They say most of your brain shuts down in cryosleep. All but the primitive side...the animal side. No wonder I'm still awake. Transporting me with civilians. Sounded like forty, forty plus. Heard an Arab voice. Some hoodoo holy man. Probably on his way to New Mecca. But what route? What route? Smelled a woman. Sweat, boots, tool belt, leather. Prospector type. Free settlers. And they only take the back roads. Then there's her. Part of a double pay-load. Woman, humanoid. Changing scents. A shape shifter. Bit and chained, like me. Could be trouble. And here's my real problem: Mr. Johns, blue-eyed devil. Planning on taking me back to slam...only this time he picked a ghost lane. A long time between stops. A long time for something to go wrong.
Back route shipping lanes made history by finding trouble at some point. And with a transport carrying not one, but two high risk convicts in the manifest, it was surely bound to happen during the trip. It was a fact that Richard B. Riddick, had been anticipating. Cryosleep did not for him, but give him time to plan his next escape, his next kill, or simply gather his surroundings. But happen, it did.
Riddick dropped to the ground of his tube and eased himself out into the open. The blindfold over his eyes shifted just enough to catch sight of the trashed ship. Riddick stood from the ground, inspecting the remains. The passenger cabin of the Hunter-Graztner had gone to shit. Cryotubes had fallen during the crash. Canisters, crates, wiring, and panels littered the floor, creating a hazardous maze. The smell of burning ozone, leather, grease, humans filled his senses. but one stood out above them. Sage, sea salt, sandalwood, and...death. Riddick paused in his recon. He moved down the line of cryotubes, his chains rattled with each step. The bit in his mouth hurt like a son of a bitch. Riddick stopped in front of the second lockdown cryotube. He lifted his head, catching a glimpse of what-or rather who- was inside.
What the fuck? Riddick thought.
Inside was something he had not expected. A woman hung from the ceiling of the cryotube. A blindfold covered her eyes just as his did. Thousands of brown braids hung from her head and down her back. Her arms were bound in several restraints, all leading to the walls. Her restraints differed from his own. The woman's seemed to form to her body, never allowing any type of change to occur. Riddick had seen these restraints before during his numerous visits in slam. Shape-shifter restraints. The woman was a Mimic. A damn good looking one at that. His eyes drifted to her dark lips. It took a second for him to realize she was suffocating. Riddick moved to the tube controls. They'd been damaged in the crash. Her oxygen had been cut off.
Riddick turned from the tube. The Mimic was as good as dead. If she survived, she'd certainly wish she was dead once Johns got ahold of her again. She wasn't Riddick's problem, Johns was. Once the bastard woke up and found him gone, he'd come after Riddick. And Riddick wasn't about to let Johns drag his ass back to slam. He moved from the tube, following Johns' scent. Johns was lying unconscious in a pile of rubble. Riddick felt his hands twitch. He could kill Johns now and be done with him. Not more chains, bit, or pain in the fucking ass to fret over. The passengers would all die easy enough next, and he could get off faster.
A thump from behind caught Riddick's attention. He turned, once again looking at the cryotube. The Mimic's had pressed against the glass, feebly trying to break it. With her other hand, she pulled off her blindfold. She gasped for air. Riddick stared at her for another moment. Her hair grew lighter, scars began to appear. A white tattoo formed on her forehead as her eyes closed. Another few seconds and she was as good as dead. Johns was another story. The bastard would wake any second and he was wasting time with the Mimic.
Fuck it. He thought. Riddick walked back toward the tube and slammed his foot through the bottom of the screen. He turned back toward Johns and picked up the gun. Johns stirred. He'd have to die later. Riddick glance back at the Mimic, who was now breathing finally. Dumb bitch cost him his chance at Johns. But he'd get another one. It wasn't a big planet after all. Riddick moved through the ship and followed the ladder down into the bellows of the ship.
okay first chapter of a Pitch Black fanfic. first PB fanfic so please be nice. I know there have been tons of new characters in this story, but i'm gonna try my hand at it. you'll get to know this convict later on. Thought I'd at least start it off with Riddick's escape from his cell.