The Apsaras Series 2:

                                                                Some Call Her Serqet  


                                                                                                                                                                                                                           By:  Stacy L.   



CATEGORY:  Angst, Drama, POV, Vingette

TABLE FIC PROMPT:  #030. Death

WARNINGS:  Dark, Disturbing Imagery, Violence

COMPLETED:  July 6, 2006


AUTHOR’S NOTES:  Serqet is an Egyptian goddess of the underworld.  She is often referred to as the scorpion goddess and is a protector of the dead and of the living.


This story serves as a response to the stargatefic100 LiveJournal challenge community for my Daniel Jackson table.


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Daniel’s POV


They call me an animal. They call me a monster. They call me wicked, perverse and derranged. They push me and push me, driving me down, driving me deeper into despair.

I tell them I'm not an animal, and they laugh at me. One pulls me violently upright, ordering me to stand on all fours, while the other ties a rope around my neck and yanks until I can barely breathe. They laugh harder telling me I'm nothing but a pathetic beast. I fight. I try to resist yanking against the chains that secure me fast to the floor. The more I resist the harsher they yank until my ears start to ring and blackness stalks me, threatening to capture me...

Sometimes I find myself wishing for death, praying and hoping that they will succeed in ending my life, that their sinister games will one day go too far. Does that mean I'm lost, a hopeless cause? No, I don't think so, for I fight so hard against them. I fight to live. I fight to survive and even when I feel the angel of death draw near I still fight. I fight her, and I resist her lure.

She visits me often and stands by watching, waiting... She knows death is close for me now, and she's ready to welcome me into her open arms. She watches and waits ready to accept me into her care and guide my spirit away. Sometimes I'll gaze at her, beckon her to come closer, but she just shakes her head forming three words that come to me in a whisper, "Not your time..."

Sometimes I'm angry with her. Sometimes I'm hopeful when I see her, and other times I tremble before her not wanting to die. As if she senses my fear she again shakes her head and softly whispers, "It's not yet your time."

If it's not my time then why does she visit? Is it because she can see how very close I wander to the edge of death, or is it for another lost soul trapped in these horrifying dungeons? I wonder sometimes if she visits me to give me hope and urge me to fight. I know that sounds silly, the angel of death providing hope, but for some that is what she is, while for others she's their worst nightmare.

"It's not yet your time..."

She rarely speaks, except those haunting words over and over to me. She's a comfort to me. She's a sign of hope. I know that someday it will be my time, and I believe when she finally appears before me that I'll gladly go with her and finally I will have peace. Finally, I will be free. I wish I could say there was another means of escape for me, but I fear there is none. I am among those lost souls that time has forgotten. I am one of those souls that has fully merged with darkness and silence, for if no one knows you're among the living how then are they ever to save you?

I smile as I see her again and this time she beckons me. Should I follow or should I stay? Is it my time or is she just visiting me? I see her reach for me, closer now then ever before, but she does not touch me. Instead I see a lone tear tumble down across her beautiful pale cheek as her hand hovers as if to stroke my face and offer comfort, but all she has to offer me are five words that she sadly repeats:

"It's not yet your time..."







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