I have so many FanFic ideas ready and waiting that I think I could drown in them. counts them on my iTouch* Six? Six sounds about right, split evenly between Tangled and Victorious fics. I know it may not seem like much, but when two of them are currently running stories that I have to conclude with the addition of four oneshots, it's a lot, trust me. Where will I find the time? Ugh, I feel like I'm letting you all down Dx

Anyway, this idea came to me last night. Sorry, but it's another dark fic (I've been watching too much Ghost Whisperer). But I just couldn't let this go. And for some reason, people seem oddly attracted to dark fics. So there we go, win-win. Yay! Enjoy =)

-CheckItOutGirl=)

A/N: Flynn's point of view. Starts right after Flynn dies. Check my profile for important stuff, blah blah, you know the drill. Please don't hate me! I'm trying to balance Tangled and Victorious all at once, but more Tangled ideas come than Victorious. Probably because Victorious doesn't put out new episodes enough. *glares at Victorious producers*

. . .

Hellfire and Angel's Choir

I could feel myself slipping away. I knew I didn't have much longer...I had merely a few minutes—probably seconds, really—left with Rapunzel. I knew I needed to make it count.

I collected my jumbled, fuzzy thoughts as best as I could. There was something I needed to say to her before I left her forever.

"Hey...hey..." I tried to call to her, but it came out as a weak mumble. She didn't stop singing. "Rapunzel."

"What?" Her tears were trailing down her face like crystalline waterfalls now. She had had my hand in her hair, but with my distraction, it had fallen toward her soft cheeks. I stroked my thumb across them, scraping away some tears and collecting them.

"You were my new dream."

She gave a sad laugh, the tears now flowing freely down her angelic face. "And you were mine."

I felt my lips twitch up in a faint smile. I could die happy now. As long as I knew she felt the same way, I could be at rest. Suddenly everything in my body felt heavy as lead. Darkness enveloped my whole body, and then—

Nothing.

I was in complete, pitch blackness. All around me was onyx—cold and dark and unforgiving as a prison. Was this really what death was like? All I'd heard was stories about going into a brilliant white light and seeing those who loved you on the other side. I thought my parents were dead. I always thought I'd meet them, for once. Obviously not this early, but eventually.

But no. There was nothing bright or pure here. It was like I was enveloped in the darkest of shadows.

Then suddenly, a single bright spotlight flashed down upon me. I instinctively looked up, but the light was painfully bright. It was too much for my eyes to penetrate.

As I squinted my eyes, my other senses sharpened in response. Did I even still have senses? A prickly sensation went across my skin as the hairs on my arms and neck stood straight up. My ears were the next to heighten.

I really wished they hadn't.

In addition to the grim, black room and the blinding spotlight, I could suddenly hear a heavy, loud, menacing breathing growling around me, echoing off the walls. If there were walls here.

Then, it did something that—even though I'd never admit it in life—sent even the Flynn in me shaking like a leaf.

"Speak," it rumbled. It's voice was the sound of boulders rolling down a mountain, and twice as deafening.

I stared straight ahead, eyes wide, my body trembling as I tugged on my collar, gulping and sweating excessively. "Uhm..." was the only response I could make.

"SPEAK!" it roared again in demand.

I felt faint and could barely move my numbing lips, but I knew I needed to answer. "Look," I said shakily, "I can't be here. I can't die. Not now. Just not now!" Suddenly my heart is beating faster than it should be, and my breath comes in short, erratic gasps. I close my eyes and press my fingers to my temples, my head swimming, pulse racing. It's all hitting me now. Flynn is dead, not Eugene. Eugene has to keep living. For her. Rapunzel needs me. I need her.

"I'm not dead, I can't be dead; I'm not dead, I can't be dead," I whisper-chant to myself, trying to gather my thoughts. Okay. Breathe. In, out. In, out. Slow your heart rate. Massage you headache away. In, out, in, out, in out in out inoutinout—

I'm hyperventilating now. But there's one thought that stays constant in my mind no matter what goes through it. "Where am I?" I whisper to the terrifying blackness and the horrible voice.

"That is to be determined. Speak."

I'm losing it. I'm. Losing. It. My knees give out from under me and I collapse harshly to the ground, the impact sending jolts through my body. "YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" I cry, screaming in horrific agony. "I can't leave her! She needs me!" I break down, sobbing, clutching and pulling at my hair, my face. I feel numb all over, and want to feel something, ANYTHING. "RAPUNZEL!" I half-shriek in between fits of hysteria.

Then, suddenly:

"Your fate has been determined."

My head snaps up, eyes wild and frightened. "What? What do you mean 'my fate's been determined'?" I demand, my voice bewildered and hoarse.

The room abruptly fills with an icy cold chill, a wisp of a breeze freezing my face. Then—hot. Burning hot. The heat chokes me, and I cough, trying to get clean air and not the lungfuls of smoke I've been inhaling. I squint through the smoke, looking all around. My eyes drifted down.

I instantly wanted to look back up.

But I couldn't. My amber eyes were locked in terror on the incredibly horrifying sight below me. Fingers—no, full hands—were flying toward me. Except they weren't hands. They were hands made of fire, made of dancing flames that shifted in and out of illusions of skulls. My jaw dropped.

The groping fingers found me, the searing flames frying my skin and setting my clothes afire. I tried to scream, but no sound emerged. Only smoke and cinders, which hopped onto my face and into my oxygen-deprived mouth and throat. I tried to faint, to pass out, to knock myself unconscious, but hell had other plans. It kept me alive through the entire debacle, making me witness every scar created on my spirit, every fiery touch that cooked whatever was left of my soul. So, this was the end, was it? Suddenly the arrows fired at me by palace guards seemed like warm, fluffy pillows.

I screamed and screamed silently, endlessly, slowly killing myself before the flames did. I knew there was no point in it, but what point was there in holding my pride?

Then, the unbelievable happened. If I didn't believe in miracles, there was certainly no doubt left now. White light, different from the blinding spotlight from earlier, appeared, floating down to where I was and smothering me in it. Those fire fingers seemed to screech and shrink away in panic, leaving me to hover in the brightness. I gave myself to its cool arms willingly, letting it purify and bathe me in its forgiveness. I closed my eyes and seemed to pass out, and felt myself detach from my spirit, letting the light guide me where it may.

I felt again. Differently from my spirit body. This time, I felt...solid. Real. Whole. Alive.

I started feeling around my body. I could twitch my fingers, move my chest up and down as I took in delicious, sweet air. My eyes. I could feel my eyes again. Just before I found the strength to open them, the golden sun symbol of Corona flashed before my eyelids. Then I felt them flutter open.

I saw the face of my angel before me, staring at me with incredible intensity, hope dancing in those beautiful green eyes I love.

"Rapunzel?" I mumble, trying out my newly-found lips. Everything seemed heavy, but it was all slowly getting lighter, more normal.

Rapunzel gasped. "Eugene?" she whispered in her melodic, bell-like voice. I smiled, and drank her in with my amber orbs, paying particular notice to her new hairstyle.

"Have I ever told you I've got a thing for brunettes?"