Well, here it is: first chapter of my second fic. In case you read my first one: this is NOT a sequel. This story takes place after the movie. Sorry if the first few chapters are a little clunky. As always, tell me what you think! I love to hear from you, no matter what you have to say! (although, I'd prefer you didn't send me, like… death threats or anything like that. Y'know. Telling me you're gonna burn my house down or something is probably not the best motivator for updates.) *cough cough* anyway! Please do review and let me know!
Warning: This is gonna be slash, in case you hadn't guessed!
Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own District 9. The film would've ended a liiittle bit differently if I did. Basically it would've turned into xeno porn. The scene with Koobus getting ripped apart would still be there, though!! ^.^
Onward, into the abyss!
Today was the day.
Wikus crouched among the refuse, flies clinging to his hard exoskeleton, and looked up at the sky.
Today.
The other prawns milled about District 10, unaware of the importance of the date, what it would mean to them if they only understood.
Today was the day that Christopher was coming back.
It had been three years exactly, today. He had to come back today. He would. Wikus knew he would keep his promise. He would wait here, outside his small, squalid tent, until the dark form of the mothership broke the clouds and came to take them. To save him. Not cure him; he wasn't so sure he really wanted the cure anymore. The thought of being human again was only depressing to him now.
A guard wandered by, one of MNU's toy soldiers, and shot Wikus a dirty look but didn't strike him. There were too many prawns in District 10 for the humans to safely persecute them as they once did. When they were in the mood for blood, the guards had to get a truck and at least a dozen armed men to ensure they wouldn't be torn apart by a mob of angry prawns defending the intended victim.
Wikus barely noticed the human, eyes glued to the ceiling of clouds above.
Today.
He settled himself onto the ground and waited.
/*/*/*/
The day passed slowly.
Then another day without a sign.
Then a week.
By the end of the month, Wikus had stopped eating. He stayed inside his tent, trying to block the outside world from his life. Trying not to think the thoughts his treacherous mind supplied.
So he got out of here as fast as he could and didn't look back. He just left his people here to rot, and me along with them. He argued hopelessly against himself.
No, it's not true. He didn't. He wouldn't just abandon them. Abandon me. It's not…
He huddled in the corner and sank into depression.
/*/*/*/
Pain pain pain there was so much pain, his world was a screaming tunnel of agony as they cut him open, poked and prodded their sharp tools into his flesh and tore him apart from the inside out, their faces distorted by surgical masks. He searched their eyes desperately, looking for some glint of sympathy or pity and finding none. He tried to twist his way free of the bonds, but the steel cuffs held him to the table, immobile as a mountain and why why wouldn't they listen to his cries, why would none of them even look at him as they sliced his skin away, peeled him raw and trembling and bloody. He tried again to choke out words, to beg them to let him go, to explain that he had not come to invade or to harm anyone, he only wanted to find Wikus, he only wanted to help, but they ignored him and stabbed deeper into his ruined body. Soon his mind was so consumed by the fire of excruciating hurt that he fell into blissful darkness. His last thought was one of panic and worry: he had to find Wikus, he had to help, he'd promised and he had to tell him, had to ask him --
Short chapter is short; sorry. More soon!