No Rest For The Exhausted

A few days of peace, a few days to myself where I wasn't always on edge... Instead of running around doing a bunch of errands, I was exhausted, emotionally and mentally. I just stayed relatively still and enjoyed the quiet of being alone with my two feline boys. Even they were calm and peaceful... They're very connected to me so it must've been nice for them too.

As you know, Dad went into the VA hospital's ER late Tuesday night and they found he'd gotten an infection. So they decided to keep him, which I was thankful for. I was under the impression that they would remove more fluid from his abdomen, but apparently they decided Not To... *takes a small breath* Instead, they scheduled an appointment for Tuesday, and they're sending a shuttle out to collect him but there's a catch; they'll only pick him up Downstairs. I appreciate the fact that they are coming to get him, but our biggest problem is getting him down the stairs. I guess I'll just have to figure out how to get him downstairs and how to get him back up the stairs when they bring him home. They typed out on a peace of paper that he's approved for 6 months of transportation, but thankfully we won't be here after December 17th.

Also learned when I went downstairs, that my Dad's old red toyota pick-up was eyeballed by a meter-lady (they never come around here) because I hadn't been able to move it. Why? It's a manual. Thankfully, I remember how to drive a stick shift, so that's not the issue. It's an old putt-putt that'll bunny hop if I don't work the clutch just right along with the gas pedal. Thankfully, I got her started, put her in first and let her putt forward a little, found reverse and re-parked her a'lil further forward but closer to the curb. Looks like I'll be getting up very early, every three days and finding different places to park her before I'm confident enough to drive her around the block. I actually enjoy driving a stick-shift, so I don't mind so much.

Now I fight the strange uncomfortable energy starting to inch it's way up my spine, tiny tendrils spreading out along the nerve endings, attempting to put me on edge.

I'm ready to be outta this place. I've come to realise that it's not healthy for me to be around my Father, especially by myself. Every inch of my spine tenses up, including all of the muscles around it. I have so many knots in all the way down my spine that you could punch me and I'd barely feel it. 

For the time being, I'm just going to go inward and sit here for whenever he gets up from his nap, and do the same thing I do everyday; wait on him hand and foot.

I really wanted to be able to see friends this weekend, even just to get out of this house and sit outside somewhere drinking coffee, it doesn't have to be far. Sadly, I couldn't go very far myself even if I wanted to because I barely have enough gas to get up to the store let out drive a few miles...and even than Eleanore could get pissed off and decided to stop working altogether.

Good times...

Anyhoo, I'm gunna shut it and find something to melt my brain with.

-Anon

Dancing in White Noise

Scattered pieces of thought litter the darkened earth, tinted a deep red as the blood clings to naked flesh, living crimson gone cold under a moonlit sky. A sharp breath, cool air coursing through weary lungs as the body fights to remain standing. So much weight bearing down, cutting lines of stress into pale shoulders, angry red lines trailing down the skin... A reminder of what's to come. Of things undone, broken promises and bloodied dreams. The sounds of the soul, the dying thing screaming out for redemption. Cradle this piece of flesh and find the spark that's slowly fading, leaking away it's hope for a better day. Breathe warmth back into this frostbitten hunk of muscle. Let this not be the last... 

Winged things, ravenous beings, circle over head. Biding their time as they scrutinize with hollowed eyes, any moment of weakness... 'Lose your footing,' their silence whispers in the consuming darkness. They trail the red footprints, the scent of weakness weaving into the air like a seductive symphony. They itch for just a taste of that broken innocence before the spirit dies and they're left to pick at its empty shell like gulls scavenging the remains of oysters on a rocky beach.

These words pour from shaking fingertips, the mind twisted in strange poetic musings as the body fights the last invisible tendrils of sleep that continue to trickle gently at the back of the neck. Beckoning, so sweetly, to go back to the safety of dreams. Yet I refrain, needing a moment to collect the misplaced parts of me and try to make sense of this senseless chaos running wildly behind my tired eyes.

A slow movement, taking in a quiet breath and releasing it soundlessly between chapped lips as a delicate hand reaches out and brings the rim of a black Nightmare Before Christmas Thermos into view to take a drink. Heat swirls around the tongue only to trail a line of warmth down the throat as that rich, strong coffee pools sweetly in the stomach. It's little things such as a hot cup of coffee in the morning, that helps ease some of the pressure from my clouded mind. Such a simple thing...giving so much comfort. That's all that matters. A little bit of comfort when the world feels as though its released the hounds after a broken spirit that has no where left to run.

The images of strange places and familiar faces dance behind my eyes as I try to make sense of my dreams. They were strangely pleasant at one point... A beautiful soul made an appearance and it was different from the last time he made an appearance. He was more protective, more attentive... As if he knew of the unspoken breaking of my heart as the loneliness of my situation continues to cut into me. Words I dare not speak, the wounds festering and unable to heal due to the relentless madness slicing into my every waking moment.

But he was with me, that radiant smile reaching those soulful brown eyes. We were surrounded by unknown faces that were extras playing the roles of our friends. The theme was obviously family, because he merely spent time with me, his presence reassuring me that my silent suffering, no matter how much I've tried to hide it, has not gone unnoticed. That though I try to hide myself away, my energy reaches out to everyone around me...and those sensitive to it, feel it calling out for help within the quiet.

It was strange to know he had made an appearance to make sure I knew I wasn't alone. That even though it was a dream and not the harsh reality I was accustomed to, an escape for the soul as the body rests... I was aware of that fact. I Knew I was dreaming...and so did he. It was strange, but comforting...especially due to the fact that he appeared at the end of the first half of my sleep and remained through the rest. Even as the backgrounds changed and shifted, he stayed exactly as he was. Which again, is an odd thing...for those of you vivid dreamers reading this, you'll understand what I mean.

But all of that was harshly ripped away by a distant voice calling my name in anger. I stumbled from my bed, sheets tangled around my legs as though begging me to stay... I got up, exited my bedroom and found out why my Father had abruptly awoken me two hours before I'd planned to get up. Painful story short, I was nothing more than a verbal punching bag for his frustration. He was angry about not finding something in the kitchen, and though the whole ordeal had long since passed, he got me up so he could chew me out for it. Just like he used to when he was angry and had one too many beers...

And no long after this wonderful awakening, he went right back to 'telling me' not asking me, to do things for him. Why? Because I was up.

-takes a quiet breath and lets it out slowly-

I'm so worn out from the constant negativity, the emotional battering every day, the non-stop demands and endless discussions I'm forced into because he wants to talk about benign topics because I'm the only one here. I've grown so callous to all of this... For you see, this isn't a new thing. It's slightly different due to his sickness, but this kind of badgering has been going on for YEARS. The only times I truly enjoyed being around my Father was in the mornings...before he drank. When he was still my Dad. Not the monster dwelling inside those aluminum cans.

Now that monster lives somewhere inside of him, bursting out in spurts when he has a panic attack and for those few moments, releases its venom at me. I know he can't help it, most of the time... But there are moments when he just gets mean...and destroys me...only to switch a few minutes later by asking me do something for him, as if nothing happened. It's like a form of twisted dementia... And I'm left feeling so shattered.

I know there's another reason for his anger coming to the surface. Sadly I'm the only one around he lashes out at... 

I've gotta get him to the VA's ER tonight, no matter what and the only one who can help me is Marco. He's a very strong guy, but even he can't just carry Dad down the stairs. He's just going to help me make sure Dad gets down the three flights as carefully as possible and then keep him steady as we walk to the car. I understand it's last second, but if Dad doesn't go... He can drown in his sleep. The fluid levels in his body are too high, and I'm tired of him fighting me about it. I just need to get him there tonight...and find out how many days they may keep him. Probably no more than two. I'll have to arrange it so they make sure to bring him home and help get him back upstairs.

It's honestly a simple thing that he's made into a big production by bringing up all the things that can go wrong. I'm tired of hearing it and he's not getting out of it.

He's also more on edge than normal because my big Brother got the okay about the first house he checked out for all of us to move into. A two story with 6 bedrooms and 3 bathrooms. He's hoping to have everyone moved in by December 17th. I'm stoked. Part of me is a little sad because we'll lose our childhood home, (Dad's lived here since 1968) but it's a good thing. Sure, it's going to be in Beaumont, which is nowhere next to my ocean, but that's okay. Lady Pacific isn't going anywhere, and I can still visit.

We're all doing this for Dad and in those moments when he freaks out and barks at me that I'm Telling Him What To Do and No One Asked Him, it's hard for me to restrain my anger. I've gotten good at just taking it because you cannot reason with someone who's brain isn't functioning like a normal, lucid person. And he blows up like this over literally nothing. It's especially hurtful when it's a pleasant topic and I'm only mentioning something that has nothing to do with me telling him what to do. It's as though he regresses and throws a fit.

It's hard to deal with, but it is what it is. I don't get that upset about it anymore. Why should I? It's almost normal now and I've finally adapted to it. Sure I'm worn out on several different levels but that's the situation and crying over it and feeling sorry for myself won't change anything. Just wasting precious energy I need to reserve so I can function. Yes, it still burns me I'm unable to help him on my own (never did much enjoy the concept of feeling helpless) and it only drives me to be stronger, in every way. Seriously, I can't stand the whole, 'Damsel In Distress' notion. Sure I'm distressed, but if some knight tried to whisk me away from my tower, thinking me meak and helpless... I'd give one helluva verbal lashing once we're on safe ground for assuming said notion, because at the exact moment he showed up, I had just perfected my plan to pull a Shawshank and out this bitch.

-laughs at the image-

I'd probably continue the lecture by going off about sexism and gender stereotypes in fairytales... It'd be pretty damned entertaining.

-chuckles and shakes her head-

Alright my lovelies, it's time that I make myself another cup of coffee and continue to get my bearings back. Damn...I wrote quite a bit this morning, huh? 

-smirks- Guess when you gotta write, you write.

On that note, I shall take my leave.

-Adieu

Unbalanced Equilibrium

Music swells sweetly through the small headphones placed carefully in my ears as a cool fall breeze dances passed the parted blinds of the open window to my right. Coffee, rich and strong, pours down my throat in a warm trail of comfort as my fingers dance along these black keys.

An attempt at some kind of normalcy as the strange dizziness continues to cling at the back of my neck. Possibly due to pinching a nerve somewhere in the middle of my back yesterday. I thought buying some whiskey would help with the sharp, needle like sting that would explode every time I tried to move. It did, to an extent. I didn't feel much of anything, which allowed me to take a short nap; muscles and mind relaxed enough to allow rest to swell through me.

Last night was uneventful except for the hilarious new episode of Supernatural that had me bubbling with laughter even long after it was over. The cast, crew and writers really out did themselves with that one. Easily a new favorite.

Today, I'm alright. Mostly. Received a phone call not more than twenty minutes after I finally pulled myself out of bed, the 24 hour home care that had sent a lovely Nurse just the day before (hired through the VA) to ask how things went. There was the pleasantries as well as the subject of me taking on the professional role of Dad's caretaker rather than they sending someone out three days a week, for three hours at a time. So now, I have an appointment at 10am next tuesday to go in and discuss everything. I'll need two professional references, legal documentation, as well as a scheduled TB test and Physical. I mentioned I don't have a doctor and was informed I could use the resources they have available. They were very supportive and helpful...

I just... Have a very serious issue with Doctors. I don't like being touched by strangers, especially doctors. I know how strange that sounds, but it is what is... And I'm willing to get over it to help Dad. I have a feeling this will be temporary until Dad and I move in with my Big Brother and his lovely family by January 1st.

I think it would also be better if I went through the normal caregiver routine, as his Live In rather then only compensated for 9 hours a week. But that's all the VA is willing to pay for, and it's something, so I'll take it. It just doesn't make sense to have them send someone for that short amount of time when I'm basically here 24/7 and Dad needs me for more than 3 hours at a time. And Dad wants me to get compensated for me taking care of him.

Allot to think about...

-Yawns and takes a drink of her coffee-

Anyhoo, I'm going to go and continue thinking...gotta make a few phone calls... I hope this nerve thing eases up soon, cuz if I keep feeling like this I won't be able to drive to the store for Dad. -Sighs-

Heh, wish me luck.

-Anon

Peering out through the veil

It's been awhile since I've written a blog... Been awhile since I've been able to collect my thoughts like wayward fireflies and try to make sense of their glowing chaos.

I sit here at 8 minutes til 10am, having been up since 7am, trying to get myself adjusted to being up early and getting my nocturnal self in bed no later than 10pm. I'm trying to readjust, reacclimate myself to every new day in the hopes that somehow it'll take away some of the stress. Gotta get up early so I can be sure Dad takes his meds and seeing as I rarely ever have time to myself anymore, it only makes sense to get up early considering Dad tends to crash before dawn and actually gives me a few uninterrupted hours to myself. It feels good to be left alone, to know that for this short amount of time I can be still.

As many have noticed my life has changed dramatically in the last few months. Right as I was starting to Finally venture away from the nest, the fates threw a curveball at my legs, and forced me to faceplant just a foot from where I began. Stopping me just long enough to see that if I continued on my journey, my father's health would continue to plummet and there would be no way to go back. The universe gave me a choice; I could focus solely on myself or I could pause long enough to use some of that energy to prolong my father's life. I knew it would be a very hard and stressful journey if I chose to take the selfless path... But honestly, it never really was an option. It was an instinctive drive to protect my family, even at the cost of my own well-being. Yes, I was insane with emotion when everything began to bubble to the surface, that thin line racing into view... Do Now, or mourn yet another precious life lost to the beyond. I was given a chance to Do something about it, so I took it... Even if it means adapting to a path that's hellbent on testing my resolve every day.

I'm adjusting to everything, and have taken on a calmer, almost silent demeanor because of it. Nothing is too exciting, I don't experience the rolling peels of laughter or the raging heat of anger. I'm somewhere trapped in the middle, a quiet knowing trying to keep my emotional scales in balance.

Many things are going to change by this year's end. Uprooting from my child hood home and moving closer toward Lomalinda by January. Becoming my Father's live-in caregiver while having a nurse come in three times a week, three hours a visit. Her first appearance will be today around 1pm, which should be interesting.

December 24th I'll be turning 30 years old and I honestly don't know how I should celebrate. I'd like to have a decent sized celebration (prior to the actual day for obvious reasons) considering one, I'll be moving from my home by the sea and two, I'll be 3 decades old.

Suggestions would be appreciated :)

I've gone through allot recently, and I do apologize for my change in personalty. It wasn't an intentional transition, I've merely adapted to circumstances currently out of my control.

It's interesting, I don't really plan to do things anymore. I truly do live my life day to day, my focus on my Father and making sure he's taken care of. While also going to the store Daily, making sure my two feline boys are fed and loved, taking care of our bills, trying to spend as little as possible knowing that our funds are not infinite. My Seasonal job at the Halloween store ending on November 11th while also knowing I can no longer work as a nanny/professional sitter due to my car situation and not getting paid enough to fill up the tank to do said job.

Eleanore is very angry. Something happened with the throttle and she tends to completely shut off while I'm turning from a busy street to the next and I have to veer all two tons to the right (no power steering when this happens) and hope the person behind me values their life. So far, people have been smart and polite enough to merely go around the stalled muscle car attempting to restart. It's such a normal thing for me, I never get upset. Hell, the first time it happened I didn't panic. I've grown up in old cars with tempers, so this isn't new. Ellie's telling me she's hurt, so I understand her little hiccups. Besides, no reason to flip out when all I have to do is restart her and she'll roar back to life. It's the other Cars I don't trust. Thankfully, I drive a Beast so people tend to give me allot of room. If it were a newer, much Lighter car... I'd worry.

Also...about a month ago, I had a small accident. Know the other car is completely fine. Go figure the only other vehicle that could survive a 'kiss' from my tank, would have to be a tank itself. I kissed the left STEELE bumper of a Large 70 something Van... Again, the Van was completely fine... Ellie however... Now has a deep line starting from the passenger side door going all the way to the brake light. It's a nasty looking scar... Heh, now we're even more connected.

I can't tell you how much this hurts me... It hurts me now to finally show all of you what I've done. What I did to my baby to protect the Moron to my left from getting smacked because he couldn't help but sit there, and fucking STARE at me trying to turn. Avoiding hitting that tiny car resulted in me hurting the love of my life.

I'm reminded every time I see her. My heart sinks a little more with each glance... 

I didn't bring it up on Facebook because I didn't want to be that one person who's constantly posting the negative happenings in their life. That's one of the reasons I stopped writing altogether. I was so completely disgusted with myself...the pain in my heart that I was being forced through some incredibly hard challenges without consent... I don't want to be that person.

Loneliness has become a quiet presence in my life... Biding my time for the moment my Dad asks me to do something for him, sitting here for no other reason. It's hard to be joyful when home becomes a prison.

Yes, hard times have poured into my existence but for those rare times I can leave this apartment and have just a few moments of freedom with a friend, means more to me than I can ever put into words.

My only concern now, is getting Dad to the hospital again. He needs to have more fluid removed and I need to find a way to get him down the stairs and driven there. I, cannot do it. I'm hoping the nurse may be able to help in some way. If not, I'll have to call the VA Hospital and ask them about transport.

-lets out a soft sigh and drinks her coffee-

I'm sorry this isn't the most upbeat post I've written, but considering my circumstances, I'm more peppy then depressed, I suppose.

In random news I've lost more weight. I've dropped from 165 last week down to 160 and I've been actively working out again. It helps me feel better. Losing the weight wasn't intentional, running around constantly and helping move Dad when he's trying to stand or lay down, plus carrying 25 to 40 pounds of weight everyday from a block away up three flights of stairs (grocery shopping) has been a workout alone. I figure might as well throw an added workout to help gain more muscle, because I definitely need it incase Dad loses his balance.

I'm struggling...and adjusting. But that's all one can do in this kind of situation. Hope everyone is well and had a good Halloween. It didn't feel like Halloween to me...for various reasons... 

Anyhoo, I'm done rambling. Take care lovelies.

-Anon

Within The Absence Of Light ::Part Eight::

[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 ;)]

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-

A tense kind of quiet coils through the air as the storm continues to slam against the compound. While off in the distance, the wind lets out a series of eerie howls that echo through these steel walls; a haunting chorus that puts something inside me on edge. Unwanted and fragmented, sensations I thought I snuffed out with the edge of my blade sinking into the last person I killed.

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-

Curious...

Do these words have any affect? Do they slip inside, weaving deep within and stir the imagination? Or do you find them as dull and as lifeless as the next pointless rambler?

I tried to write a story but found, even for me...it fell a little flat. Sure, it started out with potential but died somewhere along the way. I said I'd finish it for you...but not many of you are enjoying it. The ones that do; you have my deepest thanks.

But considering how things have progressed and the lack of interest in the story, suffice to say it's going on hiatus. Because let's be honest, it's crap. Plain and simple. I've written better and I know I have it in me to write something better then what I was trying to pass as decent. The hell is wrong with me? I'm damn good if I just dig deep inside and let out the emotion the way you're supposed to when you're writing a story.

So I'm gunna try again, try writing something that All Of You will enjoy.

If you really do like Within the Absence of Light, then please...tell me. Because from what the statistics on my page views has told me, very few people do.

It's hard to get this writing thing going when my brain is scrambled the way it is.

Well... I'm gunna try again.

Again, if you want more WtAoL, Tell Me and I'll finish it for you. Until then, time to work on something better.

-Anon-

-Within the Absence of Light- ::Part Seven::

She ran the tip of her tongue along her lips, wetting them nervously as she tried to think of a way to Not tell him exactly what it was that she was running from. But she knew he could feel it…fucker had always been connected to her on a level neither of them would ever understand.

“So you holed yourself up on this abandoned rock in an empty colony, surrounded by acid filled pecker-heads that you’ve somehow gotten accustomed to your presence otherwise we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now. Not that I’m complaining…” He gave a rueful smile that finally caused her to roll her eyes at him. Seeing that loosened something in his chest.

“Yes, they’re accustomed to me because…” She didn’t know how to say it. Which is odd, considering just before Riddick reentered her life less then an hour ago, she wouldn’t give two fucks how it sounded. Now? There was a strange nagging in the back of her mind and she definitely didn’t like the way it made her feel.

Riddick waited patiently, knowing she was having an inner struggle with herself. Yet another good sign that his presence was getting under her skin.

She growled out a frustrated sigh and decided to just spit it out. “I raised them.”

He quirked a brow at this. “Raised them?” Riddick rumbled and watched her give a nod. “Elaborate.”

Wildcat took a deep breath, well as much as she could considering his big ass was still on top of her, keeping her pinned against the map. “I had a few captive bounties on board ship with me. I thought I could give them a chance at freedom and cut’em loose when I landed. They decided they wanted to stick close to me. Problem was they were three very large male ex-cons and one of the three had a taste for female victims.”

Riddick smirked, “you used them for bait.”

“No and for your information, the other two were decent men that earned my trust.” She shot at him, her anger obviously masking the remorse she felt for watching them die. “We touched down seven months ago. Roger and Morris wanted to keep an eye on Cason, didn’t trust him as far as they could throw him, especially around me. While on our first week out here on this planet, Morris had decided to take Cason out with him for a little recon. Roger stayed behind to help me figure out supplies and see if there was any information left on what happened to this place.”

Wildcat stopped for a moment, her gaze unfocused as the memories danced behind her eyes as if it were only yesterday. “It was nearly twelve hours before we heard anything and it got us a little worried. Just as we were about to head out, Morris and Cason dragged themselves back in. Muttering something about huge spiders that ambushed them when they found a derelict spacecraft that seemed to be on the planet for god knows how long. Roger and I immediately took them to med lab just so they could recoup when Morris mentioned something about a container they’d acquired at the crash site but they left it ten feet outside of the compound. Roger offered to retrieve it while I doped them enough to get some shut eye.”

Riddick interrupted when she trailed off again. “Roger went MA too.”

She nodded and regained her thoughts, “same thing but not for as long. Eight hours this time, but three hours too long.”

He could see a haunted look shimmer through her depths before it vanished and she continued. “Cason wasn’t a deep sleeper like Morris, and had managed to give Morris another dose when I thought he was still out. I was right here, when he attacked me. Didn’t quite make this table like he’d planned, but he did get me on the ground.”

He felt his stomach twist with disgust at the thought that he wasn’t there to protect her…but also disgusted with himself for pushing her like he had when she told him she didn’t want to be touched. Now he understood why she’d tried to gut him…

Riddick went to get up and let her loose when something in her voice brought him back and held him there, captive. “Right when things seemed like they were going his way, Cason suddenly jerked back like he’d been shot and convulsed in agony. Finally free, I took the opportunity to end his suffering by grabbing my knife out of his grasp and drove it so deep into his eye socket that I didn’t stop until I felt the crack of my blade hit the back of his skull.”

When she paused again, he took the moment to sit up and back, allowing her the space she’d asked for in the first place. But to Riddick’s surprise, she didn’t move. She laid there, her eyes peering off unfocused as her right hand clutched the black cloth of her shirt at the center of her chest, reliving those horrible memories as she spoke. “But he didn’t stop convulsing. Even when I ripped the blade out and knew he was dead, when his back hit the deck there was a horrible crunching sound deep inside his chest…as though something was trying to get out.” Wildcat finally sat up but wouldn’t give Riddick her gaze.

“That’s when the blood oozed out and something burst out of his ribcage with enough force to cause bits and pieces of broken rib, flesh and thicker things to spray all over the place. The thing that came out of him, a pink and eyeless creature with a mouth full of metallic teeth and a second smaller jaw where it its tongue should’ve been, jutted out at me as it took its first breath. I didn’t feel all that bad about Cason, if anything I felt remorse for not letting the creature escape when he was still alive. I did feel my stomach sink when I heard a faint gasp followed by something splashing on the table in the med lab.”

“Morris.” Riddick added in a low tone and she brought her eyes to his, an expression of pain appearing along her delicate features he wished he could take from her.

“And eventually Roger.” Wildcat said in a quiet voice and swallowed back a sudden lump of emotion from the back of her throat. “So all three dead by three new arrivals that for some reason…I didn’t have the heart to kill. If anything, they were the only living company I had. Maybe that means something isn’t right in my head, but I liked having them around. They kept me company, made my days on this rock less maddening knowing I wasn’t alone.”

“So they started out inside one of those, facehugger things…” Riddick started with a motion toward the med lab where the remaining corpses sat floating in those test tubes. “They latch on, implant one these bad boys, using us as an incubator and we end up human toasters.”

“Interesting analogy…” Wildcat mused softly and nodded, “but yea, that’s pretty much how they work.”

Riddick was truly fascinated. “How long did it take for them to molt?”

She thought about it for a moment and replied, “a little over 24 hours.”

“And they’ve been with you ever since.” Riddick stated but felt as if there was more here then even she knew about.

“For the most part. Lately they’ve only made an appearance once maybe twice a day.” She replied and ran a gloved hand over her hair that was pulled back in a long braid, removing her goggles from her forehead in the process. “Today was there first visit.”

“So there’s a chance they’ll be stopping by again.” He mused under his breath and quipped, “funny how they didn’t really react to my presence.”

This time Wildcat gave him a sideways look. “Riddick, don’t you remember?” She asked and watched curiosity crease his intense brow. “We share a similar scent…and if you were a real threat, you would’ve been dead before you walked off that platform.”

He quirked a brow and retorted in a flat tone, “that’s comforting.”

-End Part Seven-