Author note: Anyone who's read this before may notice a couple of changes, most notably the removal of incessant blabbering at the start of each chapter. I've recently come back to this after a long time away and partook in a bit of editing. The edited chapters are what you see now. There's only one major change, but hopefully no-one will notice. Also, formatting is messed up; there aren't extra paragraph breaks where there should be some, but it reads fairly sensibly as is.
This basically plays with the plot of the movie, but branches off quite severely at the Fall of NY. Remember your suspension of disbelief, kids, this is an attempt to make a movie based on a game seem more like a game in written form.
Quickly, we have to
Smoke floated across her face as she ran in the darkness, trying to escape from an enemy she couldn't even see. She didn't know – or care – where she was going; bumping and stumbling every few steps as she constantly looked behind her to try and catch a glimpse of her attacker. All she heard was her own desperate breaths mingled with the anguished cries of her pursuer. All she saw was
stabilise the shard before
the darkness around her, shapes of buildings invisible in the inky black. Her energy nearly spent, she suddenly found herself in an open courtyard, the pale moonlight showing her that there was no escape. There were walls all around; tall, ominous shapes looming in the black. She turned around and around, eyes desperately searching for any way out. She found
we lose her. Come on
none. The dark walls caged her in from all sides, stopping her from escaping what surely would be her death. Her mind raced frantically; where were the soldiers who were supposed to be protecting her? They had been right there and now there was nothing but the phantom behind her. Its squeal screeched out somewhere in her wake, prompting her to whirl round. This couldn't be happening; she wasn't
Aki. You won't
ready to face death yet. She could see the alpha now, the ashen moonlight dimly illuminating its barely opaque form. It neared her, knowing she was trapped, its arms raised in attack. She closed her eyes, knowing there was no way out now, waiting for the inevitable sensation of life sliding away from her. It happened sooner than she expected; the cold, icy tendrils piercing through her chest, ripping her very
die on me now!
soul from her. The cold chilled her down to her very heart as the tendril tightened around her spirit; she could feel her own grip on it slipping and loosening, nausea crashing over her in wave after wave. She was losing her grip on life itself, slowly but ever so surely. This was it. This was where her life would end. Any moment
The membrane should hold but
now. . . The chill slowly began to recede, but her spirit remained firmly where it was. She frowned, forcing her eyes open to gaze up at the gaping maw of the phantom before her. He was fading, disappearing and it took her precious moments to realise why. The soldiers. They had returned just moments too late. Or had they? The phantom was growing weaker and weaker; he was dying and he didn't have the strength to take her
we need something more. . .
with him. He squealed softly as he began to die, and as soon as he had faded into dust, she slid to the floor, her whole body numb. He may not have killed her outright, but he had left his mark on her.
'What do we need, doctor?'
Suddenly everything became more defined and she realised where she was; not trapped in the endless nightmare. She could still feel in inside her; the squirming reminder that it wasn't a dream. It had been real; the phantom attack, and she had the scars to prove it. But the pain had faded now, she noted as her eyes flickered open to show concerned scientists crowded around her. The shard was still inside her, she knew that much. It was still killing her as well, and for the moment, she couldn't escape from it. But it wasn't choking her anymore; sucking the life from her with every passing second. They had found a means of escape for her; a slim chance, but a chance all the same. Everyone still looked so concerned and worried as they crowded around her, but the oldest scientist had a glimmer of hope in his eye as he spoke.
'We need the eight spirits. . .'