Title: Facing the Darkness Alone
Rating: T – Drama/Horror - ATF
Author: Jackie
Comments: This is in response to a challenge posted on the Gamblers and Gunfighters Listserv. Something is waiting in the darkness with Chris, he is wounded and praying the others reach him in time.
The Challenge: This prompt is offered as a Halloween Treat. It's night and one of our Seven is left all alone to face a deep-seated fear. This character can be anywhere- at home, in a hospital room, even down a hole but the only interaction he can have (if he has any interaction at all), aside from his rescue, is with someone or something other-worldly.
Disclaimer: The Magnificent Seven and characters are the property of MGM Television, The Mirsch Corporation, Trilogy Entertainment Group and CBS. No profit has been made off of this work. No copyright infringement is intended.
He could barely hear the wailing of the sirens in the distance, praying that they would arrive in time. The air hung hot and heavy around him, stealing his oxygen, wicking the moisture that coated his skin away almost as quickly as it appeared. The raging fire growing closer by the moment; his radio lay smashed nearby, his lifeline destroyed. He was now forced to face his greatest fear; dying alone.
SAIC Christopher Larabee, ATF Team Seven, had broken one of his cardinal rules. He went off on his own to search the south end of the warehouse, without telling anyone where he was. He'd seen movement from above, and believing it to be one of the gun runners, he'd quickly ascended the rickety wooden staircase. The rooms above were dark, their windows covered over with soot and pollution. Chris shoved his radio in his back pocket as he pulled free his flashlight, he wasn't as prepared as he'd like to be, but he'd been undercover with Ezra and the buyers had been suspicious of everything.
Now he was following some unknown individual into a darkened area of the warehouse with only his sidearm, flashlight and a spare handheld radio. If this had been one of his team he'd be reaming them out for not taking their safety into consideration. He should have grabbed some body armor from the surveillance van, they always kept one or two spare just for this type of situation. A dark shadow darted across his peripheral vision; spinning in the direction of the movement; he aimed his flashlight into the darkness. Nothing. A creak of a floorboard came from behind, Chris stopped breathing, waiting for another sound, anything that would tell him where his suspect was hiding. The sound of a door slamming shut had him hurrying down a dimly illuminated hallway. It reminded him of a cheap B-rated horror movie, and something in his gut told him not to continue down this path, but he quashed it. They had spent too much time on this case to let someone get away so easily, all he had to do was corner the little shit and call for backup. They'd be done before breakfast.
~o~
Chris had no earthly clue what had happened. One moment he'd been standing at the top of the stairwell, staring down into the cloying darkness below, every hair standing on end. Instinct told him to go no further without backup; he took a step back and turned, reaching for his radio. A hazy figure moved to stand before him, its features obscured by the darkness. Glowing yellow eyes stared back at him and a grinning maw materialized, razor sharp teeth dripping some unidentifiable viscous fluid. Whatever it was, it emitted an odor so foul that it reminded the team leader of an animal left lying out on the side of the highway for a week in the summer sun.
"What the hell?" Chris gasped as he gagged on the noxious smell. Looking over his shoulder he knew he couldn't go that way. The only option he had was to go forward, but the apparition stood there. Chris was not a man afraid of many things, he'd seen way too much in his life; but this frightened him; malevolence flowed from it.
Raising his gun Chris spat, "Back off!" The apparition laughed and drifted closer. Chris glared and shouted "Back off, now!" He stepped forward, praying that this was just a figment of his imagination. It wasn't, it struck like lightning hitting him in the chest, pushing him down the stairs. The first stair he hit on his way down snapped his right wrist, after that the numerous injuries he received on his plunge to the bottom melded into one huge hurt. As Chris struck the concrete below he lost consciousness.
When he awoke the air was full of smoke and he struggled to draw a breath into his battered lungs. By the way his chest hurt he knew he had to have some broken ribs, the pain and difficulty breathing, probably a punctured lung. Chris groaned as the pain flared to life again, threatening to steal his consciousness. He shouldn't have gone off alone. Now, here he was bleeding and lying broken at the bottom of a flight of stairs. Unable to move and save himself; he wanted to cry but it would take energy he couldn't spare.
The apparition was still there, just on the fringes of his field of view, pacing back and forth. Waiting. Waiting for his death; feeding on his fear. This was not how he planned to go. He didn't want to be alone when he breathed his last. "Boys where are you? I really could use that rescue about now." He gasped out quietly to the darkness. Tears streamed from his eyes, his breath coming in shuddering gasps.
There was a loud banging off to his left, he couldn't call out, couldn't call to those on the other side of the door. He could hear the inhuman wail from the apparition as the door finally gave under the abuse and splintered into the room.
"Here! He's here! Thank God." Vin's relieved shout reached the team leader. Vin and Ezra ran across the room, dropping to the floor beside their wounded comrade.
"It'll be okay, Chris. Helps coming, you be okay. You're going to be okay." Ezra rambled holding tight to Chris's uninjured hand.
Chris watched as the apparition faded, turning a watery smile onto his team mates, "I know."
The End.