Hey Guys! I know I am still creating Number 9 but I really want to create another story called Zer0. It's not that I have this obsession with numbers I just feel like it makes test subjects more realistic and bad ass. Don't ask why though because I am still not 100% sure why though myself lol.
Zero is an alien who was being tested on T2 and still currently lives there and thrives as the animal she is. Riddick comes along and promises her safety if she will help them skip the planet together.
Prelude
(Zero's POV)
"Such a lonely day and its mine. The most loneliest day of my life. Such a lonely day should be band. Its a day that I cant stand...Commence guitar!" I sighed. This song is the story of my life. I wonder if there is anyone else like me out there. I ask myself this everyday and wonder why haven't they come looking for me. Oh, right, maybe because I was there test subject for a few good years.
I sat back in the office looking at old records just like I did everyday. I read or rather attempted to read the old files that had my number on it. I was never good at reading and the reasoning behind this was I was never taught. If it weren't for 500 year old music I don't think I would even be able to speak. I am slowly trying to teach myself how to read. I don't think I would be possible if I didn't have eidetic memory, but what is the use of having eidetic memory if the only memoirs you have are not that helpful. Well, they are helpful in a sense that it helps me remember how to take on the beasts below and should someone ever decided "Hey let's go fly to that dead planet and poke the sand with a stick!" they could tell me what these letters were and from then on I could learn how to read for myself. Until then I will have to sit here and rot in the corner until I can figure out what these words mean.
The files I am currently looking at are my own. I know they are my own because they have my picture in the booklet. Yeah, I have a booklet. Any other test subject here may have had a folder or two on them. Me, on the other hand had a briefcase filled with information and pictures of me. The pictures themselves came by the dozens. But they were all from when I was about 5. I know it was me in the pictures though. I have seen many people in the 6 years I was tested on but none of them looked like this nightmare in the pictures. The girl in the picture had the same white hair, red eyes, and petite body just like I do. The only difference between the current picture I am holding and myself is the look of innocence in the girls eyes. I wish I was that innocent little girl again. The doctors here turned me into a monster. I would kill anything should they piss me off. What's worse is I like it. I like killing things. Not because I am crazy... well okay I am a bit crazy but after spending 28 years all alone on a planet and every corner you turn there is something trying to kill you, I am pretty sure anyone would go crazy. Anyways, I don't kill just to kill. I wait until I have a reason. If for some reason I saw someone in the need of help I would help them to my fullest extent. If someone I knew needed help but they gave me a bad vibe I wouldn't. If someone who hurt me mentally or physically and they were being chased by the other experiments, I would let them die, but of course this is all wishful thinking. No one would ever come to this planet. And as if right on cue my ears heard a break in the sound barrier.