The Nightmare Begins

"Speech"

'Thought'

Disclaimer: all things recognized from Pitch Black do not belong to me. Pitch black is a Universal production and written by 3 dudes. I am not one of said dudes nor am I a dude at all.

*Ready, steady, start reading*

It was a chance at a new start. A chance at forgetting the past and move on to the next stage of my life. But for everything good that has happened in my life, something bad always seems to follow.

I made my way through the docking bay looking for a ship called The Hunter Gratzner. Didn't take long to find, though I must say it was not what I was expecting.

"This is it? … dear god, don't let me die" I said to myself. Now don't get me wrong it was a fine looking ship but… well let's just say it's seen better days.

Oh where are my manners … might have put them out with the trash… my name is Alana Thompson. I'm 5' 6, 120Ib, 19 and on my way to New Mecca. I have shoulder length black hair that flairs slightly out, my eyes though are not what you would call normal. You see my eyes are a very vibrant amethyst but the outer ring is black, like I said they aint normal.

As I walked towards the door I saw a man with three boys, some hoodoo holy man, probably joining me on my way to New Mecca. I made my way to a cryo chamber, and me being me, decided to see who I was traveling with.

I already figured the holy man and his charges, there was also a stick looking man who seemed like he needed to pull himself out of the mud. Get it? stick in the mud… nothing… alright moving on.

"Do you mind moving little missy" a voice, laced in a southern accent, said pulling me from my observations. I turned around to see a man about 5'9 with blond hair and blue eyes. Not all that bad looking either but so not my type, he seemed a bit too full of himself.

"Sorry 'bout that must have zoned out" now realizing I was standing in the middle of the walk way.

As the blond guy passed I noticed he was dragging someone else with him. He was one buff mofo with a shaved head and this aura about him that screamed predator.

His eyes were covered with some fabric creating a makeshift blindfold but I swear he was watching, calculating all he could and could not see. There was a bit in his mouth, his hands and feet were chained together as well. Whoever he was he wasn't getting away without some difficulty.

I continued watching as Blondie chained the bald guy in his cryo tube readying him for travel. After closing him in, the cryo read lockdown protocol, no early release guess he did somethin' wrong… besides getting caught of course. With his original job done the blond guy turned and faced me like he knew I was watching, but all he did was raise an eyebrow and smirk. That's when I got ready in my own cryo, nursing the feeling that something wasn't right.

I was still drowsy from my forced slumber but I noticed there was a flashing behind my eyelids and everything was shaking and shuttering around me, then there was… nothing. I must have hit my head because the next thing I know there's a shadow hovering over me and all noise is just a ringing in my ears.

Finally my vision clears enough to reveal a woman; curly brown hair was what I saw most of.

"You alright there, you seemed to take a nasty bump to the head" she asked me.

"I'm fine or I will be in a sec anyway" I answered in reply.

"Names Shazza"

"Alana"

"It's a pleasure I'm sure" and with that she walked off, bit of a bitch move if you ask me but whatever.

After a while of sitting around I walked outside, and god damn was it bright… so I turned around and walked back in hoping that the lockers for our personal items were still there.

For once luck was on my side, so I grabbed my sunglasses, nothing else was really needed. As I began to walk away I decided to grab my music player, never know when you wanna drown someone out. While on my way back out I wasn't sure if I should be happy or frustrated with my outfit.

The worn black denim short shorts, white tank top complete with design, and knee high boots would keep me cooler than everyone else but damn was I gonna look like a shriveled tomato...all red and dehydrate.

When I finally made it back out no one was there, looking up I saw that everyone was on the roof. 'Odd place for a get together but whatever floats their tug boats' I thought to myself. Climbing up to join them I heard them all talking about being short of breath.

"Is anyone else having difficulties breathing?" asked twiggy… I really should learn these people's names. "Yeah I feel one lung short… all of us" said Shazza "I feel like I just ran or something" sounded like the kid, I wasn't paying enough attention as it was to know exactly who said what.

I zoned everything out after reaching the 'captains' side, too busy staring at the carnage that followed the crash. 'If anyone survived that… well who am I kidding no one could possibly live through that' "… saving our dicks" was all I heard when I came back. I turned around so quick I swear I got whip lash

'Hold the phone, WHAT THE HELL did I miss?' "no really… thanks awfully" 'oh their thanking her… for what I don't know… but it's better than where my mind went'.

When the blond lady left I decided to learn names. There was Zeke who apparently was Shazza's husband; twig man's name was Paris, the blond ladies name was Fry, then there was the cop Johns, and a kid named Jack. The kid seemed fun so we might just get along.

I left the holy man as Imam and since I don't speak… whatever language they do, I didn't even bother with his charges. Then there was the resident bad ass… Richard B, Riddick, the boogey man incarnate.

Fearing boredom I followed Fry, thought I should say my thanks seeing as I didn't before… ok really I just wanted to see the convict. Walking up I heard talking and decided that I would rather eavesdrop than deal with either of them.

"Is he really that dangerous" whispered Fry "only to humans" came Johns reply 'this dudes more like an executioner then a cop'. When the two walked off I decided to say hi to the chained man.

I creped my way over, watching as his head tilts towards me as I did. I just stared for a while not sure what to do next. "That bit can't be all that nice I bet" I swear he rolled his eyes at me.

Not really thinking about the outcome I decided to be nice. Pulling out some bobby pins from my hair I knelt by his side, when I did he turned to face me hiding the lock from view.

"You know it's kinda hard to pick a lock when you can't see the lock your picking" to that he just cocked his head then turned in the other direction.

It was a simple lock only took about a minute and off fell the mouth piece. "You sure that was a good idea, Johns won't be too happy when he finds out" he said in a deep sarcastic voice "I won't tell if you won't" was all I said before sauntering off.

I joined the others at the storage unit that held the bulk of the passenger cargo. Most of it seemed to belong to Paris, as every time I reached out to examine an odd item I got a loud "don't touch that" from him. One item in particular caught my attention; it was a Naginata*, a weapon from a time long since gone.

I remember reading about them when I was ten in one of the books I stole…BORROWED, I meant borrowed. After I finished the book I made my own pitiful excuses of a Naginata out of a very long stick and 'practiced' with it. At twelve a friend of mine made a replica for me, it was good quality if not a little small but it was hard to hide when you have a 14 inch blade on a 50 inch pole. People tend to remember that, so I had to leave it behind when I ran. Plus who brings a blade to a gun fight, as much as I loved it, it was just dead weight.

With that said I still had it for a good six years so I got a lot of practice, and even though I was never properly taught I became very good at it, creating my own style.

This one looked to have a 20 inch folded steel blade attached to a 59 inch dark wooden pole. A bronze plate wrapped around where the blade meet wood inscribed with a picturesque scene of a cherry blossom field, and at the bottom was a bronze cap.

"Hey Paris, can I have this?" I called to him, pointing at the Naginata.

"Are you crazy? No you cannot have it" he answered truly flustered by my question.

"Let me rephrase that… hey Paris I'm taking this" I turned to look at him weapon now in my hands. He seemed as if he wanted to argue, his mouth opening than closing only to repeat the process. "Is there a problem?" I asked in a sickly sweet voice.

"Apparently not" he turned back to whatever it was he was doing and I literally skipped out of the storage box.

*End of the beginning*

First chapter of my first story, what do you think? I would love to know what you think about the story, but please keep any flames to yourself. If you don't like it you don't have to read it.

*A Naginata consisted of an oval shaped wooden shaft 120 to 240 cm (3.9ft-7.8ft or 47.2in-94.4in) in length with a 30 to 60 cm (11.8-23.6in or 1-2ft) curved blade on one end and a heavy metal cap on the other.

And since it's never mentioned again I will tell you that this friend of hers was a lot older than her. I imagine him about 20 at the time.

^_^ Also if anyone desperately needs to have a visual of her outfit and eyes just let me know and I'll post them up