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jennickelsOk, not one of my best. I really don't do good at writing really short stories, especially for Stargate.
Waiting For Death
by jennickels (aka Jen Connelly)
Stargate SG-1
Jack
130 words
rating: PG-13
WARNINGS: death of main characters
Sometimes the torture is the means of escape because living is too painful. Written for the weekly drabble challenge at writerverse, prompt: waiting for death.
don't own... wish I did, but I don't. No infringement intended.
The fire burned in his head—a blazing heat that stabbed straight through, lighting every nerve in his body. It was agony.
And Jack O'Neill welcomed it. He grit his teeth against the onslaught of the hand device, feeling one crack under the pressure. He didn't care in the least, the pain insignificant in his mind.
He refused to talk, not out of any altruistic notion of honor or to protect Earth. No, his refusal to give in to the torture had one purpose—escape.
Beside him, the bodies of his teammates lay in ruin—sacrificed in the name of all that was good. He was proud of each one. And desperate to not live another minute without them. He let the pain wash over him.
And waited for death.
Waiting For Death
by jennickels (aka Jen Connelly)
Stargate SG-1
Jack
130 words
rating: PG-13
WARNINGS: death of main characters
Sometimes the torture is the means of escape because living is too painful. Written for the weekly drabble challenge at writerverse, prompt: waiting for death.
don't own... wish I did, but I don't. No infringement intended.
The fire burned in his head—a blazing heat that stabbed straight through, lighting every nerve in his body. It was agony.
And Jack O'Neill welcomed it. He grit his teeth against the onslaught of the hand device, feeling one crack under the pressure. He didn't care in the least, the pain insignificant in his mind.
He refused to talk, not out of any altruistic notion of honor or to protect Earth. No, his refusal to give in to the torture had one purpose—escape.
Beside him, the bodies of his teammates lay in ruin—sacrificed in the name of all that was good. He was proud of each one. And desperate to not live another minute without them. He let the pain wash over him.
And waited for death.
