Ok, the usual - they aren't mine and I didn't call Chris Carter and ask for permission.
However, they have been used without any ill intentions or dreams of making it rich in the real world - this is for me and for you and for fun.
This is a joint-effort story - a MILLION BILLION ZILLION thanks to my awesome Sunshine!
Shannon, your friendship and collaboration is probably the single most awesome thing to happen to me since I found out I was pregnant with the little sailor! Thank you for EVERYTHING!
Please read and review!
A Life For a Life
Orders barked in ear-splitting volume melted into low, distorted tones - the deep hum filled the air. The panicked pace of guns pulled from holsters and waistbands and hidden pockets under black trench coats became an erie slow-motion movie in front of her eyes. Just like one of Mulder's cheesey black-and-white numbers where the action was a cacophony of noises and movements and then the camera would slow down dramitcally as it paned the entire scene.
She saw each face as if looking at the television screen - the camera hitting every bad guy's sweaty features in succession, enhancing the drama and the evil. Then to the hero with his determined eyes, mouth open in protest as he summoned his strength for the final showdown. Finally the heroine, frozen in fear as she looked death in the face. It was almost laughable thinking of that typical woman, helpless in her fragility.
But apparently she was the heroine in this movie. All-together incomprehensible since she had never played the damsel in distress in her entire life - and she was certain the boy was the one in need of saving. And yet here she was, watching his thin but sturdy frame lunge in her direction, eyes open wide and wet with fresh tears. An inaudible scream escaping from his gaping mouth, she felt his right hand heavy in the middle of her chest as he shoved her off-balance to the floor below.
Falling, she saw the muzzle flash from the shot gun that only miliseconds ago had been aimed directly at her. The blast a muted thump in her ears, she watched the recoil force the shooter's stance to waiver only slightly, his sure footing and skill evident. Then the boy, his graceful flight in front of her thrown off its path as the projectiles assaulted his body - his torso collapsing around the force of the impact, sending him backwards to land on top of her.
He felt so heavy, covering her like an enormous bag of sand only half-full and changing shape to match the curves of her body trapped underneath. Like dead weight.
Suddenly there was no sound, the fury of the gun fight around her completely erased as she desperatly strained to hear him breathing. Was his chest rising and falling or was he simply moving with her? She stopped mid-exhale and forced the trembling muscles in her chest to still.
And felt nothing...