Disclaimer: They ain't mine, the verse ain't mine and I gain no profit from writing but the satisfaction and the warm fuzzy glow of good reviews. All hail Joss and such.
Distribution: Feel free, just tell me first and if you try to pass my stuff off as your own, I'll cut you. With a machete.
Darkness is consummate. Silence drowns everything but itself. She creeps through the hallway, so softly. Her skin feels cold.
Promised screams and moans lay buried in the distance like the corpses of old friends. She is alone. Once surrounded by people, by friends, by family, but they are gone. She is alone.
But she's not.
The hallway, a passage between two lives, monsters guard each end. Cerberus. But which guards and heaven and which the gates of hell?
She is afraid.
A nightmare is approaching, closely behind. Silent and strong. But she can hear. She always hears.
Tiny feet scale a wall, climbing quick and delicate. Legs in split hold the smallest body up. She is silent. Not even a breath passes through her. She becomes one with the wall, so close she might just pass through and be swallowed up.
No matter, they hear.
Two by two, hands of blue.
Burning sears through her, sharp teeth bite back a scream. Blood gushes from her nose, is crawling up her throat. She brings a hand out to catch the drops. Shaking, almost falling. But not.
"Stay away from her." Simon. Simon survives to die again. No.
"NO!" She screams, but it's muffled by blood, by life pouring away. Only it's not hers, it's her brother's. He runs. Simon runs so fast but they are ever approaching. Lights flash like maniacal demons, clawing into souls and ripping them out.
Slap of flesh. Gurgle of blood. Simon's on the ground now.
So is she. No jumping, no falling, but her legs are running. Always and forever running. She looks back, monsters so far away and yet it's too close, Far too close. She runs and she runs until she doesn't.
A smack. A wall. A dead end.
River screams.
Fists pound the wall, so desperate. "NO! Doorway from the house of death. It must be here or the game is a lie…" Tears spill over her eyelids and pour relentless down her cheeks. "No. Out. Let me out." Small fists pound the wall so hard they start to bleed—
"Hey, Crazy-girl, you alright there?"
"No, it's not here."
"River", Jayne approaches carefully, a hand resting upon the shoulder if the broken girl, "where d'ya think you are?"
Tear stained face turns towards him, words of protest decaying on her tongue. She looks around. Not dark, light. Not alone, Jayne. Jayne's bunk.
"How?" she whispers, voice has no sound.
The gunslinger's eyes are filled with fear. His brain holds whispers of concern.
She moves closer, arms wrapping tightly around the confused man, She cries into his chest, letting tears soak through his shirt. "Hold me."
And he hugs her back.
