Author's Note: I re-watched "Burnout" today, and the muse struck.
Anger.
Red hot rage.
Fire in my veins.
So this is what it feels like to die.
Electric agony courses through my body, alternately clenching my muscles and turning them to jelly.
It's a good thing I'm already walking down these stairs; I don't think I have the strength or control to fight gravity by going up.
Going down is best. It's safer.
Not for me. It's too late for me.
But if I can get… down…
Another jolt, extra strong, and I fall the last couple of steps.
Fury at the world swirls in my mind. Fury at the Warehouse. Fury at this Hand of Saracen. Fury at—no, I am not mad at Rebecca.
It's for her, I tell myself.
Her face, her voice, fill my head, and I can push aside the agony for a moment. It's long enough that I can climb back to my feet and stumble along the hallway to the fallout shelter. I almost laugh; there aren't any supplies to sustain any one.
More lightning, more pain. I can barely push the door shut. I have to, though. Once I'm dead, this thing will drop off, and if I don't lock it in with me, it will seek out another host. I can't let that happen.
Muscles spasm, jerking the door back open. If I didn't know better, I'd say the Spine is trying to move me back out of the dark. I won't let it win.
Rebecca's face surges again in my memory, giving me the strength to shut the door. No lock. Not a problem once I'm dead, but what about now? How do I….
I suspect that my grin is more of a grimace. Shuffling towards some exposed pipes, I reach blindly towards my belt and detach my handcuffs. Lightning sparks around the cuffs and my hands as I latch one shackle around my wrist.
Agony shoots through me, dropping me to my knees. It takes more work than it should to crawl the rest of the way to the pipe, reach out, and latch the other end of the handcuffs around the cold metal. More lightning dances down my arm, leaping across the cuffs and up the pipe. Hopefully, no one is touching it upstairs….
I let myself give in to the agony. I feel my body flailing on the floor, but the pain of flesh on concrete is nothing compared to the torture of the blue lightning. I can feel my body giving in, being consumed. Even my mind is shutting down. I'm drifting, thinking about the ring I left in my drawer, whom it was meant for… Chances are, she won't ever know what happened to me. But I know that my Rebecca is safe, and that… that's enough.