The Man in the Box
The man in the box was beautiful. At least, he thought so.
The ship was quiet at that moment, his loyal subjects going about their daily lives. They were forbidden from entering this room because Gallo didn't want them to see his prized jewel; the beautiful blond man that lay deep in hyper-sleep. He reached out his hand and ran his hands over the name plate, fingers carefully tracing the name with relish. Bower. Not the most amazing name, perhaps very unexciting and ordinary, but it was his name. That made it special enough.
Gallo was captain and god of this ship, the sole survivor of flight crew 004. He had been there when that final transmission came in, felt the despair of losing his home planet. How, he didn't know, but it was gone and they were all alone in space. His ship mates hadn't taken well to it and he could see madness welling up in them, Pandorum taking a hold of their consciousness. What else was he to do but end them? They were a danger to themselves and everyone who still slept deep within the confines of the ship. Perhaps, he mused, he too was suffering from Pandorum brought about by the extended hyper-sleep and the deep, dark nothingness of space. Yet that did not matter. He was here now, the last of the flight crew, with no intention of awakening the others. The ship was his now, and he her captain, and all would obey him or be banished to the bowels of the ship to live like rats.
Still, as time had dragged on he had grown slightly bored and perhaps a bit lonely. There were women a plenty but none of them were what he wanted; they were vapid with guileful smiles and clawing, clenching talons waiting to sink into his flash and tear him asunder. They wanted power, and as of now he held most. It was not them he wanted, not their false flattery or their batting eyes, but someone hard, strong, more capable and less fickle then these women. Yet of his subjects, none existed.
So he took to walking; knowing that none would disturb him for fear of incurring his wrath. He prowled the ship in search of new rooms, unexplored territory, and un-awakened crew members; looking for something to alleviate his boredom.
And he found it.
Waiting in a room not far from the bridge, deep in stasis, he lay. White blond hair, a beard that was spreading across his face from such a long time in cryo and pale, pale skin stretched over diminished muscle. The man was not nearly as broad as he but his form was still there and Gallo thought him fascinating. It was by no means love at first sight, Gallo did not believe in that, but it was interest. A fellow member of the flight crew, an engineer and only slightly older than Gallo said the personnel reports, who still slept even after this long. Right under his very nose.
He visited the room often, studying the square planes of his face, interested in the enigma that lay before him sleeping peacefully. Gallo found himself wondering what his voice would sound like, deep timbre or lilting breath, and what colour his eyes would be. It infuriated him that the man had not yet woken and that he may never know. Still his fascination held strong and seemed to grow each day.
Gallo had been awake for eight years now, six more then he should have been, and still everyday he would stand here in this room and gaze at the sleeping visage. There were others frozen in there as well but they were insignificant fore he only cared about Bower. His hand pressed against the glass, right over where the man's heart would be. He had felt tempted to awaken him from hyper-sleep many times before now but even as his hand itched to unlock the pod and watch those eyes flutter open, he never had. Not now, not when this ship was so incomplete. Perhaps when they reached Tanis, if they reached Tanis, he would awaken this one from his sleep. And perhaps soon he too would go to sleep and when he woke he would finally watch those eyes open and know that he had made the right choice. Because he had made his choice the moment he had first stepped through that door and seen him.
He wanted the beautiful man in the box.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. This belongs to it's original writters/directors and I make no profit for it.