Out of the Frying Pan . . .
Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. I have written this story for entertainment purposes only and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author(s).
STORY STATUS: Completed 6/7/06
SERIES/SEQUEL INFO: Into the Abyss, follows 'Abysmal'
ARCHIVE PERMISSIONS: Ask first. I'll probably say yes.
WORD COUNT: 260
Tall, blond and ugly times two lead me down through the corridors to a large room.
Ouch! Gravity works.
In a very weird way.
Oh yeah, this is so not fun.
Damn. However he's holding me to this over sized metallic spider web, it's strong. It's hard as hell to turn over. Not to mention the damn thing is just hard period. A pillow would be nice. Guess I'm not going anywhere anytime soon.
Dang. This guy should have his picture in the dictionary under creepy. He's definitely got the `I'm the big bad Gou'ald, fear me!' look down pat.
Ahhh, twenty questions. My favorite game.
Not! Time to break out the ole O'Neill charm.
Didn't your mother ever teach you not to play with knives? Nor is it nice to use them on people. I can honestly say I've never seen one like that before. This is gonna hurt.
Crap! Guess she didn't. See, told ya Carter, aliens are always poking me full of holes. A bit rude, I'd say.
Yipee. Round two.
Crap! Someday I'll learn not to antagonize the psychos with the knives.
Doesn't this guy understand the meaning of `I don't have a freaking clue what your talking about!'?
And lookie here, yet another knife. He releases a third knife, which sinks deep into my chest. Okay! That really hurts!
Damn knife is acting like a stopper so there isn't much blood leaking outta me, but I can feel my grasp on life slipping.
That sarcophagus is looking pretty damn good right about now.
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