http://ihatefire.livejournal.com/ (
ihatefire.livejournal.com) wrote in
trans_92008-06-15 12:14 am
Entry tags:
Foreshadowing
Like many others--like all the others--Cybil Bennet slept.
Like many others, she dreamed, even if those dreams would be forgotten, cradled in Stacy's warm embrace.
Some dreams were just dreams, of brighter times, and happier places, of desert sands she'd never seen, strange and alien landscapes, of strange unearthly celebrations.
Some were nightmares, twisted malformed shapes staggering forward, of tentacles and spattered blood.
Sometimes she dreamed of fire.
Like many others, she dreamed, even if those dreams would be forgotten, cradled in Stacy's warm embrace.
Some dreams were just dreams, of brighter times, and happier places, of desert sands she'd never seen, strange and alien landscapes, of strange unearthly celebrations.
Some were nightmares, twisted malformed shapes staggering forward, of tentacles and spattered blood.
Sometimes she dreamed of fire.

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The places he went were sometimes more dangerous. It had taken practice. It had taken much practice to learn to do what he could do.
It had taken even longer to find them. The ones who were left.
In her dreams, Cybil saw a bright green light.
It was a genteel voice. "Hello, Cybil."
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"Who--the fuck--are you?"
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The crowd inside the church, spitting, screaming, calling for Cybil's death, disappeared. Christabelle was gone.
"An old friend. Although I suppose that when we meet again, I'll be a new enemy. We will be set against one another, after all. It's inevitable, and such a shame. I really don't want to be your enemy, I hope you understand."
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The figure snapped his figures and suddenly, she was free, falling through the fire, and into a nightmare.
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When names were spoken they were distorted, to her hearing. The faces--they were all blurred.
And she was shouting orders.
"Give mwurmur covering fire! Fall back! Fall back! We're almost to the escape vessel!"
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She lied. "He's in the vents. He'll catch up. He might've even beaten us there."
He'd died, in the explosion, died in a burst of fire, and taken out the traitorous bitch with him.
Another had been launched into the sun. Another had overloaded himself, exploded.
Another had...
No, she couldn't think about the casualties. Focus on saving the ones left.
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Her yellow cloat was nearly blinding, even with all the brights lights and lasers zinging around as it always was. "Oh right, like you think we'll let you go alone? We're totally coming with you."
"We are? Damn." But there was no doubt, even amongst the sarcasm, that he was. Grey eyes. "Listen, Cybs, you get everyone out of here. We'll hold them off."
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The girl in yellow. "This is, like, what we do, mortal peril and all."
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Even though she knew the chances of them getting out...
But time and again, they'd faced these odds. Maybe they'd luck out again? Maybe.
(She knew they wouldn't have that luck this time. She knew.)
"We'll wait as long as we can."
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"Don't worry about us."
"S'been real...interestin', policia."
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They fell around her, faceless, like the monsters in Silent Hill, only these faceless things falling made her heart break.
Three of them fell together. His leg was broken again, the girl in blue fell, holding onto her brother.
One fought with the ferocity of a jungle cat, enraged over the loss of a friend, before he was smashed, but his chest was still sparking.
Electricity arced, there was a scream, and she fell into a pool of silver.
And the girls fought back to back until none of them were fighting anymore.
He was slammed into a wall, forced to stay solid, and the old man hovered over him, as he so often had.
"Is he still breathing?!" Most of them were. Most of them were, but they were all falling...
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"He's gone, Cybil. They're all gone. You're gone."
This wasn't right. This wasn't what really happened. But how could any of this have really happened if it had never happened--or not happened yet?
"Don't you understand? You must not listen to them."
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They were all gone.
Dead or gone.
She fell again, into the dark, into a dreamless sleep, and when she did dream, she dreamed of fire.
Almost as if her subconscious was punishing her on purpose.
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He was unseen, unheard, and it had to stay that way. He retreated to his prison.
I'll make you remember. I'll make you all remember, and when I do, they'll all be done for.