Chapter One

Disclaimer: not mine.. you can tell cause they're not wearin collars.. i'd have'em wearin collars and my name would be tattooed on their ass's!!
Clears throat* anywho.. this has been sittin around gathering dust for a while.. should i continue.. should i just give up and go hide under a rock? Xander/Riddick is a fav pairing of mine .. not my top fav that would be Riddick/Me lol but xander gets up there reeeeeeal close.. .. and if you don't like slash.. well what the heck are you reading my stuff for anyway !! Okay what else needs to be put here.. ?? I don't know anywho let me know what you think.. i have about three more chapters finished but that is about all.. updates are going to be slow cause momma hit me in the head as a child.. no not really silly me .. that was daddy.. okay so i'm lying.. damn you people always wanting honesty.. sigh.. i have no one to blame but myself i get distracted from writing cause of the pretty things like Dean Winchesters belly button and Riddick's .. anything.. lol.. so i'll be shutting up now.. let me know if you like it..


CHRONICLES OF X


Prologue
Some Time in the Future



He’d been tired of it all. Humanity at it's worst was all he had ever seen. Sometimes he’d felt as if that was all there was. What he’d needed was a change. When the first planets opened up for free settlers he’d signed on. The Council paid for the whole thing. Retirement. He had been fighting the good fight for more years than anyone on this new council had known about the fight. And he was still young. Barely even forty. His eye had been magicked back deep in the Congo by some hoo-doo holy man, but the scar across his face remained. He’d been a wreck, a liability. A reminder of times they all wanted to forget.

Few slayers had remained. The influx of Warriors for the Light had heralded a huge insurgence in demons. The balance, it was always about the fucking balance. How could they ever win the war if at the end of the day the PTB’s always balanced the board back out?

He was the last of the old gang. The original Hellmouth kid. Everyone else had already been killed. Hunted down one by one by one side or the other. Willow had been taken down by a balance demon. She’d had too much power neither side could hold her for long.

Buffy had died like she had lived. Fighting every step of the way. Or so he had heard. He had been in Tibet living with a group of monks that supposedly had a scroll that could end the world if read out loud. By the time he had gotten back to civilization Giles had been found dead. Died in his sleep they said. An unusual way for a Watcher to go but painless. After Buffy had died he had just stopped living it just took a few weeks for his body to catch up with him.

So here Xander was, floating around in space. By all rights he should be dead, or at the very least asleep. There was a part of him that slept, but mostly he was awake. Had been awake for longer that he cared to count. Hundreds of years at the least. Cryo-sleep. His predator side, the side that let him live when everyone else died around him was aware. He had been aware when the ship had been rocked by an explosion, had been aware as the bulkhead had fallen across his cryo-chamber and trapped him inside. His body needed nothing but small bits of oxygen to survive with the cryo-fluid running through his veins. Luckily the ship had sustained little damage to its computers and had re-routed all available oxygen from the dead chambers to his.

The small screen inside his chamber didn’t give him much information but it had told him when the distress beacon had been activated. When the other hundred and ninety nine passengers had died. When the crew had died. And now it seemed it was telling him he was about to die. Less than a month left in the oxygen stores. He couldn’t really say he was sorry, that he wasn’t looking forward to death. Finally release. A slow death hundreds of years in the making. The only thing that had kept him as sane as he was, which wasn’t very at this point was the voices in his head.

The slow deterioration into madness, into his own mind. His only defense had been the fact that he was the original Hellmouth kid. And Willow, his sweet Willow had tried to give him all the advantages she could. After things started going sour. When they had realized the consequences of the Slayer spell she had worked. Before venturing into Africa the first time she had wanted him to have an edge. She had taken him to the side, away from a still mourning Buffy and Dawn and asked him what he wanted. And finally, after seven years he got his Thing.

She had tried to bring back the old hyena spirit. The spell had unexpected results. It had brought up every possession, every other-worldly thing that had happened to him in the past few years and put him through hell for nearly a month. Giles had finally sorted him out. Willow had the power but not the finesse to work delicate snarls of magic that had been cast on him.

Hyena, Soldier, Mer-man, Vampire, Wraith. He had been touched by all these things. They had all tainted his soul. Primal, Halloween, Swim Team, Dracula, and finally Buffy’s resurrection. They all had a piece of him, or he had a piece of them. And they had all been brought forth with Willow’s spell. Giles and Angel, the only ones who ever saw him as something more had called up the White Knight. The thing inside him that Calab had called the One who Sees.

Seven years in Africa would have changed anyone. But when he had walked out of the jungle he had no longer been Xander Harris. The natives had given him a different name. They called him Ghost. He could blend with the shadow, see in the dark, kill like a beast and nothing ever scared him. He was a man without fear. His humanity had been stripped down to the bare minimum required to still fit the bill. All he’d had was the fight.

In Tibet he had begun to get a small measure of himself back only to find his entire family gone when he had gotten back. It was over for him then. He had stayed with Angel, who by then was back in the Hyperion, contacted the council and booked passage with the Company to planets unknown.

He knew he was more killing machine than anything else now. He had relived his life thousands of times, playing each decision over and over choosing differently each time. Kill his parents while he was young and look at how his life would be different. Kill Buffy when she first showed up, it would have been so easy, with her belief that having a soul made you somehow above doing evil. Like the prisons were over run with good but misunderstood people. Hitler, Stalin, Dahmer, Gacey. Misunderstood. He snorted at the thought. Evil was evil. Soul or no soul. He had killed many men and a few women in his walkabout on the Dark Continent. Most had deserved it. But deep down he know that some had not. They had just gotten in his way when he hadn’t felt like being around people.

His soul was dark. As dark as the space he now floated in. The cold void of space that would be his final resting place if things didn’t change soon. He let his mind drift back to the beginning again. It was the only way he could keep who he was fresh in his mind.

Remember. Always remember who and what he was. Why he was. What he had done, that way when he finally faced his maker he would know exactly why he was going to burn for eternity after being cold for so long.


tbc...