Star Wars: Ian the Ill-Fated

Ian was unlucky or at least he thought he was. He didn't have the type of jinxed fate that caused him to always lose at gambling, hadn't caught any strange illnesses or rare diseases and birds didn't have the overwhelming desire to crap on him; as they did to some. Instead, in his twenty or so years of life, not a month had gone by without him getting into some sort of life-threatening altercation.

It could be anything really, a simple trip to the shops could often leave him having to fight it out with a knife-wielding maniac. Just by walking to school, he had caught the eye of a serial killer or two, and as a child, he had been kidnapped so often his parents became almost indifferent to the regular ransom letters they received.

This would have sent most people insane, or more than likely killed them off at a young age, but somehow Ian managed to stay sound of mind and body... relatively speaking.

As someone often beset by misfortune, Ian had grown skilled in dealing with or at the very least, escaping it. After all, how many knife fights do you have to be in before you decide to pick up Krav Maga, how many serial killers have to stalk you before you become a generally cautious (paranoid even) person and how many times do you need to be kidnapped before you become a verifiable Houdini at escaping dangerous situations.

As you could imagine, Ian was a regular at the local police station, so were his parents for that matter, and after he and his family were cleared of the suspicion of having criminal connections, he became a sort of mascot at the station. The officers were like an extended family to Ian; his army of uncles and aunts that doted on him fervently.

Naturally growing up in that environment had an effect on Ian and with his talent at attracting the worst types of people and his experience at dealing with them, he decided to become a cop.

It didn't take long for him to complete his training and being the trouble magnet he was, he became somewhat of a local celebrity.

He was often a headliner in the news, and the newspapers he featured in were always titled something akin to: Hero officer saves schoolchildren from a violent predator, He does it again; Cop stops a terrorist attack, Killer caught by 'that' officer.

It was on the way to a television interview, something the higher-ups had pushed him into, that he met with the most ill-fated moment in his life.

He could handle men with knives, kidnappers, killers and crooks, but when a bloody bolt of lightning strikes you down what the hell are you supposed to do? Ian survived, albeit briefly, just long enough to say goodbyes to his weeping family, friends and colleagues.

Ian had made peace with the idea of death long ago, having been on the brink of it most of his life. He passed with a smile, undaunted, welcoming it even, the release from his lightning scarred body.

He found it odd then, that when he closed his eyes for what he thought would be the final time, he stayed conscious. The pain that tormented him... gone.

Ian's eyes fluttered open, confusion etched upon a new face.

It was dark and Ian panicked a little, thinking he had been buried alive before realising he was sat upright and remembering clearly that he had asked to be cremated in his will.

Ian was a part of the very select group of people that had a will and life insurance at the age of twenty.

"The hell, what is this?" Ian spoke, his voice trembled at a pitch notably higher than what he was used too. Ian reached out into the dark and felt a soft velvet-like fabric.

"Pshhkk" the sound of air releasing, and cracks of light stretched out, allowing Ian to see.

It looked like the rusting insides of a shipping container to Ian, one of the many locations kidnappers had ferreted him away to before. As Ian inspected his surroundings, a large metal mask popped up and filled his vision.

"The f*ck is this!" Ian shouted, staring into the glowing orange eyes of the mask.