Absence Of Fall

By Samantha H

Disclaimer: Don't sue. All X-Files characters belong to CC and FBN etc. No infringement is
intended. And again, don't sue me. I'm a minor wielding a wicked shit eating grin.

Rating: R for violence and my filthy mouth

Summary: Mulder's on the run and it's only a matter time....

Thanks to Rebecca and all those other authors who have inspired me to become a better writer. I
guess I should thank the author who inspired this vignette, Jen.

Please ask authors permission to archive.

Notes weighted down by a rock can be found below.

All comments/criticisms welcome Cody@hurricane.net


The light hit his eyes and made them water. Launched himself off the porch and scraped his knees
bloody. Golden sun above and soft crisp decayed leaves below. They crunched and crackled
beneath his bare feet. The dirt was moist and soft. The clearing was bad. Dangerous. Fell on
broken hands and knees, held-his-breath-held-his-breath with bruised fingers entangled in the
mossy soil. Heard another loud crash behind him and broke for the woods.

shitshitshitshit

"...Gonna be in a world of hurt you little fuck--"

He crashed through the thicket, stickers ripping at his skin and begging, oh-no-no stay with us.
Heard the steady thump of boots coming for him--so-close-so-close. Coarse, unwashed tendrils of
black spilled into dark eyes cast downward. Lifted his gaze and peered out from dark circles
below his eyes, pupils sharpened to the head of a pin. Every crack of sound slipping towards him
from behind magnified to the tenth. Crunch of leaves and sharp snap of sticks that hurthurthurt
the soles of his feet--

"Better run fast, boy!..."

--Sounding distorted and perverse, breaking the columns of silence nestled snug in the quiet
wood. It had been that long. Animal sounds issued forth from the back of his throat, tiny grunts
and a sharp whine. Green became the sky, blurred by motion and panic, masked the place where
the sun hit the sky and let its fragmented pieces trickle back down from the heavens. He could see
his breath. Warmth expelled harshly before disappearing.

Hands ripped at the brush, swinging wildly. Fingernails dug and tore into the blackwood, caught
and ripped off with no second thoughts to explore the pain. Golden honey appeared, warming his
sight again with kaleidoscope streams of light that burned down through the chill of the air.

Scratches leaking thin lines of blood ran down his bare and bruised body--felt like tiny fire ants
crawling over his skin.

No sounds came from behind...back there. Didn't even entertain the insane notion of looking back
to make sure.

One of Them lunged from behind the stickers and slammed into him.

No.

Both crashed to the ground. Grunted as his shoulder was driven into the bed of stones and dirt at
the wooded floor. By pure luck he ended up on top of the figure. He took his chance and drove
its head down into the ground again and again, till it stopped flailing, just laid half-gone. He
deserted it and ran, far away--too fast. Tripped and tumbled over the undergrowth of creepers at
his feet. A crash of sound echoed throughout the forest as he hit the ground hard and bit his
tongue. Watched in horror as a school of birds burst from the undergrowth in a panicked flutter of
sound, throttling his ears.

He rolled over onto his back and gasped for air, clenched his eyes shut, opened, then closed them
again. Translucent flecks of light shifted through the barren limbs of alders that loomed over his
battered body. His chest heaved up and down, just catching his breath.

Not too far off, "Come on you little prick! We ain't got all day!"

The sobering yell snapped his eyes open--s'him-s'him-s'him! He tracked the woods with dark,
silent eyes.

Nothing.

No one.

He carefully stood, stooped in pain, tried not to make a sound. He glanced around, his movements
confused in an attempt to think clearly, but failing miserably. Tormenting shouts sent screaming
through the dense air threw the wood in up upheaval and made him pause momentarily in fear and
frustration. He finally slipped behind a thick patch of overgrowth situated in a thin circle of trees.

Crouching, he breathed sharply, swallowed hard and suddenly the wood was quiet again..... until
he took another harsh breath through his mouth.

He let his shoulders sag and lowered his head, eyes closed, mind running in panicked circles,
hurdling towards oblivion. Studied the ground with his eyes and let his gaze drift up his arms.
Stared with fierce silence at raw, bloody wrists and bruised flesh. A dark line of anguish between
his slanted eyebrows as he looked on.

The soft trickle of stones grating against each other under rubber treaded soles snapped his head
up quick. Let his lower lip tremble, but gritted his teeth against the whimper and swallowed,
forcing it back down his throat.

He could see through a thin patch of shriveled amber leaves in front of him. Muddied work boots
stumbling around.

He recognized the figure as the one he'd hurt. His mouth was slack as he watched through the
thicket, fear taking hold of his throat and mind racing as his eyes scraped along the figures wobbly
path.

Ohpleasegodpleaseplease...

Didn't hear the slight tread of well trained feet behind him. Didn't realize the fucker was so close,
watching him... He felt the cold chill of metal against his skin. A strangled gasp of noise broke
free from his throat. A whimper splintered into something unrecognizable. His eyes went black as
stark images clouded over him...them fucking dragging his ass back... there. To that place. That
fucking nightmare.....No hope. The freezing cold nights spent.... no. No Scully...just pain--

Cruel fingers knotted in his hair and violently jerked his head back. He collapsed on his back, the
wind knocked out of him. Metal slammed into his brow. The dark danced and shifted along the
back edge of his eyes, but didn't take him down.

A hand still fisted his hair while another brought the Glock up under the hollow of his chin,
nudged his head up with the barrel, daring him.

The man's eyes were dark, holding a raw fierceness about them. Sneered and grunted, shaking his
head in reproval, "You're gonna pay for this little stunt, boy."

His stomach dropped at the man's words. Knew it was true, but wasn't willing to except it.
Screamed rage through his teeth as the man leered at him and the sound of more footfalls trotted
over to them in a gloating manner.

The hold on him grew tighter.

He thrashed and screwed his eyes shut as blunt fingers bloodied his skin, but was rewarded with
the soft crunch of his knuckles impacting on the man's face.

Sounds muddled. Time slowed down to a slight and steady hum. Ears ringing as he watched life
already tarnished by the fall. Decayed auburn leaves drifted to the ground, swaying with the wind
before they finally gave in and laid down to die.

Metal cracked against the back of his skull from behind. Crashed to the ground, face smacked
against the dirt and met with the intricate edges of a few rocks. They were suddenly marred with
rusted red when he lifted his head drunkenly and slipped a screwed up glance at them sideways.

Felt a muddied boot bury itself in his side and grunted. Closed his eyes and let the dark dance
funny circles around him as they prodded him with the tips of their boots and told him to get up.

Didn't move. Just watched the dark arc and sway along with the wind, deceptively covering the
tinkling light that bared down on a few sacred points around his body. Protecting him.

Heard them chuckling softly. Paradox. A belligerent scream telling him to get the fuck up or
they'd put his ass down like a dog.

No words conveyed meaning to him. Just smiled into the ground and welcomed their threats.
Didn't care. Scully was gone. They had told him as much.

Another blow to his lower back and he couldn't help the agonized scream that raced past his lips.
Hands grabbed at pieces of him. Sunk nails into his tender flesh and pulled at his lifeless body.
Half aware that they were dragging him back. No quick death as they had promised.

He dug his fingers into the soil, held onto nothing with fierce determination. Felt the motion of
dirt slipping under his belly and groin stop, then the voice of the one he'd hurt. "I don't think so,
bud."

A work boot slammed down on his fingers. Heard a few tiny snaps as the boot twisted back and
forth, smashing his fingers atop the tiny stones that laid hidden beneath the earth.

Screamed.

Brought his other hand round and tried to push the boot off his hand as he felt a series of gut
wrenching cracks from below the boot.

A hand clamped around his wrist and brought it up around his back. The man stepped off his
fingers and grabbed his other wrist before he could cradle it against his body. Snap of cuffs behind
him and was lifted up off the ground by the linking chain, almost yanking his arms out of their
sockets. Whimpered as a torrent of heat spread up and down them.

The bloodied soles of his feet slipped along the dirt as he tried to pedal forward out of their grasp.
Only found another blow to his spine for his efforts. His face found the ground again and then
sudden weightlessness as he was lifted onto one of their shoulders. The sudden change in position
was enough.

Troubled thoughts muddled into something arcane....

And we're off to see the Wizard. The wonderful Wizard of Oz...

Sudden miserable smile, lips peeled back. Then nothing again nothing as his eyes went dead,
obscured.

A couple of tears managed to slip awkwardly up into his hairline as the grey sky dimmed and the
forest went deaf.


Feedback is worshiped Cody@hurricane.net

"It's only obvious. First he screws me then he screws you. It's Dutch door action."
-Wayne's World

Notes: This might be something more. I was just testing the waters with this piece. It all depends
on feedback. So if you liked it, tell me and I just might write a continuation.

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Email: scullyslash@hotmail.com