Kill or be killed, this was something that was always at the forefront of his thoughts. How many times had it come down to that? How many people had died at his hand, while he survived? He always survived. The thought almostbrought a smile to his face, though wholly inappropriate at the moment. It really wasn't that he wanted to kill, he hated it actually. It's such a big responsibility, to end another persons life and walk away. It was hell to live with, if you had a conscious. Fortunately all traces of that had been eradicated by a certain black lunged son of a bitch and his friends.
It didn't matter much anymore, his fate was sealed and continued on with the quest even though the others had failed. Failing was not an option in this game, too much was at stake. Unfortunately the stakes were rising, and another major player had outlived his usefulness. In a way, he hated to see this one go.
"Get out of the car."
Taking his foot off of the smashed cell phone, he raised his gun at the player in question keeping his emotions in check. At one time he had thought this man would be the one to bring about the end of this, it seemed a waste to of saved him all those times just to end his live himself. The man at gunpoint wouldn't see his internal conflict, he knew, he had become Judas in his eyes years before.
"It doesn't seem fair now," his words held a tinge of his regret, "it doesn't seem right. Coming out of this.."
"What do you know about fair or right, Kryceck, you're a coward," the mans words were flat, and bitter.
"I could have killed you so many times, Mulder, you've gotta know that. I'm the one that kept you alive." It seemed absurd to be defending himself to the man he had to kill, but every word he said was true. Mulder was still too naive, he was the white knight in this game but still helpless. Alex struggled to take a breath, keeping the gun aimed at him. "Praying you'd win somehow."
"Then there really is no god." Mulder didn't even bother with bitterness, his eyes were dark with what he felt toward him. It was almost tragic, that he still didn't see the bigger picture, that colonization was inevitable. In the bigger picture they were all pawns, less than that even. He was trembling inside, knowing that Mulders resistance couldn't be tolerated anymore.
"Do you think I'm bad? That I'm a killer? We wanted the same thing,
brother, that's what you don't understand." He kept the gun trained on his target, his anger pushing him to just pull the trigger and end this showdown.
"I wanted to stop them, all you wanted was to save your own ass."
"I tried to stop them... I tried to kill Scullys baby to stop them. It's too late. The tragedy is that you wouldn't let it go, that's why I have to do this. That is how deep it goes, right into the FBI." He wanted to scream at him, maybe volume would sink into Mulders thick head. Arrogant as hell, he couldn't see the flip side of his holy quest. That ignorance will be your downfall, he thought with a tinge of sadness.
"If you want to kill me, Alex, kill me. Like you killed my father. Just don't insult me by trying to make me understand."
He was right in doing this, Kryceck knew what he was doing was for the best. Not just for him but for humanity. Pulling the trigger use to be so easy, index finger in, target dead. But he was shaking inside, torn by what he wanted to do and what he had to do. He had to kill him. Slowly, with resolution he put pressure on the trigger only to be thrown back by fire exploding through his arm making him drop the gun.
Assistant Director Walter Skinner stood gun straight, the sound of the bullet echoing through Krycecks head as he slowly lost any feeling but pain in his right arm. Bastard, playing on a weakness, physically and his mental indecision. Blinking back his anger, he reached toward his gun. The pain was too great, and he couldn't fail. He never failed.. he always survives..
Before he could touch the cold metal of the gun, more fire ripped throughhis shoulder, knocking him to the ground. His mind was screaming, he'd been so weak, he had to get to his feet. It would only take one shot.. but he couldn't move his right arm and the prosthesis only nudged it away.
Bitterness washed over him, he looked toward Skinner. "It's going to take more bullets than you can ever fire to win this game. One I can give you a thousand lives... shoot Mulder."
The marine looked at Kryceck, and then for a moment at Mulder. Even
before he came all the way to his feet, he knew he had finally seen his luck run out. Kryceck, casualty of his own damn stupidity and weakness for a noble spirit. How pathetic. Casting one last look at his gun, Kryceck caught a glimpse of Skinners before the world became a roar of sound and pain. Then nothing.
As Alex Kryceck fell to asphalt of the parking lot he knew calm that he never glimpsed in life.
***
It didn't matter much anymore, his fate was sealed and continued on with the quest even though the others had failed. Failing was not an option in this game, too much was at stake. Unfortunately the stakes were rising, and another major player had outlived his usefulness. In a way, he hated to see this one go.
"Get out of the car."
Taking his foot off of the smashed cell phone, he raised his gun at the player in question keeping his emotions in check. At one time he had thought this man would be the one to bring about the end of this, it seemed a waste to of saved him all those times just to end his live himself. The man at gunpoint wouldn't see his internal conflict, he knew, he had become Judas in his eyes years before.
"It doesn't seem fair now," his words held a tinge of his regret, "it doesn't seem right. Coming out of this.."
"What do you know about fair or right, Kryceck, you're a coward," the mans words were flat, and bitter.
"I could have killed you so many times, Mulder, you've gotta know that. I'm the one that kept you alive." It seemed absurd to be defending himself to the man he had to kill, but every word he said was true. Mulder was still too naive, he was the white knight in this game but still helpless. Alex struggled to take a breath, keeping the gun aimed at him. "Praying you'd win somehow."
"Then there really is no god." Mulder didn't even bother with bitterness, his eyes were dark with what he felt toward him. It was almost tragic, that he still didn't see the bigger picture, that colonization was inevitable. In the bigger picture they were all pawns, less than that even. He was trembling inside, knowing that Mulders resistance couldn't be tolerated anymore.
"Do you think I'm bad? That I'm a killer? We wanted the same thing,
brother, that's what you don't understand." He kept the gun trained on his target, his anger pushing him to just pull the trigger and end this showdown.
"I wanted to stop them, all you wanted was to save your own ass."
"I tried to stop them... I tried to kill Scullys baby to stop them. It's too late. The tragedy is that you wouldn't let it go, that's why I have to do this. That is how deep it goes, right into the FBI." He wanted to scream at him, maybe volume would sink into Mulders thick head. Arrogant as hell, he couldn't see the flip side of his holy quest. That ignorance will be your downfall, he thought with a tinge of sadness.
"If you want to kill me, Alex, kill me. Like you killed my father. Just don't insult me by trying to make me understand."
He was right in doing this, Kryceck knew what he was doing was for the best. Not just for him but for humanity. Pulling the trigger use to be so easy, index finger in, target dead. But he was shaking inside, torn by what he wanted to do and what he had to do. He had to kill him. Slowly, with resolution he put pressure on the trigger only to be thrown back by fire exploding through his arm making him drop the gun.
Assistant Director Walter Skinner stood gun straight, the sound of the bullet echoing through Krycecks head as he slowly lost any feeling but pain in his right arm. Bastard, playing on a weakness, physically and his mental indecision. Blinking back his anger, he reached toward his gun. The pain was too great, and he couldn't fail. He never failed.. he always survives..
Before he could touch the cold metal of the gun, more fire ripped throughhis shoulder, knocking him to the ground. His mind was screaming, he'd been so weak, he had to get to his feet. It would only take one shot.. but he couldn't move his right arm and the prosthesis only nudged it away.
Bitterness washed over him, he looked toward Skinner. "It's going to take more bullets than you can ever fire to win this game. One I can give you a thousand lives... shoot Mulder."
The marine looked at Kryceck, and then for a moment at Mulder. Even
before he came all the way to his feet, he knew he had finally seen his luck run out. Kryceck, casualty of his own damn stupidity and weakness for a noble spirit. How pathetic. Casting one last look at his gun, Kryceck caught a glimpse of Skinners before the world became a roar of sound and pain. Then nothing.
As Alex Kryceck fell to asphalt of the parking lot he knew calm that he never glimpsed in life.
***