asinglewordwilldo: ([Emote] This Does *Not* Look Good...)
[personal profile] asinglewordwilldo
((Note: Takes place after his abduction here.))

So beautiful but ice runs through your veins
Slowly draining all my life away
Perfection in a shell devoid of life
Cause you leave a trail of broken dreams behind


He’s doing the best he can to hold on. It’s burning him alive from the inside out, this alien force that wants his life. It’s a fire not of earthly origin, alive with deadly intent and set on nothing less than his total submission to its will.

He pictures her face...it doesn’t help.

The words are leaving him...words he has to fight, the first thing the fire seeks out. Rob him of his weapons, take his one chance at survival. Demoralization and ineffectuality...render him impotent and focus on breaking his will. One incantation, and he could have stopped it...but for the life of him, he can’t remember...

He tries to hear her voice...it fades in the roar of flames.

There’s death in the power moving through his blood, preparing his body for the coming invasion...the ultimate sacrifice, the final rape of his spirit. It’s the devil waiting on the sidelines, ready to step in and claim everything he is. He knows the devil...recognizes its origin and its form. This is not the demon that took hold of Rory...no, this demon demands more than flesh. It can’t live without life and heart...it needs to invade his soul and make it his own before it can animate his flesh and assume his likeness.

He remembers her touch...and finally, at last...he feels something.

The flames rise high again, but this time they are of his own making. They warm the flesh and fuel the blood rather than freezing it, stilling it for the parasite inside. He commands the torch this time, pushing it forward into the invasion with a roar of fury and passion...passion and love, black rage born of pure love.

Imhotep. The name of the demon is Imhotep. That’s what he needs...to know his enemy. Know his enemy...fight his enemy.

With the last of his strength...the memory of soft hands on his body, a lover’s touch that fills him with remembered strength...Alva begins to fight.

Muse: Alva Keel
Fandom: Miracles
Words: 340

April 2009

S M T W T F S
   1234
56 7891011
12131415161718
192021 22232425
2627282930  

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jul. 21st, 2017 02:42 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios