Pulling Against Fate
by Grrl4Vic
Disclaimer: I know they belong to Square. You know they belong to Square. Square knows they belong to Square. Is there a pattern forming here?
A/N: A sorta-sequel to "Stuck in a Moment." Reading that fic is not required but it wouldn't hurt, either. Special thanks go out to my three, count 'em, THREE, beta readers: FFTSWJaneProudfoot, Vicchic and LadyKayoss. Thanks for the help ladies!
The pain Neil Fleming felt in his chest suddenly became very dull and choking. He couldn't get his mouth to work. His frightened pleas left his mouth as broken syllables. It hurt to breath and his mind cried out for him to move but his body wouldn't listen, it's energy already being siphoned by the alien ghost.
Grabbing the metal railing of the platform, his mind raced with ideas of how to escape the sharp, piercing grip of death. If Jane could just reach out a hand to him, maybe he could pull away from the soul-drenching creature.
He didn't want to go now. 'Not yet!' his mind screamed. He hadn't had the chance to tell her and he promised himself he would. These alien ghosts had lost everything and although there had never been a way to communicate with them, Neil prayed that his own hopelessness would filter through and somehow make this creature see why he wasn't ready to die. He laughed to himself at the ridiculousness of the thought. He wanted to cry at the unfairness of it.
He looked to Jane, hoping his eyes could convey what he was unable to say, what he'd always been unable to say.
The first pull rocked Neil, reminding him of what was happening...his life being torn away from him. Gritting his teeth he fought the demon for his spirit, doing whatever he could even frozen in fear. He did not want the cold inevitability that he'd always thought was death. Nor did he want the warm serenity Dr. Sid's Gaia offered. All he wanted was one more minute with Jane to tell her the one thing that he could never say.
Neil felt himself drop, the enemy's pull stronger than his own will. The klang of his rifle hitting the deck echoed in his ears. Simultaneously, he felt weightless as the phantom held his spirit up, impaled by its ethereal tentacles, and his solid form warm against the cold steel platform. Sound was a vacuum and Jane's mournful cry followed him into eternity.
by Grrl4Vic
Disclaimer: I know they belong to Square. You know they belong to Square. Square knows they belong to Square. Is there a pattern forming here?
A/N: A sorta-sequel to "Stuck in a Moment." Reading that fic is not required but it wouldn't hurt, either. Special thanks go out to my three, count 'em, THREE, beta readers: FFTSWJaneProudfoot, Vicchic and LadyKayoss. Thanks for the help ladies!
The pain Neil Fleming felt in his chest suddenly became very dull and choking. He couldn't get his mouth to work. His frightened pleas left his mouth as broken syllables. It hurt to breath and his mind cried out for him to move but his body wouldn't listen, it's energy already being siphoned by the alien ghost.
Grabbing the metal railing of the platform, his mind raced with ideas of how to escape the sharp, piercing grip of death. If Jane could just reach out a hand to him, maybe he could pull away from the soul-drenching creature.
He didn't want to go now. 'Not yet!' his mind screamed. He hadn't had the chance to tell her and he promised himself he would. These alien ghosts had lost everything and although there had never been a way to communicate with them, Neil prayed that his own hopelessness would filter through and somehow make this creature see why he wasn't ready to die. He laughed to himself at the ridiculousness of the thought. He wanted to cry at the unfairness of it.
He looked to Jane, hoping his eyes could convey what he was unable to say, what he'd always been unable to say.
The first pull rocked Neil, reminding him of what was happening...his life being torn away from him. Gritting his teeth he fought the demon for his spirit, doing whatever he could even frozen in fear. He did not want the cold inevitability that he'd always thought was death. Nor did he want the warm serenity Dr. Sid's Gaia offered. All he wanted was one more minute with Jane to tell her the one thing that he could never say.
Neil felt himself drop, the enemy's pull stronger than his own will. The klang of his rifle hitting the deck echoed in his ears. Simultaneously, he felt weightless as the phantom held his spirit up, impaled by its ethereal tentacles, and his solid form warm against the cold steel platform. Sound was a vacuum and Jane's mournful cry followed him into eternity.