Burning Snowflakes [Rewrite] - Part 1
Summary: Itās 1997 and Fox Mulder has found himself watching a small village in the middle of nowhere Russia burn to a crisp. Men are shouting, guns are firing and in the midst of it all there is a little girl. Mulder saves her.Ā
Okay. So. Once upon four years ago I was a young teen. I wrote this fic. I completed this fic. I never finished it properly. Iāve spent the last four years being haunted by it. In that time I have worked on rewriting it. Itās still not finished, but I have a handful of chapters that can be published.Ā
For now, Iāll leave you with this one.Ā
Set S4, before āNever Againā
He found himself captivated, entrapped, and in awe. She caught his attention after a little while. Just a speck in the world laid out before him. She was merely a young girl who should not have held any significance at all, but she held his attention almost frightfully. It was the military styled pea green coat that covered her shoulders and little frame, that caught his eye, the white stockings that were starting to get mud stains and the little black shoes on her dainty feet. She looked out of place in a world that was falling down around her.
The snowflakes were burning. Snow fell and ash arose blood soaked and heavy with the extra burden. Hysteria rolled through the hidden little town as its occupants screams strangled the air. What he could believe was once a quiet village now had all of its serenity stolen, ripped right from its glass case.
Disaster struck and he had no idea what for, nor its cause. He didnāt even know why he was there or who had sent him. Perhaps he had been sent to walk through his own grave. Surely not. A singular note had been taped to his desk in the early hours of the previous morning. At first he was hesitant to react, even his peculiar and curious mind told him to leave it be. Besides, the last time he was there Fox Mulder didnāt have much luck with spying. But there he sat anyway, a vantage point hidden in forest foliage.
Concealed in-between mapped out lonely highways, hiking paths, hills and feral wildlife, life had found its end. Ā
He was in Russia. The year, 1997, and a silent war was ragging. The world in this sleepy little town was coming to a painful end. People here were being kicked out of their homes and shot at point blank range on the street. It was like World War II had hit all over again. The devastation. The execution. There had to be a logical explanation. Yet, why was it that these people were being segregated against, compared to the rest of the world? What had these people done that others hadnāt? Why were they out there being killed in the one place they should have felt safe? And why was she, the little girl, all alone in the mess of the world?
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