Disclaimer: All characters and locations in this story are property of Squaresoft.

Inspiration from the usual place- (see opening quote)

Please read and review- all comments appreciated!

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"She's waiting for you in hell. And she's turned cannibal. When you get there, she's going to eat you alive. Over and over and over again. Because that's what hell's about- repetition. I think in our hearts, most of us know that."

(Storm of the Century, Stephen King)

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The dance began again.

Rufus stood on the rooftop, trench coat billowing around his ankles. His shotgun was in one hand, Dark Nation beside him, and AVALANCHE in his sights.

He stepped forward to meet them, his face twisting into a smirk. His eyes had already lighted on the body behind the glass, the body skewered to the table by a giant sword. Sephiroth's sword, according to Palmer, and it sure looked like it.

Rufus turned his eyes back to AVALANCHE, running his eyes across their faces. The smirk was still on his face, and he stood firm. It was a dance, an endless reel played over and over again. The steps were familiar, and couldn't be changed. Maybe it was fate. More likely it was just what he deserved.

"Who are you?" he heard himself say. The words could have been coming out of someone else's mouth, as far as he was concerned. The terrorists were talking, but he didn't hear a word. It didn't matter, he knew every word that was said. He knew it all.

And still the dance went on. "What a crew," he heard himself say. How could his voice be so steady? How could he still be standing? He struggled to scream, but his traitorous body kept him prisoner. It was trapped in the dance, and the dance wasn't done.

Rufus felt himself striding forward, making his speech. How he hated this speech. What he wouldn't give to take back every word and replace it with an endless scream from the depths of his being. It would end this dance, at least.

He strode past AVALANCHE one by one, delivering his speech without a hitch. Why wouldn't he? He'd had practise, at least.

Past the ancient. Her eyes fixed on his, and how was it she couldn't see what was in his eyes? But maybe she could. Her expression changed slightly, but before he could study it, his feet had moved on.

Past the leader of this stupid crew. Rufus couldn't quite remember if his shoes had been brown or black, and so they flickered between the two at the edge of his vision. It made his head ache.

Looked up into the huge man's empty eyes. Saw his own face reflected in them. His mouth was smiling as he talked, but his eyes were screaming.

Rufus strode back to stage center, finishing off his speech.

"…there's no need to waste money on them," he said mockingly. Not a quiver.

The others were leaving, and only the ex-Soldier was left. Strife, that was his name. Rufus turned to face him, lifting his shoulders in a shrug.

"Why do you want to fight me?" he asked. His eyes seemed to widen as the pressure increased inside his head. He screamed again inwardly as pain lanced up his arms. But it would be worse next time, no doubt about that.

Please kill me Strife, he thought with all his strength. Just break the dance and kill me, don't let me get away!

Strife had finished talking and was ready to fight. So was Rufus. He willed his arm to stay put, for Strife's first blow to land and end this nightmare. But his hand came up, and his finger pulled the trigger as his feet dodged him aside.

The dance went on. Rufus shot, and watched Dark Nation cast his spells. He tried with all his force to not move, but no matter how hard he willed himself to just get hit, his body would disobey.

Look into my eyes Strife, he screamed. Just look and see what's really going on!

But Strife was watching Dark Nation. It was no good. Rufus felt his arms reload and take aim, and felt waves of agony push him under. No matter how much it hurt now, he would rather stay out here forever than have to get into the chopper again. And there it was again, the sound of it's hungry blades growing closer and the fight nearing its end.

Come on Strife, just kill me! Kill me! For once just get it right and KILL ME!

But he was too slow. Rufus stepped back and grabbed onto the landing skid of the chopper. It seemed he could hear it snarling in triumph.

It was now he concentrated every shred of his will, every part of his being. Let go, he willed his fingers desperately. Please, just let go and let me die.

His fingers held firm. Rufus screamed in his head again, as much in frustration and hopelessness as in agony. His head ached miserably from not being able to scream out loud. He thought that pretty soon he would either explode or go insane.

At least he hoped it would be soon.

Rufus climbed into the chopper, and felt the darkness envelop him. He tried to close his eyes, and couldn't. And in the middle of this clinging darkness, it was there again.

Eyes. And teeth. Rufus felt the teeth fix onto his arm, tearing off another chunk of flesh. Still, he couldn't scream. Couldn't speak, or even move. The teeth dug in again, and in the silent blackness Rufus could hear it chewing. Swallowing. Moving in for another bite.

His mind was cracking under the weight of his silent screams. But he didn't think it would break anytime soon.

He was too tough for his own good, it seemed.

Heat, and incredible pain. He felt the gaping holes in his arms stop bleeding. His trench coat must be mending itself as well, Rufus never saw any tears.

The eyes disappeared. The dance was ready to be performed again, he thought wearily. The chopper swooped, and Rufus was thrown back into the world of light. He was standing on the rooftop. AVALANCHE was before him. Behind him, in the chopper, eternity was waiting. It was hungry, and it would never be full. The dance would repeat itself, possibly until it was finished eating him. And then what?

Rufus had a terrible thought. Maybe then, it would start all over again. Maybe his flesh would grow back so the thing in the chopper could start from the beginning.

Rufus felt his sanity bend. But it wouldn't break, it wasn't allowed.

He was still trying to scream as he opened his mouth.

"Who are you?" he said.

And the dance began again.

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And the weirdness continues. Should I do other characters as well? Interesting to see what other dead characters see in their version of hell, eh? Well, let me know one way or another.

-RX-