The Corsair: Whovian Fan Fiction

The Corsair: Whovian-Zombie Fan Fiction, American-Gangnam style

Chapter One. Episode One. Zombies – oh my!

by Stan Faryna

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AC DC, Highway to Hell

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“I want to do something amazing,” blurted Stacie as she shifted in the red leather arm chair and tugged on a lock of brown hair at the back of her head.

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AC DC’s song, Highway to Hell, played in the background.

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Stacie wore jeans, a white tee shirt, a pirate’s frock coat, and a Doctor Who scarf around her waist – like a sash. On the front of the tee shirt was a picture of Captain Picard’s face and there was text, There are FOUR LIGHTS!

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“You do amazing things.”

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“More amazing, mon Ange!”

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“My heart is empty,” Stacie explained. “I want to do more! I need to serve….”

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“Winnie-the-Pooh once said that sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart,” replied Az. 

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Stacie’s newly hired personal assistant was confused. Gray had just entered the room and found Stacie Rohr in the midst of a conversation. But no none else was in the room.

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“Who are you talking to?” Gray asked.

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“Az. Azrael,” she replied.

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Gray looked into her sparkling eyes.

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“On the phone?”

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“I’m sorry if I interrupted you,” Gray apologized. “I can come back.”

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“No-no. It’s fine. I’m not on the phone,” Stacie replied as she stretched and stood up.

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She’s so amazingly hot, Gray thought to himself. But a little strange…

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She went over to the table in the center of the room, picked up a peach and inhaled it’s sweet peachiness. Then she took a bite and tossed it to Gray.

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Gray was confused but he caught the peach.

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“Az? Azrael?”

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Stacie picked up a folder of photographs of herself. She looked at a photograph of her standing before the Gallifreyan High Council.

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Photography (C) Photeus  Model: The Corsair

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“I like this photograph. Getting a pardon is always fun,” Stacie said out loud to herself.

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Meanwhile, a male voice answered Gray.

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“Yes?”

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Her back turned to Gray, Stacie seemed to be laughing at his confused expression.

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“What!” blurted Gray.

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He didn’t like peaches, but he didn’t want to reject a potential invitation. He took a bite and swallowed with reluctance. Then he set it on an empty plate on a side table.

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“Azrael is my guardian angel,” Stacie explained as she looked over her shoulder; her hazel eyes sparkled with mischief.

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“Where’s he hiding?”

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“He’s not really hiding. He’s in the offing – he’s on a transdimensional tack,” Stacie added.

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Gray had no idea what Stacie was talking about.

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What is an offing? What’s a transdimensional tack? He wondered.

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“What the frell are you talking about!?”

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“Azrael is a TARDIS. TARDIS stands for Time and Relative Dimension in Space. He’s a dimensionally transcendent entity that can travel in time and space.”

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“Are you pulling my leg?” Gray asked with suspicion. He didn’t know whether to smile or back out of the room.

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“An offing is the deep water off a shore where a ship can be safely moored,” Az explained. “It’s also the near future. A tack is a nautical maneuver in which a ship is turned to an alignment with the wind,” explained the disembodied male voice.

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“Who’s talking?!” Gray demanded.

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Luminescent lines became visible above the table in the center of the room. A holographic image of screens, buttons, and strange shapes appeared on the table. On one screen, the image of two frogs on a bench gave way to a picture of the Hanged Man Tarot card and then a crow. On another, the face of a playing card – a queen of two hearts. It faded out to an image of a snake swallowing its tail and then, The Tarot card for the Wheel of Fortune. A ghost like-face appeared on a third holographic screen.

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“It’s true,” said Az as the mouth of the ghost-like face moved to the words.

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“I’m a TARDIS.”

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Gray paused to wonder if it was something he ate or drank that was causing this hallucination. He hadn’t ate anything and he was a little hungry. But he did suck down a bottle of water.

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Was there something in the water? Gray asked himself.

“Is Elvis talking to you? Is he telling you to do things? Do you see spots?” asked Az.

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Stacie laughed again as a quick, chirpy R2-D2 ring tone sounded.

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“Just look out the window…” Stacie told Gray as she walked toward him and led him to the window. Then she drew back the curtains.

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Gray looked out the window and the yard and house across the street had been replaced by… outer space. Below, the blue planet called Earth glowed in the darkness of space. The stars shone brighter than Gray had ever seen.

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“I’m not OK with this,” Gray said with stoild caution.

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“You know where the door is.”

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Stacie laughed again.

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Gray turned, went down the steps and opened the front door to the emptiness of space. He stopped cold. He was filled with awe. And terror.

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Is this a hallucination? Gray asked himself.

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“Sometimes, a cigar is just a cigar,” Az replied.

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Gray yelled out in reply to Az.

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“OH NO… You are not reading my mind!”

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Then Gray imagined a red brick wall around his thoughts.

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“That’s the best you can do?” asked Az.

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He ignored Az and imagined razor wire on top of his red brick wall.

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Az laughed.

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“How about sharks with eyes that shoot laser beams?” asked Az.

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“PEW! PEW!”

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Stacie roared in laughter at Az’s vocal impression of laser beams. But Gray pretended to ignore Az – he wasn’t going to have a conversation with Stacie’s imaginary, telepathic friend.

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“If Az is a Tardis, who and what are you?” Gray shouted up to the landing.

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“It’s complicated,” Stacie said as she approached the landing’s railing and leaned on it.

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Gray complained.

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“Tell me about it!”

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“My people called me The Corsair,” Stacie started to explain.

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“I’ve had many names. Some nice, some not so nice, but others were very cool. Fabulous, in fact!

“Among the Lakota people, I am Wakį́yą. Thunderbird.

In the fourteenth century, the Spanish knew me as The Dread Pirate Roberta (Roberta Baal) – I liked that name a lot.”

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I had a lot of fun in those days, but not as much fun as I had during the Revolutionary War with Ben. Az played his role as the Black Prince – perfectly!”

In the twelfth century, I ran around painted in blue wode, and the hindus knew me as Kali.

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“Ben?! Ben who?”

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“Benjamin Franklin, silly! Who else? You didn’t know that he was a pirate too?”

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Gray furled his brow. He didn’t remember that footnote from his American history class.

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Stacie paused, looked down at Gray, and began again.

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“The thing is… I’m an illegal alien.”

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She tossed down her calling card to Gray . He caught and examined it.

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It looked like a Queen of Hearts face card. It smelled like Bulgarian roses. In the center of the card was her name and the text:

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Illegal Alien. Genius. Two hearts.

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Gray looked back up at Stacie standing above him.

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“Are you serious?!”

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Stacie winked and answered him.

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“Seriously! I’m from the planet Gallifrey…”

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“This is a whole lot of crazy,” Gray exclaimed. Then he took a deep breath.

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“Time and space travel wasn’t in the job description,” Gray stated firmly as he closed the door.

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“The salary that we negotiated doesn’t adequately compensate for the stress…”

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“How about a big hug?” Stacie replied from above.

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Gray’s suddenly eyes lit up and he grinned.

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This might work out for me, he thought to himself.

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“How about we double my hourly rate and make me full time?” Gray proposed. “I could use some Obamacare.”

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“Nice try but you (and we) know where the door is, bebe…”

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Gray heard another R2-D2 ring tone. This was different. It sounded like R2 just blew a circuit.

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He didn’t know it but they had just moved in time and space.

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Gray opened the door again. A hunched human form staggered in the darkness. Slowly, it turned to Gray and exhaled like it was giving its last breath.

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“Fresh meat. Finger-licking good…” Stacie said loudly.

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Was she talking to that staggering form? 

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Gray wondered. Then he took a hard look at the thing, shredded clothes, and he recognized what it was.

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“What the frell! Is that a walker? Is that a ZOMBIE?!”

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Gray slammed the door shut.

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“So you’re staying…”

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Stacie said it off hand as she turned and went back to her arm chair. Seated, she picked up her laptop and logged into the Marvel Avengers Alliance (MAA) game.

The zombie thudded against the door. Gray turned the lock on the door. He could hear the labored breathing of the zombie on the other side of the door.

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“I’m getting slaughtered in PVP!” Stacie shouted out in frustration. At no one in particular.

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“Um, there’s a zombie on the other side of the door…”

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“Where’s Sam and Dean Winchester when you need them,” teased Az.

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“Gank it!” Stacie yelled from her chair.

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“Gank!?” Gray asked out loud.

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“Kill it. Kill it dead,” Az replied.

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“FUCK that!”

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“Don’t be a wuss,” Az snapped at Gray.

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“There’s a machette inside the umbrella vase,” Stacie shouted to Gray.

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He pushed the umbrella’s aside and found the machette. It had a hand guard and an almost foot long, broad, black blade. He held it in his shaking hand.

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“Killing ZOMBIES wasn’t in the job description either.”

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“Whining wasn’t in the job description,” Az blurted. “I KNOW. Because I wrote the job description.”

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Stacie pulled out a credit card and entered the numbers to buy 500 gold – game coin. She needed to beef up her PVP armory bonuses. She had lost 10 fights while she was offline. Wolverine just wasn’t OP (Over Powered). Maybe, he needed a group attack. Or a doubled healing factor. Playdom could have made him OP – at least until issue one of the new Wolverine comic book was on the shelf.

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When Stacie was done buying gold for her game, she got up, dropped her laptop on the table in disgust at her PVP ranking and MAA’s PVP play in general, came over to the landing’s railing and glared down at Gray.

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“I add a little excitement and spice to your life, and all you do is complain. Where is your adventurous spirit, your imagination? Think of the possibilities!

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“MAN UP, open that door and gank that zombie!” Az added.

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Gray looked down at his shoes as he unlocked the door. As he opened the door, the zombie pushed in and the door flew wide open. The zombie’s hands stretched out to him.

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Gray recognized the face of his younger sister. But she was older. Maybe, ten years older.

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“WTF!?”

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“Bring the machette down on it’s forehead,” Stacie instructed Gray.

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He dropped the machette and it clanged on the marble mosaic floor. Gray’s zombie-sister grabbed his shirt with both hands and pressed her open mouth towards his face as he stood there in shock.

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Crunch!

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Stacie had leapt over the railing and brought a black tomahawk down on the top of his sister’s skull. The blade sunk in and florescing green-yellow blood and bits of blue-black brain sprayed across Gray’s face.

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Both Gray and his sister slumped to the floor. Next, Stacie rolled Gray’s inanimate sister off of him and dragged the corpse (face down) out the door. She returned and gently closed the door.

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Gray muttered as tears ran down his cheeks.

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My sister was a zombie. My sister is dead. How the fuck did that happen?!

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“I don’t understand. That was my sister. Or it looked like my sister. I don’t know…”

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“That was her – your sister,” Stacie replied with sympathy.

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She offered Gray a hand up. Instead, he curled up in a ball and hugged himself. Kneeling beside him, she put her hand on his head.

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“He’s gonna pop,” Az warned.

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Stacie whispered to Gray.

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“Getting a glimpse of the future and a chance to stop it from happening…

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That comes with a price tag. It’ll cost you everything you thought you were and everything you thought you wanted.”

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Taking a sonic screwdriver out of her pocket, she held the silver wand in front of his face.

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“Or I can erase your memory and you can forget everything that happened today.”

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“Take the blue pill, kid.”

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Gray leaned over and puked up a bit of peach, water and bile.

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“That’s what free will and freedom is all about. You either make your destiny or it happens to you – for better or worse.”

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Stan Faryna

01 March, 2013

Fairfax, Virginia