else is demanding him
She closed her eyes for what felt like only moments, but when she opened them to find herself weighed down by something she could not identify, for the thick darkness engulfed her, panic shot through her and her mind raced frantically to remember where she was, or what the object on her chest was, she could only remember going to sleep in her own bed. Her breathing was suppressed, and with every desperate intake of air, the object on her chest held great resistance, denying room for inflation, resulting in shallow draws of breath that together with her panic, dulled her consciousness.
It was then she noticed the intense throbbing in her head, as though she had suffered a traumatic blow or was exposed to some sort of immobilzer, whether through inhalation of ingestion, she didn't know. She attempted to lift her hands to remove the object from off of her chest, but discovered her hands were fastened her sides. She was unable to conclude if they were physically tethered to her, or is she was unable to lift them. To find some kind of clarification, she then tried to lift her head but could not. Her lips moved to from the word 'help' but she didn't have the necessary lung capacity to expel the cry. Instead she released rasped whispers. With her eyelids growing heavy and her thoughts more distorted, she succumbed to the unconsciousness that welcomed her with open arms.
She was rudely brought back to her unwanted reality with a hard kick to the ribs. She cracked her eyes to see a blurry face hovering over hers, it's lips moving but she heard nothing but the growing ringing that echoed in her ears. Another blow, to her face this time was delivered, and the blurred face that was becoming clearer was contorted and red with rage, the lips moving fast and the darkness was slowly turning into color. She felt warm blood trickle down her cheek from where she'd been hit.
Her hearing was restored slowly, and the cries of what she determined was a man as her vision cleared became louder as the ringing dimmed. The yells stopped and fear sent a shiver over her as she recognized whom it was who beamed over her. "Where is Mulder?" He demanded. Sweat slid down his chin and fell onto hers and rolled down her neck. "I don't know." She choked out in a voice thick with non-concealable fear and helplessness. She closed her eyes tight and wrinkled her forehead as she saw the fist pull back and screamed as it struck her already gaping cheek, widening the wound with it's impact. "WHERE IS HE?" The voice sounded off again with all the fury and contempt of Antaeus in cocytus, one of the giants in the ninth and final circle of Dante's hell but laced with a spine-chilling assertive tranquility.
Her lips quivered as she debated whether to answer, as her response would most likely result in another blow. Her lungs wanted to hyperventilate, but the object on her chest, which she would soon discover the nature of, prevented it.