Final Fantasy VI - In the Moonlight, Lingering
Title: In the Moonlight, Lingering.
Author: Shaded Mazoku.
Email: herukatto@hotmail.com.
Part: 1/1.
Disclaimer: Still not mine, I fear. Just borrowing them for fun.
Warnings: None.
Rating: PG.
Summary: There's someone there, just out of reach and sight, and she knows he's waiting for her.
Pairing(s): None.
Fandom: Final Fantasy VI.
Words: 642.
Notes: Part of a plot I'm playing with, but as a standalone Halloween fic. I'd wanted to write something longer, but... Frigging classwork.
She is sure she looks as pale as the moon, and probably nearly as cold as well. Some say that moonlight is the epitome of beauty and romance, but to her, moonlight just seem cold and harsh, causing her to look more ghostly than her shadow is. More frightened, too, eyes wide and body shivering in the chilled winter night. She pulls her shrug around her shoulders, but it does nothing to ward off a chill that comes more from the inside than as a result of the night frost.
She's not running, not really, but she's not walking either, trying to hurry, to get away from something she know will never leave her alone. In the corner of her eye, she sees a brief flash of colour, too solid and at the same time too translucent. She bites her lip, trying very hard not to give into her fears. Her home is far away, as is her family, but she can't go back, not with her shadow.
For a moment she falters, and the air around her grows instantly much colder, forming sharp fingers that brush against her skin in a too familiar way, a way she does not remember in her mind, but in her heart. Shivering again, she once again sees a flickering colour just out of reach, and in the howls of the wind, she hears a high-pitched laughter, mocking her.
But when she turns around, she sees no one, though the laughter still lingers for a while, and that chills her far more than the icy winds every could, the familiarity of it striking a chord within her.
She turns back to her path, forcing herself to not hear the laughter, not to see the ghostly flickers of flowing garments and long hair that occasionally appears. There's nowhere she can go where he cannot follow, and she's running out of options. She's getting exhausted, and she knows that is what he's trying to do; wear her down until she can't take any more.
At some point, she stumbles, falling to her knees on the cold and hard ground. The rocky surface is abrasive, rubbing her hands raw, and she winces, wishing for warmer clothes, or at least gloves. Kneeling on the ground, she looks at her hands, picking the gravel away. It burns, but to a certain extent, she welcomes the pain. It helps ground her, making her focus and driving her forwards. Carefully, she gets to her feet again and resumes walking, one step at the time. She doesn't worry about speed any more, truthfully. She can never outrun him, like her own shadow, he's always with her now, always waiting for her to break down and fall.
Though she is determined, it's so very cold, and she is getting tired. In front of her, the plains seem to go on forever, the monotony only broken up by forests in the distance. Behind her, there's more plains still, plains and a lingering remnant of her past, laughing maniacally in the wind. She wants to rest, to sleep, but he whispers in her dreams, horrifying whispers that causes her to wake screaming. Driving herself to exhaustion is safer. He can't get to her when she's unconscious.
She doesn't know who she thinks she's fooling. She's strong, stronger than most, but she's only mortal. She can't go on forever. He can. And he will never stop. She's still not ready to give in, to admit defeat, but one day she will be, and they both know it. He has won, after all, despite all their effort, and Terra shivers as once more, high-pitched laughter rings through the air, colours flickering just out of her field of vision. All it will take will be one wrong step, a single step she will take.
And he is waiting.
Author: Shaded Mazoku.
Email: herukatto@hotmail.com.
Part: 1/1.
Disclaimer: Still not mine, I fear. Just borrowing them for fun.
Warnings: None.
Rating: PG.
Summary: There's someone there, just out of reach and sight, and she knows he's waiting for her.
Pairing(s): None.
Fandom: Final Fantasy VI.
Words: 642.
Notes: Part of a plot I'm playing with, but as a standalone Halloween fic. I'd wanted to write something longer, but... Frigging classwork.
She is sure she looks as pale as the moon, and probably nearly as cold as well. Some say that moonlight is the epitome of beauty and romance, but to her, moonlight just seem cold and harsh, causing her to look more ghostly than her shadow is. More frightened, too, eyes wide and body shivering in the chilled winter night. She pulls her shrug around her shoulders, but it does nothing to ward off a chill that comes more from the inside than as a result of the night frost.
She's not running, not really, but she's not walking either, trying to hurry, to get away from something she know will never leave her alone. In the corner of her eye, she sees a brief flash of colour, too solid and at the same time too translucent. She bites her lip, trying very hard not to give into her fears. Her home is far away, as is her family, but she can't go back, not with her shadow.
For a moment she falters, and the air around her grows instantly much colder, forming sharp fingers that brush against her skin in a too familiar way, a way she does not remember in her mind, but in her heart. Shivering again, she once again sees a flickering colour just out of reach, and in the howls of the wind, she hears a high-pitched laughter, mocking her.
But when she turns around, she sees no one, though the laughter still lingers for a while, and that chills her far more than the icy winds every could, the familiarity of it striking a chord within her.
She turns back to her path, forcing herself to not hear the laughter, not to see the ghostly flickers of flowing garments and long hair that occasionally appears. There's nowhere she can go where he cannot follow, and she's running out of options. She's getting exhausted, and she knows that is what he's trying to do; wear her down until she can't take any more.
At some point, she stumbles, falling to her knees on the cold and hard ground. The rocky surface is abrasive, rubbing her hands raw, and she winces, wishing for warmer clothes, or at least gloves. Kneeling on the ground, she looks at her hands, picking the gravel away. It burns, but to a certain extent, she welcomes the pain. It helps ground her, making her focus and driving her forwards. Carefully, she gets to her feet again and resumes walking, one step at the time. She doesn't worry about speed any more, truthfully. She can never outrun him, like her own shadow, he's always with her now, always waiting for her to break down and fall.
Though she is determined, it's so very cold, and she is getting tired. In front of her, the plains seem to go on forever, the monotony only broken up by forests in the distance. Behind her, there's more plains still, plains and a lingering remnant of her past, laughing maniacally in the wind. She wants to rest, to sleep, but he whispers in her dreams, horrifying whispers that causes her to wake screaming. Driving herself to exhaustion is safer. He can't get to her when she's unconscious.
She doesn't know who she thinks she's fooling. She's strong, stronger than most, but she's only mortal. She can't go on forever. He can. And he will never stop. She's still not ready to give in, to admit defeat, but one day she will be, and they both know it. He has won, after all, despite all their effort, and Terra shivers as once more, high-pitched laughter rings through the air, colours flickering just out of her field of vision. All it will take will be one wrong step, a single step she will take.
And he is waiting.