Eyes snapped wide open. A gasp of breath. A look of startled confusion.

Those were the three most obvious details about him as he woke up, lying down on a hard surface, encased by walls all around him and shrouded in darkness. Startled and worried, he looked around, wondering what was going on. He pounded the walls around him, frantically trying to figure out his situation. He kept at it, getting more and more worried, his motions becoming more frantic, until he hit upward. He struck something. A solid surface. It was surprising, yet welcoming. And when he hit it, it moved. It shifted. And he immediately pushed it upward.

The lid opened up, smoke rising out of it, and he sat up out of the container, panting heavily. He didn't understand what was going, trying to decipher where he was, and his eyes eventually began to gain vision as they began to wonder around his surroundings. It appeared to be some sort of storage area, only enlightened by the small lights that covered the area, and it was confirmed when there were several other containers around him. He didn't know where he was, or what this place was. All he could tell from this place was the hum he heard, a strange hum he could not place.

Eventually, he decided that he wasn't going to figure this out right now, and tried to pull himself out of the container, but then he felt a massive pain in his side. A gasp of pain escaped his mouth as he held his side, stunned at what was causing it. But the moment he looked down, it became clear what it was, much to his horror. Blood seeping through his shirt, the result of a wound that was deep in his side, and he quickly placed a hand on it in a vain attempt to cover it up. There was a gulp, and sweat starting to form on his head as slight panic came in on him.

Nothing made sense. Why was he hurt like this? Where was he? Why was he even in this position? What was going on?

All these questions kept filing through his head, but through it all, there was a prevailing instinct that shot through him: Save yourself.

And it was obvious that he decided that was the bigger concern. So he slowly pulled himself out of the container, shakily standing up as he stood on wobbly legs. The pain was excruciating, but he had to bear it. Just for a little while. Just long enough so he could live. So he held his breath, and began to limp his way towards the exit of the storage area, all while he held his side. He eventually came across the elevator, and as he leaned against the wall, he quickly pressed a few buttons which closed the doors and sent him upwards into the ship.

That led him to the upper levels, and he soon began his walk once more, which gave way to hallways, stairs, intersections, and much more. The structure of it all was starting to become more clear to him. In fact, they seemed reminiscent of the corridors ships would have. A ship. That actually seemed likely to him. Very likely. He almost wanted to beat himself up for not realizing it sooner. But he also realized this didn't really help him at all. Because he had no idea where he was going. He was just stumbling about like a drunken fool, leaving a trail of blood from the drips his wound was leaving on the ground. He kept making turns and finding just more hallways to walk. He knew this was going nowhere. And the longer it took, the worse it got.

That was very evident by the dizziness he was starting to feel. Probably the blood loss there. His hand is starting to get covered in red. So yeah, definitely, the blood loss.

He was practically starting to pull himself against the walls in order to keep himself upright. The wall ran out however, as he came across a doorway and fell down to his knees, practically trying to fight the pain at this point. He looked up at the doorway, and quickly pressed a few buttons on the door console, and the door slid open. He shifted head to look inside, and for once, a sense of relief washed over him. He could see inside the doorway was a medical room of sorts. He didn't care about the details, just that there was one. So he slowly crawled into the room, bathed in the blue light of it all, and quickly scanned the room as much as he could. He grabbed the platform for patients and pulled himself up on it, and quickly began reaching his hands out towards the storage cabinets, opening them and searching them thoroughly for anything to stop the bleeding. He refused to be picky at this point, the panic rising to an all-time high. He needed to stop the bleeding. He had to. Please.

That's when his hand grasped something. He felt it, and as fast as he possibly could, he pulled it in and looked at what he had gotten off the counter. It was a high-grade, heat spike. A cylindrical device with a spike that when activated, heated up to burning levels. And a heat spike like this had only one use in a medical room like this. He wasn't going to like this. But he had no choice. Not if he wanted to keep tasting air.

So he backed up into the platform, held the heat spike tightly, closed his eyes before turning on the spike, and he could already feel the heat coming in great waves. He took a deep breath, pulled the shirt up slightly, and quickly jammed it the spike into the wound.

It took literally biting his tongue out not to scream in pure agony.

He nearly cried tears as he felt the heat practically sear his skin, just flatout begging for him to stop. But he had to push through. He had to. Dammit, what did he do to deserve this?

Eventually, after at least ten to fifteen seconds, he pulled the heat spike away and gasped in great pain. Pants came in one after the other, the sweat on his head greater than it was before. The wound had been cauterized thanks to what he did. He wasn't sure if it would hold, but it at least kept him from dying for now. That was good enough for now. And for once, since he came out of that container, he could relax. He could simply calm down, and actually figure out what's going on.

But that's when a growl came from his stomach. A growl that called for good.

A groan escaped from his lips. He hated that he felt this right after he just saved himself for the moment, so he could try to figure things out. But the hunger was clear. He needed to eat. He needed energy. And he wasn't going to think on an empty stomach. So he fully stood up, and limped out of the room, and began to wander around once more in search for food. All while he continued to ignore the occasional hallucination of ships flying at him out of the corner of his eyes. Definitely the blood loss still.

Eventually, he managed to take the right turn, and came across the mess hall. This was going to have to be good enough for now. So he quickly began to search the room for anything that was edible. His movements were erratic, and rushed, but that was what hunger could do. Eventually, he managed to come across a bag of vatted meat in the corner of the hall. And once he got his hands on it, he quickly began to tear apart the bag and dump all the meat he could into his mouth.

He nearly hacked it out the moment it got in. The taste was awful, it was borderline disgusting. How could anyone even eat this stuff? But he reminded himself, he couldn't be picky. So he ignored his taste buds, and swallowed it. He quickly took a deep breath after that, still holding the bag which had a little bit of meat left. Now he felt a bit better. He was slightly sated in terms of hunger. Now, he needed to figure out what was going on. Because right now, he was on a ship he didn't know, with a wound he had no idea about, and he didn't know what had to led to this. He held his head, feeling like he was forgetting something important in all this. But he would figure it out later-

And that stopped when he turned around and came face to face with a man who had walked into the room with a tray.

They both stood there stunned, and for a brief moment, he had no idea what to do. All he could do was stare in front of a man who seemed to be in his 20s or 30s, with short brain hair, with the slight makings of a five o-clock shadow, with a simple black shirt and black pants. His expression was probably mirroring his own, wondering what was going on. However, eventually, one of them reacted eventually.

The one who did quickly threw several bits of vatted meat into the other's face.

It didn't do much in general, but it surprised the man just enough to allow him to run right past him and began to get the hell out of there as fast as he could. His feet carried him down the hallways as fast as they possibly could, despite the searing pain his side was now feeling from this sudden activity. It had not fully healed off the cauterization, but he had no choice. He couldn't take the chance. He knew that everything was blown. He had to get away.

"Hey! Wait!"

The man's voice was clearly heard as he looked behind, and he was being chased by him. He was reaching out a hand as he was following step for step, but that only panicked him even more and forced him to push himself faster despite the pain in his side. He heard the man say more, but he couldn't hear him. All he could feel the adrenaline in him. The fear. The worry. The self-preservation instinct as he continued to turn as many corners in an attempt to try and get back to the elevator to the storage area.

But eventually, he was moving so fast that he actually tripped up and stumbled down as he turned a corner.

That's what saved him though. Because a blade went right through the air where his head would've been.

He rolled under the swung blade, partly from his own feet losing their ground, and quickly rolled across the ground before getting to his feet. He quickly looked behind him, and found an Asian man wielding the blade, wearing the same clothes as the first man, but with a shaved head a small goatee. His expression was hardened, focused, and disciplined, and it was trained on him. And that was enough to make him just run even more. Run, run, run, as fast as he possibly can.

He could feel the man with the blade chase after him, and that the first man had already joined him in the pursuit. He was in trouble. Massive trouble. He couldn't let them catch him. He couldn't. He didn't want to find out what would happen. He didn't even turn around. If he did, he felt that blade may be reaching his body sooner than later. But as he began to run down the hallway as fast as he could, that was when he realized he still had the heat spike from earlier. Probably holding onto it in an absent manner.

He was thankful for that now as he made sure to keep running for a bit more, until he made sure to pass under an arch in the hallway. And he glanced behind him, seeing the panel on the wall next to the arch, and with a quick press of the button, he turned on the heat spike. Relying on instinct he didn't know he had, he threw the heat spike towards the console. It struck into the console, the intense of the spike burying into the console and shorting it out. That allowed the blast door to suddenly come down just as the two men were about to cross the arch, blocking the path.

A brief thought crossed his mind that they were likely going to be pissed he caused that. But it was only for a brief moment as he just kept on running, nearly stumbling over himself from having to turn so sharply. The pain in his wounded side was growing more and more from every step he had to take, the energy he had to exert. But he kept moving. It wasn't safe here anymore. Whatever this ship was. He was known. And he didn't want a blade to the gut.

He quickly found himself back at the elevator lift once more and quickly slammed into it with a thud, not stopping himself. He gritted his teeth, not caring about his pain as he quickly went over to the screen and pressed a button that would sent him back down to the level he came from. It would only take a few seconds.

"Oh come on, I'm trying to get some shut-eye, you people!"

He stiffened as he heard that gruff voice, and he turned his head as yet another man came out from a corner, wearing a light blue shirt, black pants, and a brown vest, with his short brown, goatee, and scar next to his eye all standing out. And he looked irritated to say the least as he stepped into his sight, looking around for the cause.

"I mean, seriously, do you need to shout and cause all that damn noise?! Not all of us are-"

The man stopped when he turned around and saw him. He stiffened in shock. And fear. He knew that he knew he wasn't supposed to be here. And as the man looked at him in surprise, the doors of the elevator began to close.

They weren't closing fast enough.

Almost instantly, he pulled out a gun from his holster, aimed right at him, and opened fire with as cold an expression as you can have. And at that exact moment, he quickly dropped down to try and avoid the bullets aimed at his head.

And he somehow did. If only by being a split second faster.

The bullets whizzed over his head as he landed on the ground, crashing into the wall behind him as sparks flew. The man advanced firing repeatedly to try and strike him, but he didn't manage to fire into the elevator long enough as the doors closed just in time. He heard a few more bullets strike the doors before stopping and he then looked up at the tiny windows of the door. And he was greeted with the angry, almost cursing face of the man that just tried to kill him. Just before it disappeared as the elevator began to go down.

He panted heavily, now having avoided three near-death situations in the span of a few minutes. Was he hyperventilating? He wasn't sure, but he felt that may be likely. He knew for sure he was losing his mind over all this. Fear and panic were definitely at the forefront of everything. And pain. Pain was getting up there as well.

Seething at the sudden feeling of that familiar pain, he slowly rolled over onto his back and looked down at his side. The wound had reopened. All that running and moving had forced it back open despite the cauterization.

He cursed everything at that moment in his head. Why was this happening to him? What did he do to deserve this? Why was he even here? Why?

All those questions kept racing through his head as he laid on the ground, but they stopped the moment the doors opened once more, indicating he was back in the lower level storage areas. Self-preservation kicked back in as he knew that all had to wait. He needed to get back up, and survive. Somehow.

And that's what he did. Stand back up, holding onto his bleeding side and began to limp back towards where he came from. He managed to make it as far as the container he came out of, placing a hand on the edge of it as dizziness began to hit him once more. He was finding it a hard time to just stay standing at this point. He had lost too much blood, the wound being reopened made it worse. And he didn't know where else to go. They were sure to come down and find him. And then do who knows what to him. And that scared every part of him to his core.

As he tried to figure out what to do, that's when he finally noticed something. Something he didn't before because of all the confusion and pain he went through. He looked up, and saw a door. A massive metal door that had taken over half of a wall at the end of the storage room. Next to it, there was a console with a keyboard next to it, to allow the commands to be put in.

But most importantly, the giant metal doors were slightly opened up.

He stared at the opening of the door for a few brief seconds, the wheels turning into his head. Then, he got a feeling in his head. Almost as if it knew something he didn't. Something that pulled his head down towards the container, and down towards the inside of the lid to it. And what he saw was a crude, circular yellow device that was attached to lid. It seemed somewhat put together by scraps, and had a dingy tint to its yellow collar, but the center of it has a yellow light emanating from it, and he noticed a slight spike under it which was sticking into the lid, and wires were connected all over it in some strange sort of harmony. Staring down at this strange device, he reached down and pulled it off the lid, and observed it in his hand. He turned it over, making sure to look all over it, and he just kept staring at it. As if there was something about this device that had him...thinking.

There really was no other word to describe it but thinking. Thinking. And thinking. And thinking. Almost at astronomical pace-

His thought process was interrupted when he heard sounds coming from outside the room, coming towards him. Panic once again took over. He knew exactly who that was. And there was no time to waste anymore. Not if he wanted to live.

So as fast as he could, he went over to the console and quickly began pressing buttons as if to inset commands. His fingers practically moved over the keys like fluid water. As if this was nothing to him. And soon enough, he found the command to close the door and entered it. He didn't know how he did it that fast. Nor did he care. Not right now.

From there, as the door began to close its slight crack, he managed to run in and slide through it to get into the room. And the moment he looked back, he saw the group of people come into view through the dwindling crack. And they saw him. Even if it was just a tiny sight, they knew they saw him on the other side.

But that was all they got. For the doors closed immediately after. And then for some reason, he quickly slammed the device onto the doors as fast as he could. And from there, he saw it suddenly attached itself like sticky into the door, and blue electricity suddenly shot out of from all sides and throughout the entire door, covering it entirely. And then he suddenly massive locking motions and he could've sworn the door suddenly shut even tighter if that was possible. And then, nothing. Nothing as it looked as it did before. Minus the device stuck to it.

He stared at the entire door for a few seconds, trying to make sense of what just happened. Hell, trying to make sense why he just slammed that device into the door like he did. He didn't know what it did. Did he? He didn't know anything at this point. He really doesn't. And he found that he didn't have the energy to invest into it anymore as he slowly backed up a bit before falling down against what he felt was a crate of sorts, sitting against it as he felt very weak all of a sudden.

Gasping, he looked down to his still bleeding side and that side of his shirt was completely stained with blood at this point. All of this activity was making it worse, and he could feel the lack of blood getting to him. He couldn't even muster the energy to even try and figure what kind of room he was in now. He had nothing left. He was defenseless. At the mercy of the people of this ship.

Which is why when he looked up, and waited for a few seconds, no one came through it. The door didn't open at all. It just stayed like it was. He could hear voices though. That's for sure. Maybe some yelling too. And he thought he heard a banging on the door. Could they not open the door? Was that what that device was for? Making sure that door stay locked from his side? Is that what it did?

Either way, he knew that he was safe for now. But, it didn't matter, did it? He was stuck inside this room. He could at least tell there was no other entrances. The door held people that wanted to kill him on the other side if he opened it up. And if he didn't open it, he knew he was going to bleed out slowly but surely, and die in this room.

So he was screwed either way. Damned if you do, damned if you don't.

He hung his head, his eyes closed, gasps breaking from his mouth in repeated manners at this point. Silent sobs soon followed, as tears began to well up in his eyes. Was this how he was going to die? Like this? On a ship he doesn't know, with a wound he had for some reason, in a manner like this? It wasn't fair. It wasn't. He didn't deserve this. He was scared. So damn scared. He didn't understand. He just didn't. Why? He kept asking this over and over. Why? Why him? Why this?

Just...why?

The tears were about to fall as he continued to sob, the reality of his situation threatening to swallow him. He knew this was the end for him. But then...

"Hello? Are you there?"

A voice struck through the air, with a raised tone, grabbing his attention. No doubt trying to be loud enough to be heard from behind the massive door.

And it was a nice voice. A nice voice that actually calmed him actually. He liked it actually.

"Can you hear me? Please, I need you to answer me!"

It was a voice that definitely sounded female, though not truly mature sound. It was young in how it sounded. It also sounded a bit panicked at the end. But not because of anything happening to her.

Was she, whoever she was, actually worried about him?

Whatever the case was, he just sat there, silently. Letting the voice soothe him. At this point, it was the one comfort he had. Because it was like music to his ears at this point.

"Um... Look...I don't know what's going on, I really don't. But we know you're hurt! And hurt badly, from the looks of it."

Was it that obvious? There was an absent look of understanding on his face. Considering the blood he was bleeding, figures he may leave some drips on the floor. He wasn't surprised. He couldn't be surprised at anything, considering how close he was to passing out.

"And I don't know how you got on here. And from what I've been told, I know you're scared. It must be frightening to go through all this."

Gee, you think? He thought that part very sarcastically to himself. Sitting down here in a room, locked inside as he bled to death? Yeah, that was bound to scare him indeed.

"But I promise you, whoever you are. We're not going to hurt you."

Not hurt him? How was that possible? He had two near-death experiences that begged otherwise.

"And I bet you're thinking about what some of the others nearly did to you. But you have to understand, you just showed up on our ship out of nowhere. They don't know who you are. You could be an enemy for all they knew."

...That was true. He certainly showed up in a way not many people expected. Still...

"Besides...I don't think you're an enemy. Not really."

...Really?

"I think you're just as confused as the rest of us are, maybe even more so. You didn't try to fight us. Or take over the ship. Or even us kill in our sleep when you had the chance. You just ran...ran as far as you could...because you're scared...aren't you?"

...Terribly so. More than one could imagine. He wanted to live. So damn much. But that was looking like it wasn't going to happen. And that frightened him.

"...I know you are. That's the only reason anyone would run like you did. And that's why I want to help. It doesn't have to be this way. It...it really doesn't."

He just contemplated those words deeply. It didn't?

"I know you may not trust us, but...I promise you, if you stop whatever's keeping that vault closed, and open it up back up, then nothing's gonna happen to you. We can help you figure out what's going on. And we can find out all the same. It doesn't have to end with you dying. It never did."

He looked down at the ground off that, taking it in. He didn't know anything about this situation, but that idea...the way she presented it...how she made it sound...

"I know you want to live. I want you to. I don't want anyone to die here. So please...just open the door. And let us help you. Can you at least do that?"

Silence filled the room off that, as she stopped talking off that. No doubt she was waiting for an answer. Probably hoping it was the one she wanted to hear. He just sat there, holding his bleeding wound to try and stop the wound. The dizziness was getting more prevalent. His sight was getting hazy. His breaths were getting quicker and shallower. He just sat there in silence for almost a minute.

Then, he slowly pulled himself up to his feet, using the crate as leverage to help him stand. It was painful, and he barely had anything left. But he pressed on. And then he limped towards the door, ignoring the pain and the lack of concentration on his part. He then reached out towards the device, grabbed it, and yanked it off the door before dropping it off the ground.

He could barely make out the flash of blue electricity and the sounds of the doors unlocking. He barely had enough strength for that, so he just focused on the door opening slightly as it was before. Enough so that he stumbled a few steps forward and leaned against the door as panted heavily, still bleeding, and eventually looked at who was on the opposite side.

It was a girl like he thought. Young. Probably 16 years old. But the girl wore a black shirt with pink flower designs all over it, a green sleeveless jacket over it, dark blue tight jeans over her, and she had wavy green hair that reached down to her neck. She looked at him, and he could see the look of relief on her face as she smiled, silently glad he did this.

It was a nice expression, he felt. He sort of wanted to see more of it on a face like that.

"...Thank you. I promise, you're going to be fine. But...just who are you?"

He clicked his tongue at those words, and was about to open his mouth to answer the question.

But that's when he stopped. Why?

Because that was the first time since he came out of that container that he thought about that. About who he was. And for at least five seconds, he thought about that question.

After those five seconds, he looked up at the girl, and for the first time since he came out of that container, spoke up, saying...

"...I don't know who I am."

And that was when he collapsed to the ground, the blood loss finally getting to him and forcing him into unconsciousness. But as he fell to the darkness, he managed to catch one phrase from it all. And when he would reflect on it in hindsight, it certainly summed up the whole situation.

"Ah shit."

A/N: So I've just recently got into Dark Matter. Only to find out it's cancelled after Season 3. On such a massive cliffhanger. Why is it that I always go through stuff like this? Such a shame that a show like that got cancelled, but it was worth getting into. And I hope we see the conclusion. But as always, life goes on. And with loving such a great series, I've decided to try my hand at a Dark Matter fanfiction, especially since there's not that many.

This is the prologue to the story I had, and I don't know if the beginning of this is anything original or what not. But I have many ideas for this that will make it so. Just need to piece them together. At the least, I'm doing this to at least get a start, and see if I can continue it later on. For the record, the beginning of this takes place during Season 1, but it won't go through just that season. I hope to have many twists and turns at some points, and be original enough here while keeping faith to the theme of Dark Matter, and not compromise its story.

I hope you enjoy the read, and leave reviews, and some ideas. They are all appreciated, and will help improve my writing as I hope to make this work. Until next time.