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Tru Calling: To Prevail

Rapture
Where have you left me I'm so cold
Why have you put me on a hold
I made a promise with you
And stayed so true to you
Still you're draining me of soul
Feeding me the cold
Leaving me so alone


She doesn't know where her feet would lead her to. She doesn't recognize the path that leads her down a maze of uncertainty as a veil of obscurity seems to cloak her judgment. She was just being. Just walking.

Suddenly, the sky above her changes color, morphing into a crimson red and murky gray. Something tells her she is almost there. Almost ready to face the final battle with her pre-destined opposite.

For as she stood on the precipice of Life, he stood on the precipice of Death. However, to prevail, one must defeat the other.

She then finds herself wandering off the path and into a strange building she doesn't recognize. It is seemingly deserted, yet she finds a variety of weapons inside. The filthy walls are cracked and its crevices only make it seem more damaged.

Grabbing a weapon, she heads back out, following the path to wherever it may lead her. And then it dead ends.

She finds herself standing on one end of a piece of land; her nemesis standing on a piece of land opposite her, his face a mask of calm collectiveness. He's been waiting for her.

A low wall is the only thing that stands between Life and Death now.

I'm moving around around around the thought of you
I'm yearning to slip and fall and crash into you


"I've been waiting for this for a long time, Tru," Jack Harper tells her, a satisfactory smirk plastered across his face.

"You and me both," Tru Davies sneers, her dark brown eyes narrowing to meet his crystalline blues. "So this is how it's gonna end, huh?"

He chuckles. "It doesn't have to end this way, but seeing as you'll never understand the natural order of the universe, then maybe it should."

"If it means that I don't have to put up with anymore of your sarcastic remarks, then I'll take whatever I can get."

"Tell you what, Davies," he says, shifting his weight as he grips the weapon in his left hand a little tighter. "I'll let you take the first shot. Seeing as we both know how this has to end anyway."

"Since when is Death being so generous? Seems out of character. Even for you, Jack."

"Then I guess we don't know each other too well, Tru. Which is a shame; really, because I will miss these little mind games we like to play."

"What if this isn't even real? What if it's just our minds playing tricks on us? Some dream that Fate and Destiny wanted us to have so we can each keep battling each other elsewhere?"

Would it bring you to me
If I lost myself in endless sleep?
Would it help to fall captive
To an empty dream?


"I always knew you were a clever girl, Tru, but even you know there's no such thing as empty dreams. Every bit of this is real. Every bit of this is happening right now whether you like it or not. This is what it's all come down to now. No more rewind days for either of us."

"Is that really what you -…"

But before she could finish her sentence, she felt something hit her. She wasn't sure what it was; she only knew that the blow taken to her shoulder had been hard and fast. And suddenly, she was falling… as her hand reached reflexively to her shoulder to stop the flow of dark crimson… as she crumpled to her knees in defeat… but she had to prevail…

Would you rescue me
If I fell into obscurity?
Would you catch me just before
I've fallen in too deep?


"No…" she whispers.

"This is how it has to end, Tru. Only one of us can prevail."

"It can't…" she pleads, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Please, Jack. Not yet. Not this way…"

Her weapon has already fallen from her grasp and it is out of her reach as she suffers another blow and her vision becomes cloudy. Everything blurs like the mysterious colors of the sky that are still shades of red and gray.

I'm moving around around around the thought of you
I'm yearning to slip and fall and crash into you


Though unconsciousness threatens to pull her under, she maintains solid eye contact with the man opposite her: Death himself.

The one person she swore she would loathe and yet…

I've fallen in too deep…

Suddenly, two bodies bolt upright in bed simultaneously. Sweat and abject horror cover their faces as one refuses to look at the other, both lost in their own thoughts.

Death's voice cracks the lingering silence.

"What the hell was that?"

She waits, not wanting to answer him right away. She finds herself suddenly cold; the thick blankets are suddenly not warm enough to heat the exposed skin of her naked flesh. She couldn't help but wonder if it was their lovemaking that had brought on this nightmare, one smothered in a violent escapade both wanted to forget.

One has to prevail…

Licking her dry lips, she turns to him and swallows. "I don't know."

He leans over and kisses her, albeit briefly, running a hand through the brilliant maze of her dark brown curls. She doesn't pull away.

She lets the warmth of his lips embrace her, drawing her in deeper. But as he pulls away and gazes into the haunting depths of her dappled brown eyes, her voice chills him, precariously hanging on a whisper in the night's still air.

"Is that how this will end?"

Fin.