[Onyx's Note; With everything going on in my life right now...and the possibility that my Father may not make Christmas... I decided to push forward and keep writing. It's honestly the only good thing I have any control over. Sure it's shaky and just starting to pick up, but I don't want to give up on it...and I am thankful to those of you who are reading it. So let's keep going, shall we? *gives a small smile* And on that note...enjoy ;)]
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Bitter resentment fills these veins, broken against the mold, chained to the silence. So sickly sweet, sticking to the roof of my mouth, choking the breath, filling me with hate.
…save me...
You find the secrets falling in line, one by one they dance into oblivion, weightless, withering...unknown.
…you should have seen them laughing...
Voices rising over a landscape of flesh and bone, corpses mangled, their tears dried by the winds of time as a fragile sanity begs for forgiveness. Tortured screams echo into the nothing, lost, shattered... Unclean.
…point your finger again and I'll bite it off...
I'm lost in this hurricane of emotions, swimming, swirling, encasing me in a web of nightmares. I hear the whispers, slithering through me, caressing the frightened child, suffocating me.
…don't look at me...
Poetry in motion, bittersweet and refined. I find comfort in the arms of an ethereal night... Overwhelming, protective, forgiving.
…I can't sleep when all I see are monsters...
Watch the light as it bleeds off into the horizon, taken over by the velvet blue black of an ever graceful night. As the world falls into the arms of sleep, you'll find me standing there, on the lines between reality and dreams...
...I am the Whisper in a Crowd of Screams...
-Her Perspective-
…save me...
You find the secrets falling in line, one by one they dance into oblivion, weightless, withering...unknown.
…you should have seen them laughing...
Voices rising over a landscape of flesh and bone, corpses mangled, their tears dried by the winds of time as a fragile sanity begs for forgiveness. Tortured screams echo into the nothing, lost, shattered... Unclean.
…point your finger again and I'll bite it off...
I'm lost in this hurricane of emotions, swimming, swirling, encasing me in a web of nightmares. I hear the whispers, slithering through me, caressing the frightened child, suffocating me.
…don't look at me...
Poetry in motion, bittersweet and refined. I find comfort in the arms of an ethereal night... Overwhelming, protective, forgiving.
…I can't sleep when all I see are monsters...
Watch the light as it bleeds off into the horizon, taken over by the velvet blue black of an ever graceful night. As the world falls into the arms of sleep, you'll find me standing there, on the lines between reality and dreams...
...I am the Whisper in a Crowd of Screams...
-Her Perspective-
I’m not likin’ the emotions running through me. They’ve never been anything but a god damned weakness. Better to hold onto that rage before I start thinkin’ a little too long and hard about things that got no place in my thoughts. An uninvited intruder that makes you second guess yourself. Can’t be lettin’ that happen, now can I? Emotions make you slip, make you sloppy and get you killed. I walked away from that warmth when my world went dark. The only place that’s held me and kept me safe is that cold black void deep inside.
Havin’ Riddick around… Not quite what I had expected. I’m disgusted with my body betraying me the way it has. No one gets a rise outta me… Period. He shows up and all my control goes out the god damned window. The hell kinda shit is that?! I’ve been gettin’ by just fine the past ten years, nice and numb, callous to the want or need for physical affection. Especially after those unfortunate times where I was nothing more then a warm body to violate for some sick fuck’s sexual gratification. I swore to myself I would never be put in that situation again. Female doesn’t mean an easy mark.
Then he shows up… It’s just gotta be muscle memory. The echoes of good emotions, faint but sadly still hiding beneath my skin, desperate for the chance to feel that protective warmth again. This is simply a ‘mind over matter’ kinda deal. Logic will win this out. Just because something feels good, don’t mean it’s good for you and that’s the last thing on my mind. I got no want or need to be held like some fragile dame afraid of the monsters in the dark. I’m that special kinda twisted that gladly welcomes those monsters. Challenging them to try a go at me and if they win? Then I deserve to die. Kill or be Killed. That’s just how it is… Nice and simple.
Human emotions; fear, joy, love, guilt, need…a conscience… Got no room for that when you’ve got death on your heels.
But personally, I’d rather be the Reaper… So I never have to feel ever again. Because after each kill, another part of me dies. The more I ghost, the more empty I become. I don’t want to live through that again… Cuz let me tell ya, I’d rather have every bone in my body crushed then feel the soul shattering despair of loss when the very thing you love, you’re entire reason for living…is ripped out of your hands and there’s not a fucking thing you can do about it.
Riddick better keep his distance…because all I want to do is kill him for bringing these feelings back to the surface.
Maybe he should’ve just stayed gone.
-Outside Perspective-
A quiet silhouette sits on the counter along the wall in operations while methodically working a wet stone along the silver edge of a nasty looking blade. Practiced movements of expert hands continue to sharpen the steel as her mind goes inward, sorting through the chaos just behind her eyes. With each slide of that black stone, she pushes away the emotions; creatures hell-bent on the destruction of her carefully fortified walls. It’s been so long since she’s felt so intensely, feelings that she thought she’d buried with the warmth they had stolen from her.
An empty shell floating aimlessly within the black.
Blue fire orbs peer in thoughtful silence at those small black gloved hands working methodically over a deadly blade. He knows she’s somewhere else, mulling over old emotions that put her on edge and make her feel weak. Riddick knows that all too well…and hates that she’s become so much like the shadow of the man he used to be. But there’s something in her that’s stronger than the darkness that envelops her spirit.
There has always been a softness in her, a purity that brought even the most demonic of predator to their knees. Well, all except the Human Variety. Not all that surprising…they’re less then animals. They’re fucking parasites.
Maybe that’s what had led him to her all those years ago. There was just something about her…the way she moved, the way she smelled. A subtle air of familiarity that clung to her and seemed to reach out to him, caressing something once thought dead so deep inside. Riddick didn’t understand what is was back then, but it’s slowly becoming clear to him as he watches her in his silent contemplation.
A small curve pulls at the edge of his mouth as an old memory slithers through his mind.
* * * *
Dust coiled through the dry air as his heavy boots left little sound as he walked toward the decrepit outpost. This place looked like it was runnin’ on its last legs. The structure was beat to shit, one too many days bathing under a brutal sun, heavy dust storms slamming its foundation so hard the damned thing was not only stripped of several layers of paint, it was leaning haphazardly to the left as if it was about to collapse at any moment.
He’d have preferred to have kept going, but the rig needed to be refueled and he was running low on supplies. Figured he stop a spell, get what he needed and break atmo the first chance he got. This was no place for the likes of him. Waay too bright and too damned hot. Reminded him of a certain slam that made hell look like a vacation spot. Not the kinda place he wanted to get too comfortable in.
A deep growling bark halted his movement just shy three feet from the double doors as a huge shape rose from beneath the ruins of an old shed to his right. Lips curled back along a broad muzzle, revealing rows of dagger like teeth as the harsh light of the yellow sun ignited its sandy coat with a golden sheen. Biggest damned canine he’d seen in years. It had the coloring of a golden German Shepard but was the size of a black bear. The thick fur made the thing appear even larger as it advanced painfully slow, a warning growl emanating from its closed jaws.
“Easy…” He rumbled out and slid his hand silently along the handle of his hidden blade, preparing for that moment that big fucker would try a go at him. He never was much for killing an animal, especially a dog of any kind. “Easy boy.”
Ears pinned flat against its large skull, it stopped and let out another growl. One last warning that if he wanted to walk away with all of his parts, he was going to have to think of a plan…and fast. This was not going to end well.
“Artemis!” A commanding voice bellowed from the open doorway and the instant it hit his ears, the giant dog immediately changed its posture. “Artemis, ease down.”
Curious eyes danced from the dog to the door and found a young woman charging over; combat boots thundering into the hard desert as she walked right up to the huge canine and planted herself between them. “Ease down, right now.” She growled in that deep tone and stared that beast down like it was an unruly child.
To his amusement, the beastly ‘Artemis’ apparently did not want her wrath and began backing up with its tail tucked firmly between its legs.
He made a point to let his eyes roam the young woman’s frame as she kept her eyes on the retreating canine and thoroughly enjoyed the view before she turned those cat like eyes onto him.
“Alpha female…sexy.” He mused in a thundering tone as he ran his tongue slowly along his lips.
She quirked an unimpressed brow and completely dismissed the comment, “Riddick, correct?”
The question threw him for a moment until he realized the old man that owned the place probably hired her on to keep watch during the day. Most days he’d be rather enraged that he was recognized. But he trusted the old man and this young woman had a strange energy to her that he couldn’t quite pin down. Something that spoke to him…calming the whispers.
For the first time in years, he decided a different approach. “The one and only.” Riddick replied in a smooth thunder and began closing the distance between them when she suddenly held a gauge pointed right at his package.
“Not so fast, shuga.” She shot at him in a cold tone, her posture telling him she was very comfortable holding that powerful piece in her delicate hands. “Hand off the handle of your blade and I’ll lower the gauge. Sound fair?”
How did she know? Not one to test a confident woman holding a firearm aimed at his privates, he simply complied and brought his hands into view. “Your turn, Princess.” Riddick mused in a husky octave and smirked when she merely shook her head at him.
“The name’s Wildcat,” she corrected and lowered the gauge but didn’t put it back on her person, “shall we?”
Riddick gave her a sideways grin, “ladies first.”
Narrowed eyes glared into those pitch black shades, a weariness tightening her shoulders as she turned slowly and began the short trek into the broken down building.
Riddick was thoroughly enjoying the view when her sultry purr brought him back to the present. “Don’t think I’m stupid enough to willingly leave my back open to an attack,” she paused long enough to turn her head to the left, a sly grin curling her full lips, “there’s a reason I named her Artemis.”
He slowed in his footsteps and glanced over his right shoulder. Sure enough, that huge dog was stalking him…a silent shadow of power and contained violence trailing his every move.
A smirk graced his lips, “Good Dog.” He mused under his breath and continued through the double doors…and decided that he might enjoy staying for a few days after all.
-End Part Eight-
