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Title: Breathless
Author: GW Katrina aka![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
icedark_elf
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 679
Fandom: Final Fantasy 7
Character: Zack
What kind of damage: Physical
Disclaimer: Not mine
Warnings: Character death? Maybe, maybe not. Let you decide.
Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
evil_fans_unite's Wednesday Word.
Breathless
He isn’t sure how he got into this situation, but he was pretty sure having a rope around his neck and his feet not touching the ground was one of those “this is bad” things.
Given the fact that he was in the jungle, currently surrounded by people who he had been locked in a kill or be killed situation for the last, oh, year, he was pretty sure that the rope this wasn’t going to go anywhere good.
Especially as he had lost his weapon and was currently more focused on not suffocating than anything else. And they were poking him. Poking him. Bastards. So was going to kick their asses if he got free.
Had started out an okay fight. Was out on patrol with the others, and gotten ambushed. Not unusually. The Wutanese were masters at using their surroundings to their advantage. What was the point of having the home advantage if not to use it?
Though Zack would have been perfectly happy if they hadn’t. Then this war would be over and so many people wouldn’t be needlessly dying.
He would prefer not to die, as well. It didn’t fit in with his plans, and he had planned those plans with the idea of following through on them. How was he supposed to follow the plan if he was dead?
Though it seemed like the other side had a few plans in place of their own. A quick ambush, him doing his best to not fall into the pit trap, cause the holey look was right out this year, not to mention dodging the bullets and the people trying to stab him with pointy things. He didn’t want to be stabbed with pointy things or shot. If he wanted full of holes, trap right there, people. Would do the job nicely.
Then it seemed they didn’t want to poke him to death, and a noose had been dropped around his neck and tightened before even his enhanced reflexes could react. Would have to talk to the lab guys about that one. After he did the whole not dying thing cause, again, major crimp in his plans.
He had managed to get his fingers under the rope before it had tightened all the way, though he couldn’t keep it from tightening so much that his vision was spotty. And they were still trying to poke him, though now it was more spiteful. Brats. Hell, he acted more mature than them, and he was sixteen. Hello, not poking them.
Oh, right, lack of weapon thing. Pricks.
He did manage to kick two of them in the head, hard enough that they dropped, though he couldn’t tell if they were dead or not. Then whoever had control of the rope got him a few more feet off the ground, dragging a choking sound from him and hoots from the ones below, though the burn of more slashes and cuts from the more aggressive jabbing was felt by him. That just encouraged him to make obscene gestures at them one handed. Given the response, the Wutai people who had joined Shinra had been teaching him damn good stuff. It pissed off the locals, that was all he knew, and that was good enough for him.
He really didn’t want to die, though the fact things were going black at the edges of his vision and closing in fast. Damnit, this wasn’t supposed to be happening. He was supposed to impress the higher ups, get a good pay raise, find someone to settle down with and have lots of little hims to terrorize the world with. Always wanted a him army, sounded like something to terrorize Seph and Angeal with.
Everything going fuzzy around him, he thought he heard yells, but he wasn’t sure. Even the sudden presence of ground under him as he dropped didn’t get much of a reaction other than to fold bonelessly, even as everything faded out around him, lacking the strength to even pull the noose away from where it was pressed tight.
Only darkness.
Author: GW Katrina aka
icedark_elfRating: PG-13
Wordcount: 679
Fandom: Final Fantasy 7
Character: Zack
What kind of damage: Physical
Disclaimer: Not mine
Warnings: Character death? Maybe, maybe not. Let you decide.
Written for
evil_fans_unite's Wednesday Word.Breathless
He isn’t sure how he got into this situation, but he was pretty sure having a rope around his neck and his feet not touching the ground was one of those “this is bad” things.
Given the fact that he was in the jungle, currently surrounded by people who he had been locked in a kill or be killed situation for the last, oh, year, he was pretty sure that the rope this wasn’t going to go anywhere good.
Especially as he had lost his weapon and was currently more focused on not suffocating than anything else. And they were poking him. Poking him. Bastards. So was going to kick their asses if he got free.
Had started out an okay fight. Was out on patrol with the others, and gotten ambushed. Not unusually. The Wutanese were masters at using their surroundings to their advantage. What was the point of having the home advantage if not to use it?
Though Zack would have been perfectly happy if they hadn’t. Then this war would be over and so many people wouldn’t be needlessly dying.
He would prefer not to die, as well. It didn’t fit in with his plans, and he had planned those plans with the idea of following through on them. How was he supposed to follow the plan if he was dead?
Though it seemed like the other side had a few plans in place of their own. A quick ambush, him doing his best to not fall into the pit trap, cause the holey look was right out this year, not to mention dodging the bullets and the people trying to stab him with pointy things. He didn’t want to be stabbed with pointy things or shot. If he wanted full of holes, trap right there, people. Would do the job nicely.
Then it seemed they didn’t want to poke him to death, and a noose had been dropped around his neck and tightened before even his enhanced reflexes could react. Would have to talk to the lab guys about that one. After he did the whole not dying thing cause, again, major crimp in his plans.
He had managed to get his fingers under the rope before it had tightened all the way, though he couldn’t keep it from tightening so much that his vision was spotty. And they were still trying to poke him, though now it was more spiteful. Brats. Hell, he acted more mature than them, and he was sixteen. Hello, not poking them.
Oh, right, lack of weapon thing. Pricks.
He did manage to kick two of them in the head, hard enough that they dropped, though he couldn’t tell if they were dead or not. Then whoever had control of the rope got him a few more feet off the ground, dragging a choking sound from him and hoots from the ones below, though the burn of more slashes and cuts from the more aggressive jabbing was felt by him. That just encouraged him to make obscene gestures at them one handed. Given the response, the Wutai people who had joined Shinra had been teaching him damn good stuff. It pissed off the locals, that was all he knew, and that was good enough for him.
He really didn’t want to die, though the fact things were going black at the edges of his vision and closing in fast. Damnit, this wasn’t supposed to be happening. He was supposed to impress the higher ups, get a good pay raise, find someone to settle down with and have lots of little hims to terrorize the world with. Always wanted a him army, sounded like something to terrorize Seph and Angeal with.
Everything going fuzzy around him, he thought he heard yells, but he wasn’t sure. Even the sudden presence of ground under him as he dropped didn’t get much of a reaction other than to fold bonelessly, even as everything faded out around him, lacking the strength to even pull the noose away from where it was pressed tight.
Only darkness.