Title: Don't you want to try to die?
Rating: PG 13 and a bar of soap, for foul language and even fouler grammar
Disclaimer: Apparently, merely adding a disclaimer that says fiction is not enough...so: I Own Nothing, except the voice in my head...
Author's Notes: This story came to me after watching Pitch Black way too many times. Than I went into a sort of fan fiction frenzy and decided to give the voice in my head a chance. Little did I know that there were other creatures lurking in there as well: predators, aliens...The plot is still raw and it will probably take some time before it makes some sense, but bear with me, I'm new at this. Hope you enjoy a little mystery!
Feedback: "There is no failure...only feedback"
Deep Space...it's the shit-bucket of the Universe! Some say it's just beyond the Border. But what do their sorry asses know? There's no left or right, above or beyond...Deep Space is just in the middle of freakin' nowhere...farther away from any known sentient settlement. Most people don't know, half don't believe, the rest just don't give a shit...believe me, ignorance is the mother of all bliss! No one has seen it...not your average 'verse dweller, anyway...no...Deep space comes to you...with blood and pain.
So this is my story: smuggler, caught, convict, escaped, crashed, died...and ended up here. Had the dubious luck of being picked up by a real tuned-up ship with some real crafty recovery-job meditations...surreal, huh? They patched me up, took away the hurt - shattered rib cage, perforated lungs if you can imagine - and left the pain. Apparently, these mofos have never heard of anesthetics before. I learned real quick to butch up and stay the fuck quiet...my new crew didn't appreciate bitchin'...Well, the verdict was in: Gustav 'Gus' Horner was officially dead to the 'verse and born to the darkness of Deep Space. This is where I am now, and it seems to be...as far as an eternity.
It's been five years...shit, I've never gotten used to count time Deep Space style. Naw, still cling to your usual timer. It's all the same anyway...well, in five years, I've seen and done unbefreakingleavable things...
Wanna find out?