So yeah, you all probably hate me. Haven't updated any of my stories, and now I'm posting a new one! .
Well, I am working on my stories, but writers block makes the chapters short, and I don't want you guys to read short, crappy chapters, so it's either wait, or get shit chapters. I'm sure the wait will be worth it, hopefully.
Anyway, this is a Pitch Black/Naruto cross-over, I had this idea for like four… Five years now, since the first time I saw Pitch Black x'3 Love Richard B. Riddick~ and Naruto is just the perfect uke… He's so cute x''33!
Ok enough rambling, here's the summary;
Summary—We all know the story of Riddick and company crash landing on the remote planet with those demonic creatures. Though, what if… What if there was another creature? Not as demonic looking, and quiet cute actually, but then, he seems to have taking a liking to the little ones, Ali and Jack. And Riddick seems to have taking a liking to the little creature.
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In the depths of space, among the stars, a single ship travels. Four engines on the back, rectangular with a bit of a curve and angle, spit out exhaust flames. The millions upon billions of stars twinkle a greeting to the passing vessel. There is no sound in the deep abyss, except for the ship making a disturbance in the "wind" and causing the faintest of a whooshing sound. Though in the depths of space, even the faintest whisper is like an ear-splitting scream.
A comet travels by, cruising along nicely with a long tail of dust and debris, hot from the fire of the comet, trails behind, curving elegantly before the ship.
With an almost tired-like groan, the long ship continues on, seemingly on auto-pilot because no captain would allow for their ship to travel through the tail of a comet.
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When Darkness Falls; Chapter 1
They say most of your brain shuts down in cryo-sleep.
Flashing, red lights illuminate a creatures body, obviously male humanoid (most humans didn't know if they should call this creature a human or not), with bulging muscles that looked deadly crushing even when relaxed.
Long muscular legs are covered in long pants, too dark to tell the color, but I'd put my money on them being black. If there was better lighting…
His pants are tucked into black boots; either combat or hiking boots, seems like a mixture of the two styles.
All but the primitive side… The animal side…
His hands are bound together in front of him, connected by the wrists with a futuristic chain.
His belly and chest are covered by a thin, black wife beater. Cotton, maybe? Or something synthetic…
His head is tilted down, jaws parted by a metal bit, eyes covered by a wide cloth, also black.
Another red flash reveals chains around his neck, connecting to the cryo-sleep chamber to make sure he doesn't go anywhere. It is revealed that he's a prisoner.
No wonder I'm still awake…
He lifts his head, silently turning it to the side just slightly.
He "looks" out at the other passengers, forming a picture in his mind by inhaling deeply through his nose and smelling all the scents wafting around.
Another red flash shows another face, the skin tinted red by the lighting, unknown male. Not worth the chained man's time.
Transporting me with civilians… Sounded like forty, forty-plus.
The innards of the ship rattle quietly, bumping around and not seeming like ideal conditions for these forty-plus passengers to sleep in.
Heard an Arab voice, some hoodoo holy man. Probably on his way to New Mecca.
A dark skinned man is also illuminated by the red light, his graying beard small and trimmed down with a matching thin mustache resting on his upper lip both shine with red. His head is wrapped in a turban-like style by a tan cloth.
But what route? What route…?
Smelled a woman.
Slim body lit up, her long wavy hair settling down her back, but her body is juggled around in her cryo-sleep chamber. A soft frown pulls her lips down, face relaxed but also a bit unsettled.
Sweat, boots, tool belt, leather; Prospector type. Free settlers.
A man with a beard, not quiet like the one from before, is also jostled around in his own chamber. Though stays asleep.
And they only take the back routes.
A man with an air of authority, well built – though he had nothing on the chained man – sleeps stiffly. Blue uniform, head tilted back to expose his throat, the skin stretching over his esophagus and making the column of tubing visible through the skin. Showing the outline of your esophagus, a big mistake in the presence of a predator.
And here's my real problem; Mr. Johns. Blue-eyed devil. Planning on taking me back to slam. Only this time he picked a Ghost Lane.
A blue light flashes, coming from the chained mans cryo-sleep chamber.
Written across the glass are bold words;
LOCKOUT PROTOCOL
NO EARLY RELEASE
Long time between stops. Long time for something to go wrong.
The prisoner lowers his head again, his observing complete; for now.
Just as the man is done with his thoughts, the rattling of the ship increases before tiny rocks , acting as bullets, penetrate the thick metal hide of the ship like a sharp shiv through soft, tender flesh.
Holes riddle the ship, the tiny rocks easily sliding through the metal.
A soft sound comes from a blonde woman, her head moving to the side as sirens start to beep with an annoying trill.
Her eyes slowly open and look at the screen, taking in the information.
EMERGENCY P280 HULL BREACH
20.30 mb/min; atmosphere lost
+.750 g; gravity
†22 weeks from departure date; chrono
She stares blearily, almost unseeing, groggy from being woken up out of chrono.
The screen tells her of the breach in the Nav Bay sector of the vessel, and her eyes are wide as she blinks the sleep from the pale blue orbs.
40 CRYO-LOCKERS INTACT AND OPERATIONAL
WAKING | WAKING | WAKING
CAPTAIN | NAV OFFICER | DOCKING PILOT
Tom Mitchell | Greg Owens | Carolyn Fry
The picture starts to flash in and out and the blonde woman looks beyond the screen, across from her and into the captain's cryo-locker, only to watch as bullet sized space rocks shoot into the Nav Bay, and then into the torso of Tom Mitchell.
"Uhh…!" Was all the captain could utter until he slumped over; dead.
Fry's eyes zero onto the icon of the captain, watching the blue and red bars go down and listening to the insistent beeping.
FLAT-LINE
She looks to a red handle, wide-eyed and breathing a bit heavy, before pulling it with a shaky hand.
The doors swing open, constructed like a fridge where there's one door on top and one door on bottom, the top door swings to the left, the bottom to the right, and the cryo-locker spits out the docking pilot – who seems to be falling a bit slowly – onto the grating, Fry grunting with a soft. "Uhh…"
Another cryo-locker swings open, dumping out a male who falls on top of Fry, before grunting light as they collide.
Fry gives a few light coughs, now on her back as Owens lies on top of her, stomach-to-stomach.
"Why did I fall on you?" Owens questions with a hint of panic in his voice.
"He's dead… Cap'n's dead…"
Fry rolls to her side as Owens gropes the grating to push himself up.
"I was looking right at him." Fry rasps out with a slight choke to her words.
Owens pushes his ass out, his legs straightening as he tries to upright himself. He looks at his watch before falling back on his haunches.
"Chrono shows we have 22 weeks left so-so gravity was not supposed to kick in for another nineteen! I mean, why'd I fall at all?"
By this point his voice had gotten an octave higher and louder, taking on a panicked and desperate tune as his eyes wide as they look all around the Nav Bay, hands resting on his thighs.
"Did you hear what I said?" Fry's voice had gotten firm, commanding attention, as she stood on her hands and knees, blonde bangs falling into her eyes as she catches her breath. "Captain's dead."
Owens looks back a Fry, grim look on his face as they share a nightmare look as more panic sets in.
Fry pulls on her pilot's jumpsuit, muttering; "1550 millibars, droppin' 20 mb per minute…" She flips some switches, hitting buttons and looking at the controls as her voice wavers.
"Shit! We're hemorrhaging air. Something took a swipe at us."
She slips into a brown over coat, voice getting higher on some words as she works urgently.
"C'mon, c'mon… Just tell me we're still in the shipping lane, man." Owens zips his own jacket rather harshly with a flick of his wrist. "Just show me all those stars… Those big, bright…"
They share another haunting look.
"What?" fry croaks out, brow furrowing.
On the monitor was an orange-ish planet. Definitely not stars.
They share another look; disbelief and fear.
The whole ship is covered by fire now, entering the atmosphere of the planet as it drags them it with a swat of gravity. The ship heads straight into the clouds and cloud strata, heading to the surface of the planet like an arrow to a target.
"This is an emergency dispatch for merchant vessel hunter-Gratzner, on route to the Tangia system with forty commercial passengers on board."
Fry climbs up the stairs to the cockpit as Owens requests emergency help.
"We have been knocked out of our shipping lane and have been currently—"
Owens's voice faded out of Fry's ears as she straps herself in and flips a few switches, seeing flames licking at the windshield. She watches, horrified, as pieces of the ship break off and fly back.
"Fry where the hell's our comm's?"
Fry slide back in her seat, stopping with a jerk, and pushes some buttons. She then taps a lever and the hatches open.
One engine breaks off, Owens getting jerked around which makes him grunt from the force.
Fry gasps as the ship starts to twirl around, barreling through cloud strata as they all plummet.
A calm voice rings out, completely robotic.
"They trained you for this Fry, right?"
Fry doesn't answer, lips pursed as she tests handles and looks around the cock-pit.
Two robotic voices ring out at her.
"Deploy lower breaks now."
"Center of gravity too far, recommends purging, now."
So she does, Fry purges the engines at the end.
"What the f—?" Owens looks around with a confused expression. "Was that a purge, Fry?" He asks almost too calmly, voice tingeing irritation.
"Too heavy in the ass! Can't get my fucking nose down!"
She purges another section.
Owens rattles off statistics of the ship before he quiets down and turns his head, hearing the hiss of the closing doors behind him.
"Fry what the hell are you doing?"
"I gotta drop more load." Her voice lowers an octave, way too calm for Owens's likes.
In the Nav Bay, the passengers start to wake up, eyes blinking open as they look around groggily.
Johns looks across from his cryo-locker, pleased to see his pay-day still locked down and secure.
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It was hot. Well, it was always hot. Too hot, one might say. Why should today be any different? It shouldn't, but pointing out the obvious was the only lift of boredom one would get if they lived on this Godforsaken planet by themselves for a long time.
This is this creature's problem, currently curled up in the shade of a large cone of sand, hiding from the worst of the heat by finding a small patch of shade. Wasn't much, but it did help a bit. It was clear that he was male, from the anatomy of the lower part of his body. He wasn't exactly human though, not by a long shot.
A furry ear twitches, and large, cerulean eyes open as a follow-up. The cerulean pools blink up at a bright light in the sky, it was moving, and wasn't as bright as the three suns on this planet, so he knew that this light wasn't normal. He watches it get closer and closer to the surface of his home, golden furred fox ears twitching. They replaced his human ears, parting through his long hair.
(He recently got a hair cut from a battle with one of those creatures under ground, though he was sure they were aiming for taking his head off.)
His hair was still a bit long, reaching to his shoulder blades and falling into his eyes, though the style was a bit… Sticking out in every direction, let's just say. Soft spikes that defied gravity.
He arches his back out much like a cat from Earth-that-was, his tongue curling between sharp teeth as he yawns. He rubs his side against the sand-cone, using it as a scratching post and then he lies back down leisurely.
Clawed hands absently knead the sand as he watches the vessel crash with half-lidded, bored eyes. He should probably be interested, since nothing else ever happened, but right now he was a bit too tired to actually find anything interesting. His ears give a twitch, eyes widening with curiosity only when he started to see the ship break off into different pieces.
His ears perk up at a loud sound coming from the crash, and he raises himself up on all fours, head tilting and lowering slightly as he licks his lips, curiosity starting to overcome and buzz around in his body.
Exploreexploreexplore.
Two tails sway lazily behind him, attached to his body just above his ass, where his tail bone continues to venture out of his body. Sprouting from his shoulder blades, and being tickled by his hair, are two large, black, leathery bat-like wings. His wings are torn, bloody rips in them from a fight he got into hours prior.
His body was very deceiving, looking fragile and weak, lean with barely any muscle, but really he was strong. Stronger than most humans, and stronger than some of these creatures. He was built more for speed though, so it could see why he'd be mistaken for weak and fragile.
Those mean creatures hurt his wings… He was just hungry… Hadn't eaten in 60 years…
His ears twitch and he looks up, watching the ship crash. He digs his claws into the sand to steady himself, his wings fluttering lightly as the ground rumbles and quakes from the impact. He gives a light hiss when sand is raised from the crash and floats into his still bleeding wounds. He gives another hiss at the rustling beneath him.
Food. Meat. Hungry! Kill! Come down here!
No! Go away! You can't eat me!
He claws at the ground, like that was going to make those blood thirsty creatures leave him alone, and then looks back up at the crashing ship, sharp, blue eyes watching a blonde man (though that man's hair wasn't as beautiful as his! *haughty sniff*) clings to a pole for dear life, his jaws clenched tightly and eyes screwed shut.
The creature's head tilts.
His lips and jaws part, four points of sharpened and lengthened canines glinting in the beams of the three suns as a soft clicking sound bubbles up and bounces around in the back of his throat.
He slinks forward, his skin twitching lightly when it's tickled by the scraps of his clothes. His clothes may be scraps, but they were doing one heck of a job keeping what should remain private, private.
Clawed fingers and toes dig into the sand as it shifts under his light steps, making sure he doesn't slip and fall, and keeping him quick on his feet. The grip helps him glide effortlessly over the sand, allowing him to slink quietly and quickly towards the crash site.
Blue eyes take in the steaming scar in the surface of his home, making him frown lightly. If that wound had gotten any deeper in the planet's flesh… He shivers when the ground shifts under him, his tail bristling.
Dangerdangerdanger!
He ignores his instinct, knowing that these creatures couldn't get to him if the suns stayed up. But when darkness falls… He shivers again, not going to deny that he was truly terrified of these creatures, but he had to swallow that fear down if he was going to survive.
He climbs onto a big thing, a cryo-locker, though he didn't know what it was. All he saw was the dead human inside, bleeding and still warm. His head tilts and he plunges his hands inside, digging into the man's torso with his claws and licking his lips in anticipation. Soon, his 60 year hunger would be sated. Soon, he could fill his belly with warm meat.
He rips out the man's small intestines, indulging himself and quickly hollowing out the human's torso, eating everything and anything, before moving on.
He indulges himself on a few others, his wings fluttering lightly in glee as his belly slowly fills up to being satisfied.
He remembers his desperation in feeding, attacking a few of those creatures and trying to kill them, and he had. But then another, bigger and stronger one would come along and almost kill him, stealing his meal. So he hadn't eaten in little over sixty years, fighting back the pains of starvation and just slept most of the time. It's all he could really do.
After filling his belly, he looks up, licking his lips clean and then licking his claws clean. Didn't want to go around smelling like blood, those creatures would get as desperate as him and come to the surface just to snag him.
His ears twitch again, the calling of a child. A scared, confused child. In a dialect he couldn't understand, well, he didn't remember how to talk with humans. Only the feral talk he did now. He bolts off in that direction, instincts screaming at him;
Protect Kitling!
A low, rumbling growl enters his vocal chords, vibrating around in his throat as his wings flare out as he runs, hands and feet pounding on the ground and his stomach scraping the sands as he runs like a leopard, his muscles contracting and moving rapidly for him to move quickly to the ship.
He skids to a stop at the side of the ship, tilting his nose to the air and inhaling deeply, his lips parting half way through the inhale so he can taste to air on his tongue.
Sweat, confusion. Female, male, twelve humans. Fear.
He turns his head, sniffing at the rip of the ship and inside of it. He blinks, curiosity momentarily overriding his need to protect the Kitling.
Interesting…
He slinks inside, looking around and letting his pupils dilate to large circles, the cerulean almost getting swallowed up.
His wings fold back against his shoulders, laying down his back, and he hopes over a large pipe that had fallen down onto the grating.
The curious hybrid creature sniffs around, wandering the small section of the ship he had hopped into, and clicking lightly, getting a mental map of the layout of the vessel before his eyes could see everything.
He looks up, clicking lightly and softly as he slinks silently, the only sound was his claws making a soft tink against the metal grating that was the floor. He stays low, cautious as well, just incase there were hostile creatures that would love nothing more than to rip him apart like the ones below his claws.
He turns a corner, then pauses, staring at a very large creature, head tilted down with his eyes covered, something in his mouth, and his arms restrained behind his back. He blinks, hiding behind an upturned piece of metal, and peeking through the holes at the very large and intimidating male.
And his scent! Made his wings press to his back and his tail flatten on his rear, curling closer to himself a bit as he swallows down a lump in his throat.
What was this?
