A/N: Thanks for the reviews. They help the correction and continuation of our (the writer) stories. I hope you like my take of the endings of F.E.A.R and F.E.A.R 2 and how they continue to make my own version of F.E.A.R 3. Thanks

Interval 2: Struggle – Still Island (Sgt. Becket)

He hadn't slept in days.

His entire body was sore, severely stiff and incredibly numb, mostly in his legs, from sitting constantly in the same chair. His wrists burned and ached from countless attempts to break the mechanical bonds that held his arms and legs firmly in place. He had tried so hard, he could feel blood beginning to trickle slightly from his wrist. The machine's lock was too strong for him and he was still weakened from his ordeal. He just needed to sleep for a couple of hours to regain some of his strength.

His eyes were growing ever so heavy, and the idea of sleep was always welcomed, yet he couldn't allow himself to sleep.

Every time he had closed his eyelids, he saw nothing but nightmares - horrific scenes of a burning city, of a burning world. He was seeing what Alma was imagining – her revenge against those that had wronged her, and even the innocent bystanders that got caught in the middle of it all. She left nothing to the imagination. The detail was so vivid he could almost feel it as something real. He could feel the burn, the hurt, the death. He awoke on a few occasions to simply vomit from such horrid visions.

His link to Alma was still connected. Even if she went far away, 'The Telesthetic Amplifier' he was still trapped in, powered his newly heighten psychic powers to new levels, pushing his mind further than he could contemplate. She could always reach him and, unfortunately, he could always feel her. Their minds were still linked. He thought he had shut the machine down, while he fought the phantoms of Keegan, but it appeared it was just a deception of his mind – a deception Alma had created.

'It felt so real...'

However, that was only half of what was keeping him from sleep. His mind was still recalling the rape. He kept remembering the fight he had within his mind against the phantoms of Keegan in the burning hell of a world, and at the same time, he could feel the terrible ordeal his body suffered in the process. He saw glimpses of the act, very time he tried to shut-down the Telesthetic Amplifier controls, when his mind was allowed to return to his body, before the machine amplified his psychic prowess again. He saw her beating him, screaming at him and defiling him, when his mind was elsewhere and his body lay defenceless.

He shivered every time he recalled it.

Becket lifted his limp head from his chest and allowed it to fall effortlessly against the head rest of the chair. His eyes were half opened and the skin under his eyes had darkened greatly. He was a prisoner in this device, both in the real world and in his own mind. There was no peace for him – no peace of sleep or freedom from this device. Not until someone on the outside shut-down the device and opened the bonds. He had tried to contact Sergeant Manuel, who he hoped might still be at the entrance, but the radio wasn't working inside the chamber; and Genevieve Aristide, who had trapped him inside the device, was only doing so to lure and contain Alma and use her as a threat over Armacham; intending to only release Alma if Armacham failed to do as she desired.

'Not much... chance of that happening any time... soon' he mumbled weakly.

He stared blankly at the roof of the Telesthetic Amplifier. Odd circles nodes line the walls in every direction, pointing a cone needle at him. At the base of each node was a blue florescent light that circled the node's base. In the dark, the chamber was lit up in a continuous clam, ocean blue. This indicated to him that the device was still receiving power, and that the node's needles where directing energy at him.

He didn't feel any powerfully enhancements in his telepathic abilities or the swarming of energy he was expecting to feel when he had watched Terry's video feed about how the device was meant to work against Alma. He felt rather normal now. Becket had assumed the device was not working properly as it should or that it wasn't working properly on him. However, when Alma had appeared suddenly in the chamber and engaged his mind with hers did Beckett actually then begin to feel the Telesthetic Amplifier working with his brain and allowing his telepathic abilities to increase.

She had somehow turned on the switch in his brain to allow him to use his untapped powers, and when he began using his telepathic abilities, he felt a sudden and unexpected rush overcome him. He felt his mind was somehow expanding beyond – he felt empowered. But at that time, so was she. As the device increased his powers, Alma's power increased as well.

Now – with Alma no longer engaging his mind, he couldn't feel the rush. He felt normal again. His brain functioned as he felt it always had.

His mind wasn't trained to use these abilities. Becket was a soldier, not a psychic commander. He was trained in physical combat, advance weaponry and tactical assault and reconnaissance, not in using his brain's power. He had read the Project Harbinger reports he found at the Auburn Memorial Hospital's underground ATC hospital facility, reporting and detailing on his level of telepathic potential - but he didn't really believe in it. He wasn't able to move thing with his mind, or read people's thought or do anything like what Alma was capable of. He couldn't remember any time in his life when he did anything like that. He was just a soldier.

'Perhaps that why the machine isn't working – I lack the psychic training to use these power' he thought to himself. 'I guess I should have signed up for that one at basic training...'

He chuckled lightly at his own joke, but stopped when he felt even laughing was exhausting.

Suddenly, his mind erupted with pain. His head felt like it was on fire and ready to burst from his skull. Sweat poured from his heated skin as the pain increased. He tried to grasp his head, but the chair's bonds held them in place. He locked his teeth together and shut his eyelids tight, summoning what strength he had to minimise the massive headache. He shook violently in the chair, using the pain from the headache to spur on his strength to somehow break free from the chair. Unfortunately, it hadn't work.

After a few seconds, the headache began to ease.

As suddenly as it had struck him, was it quick to fade away. He felt his brain beginning to regulating normally and the pain disappearing. He breathed heavily for a bit till he regained his normal composer. He gave out one last, long deep breath, allowing his skin to cool and retain his natural tan complexion and to let his gritted teeth to finally unlock. Yet, he did not open his eyes.

These massive and crippling headaches – despite their painful nature, served him as a forewarning. And he knew all too well the cause.

'She's back...again' he thought.

'...Alma...' he sighed bitterly.

For a moment, the chamber grew unnaturally still; cold and lifeless. But, in an instant, the chamber almost felt like it suddenly expanded, and that Beckett was in locked in the middle of a vast void.

His ears twitched as he heard her giggle at the mere mention of her name. The giggle echoed with an otherworldly sensation, even though the chamber didn't create any echoes. As strange as it was, the giggle was of a vengeful child trapped in a woman's body.

'Hello...Sergeant Beckett' she cooed, before giggling again.

Beckett tightened his grip on the chair's arm, turning his knuckles almost clear white, as he felt his anger begin to rise as she spoke to him. He could not forget what she had done to him, and every time she returned, he felt only anger.

He kept his eye lids firmly locked in place, not wanting to see the woman who has defiled him. It was his way of showing Alma his detestation towards her.

But it wasn't enough. Even though he closed his eyes, Alma could still penetrate his mind. Images of her naked figured and messed up long black hair, broke through the blackness his eyes created. The images that were forced into his mind, appeared like flash of a camera in the dark, illuminating what was hidden in the dark. She appeared, as always, with a strange aura about her; something like a wild fire that moved like a wind-storm about her figure. And she always chose to appear to him as a youthful woman, rather than appearing as the anorexia, frail woman like corpse he had seen before.

Still, even with his eyes closed, he was still able to see her.

But he knew this already. He knew that closing his eyes would not stop her reaching into him. He had done this every time she had returned to him and not once had he successfully block her. But he was fine with that, in part. To him, it meant that she would have to force herself to get him to 'see' her. He would not do it willingly. She would have to force herself to be seen and acknowledged by him from now on.

'You look awful' she stated, sounding slightly sympathetic and sincere. He noted the attempt of feeling behind her words, but he still felt the words to be hollow. She had no understanding of such feelings.

Becket then felt Alma's hand caress his face. He wanted to move away from it, but again, he couldn't. Her hand was gentle and soft, yet her fingers felt rather weak at the mere touching of his face, like there was no strength behind the motion. He also noticed the lack of warmth in her hands. Her hand felt cold and damp, like she had just gotten out of water. He found it rather odd that her skin felt rather damp, especially after every time he had seen her or her horrific apparitions of herself, wreathed in flames or surrounded by harsh winds. He even noted the slight bit of hesitation in her fingers at the mere touching of his face.

More flashes of Alma penetrated his mind. He could see from his mind, how close she was to him now. There was little to no distance between them. Her body was close to his – and he could feel his whole body tingling to confirm the lack of space his mind was seeing.

He wanted to pull away from her, but the chair held him firmly in place.

Alma must have felt his attempted retreat and the tension in his body, for her hand stopped moving upon his face.

There was an uneasy stillness between them. Beckett heard nothing but his own breath and slowly increasing heartbeat. The penetrating imagines of Alma also stop entering his mind. Beside her hand upon the left side of his face, he could have thought she had gone. Beckett was left wondering what was happening. At times like this, he wanted to use his eyes, to asset the situation, but he thought against it.

'Ignorance is bliss – that is what they say' he reminded himself, choosing not to open his eyes.

Alma's hand slowly slipped from his face as a small sigh exhaled from her lips.

As it did, Beckett felt Alma's body weight shifted. He felt her body fall upon him, her body resting mostly upon his upper leg, like she was sitting on him and he then felt her forehead resting upon the top of his crown. Beckett tried to move away again, but the chair continued to hold him still.

After adjusting her position on Beckett, Alma remained still.

She didn't say anything, nor did she try to project imagines of herself on top of him. She just remained still, breathing softly, leaving her body to rest against Beckett.

Beckett was again left to wonder what was happening. He didn't try to move. He kept his breathing to a minimal, though his heartbeat was now racing, creating more demand for air.

In the quiet and stillness of the chamber between him and Alma, Beckett mind was quick to remind him of his rape. The position she took was right for a repeated act.

Perhaps... she wanted more...

'No... Not Again!'

Beckett tensed up. His muscles slightly bulked up as his heart began pump blood throughout his system, injecting a great deal of adrenaline into his blood stream to help him either knock her off him or, as he hoped, to break the bonds on the chair.

But - Beckett felt no movement from Alma. She was rather limp in her position, expect for her keeping her forehead on top of his head. Had she wanted to do a repeat of the sexual act, she would have done some action by now to promote her intended desire. She would have engage his mind in that horrible hell like waste land like before and began raping his body while his mind was elsewhere, or she would have moved her pelvis forward towards his groin more.

Instead, she just sat there.

His body began to calm down a bit, sensing a lack of danger. He kept his mind sharp and his instinct ready. He was still being cautious; this could be a trick to lull him into a false sense of security.

Besides feeling her weight upon his legs and her forehead of his head, Alma made no other major movement. Her hair was blanketing his face. Her hair felt damp, with some water dripping upon his heated skin. He wanted to shake her hair from his face, as the hair and the drips of water irritated him. But he held his stance, not wanting to move, just in case this is what Alma was trying to make him do.

As he sat there, waiting for something to happen, Beckett began to smell something. There was a strange musk coming from Alma's hair and from her body. The smell was rather strong and clung heavily to her. He inhaled softly to asset the odour.

The smell hit is nose hard. It almost made him gag and his eyes want to water. The smell was a combination of things mixed together – most he couldn't place, but there were two he could smell clearly: blood and water. Beckett understood why blood was easy to smell on Alma, having seen firsthand her attacks on his Delta team and perhaps countless others; but the water was the one that still confused him.

Alma began to move.

Beckett against tensed up as he felt both of Alma's hands gently touch his face. She kept herself rather still while her hands did their work on his face – again no real purpose that he could tell besides just feeling his feature. Like before, the darkness behind his eye lids were broken as she penetrated his mind, but instead of multiple flashes of imagines, she forced Beckett's consciousness outside of his body.

He appeared, standing offside from the chair watching his body and Alma. He almost didn't notice he had been given a form till he felt the urge to move his arms and felt the freedom of movement. It wasn't some vision Alma had imprinted into his mind, he was actually outside his body. He was like a ghostly apparition of himself. His spirit-like figure was a tainted yellow, but heavily detail as if he was real, though he was transparent.

'Wow... is this what an outer body experience feels like?' he asked himself, slightly mumbling his words as he stared at the astral form he was in.

Beckett heard his words come from his lips, both from his astral form and from his body, still locked in the chair. Beckett covered his mouth in surprise. His astral form did as he willed, but because his body was still restrained, it couldn't.

'Okay... that's interesting...' he noted.

He saw himself in the chair and he could see how terrible he looked from someone else's point of view. Blood and dirt hung heavily to both his clothes and his skin. His face was darken with a few spots of blood, clear signs of lack of sleep and just a general ill look from not resting or eating in a while.

After examining his body for a bit, his attention was quickly drawn to Alma. She began to glow brightly against the blue of the chamber, in her own aura. Her skin reflected as a bright white, a clear sign she has never been outside in the sun for a long time. He saw some signs of dirt and blood on her legs and hands, but the rest of her was clean. Beckett assumed this is what Alma wanted him to see of her – not something covered in blood, which was more a monster than human and only sought revenge and chaos, but in fact, a person like him.

She was still caressing his face, which he could still feel in this form.

There came a sudden flash that seem too radiated from Alma's body. It was quick, bright, hardly painful, but it was enough for Alma to have moved from Beckett's body to standing right before his astral projection of himself.

Beckett was surprised by Alma's sudden appearance before him, yet as much as he wanted to move away, he couldn't move. His legs and the rest of his astral form weren't responding any more. He tried to 'move' but nothing happened. Alma had conjured this form for him, so it was hers' to control.

Reluctantly, he stared down at Alma and she stared back at him. Having him actually looking at her, despite it being against his will, she appeared to be pleased. Beckett could see a smile spreading on her lips, hidden slightly by her hair. As Alma smiled, her lips brighten in colour, becoming a strong lush of red.

'What are you smiling for?' he thought.

Beckett thought Alma might be able to read his thoughts, but the woman didn't respond. She just continued to stare at him with that seemly happy smile on her face.

Alma stepped forward slightly, reaching for Beckett's astral hand. She grasped his hand as though he was real and placed his hand on her pregnant stomach.

As she positioned Beckett's hand upon her stomach, Beckett felt suddenly strange. He felt overwhelmed somehow. The feeling was strong, yet incredibly unknown to him, but he could feel it washing over him, overpowering him. He felt strong at first, but the feeling changed quickly and he felt rather ill instead. There was a surge of heat being emitted from his hand and it only got hotter. Beckett could see that Alma's stomach was glow a bright red.

Beckett started to scream. He could hear his scream coming from both his astral form and from his body; both screaming in unison. This pain gave him control over the astral form, whereas before, Alma had control of her creation of him.

But it was too late to do anything.

A powerful blast of energy erupted from Alma's stomach, disintegrated Beckett's astral form into dust that scattered in the wind.

Beckett launched forward in the chair, still screaming. The blast of energy had surged through the astral form and overloaded its form, causing Alma's creation to fry and dissipate. But because it was a creation of Beckett's consciousness, he felt the incredible burn as the connection between his astral form and body were disconnected.

Panting heavily, Beckett struggled violently in the chair. His action was like that of a wild animal. He felt an uncontrollable buzz shooting through his entire body that was frying his muscles and nerve endings. He felt like he had been electrified; inside and out. His skin was red and sweating – his clothes darken quickly with the amount of sweat he produced. It was pouring from his flesh. He felt like he was burning and tingling all over. Steam was rising from his skin and his clothes, colouring the air within the chamber in a slight haze.

After a while, his screams soften and his body responsive. He was able to calm down and regain control. He ending his thrashing about in the chair with a sudden stopped; thrusting his back into the chair. The chair buckled at such force, but retained its hold. His body still twitched in reflex to the pain, but his actions were more controlled and civil; it didn't cause him too much pain now.

He stared at Alma, with wide, pain filled eyes. He couldn't form words to speak, but his eyes were demanding answers. He wanted to ask, 'what the hell had happen', but his throat was felt swollen. His words came out in mumbles and groans.

Alma was still facing the chamber's wall where Beckett's astral self had been standing. She had heard Beckett's screams, but she didn't flinch at the sounds. Alma lowered her head slowly, and softly patted her stomach. Beckett heard Alma speak, but her words were too soft to hear. She was talking to her baby.

Beckett, wanting her attention, thrashed in the chair, groaning at her. He wanted answers.

Sensing his pleas, Alma turned her torso and head till she could see Beckett, still struggling in the chair.

She stared at him with uncaring eyes. Her eyes glowed with a tinge of red against the blue of the Telesthetic Amplifier chamber, as did her pregnant stomach. Her eyes were burning with pain and hate. He knew these eyes.

Her eyes lost that burning fire as she opened her mouth.

'Sorry...' she said, sounding worry. 'She... doesn't know you... yet'

With that, Alma vanished. Her form dissolved in a dark flash, leaving Beckett alone once more.

Beckett screamed as he was left alone in the chamber. He had questions and they were left unanswered. Alma was able to come and go with ease, but he could not. This prison was meant for her, yet it could not contain her.

He thrashed in the chair, this time at his own accord. His actions weren't as wild or powerful as before, but they were more direct.

'I want... OUT!'