Fic'ing to Christmas - Day Fifteen - FIC: I Will Not Break
Title: I Will Not Break
Prompter: avamclean
Prompt: Faith in a Skynet run future. Watch the end through dying eyes/Now the dark is taking over/Show me where forever dies/Take the fall and run to heaven/All is lost again, but I'm not giving in" - I Will Not Bow by Breaking Benjamin
Rating: FR15
Warning: Dark Fic
Betas: kaylashay81 and avamclean
Fandoms: Buffy the Vampire Slayer / Terminator Verse
Disclaimer: The characters of BtVS belong to Fox, the WB/UPN, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc, & Terminator belong to Fox, James Cameron, etc.. The ideas and concepts in this story are mine entirely. Please do not copy or take this story without my permission.
All fics by authors participating in 2010 Wishlist challenge, can be found here: wishlist_fic
My Masterlist is here: Fic'ing to Christmas
Faith watched, through hooded eyes, as the knife easily disappeared into the bruised, damaged flesh. The pain registered a second later, sharp and hot, and her muscles tensed, and pain flared further through her body.
The scream clawed its way out of her throat, guttural and raw, and nearly inhuman. Her spine bowed, driving the knife even further, the leather restraints creaked and groaned with the strain of keeping her immobile, and tears spilled out of the corners of her eyes and disappeared into her sweat-dampened hair. And once more the blackness crept in from the edges of Faith’s vision, and the blissful wave of unconscious rolled over her.
~*~
Judgment Day was something none of the Scooby Gang saw coming. One second life was normal, demons, vampires, and a semi-regular schedule of abductions for Dawn. The next moment, chaos. At first the vamps and demons came out to play. It was an all-you-could-eat or destroy buffet. But then the machines came. And it had been a long, long time since Faith had seen a vampire or demon that wasn’t in SkyNet’s containment camp.
~*~
Consciousness. She awoke, eyes opened, and for a brief moment her mind was blessedly blank. But a scream, badly muffled through the steel walls, shattered her peace. Pain returned in full force, her body throbbed all over, aching and broken, and the reality of her situation couldn’t be denied.
She squinted in the darkness, not able to make out anything in the dark empty room, but that didn’t mean she was alone. She never had been able to detect the Metal; it was how she’d gotten into this situation in the first place. For a second, she almost longed to be blinded by the overhead light, then left in this deafening blackness.
Two red dots of light illuminated from the corner of her cell and Faith couldn’t contain the shudder of fear that rolled through her body at the sight of them. Red. Red was the color of the machines. Red was the color of the Resistance, a resistance that couldn’t save her. Red was the color of her blood.
The machine moved forward with jerky, awkward movements. It wasn’t one of the more advanced endoskeletons. It didn’t need to pass as human, to attempt to blend in with the pockets of survivors in its ongoing quest to destroy humanity. It did its job well without the hindrance of human flesh.
“Your body’s ability to remain conscious has deteriorated rapidly. Though you have lasted much longer than the other subjects, all indications point to the expiration of your body soon. If you tell us where they are, your suffering will end,” the machine explained. No inflection, no malice, just fact.
Faith forced a smile to her face, though it pulled at the edges of her split lower lip, and she tasted her blood, warm and coppery a moment later. She didn’t want to imagine how she looked, bruised, cut, missing teeth, broken. The laugh started low in her belly, bubbling upwards until it escaped, loud and slightly hysterical as it echoed around the room.
The machine studied her for a moment before it awkwardly rocked forward and produced a long blade from the table. The laugh died, as abruptly as it begun, and Faith’s hands curled into fists, her jagged remains of fingernails digging into her palms. It would hurt less if she relaxed, let the knife slide into her flesh, but Faith had never been a fan of doing things the easy way.
When her screams were silent, empty things, Faith wished only for the end.
Prompter: avamclean
Prompt: Faith in a Skynet run future. Watch the end through dying eyes/Now the dark is taking over/Show me where forever dies/Take the fall and run to heaven/All is lost again, but I'm not giving in" - I Will Not Bow by Breaking Benjamin
Rating: FR15
Warning: Dark Fic
Betas: kaylashay81 and avamclean
Fandoms: Buffy the Vampire Slayer / Terminator Verse
Disclaimer: The characters of BtVS belong to Fox, the WB/UPN, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc, & Terminator belong to Fox, James Cameron, etc.. The ideas and concepts in this story are mine entirely. Please do not copy or take this story without my permission.
All fics by authors participating in 2010 Wishlist challenge, can be found here: wishlist_fic
My Masterlist is here: Fic'ing to Christmas
Faith watched, through hooded eyes, as the knife easily disappeared into the bruised, damaged flesh. The pain registered a second later, sharp and hot, and her muscles tensed, and pain flared further through her body.
The scream clawed its way out of her throat, guttural and raw, and nearly inhuman. Her spine bowed, driving the knife even further, the leather restraints creaked and groaned with the strain of keeping her immobile, and tears spilled out of the corners of her eyes and disappeared into her sweat-dampened hair. And once more the blackness crept in from the edges of Faith’s vision, and the blissful wave of unconscious rolled over her.
~*~
Judgment Day was something none of the Scooby Gang saw coming. One second life was normal, demons, vampires, and a semi-regular schedule of abductions for Dawn. The next moment, chaos. At first the vamps and demons came out to play. It was an all-you-could-eat or destroy buffet. But then the machines came. And it had been a long, long time since Faith had seen a vampire or demon that wasn’t in SkyNet’s containment camp.
~*~
Consciousness. She awoke, eyes opened, and for a brief moment her mind was blessedly blank. But a scream, badly muffled through the steel walls, shattered her peace. Pain returned in full force, her body throbbed all over, aching and broken, and the reality of her situation couldn’t be denied.
She squinted in the darkness, not able to make out anything in the dark empty room, but that didn’t mean she was alone. She never had been able to detect the Metal; it was how she’d gotten into this situation in the first place. For a second, she almost longed to be blinded by the overhead light, then left in this deafening blackness.
Two red dots of light illuminated from the corner of her cell and Faith couldn’t contain the shudder of fear that rolled through her body at the sight of them. Red. Red was the color of the machines. Red was the color of the Resistance, a resistance that couldn’t save her. Red was the color of her blood.
The machine moved forward with jerky, awkward movements. It wasn’t one of the more advanced endoskeletons. It didn’t need to pass as human, to attempt to blend in with the pockets of survivors in its ongoing quest to destroy humanity. It did its job well without the hindrance of human flesh.
“Your body’s ability to remain conscious has deteriorated rapidly. Though you have lasted much longer than the other subjects, all indications point to the expiration of your body soon. If you tell us where they are, your suffering will end,” the machine explained. No inflection, no malice, just fact.
Faith forced a smile to her face, though it pulled at the edges of her split lower lip, and she tasted her blood, warm and coppery a moment later. She didn’t want to imagine how she looked, bruised, cut, missing teeth, broken. The laugh started low in her belly, bubbling upwards until it escaped, loud and slightly hysterical as it echoed around the room.
The machine studied her for a moment before it awkwardly rocked forward and produced a long blade from the table. The laugh died, as abruptly as it begun, and Faith’s hands curled into fists, her jagged remains of fingernails digging into her palms. It would hurt less if she relaxed, let the knife slide into her flesh, but Faith had never been a fan of doing things the easy way.
When her screams were silent, empty things, Faith wished only for the end.