- True passengers / Chapter 1: Fuck it!
- True passengers / Chapter 2: I come to…
- True passengers / Chapter 3: Gradually…
- True passengers / Chapter 4: There is one thing
- True passengers / Chapter 5: Three days
- True passengers / Chapter 6: I wake up
- True passengers / Chapter 7: Let’s think
- True passengers / Chapter 8: I finally finish
- True passengers / Chapter 9: 2841 words
- True passengers / Chapter 10: Day 11
- True passengers / Chapter 11: Day 13
- True passengers / Chapter 12: Day 17
- True passengers / Chapter 13: Day 19
- True passengers / Chapter 14: Day 23
- True passengers / Chapter 15: Day 29
- True passengers / Chapter 16: Day 31
- True passengers / Chapter 17: Day 37
- True passengers / Chapter 18: Day 41
- True passengers / Chapter 19: Day 43
- True passengers / Chapter 20: Day 47
- True passengers / Chapter 21: Day 53
- True passengers / Chapter 22: Day 67
- True passengers / Chapter 23: Day 71
- True passengers / Chapter 24: Day 101
- True passengers / Chapter 25: Day 137
- True passengers / Chapter 26: Day 163
- True passengers / Chapter 27: Day 181
- True passengers / Chapter 28: Day 199
- True passengers / Chapter 29: Day 211
- True passengers / Chapter 30: Day 239
- True passengers / Chapter 31: Day 241
- True passengers / Chapter 32: Day 257
- True passengers / Chapter 33: Day 293
- True passengers / Chapter 34: Day 491
- True passengers / Chapter 35: Day 509
- True passengers / Chapter 36: Day 569
- True passengers / Chapter 37: Day 571
- True passengers / Chapter 38: I couldn’t bring myself
- True passengers / Chapter 39: When she comes to
- True passengers / Chapter 40: Day 577
- True passengers / Chapter 41: Day 593
- True passengers / Chapter 42: Day 599
- True passengers / Chapter 43: Day 601
- True passengers / Chapter 44: Like two clumsy helium-filled condoms
- True passengers / Chapter 45: Bitch!
Day 593. My Friday has finally gotten used to me. She doesn’t try to attack me, but she’s less afraid of me too. She spends the whole day doing small household chores, such as scrubbing blood off the floor and walls of the capsule, taping up loose sheets of insulation, collecting trash, and organizing things. Perhaps it’s in women’s blood. She tries to help me when I pull another body out of the cryocapsule. She joins me for meals and watching movies, and hardly resists when I decide to fuck her in the evening. True, she still crawls away to sleep on her rags.
Strangely, in all this time, she has never once tried to talk to me. Maybe it’s the result of psychological trauma? Or an unsuccessful cryogenic awakening? Or did I hit her too hard on the head back then? She may even be deaf and mute. Why not? After the morons on Earth shoved a couple of faggots into the ship, nothing surprises me anymore. An invalid person in space — how tolerant. However, she has every reason to think the same about me, because I’m not very talkative either. Maybe I’ve already forgotten how to talk.







