Nightshift 21: Hallway Outside Doctor Offices/Group Therapy Rooms

[materianinja.livejournal.com]

[From here.]

Yuffie scrambled down the hallway as fast as she could, terrified of the thing, the monster, that she had just left behind. She definitely wasn't going to laugh at anyone ever again if they mentioned monsters in this place... Ever.

It wasn't until she was nearly halfway down the hallway that she stopped running, her heavy breathing becoming more painful with each breath. It was painful to swallow, probably even more so to speak if she'd had the courage to try. Running was only making it worse. And she certainly didn't want to run into anything else like that if she didn't have to...

Looking back over her shoulder, she waited for a few seconds to make sure she couldn't hear anything coming before leaning against the wall and sinking to the floor. Now that the initial panic was over, she was shaking from relief at having survived. That thing...whatever it was...was nowhere near being normal. Not even close.

Now more than ever, she just wanted to go home...

Comments

[flordecactu.livejournal.com]

The commotion indeed came, and Aerith indeed nearly bolted for the door-- had Zelos not gripped her to the spot, effectively stopping the action.

"Zelos!" Her voice was an exasperated strain, cracking at the edges. She had no intentions of obeying his command. As soon as he let go, she ordered her feet to move and follow him, but with Yuffie's tight grip on her arm, once again, she was stopped.

"Yuffie, please," she pleaded with her friend, turning to catch her eyes, pleading her desperation. "Please, I have to--"

Zelos reported just then that Zack was heading inside. She ceased her struggle momentarily, her heart lifting; dropping just as quickly when Lyta spoke after him.

Aerith turned again and pulled with all her strength toward the door. Zack was in trouble. Zack was hurt. Yuffie was more suited to physical combat and stronger than her, she knew it, but she pulled with a burst of pure determination and grit that would have her, at least, closer to the door-frame. Able to see outside.

"Zack," she called, choking on the name, watched him run, heard the scream from the woman who pursued him, watched her weapon soar through the air at his retreating form. "Zack!"

[class-one.livejournal.com]

So much yelling. But this was different from the time before. There had been yelling then, but they had been gruff male voices; not female screams of rage and desperation. There had been rain, moist grass, hard ground; not dark, gritty hallways.

There were similarities - or one in particular. It was always his downfall, the way he cared so much for everyone else. Had to see to Cloud, had to make sure his friend was okay. And now, when he could have stood his ground and fought until the girl could no longer strike back, he had instead retreated, to see the others, to make sure they wouldn't worry.

He was paying for it again. Not bullets this time, but a sharp, hot tip, rusted and pointed. The throw, whether planned or not, was perfect. It stuck into him right at the back of his neck, the metal forcing in to the top of the vertebrae, right near the brain stem and all sorts of important nerves and veins.

In other words, whether she had meant it or not, she had thrown a bullseye.

His nervous system kept him moving for longer than he should have; even as the brain shut down, his legs kept straining. Eventually there were no more signals being sent and the body collapsed. There was no will or strength or being behind the flesh that hit the floor. That weapon stood starkly up out of him, a flag that marked one's victory and another's defeat.

Even here, history repeated itself.

[pimp-plan.livejournal.com]

It was like watching it in slow motion. Zelos tried to call out a warning, but there was already too much shouting and it was much too late.

He was dead, Zelos knew, but he couldn't just stand there and do nothing. Aerith was probably crying -- he couldn't tell. Everything was muffled.

The woman was simply standing there, like a doll. Zelos pushed until he felt the small string of magic left in him - a measly healing spell. It was too late and not enough.

Feeling frustrated as all hell, he took up Zack's sword, which had fallen to the ground with its owner. He twirled it expertly in his hand, ready to go after the woman himself.

Then the sun came up.

[end thread]