Date: Tue, 30 Jun 1998 15:55:34 +0000 From: Lyle Bontrager Subject: My Seven Dreams of Hell: First Dream Title: My Seven Dreams of Hell: First Dream Author: RM >lbontger@wmcstations.com< Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully belong to CC, 1013, and Fox. No fringe is intended. Summary: This is a companion to Scully's Dreams of Ice, but can be read separately. In Mulder's pov though not first person. MOVIE spoilers ahead. ~~~~~ First Dream ~~~~~ There was a flashlight gripped tightly in his hand, almost as if it was the cure for everything, as if it could save him in this place. Everything glowed with a green darkness. Iced air curled at his feet, icicles of green dripped slowly, melting, melting. There was something about the lessening cold that hurt, that made him think it was all going to go wrong very soon. The beam of light caught drifting ice-steam as it billowed across the metal deck, looking phantasmal in the green and white of fading cold. He grabbed the edge of his coat and pulled on it uncomfortably, feeling sweat start coasting down his back. It was getting too hot. He wiped his brow and took off his coat, breathing loudly in the heat. No more cold, no more chill. Things began to move. Things glowed with black eyes and rustled their long claws against glassed in coffins. They were growing, growling, hungry for something, or maybe just furious that they were there, in such limited space, scrunched into a tight spot. He jogged down the endless metal darkness, hearing his feet fall heavily to the deck, hearing the scratching behind him, feeling sweat riding down him in waves. Gasping, panting, passing endless coffins, all with black eyes. The black eyes and pale, slick skin of the demons of death. He must be in hell, must be in hell. He could not see Scully, could not see anything but steam curling up in his flashlight beam and black eyes glaring at him with an evident evil. He panted, faster, running through the rows of green coffins like running through corn. Running through corn. He was blinking and running through corn. Tall lashing rows of corn as lights glared at him from black helicopters. He ran and ran and felt the earth vibrate with each heavy blade swinging through the air like a reaper's sickle. He could not see Scully, could only see green corn and the dirt being churned by the black copters. He gagged on his own breath, fell to his knees, the threshing cutting into his pants and slashing his legs. He felt like screaming in the pain, but instead moaned and struggled to his feet. Running, he found the corn rows stretching skinny fingers into forever, found he could hear growling behind him, found he could feel baleful black eyes searching for him as the copter blades beat at his air. He screamed for Scully. He screamed for life, for his breath, for fury, for indignation, for fear. No answer. Not that anything could be heard over the explosion of air being slashed down by rotating blades, not that anything could be heard except for hissing, growling beasts, come to eat him alive. Eat him alive. He ran, oh God, he ran and and prayed and asked that he never never stopped running, that he never never lost his strength, that he never never stopped. Oh God, give me Scully. And only the alien beasts came, screaming louder, higher, than him. ~~~~~ end adios RM Title: My Seven Dreams of Hell: Second & Third Dreams Author: RM >lbontger@wmcstations.com< see dream one ~~~~~ Second Dream ~~~~~ He screamed. Oh God the pain the pain ~~~~~ Third Dream ~~~~~ All he could see now was blinding snow, blanketing everything with a certain amount of grim unreality that set him on edge. He knew there would be black eyes coming for him soon. He watched for them and continued walking, walking toward her, wherever that might be. The horizon began dotting with shapes, oddly human shapes that seemed small and insignificant, but were in fact, the beasts come to eat him. He sighed. No Scully, still, no Scully. He trudged forward, let himself be taken in the direction the wind pushed him, knowing that it was pointless to run from the beasts, from these devouring eyes that searched him out wherever he searched Scully out. He wished to find her first. It would all end if he could find her. The cold was nonexistent now, numbed him so totally that even his fear was gone. Only the realization that he would die, and therefore, Scully too, kept him going, kept him walking, slow step by agonizing step, forward. He would find her. Or die, killing them both. His hands clutched a vial, clutched a needle, and he wondered if he would break it by holding it so tightly. The sun beamed directly to the snow and then into his eyes, making him white blind, white everywhere making him afraid he wouldn't see it when it came. But of course, as was the nature of evil, it presented itself. In his face, right there, growling, hissing, scratching. Black eyes, long claws, sharp teeth in an open, drooling mouth. Demons, aliens, beasts. Right there. Licking nonexistent lips and watching him. He ran. Felt the ice slide beneath him, felt himself falling down, hitting into drifts, packed down snow, falling down and down and down faster than the demon-alien-beasts and faster than he could see. Down, spiraling, falling, unable to catch himself, unable to even look for Scully. Wind cut deeply into his back and, howling, a demon jumped after him, falling. It slammed into him, teeth taking a chunk from his face before he could stop, before he could move and then they were descending on him even in the air, even as he fell. And he knew he fell towards hell and he knew he would die. He would burn. ~~~~~ end second and third dream adios RM Title: My Seven Dreams of Hell: Fourth & Fifth Dream Author: RM >lbontger@wmcstations.com< see dream one for other ~~~~~ Fourth Dream ~~~~~ He was sweating under the thick coat, his body heat trapped by its massiveness, burning him up. He wrenched at the throat, pulling it away, his breath exploding hotly into the ice. His face was freezing, his body melting. The green-ness of the light and the almost silence that fell over the place made him uneasy. Taking long strides, he walked down the rows, thinking he knew exactly where to go now. Somehow, everything was changed. He had to find Scully. But nothing was the same. He turned, twisted into another row of frozen hosts, only to find the same faces behind the glass. Panicking, slamming his body into the next row, he saw again the same people, same row, same things. He couldn't leaves this row. He was trapped. Ice smoke crept in around his feet and licked at his shoes. Stamping, he made it dissolve, too frustrated to think. Suddenly, he darted left. And found a new row. He had tricked Them. He had acted without thought and simply ran. They hadn't been expecting it. Nothing easily referenced . . . He shined the flashlight along all the faces, praying to see red brown hair and beautiful baby blue eyes. Kind of symbolic, really, because her eyes sometimes were a little more green than- Wait. Look. Stop being stupid. He smeared away the ice covering one of the glass coffins and found he was staring into the fear filled eyes of Dana Scully. He gaped. A hand rose and touched her prison, fingers running down the lines of her face and chin through the glass. There she was. Trapped. He shivered, slammed his palm to the glass. It was rock hard, thick and solid. He pounded his fist into it, was rewarded with a broken finger and bloody glass. Come on. Come on. He couldn't get her out. She was right there and he couldn't get her out. If he moved away, he was afraid They'd switch everything again. He slammed the butt of his flashlight into the glass, over and over and over slam slam slam please, please, let her out... He sobbed onto the glass, beat at it with his fists and anything that fell into his hands. He couldn't get to her. She was trapped. He had failed her again. Again. Again. ~~~~~ ~~~~~ Fifth Dream ~~~~~ Everything shattered shattered broke into a kaleidoscope of green and ice and liquid and hair and freezing and so white skin, oh Scully, so white skin He placed tentative hands to her face, frozen in her frozen-ness. She was not moving, not breathing, not watching him. His pain was overcome by the need to help her, to make her better, to get her out of there. He pulled out the needle and vaccine. Cure. She relied on his cures so much . . . so many cures for her. He aimed for the hole, jabbed his own palm hard enough to draw blood and grunted. Wiping away his blood, he tried again. The needle plunged into the soft skin of his thumb. His hands were shaking too much, his panic and fear too much in control. He had to do this, if only for his own sanity. He had to be in control for her. The glass was broken, jagged, the first barrier surrmounted. Get the stupid needle into the jar! He jammed the needle down, ripped through a bit of skin but keep on going until it plunged straight into the jar. He exalted, pulled part of it up, sucking the liquid into the body of the needle, hands shaking harder than before. He pulled it out, put the empty bottle back into his pocket and looked at Scully. He had to put this in her. Somewhere. Where? Her chest. . .just stick it straight into her heart maybe. . . maybe that would hurt her, maybe it would bleed too much. Close to her heart then, let her blood carry it all around. The only other place he could reach was her left shoulder. That was close enough. He closed his eyes for a moment, took a breath, then aimed for her shoulder. He felt her jerk. He pushed in the brown liquid that would save her. She jerked. Jerked. Nothing happened. He felt his breath hitch, his mind go blank. It was supposed to work. Come on, Scully, shift your eyes to me, show me you're alive. Empty silence, cold air, his breath puffed achingly in front of him. He shook her. Pulled on her shoulders. He sobbed with frustration and grabbed for the vial again. Surely there was more and he had just not gotten all of it. Surely this was going to work. He plunged the needle back into the glass bottle. Nothing. Nothing. He had done it wrong, administered it in the wrong place. She wasn't going to wake up. He frantically pulled the rest of the glass away from her body, eyes blurring by tears, blurring the lines of her naked body before him. He stripped off the too hot coat and laid it on the floor, then yanked the tube from her throat, pulling pulling pulling until it gagged out of her and she coughed. He held his breath. Nothing, no flickering, no movement. He pulled her out, laid her on his coat. The ice smoke drifted around her legs, teased her skin with chill, and masked her face for a moment. He felt his tears freeze to his face and he rubbed them away. He had messed it up again. Oh God, how could I do this to her. . . He curled up next to her, pulled his coat around her, then took her in his arms. His breath came slowly, hers not at all. He buried his head into her neck, shut his eyes. Shut his eyes. Stopped breathing. Stopped. ~~~~~ end of fifth dream adios RM Title: My Seven Dreams of Hell: Sixth & Seventh Dream Author: RM >lbontger@wmcstations.com< see dream one for other ~~~~~ Sixth Dream ~~~~~ Fast fast fast They had to crawl faster than this. He could feel the breath of the alien beast behind him, could feel the sick thing's claws scratching against the floor of the vent. He shoved Scully further up, shoved her faster, pushed her even though he knew she was ready to collapse. They could collapse later. He felt the angry nails dig into him and he screamed, ramming his head into her back and pushing her forward with sheer fear alone. She crumpled to the ground. Crumpled . . . slow motion falling . . . He grabbed at her as he scurried by, dragged her with him, pulling her by anything he could latch onto. She moaned as he wrenched on her arms, moaned as he attempted to outrun the demon behind them. He felt his body slow, felt the thing catching up to them. She screamed. Screamed screamed He yanked on her, pulled her from its grip, hearing flesh rip, bone break, blood ooze out, bubble from her lips. He pulled, pulled, pulled her out to the top, to the top, and there they were, better, cold, collapsing in ice. And there it came. Rose from the hole in the ice, long claws shining, black eyes hating. He felt no breath, no strength, no reason to move. It descended. He screamed. ~~~~~ ~~~~~ Seventh Dream ~~~~~ Sounds filtered to him. The far off howl of wind and ice rubbing together, meeting out there with their own inward fury. The creak of the building he was in, the shivering as it resisted the wind's rage. He felt warm. Finally. A body was near him on the floor. Rough wooden planks scratched at his hands as he fumbled torward her. His fingers brushed the coat he had wrapped her in. He let his eyes open. Scully. He tilted forward, pulled himself along the floor to her side. Her eyes opened. "Mulder . .." He felt sobs tackle his throat and he pulled her into his arms. "Scully, Scully, Scully." Her eyes drifted shut and he saw her mouth work as she swallowed, her chest rise as she breathed. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He pulled her even closer to his body, buried his face into her hair and let soft tears mix with the damp strands. Her hands pushed at his arms. He pulled away and looked at her. "You saved me," she whispered. Confusion trickled into him. "How's that?" "You saved me, Mulder. You saved me." He shook his head, pulled her into him again, refused to see the truth in her eyes. She struggled and sat up, still in his arms, him still clinging to her. "You did, you did. You saved me." "I . . . I was just fixing what I had done wrong . . ." Her face clouded. "Fixing your wrong? No, Mulder. You're selfish sometimes, but no. No. You saved me regardless of your own life, putting away everything . . . you saved me. I won't let you forget it." She was pulling on him. He shook his head, glanced around, felt the dreams interrupting him, felt black eyes eating him before he could get to her, felt his own failure. "I failed you." She seemed to hitch, to shrink into his arms. "No. No. No. Saved me. Thank you, Mulder." He felt his heart collapse into him, felt things slow down to nothing, felt life stop beating, stop moving, stop breathing. He accepted. Pulled her deep into his embrace. "You're welcome." Kissed her forehead with all the gratefulness of a forgiven sinner. Brushed her lips with his own and let warmth flow back through him. ~~~~~ end of all dreams adios RM