I do not own Riddick or any other copywritten characters.
Welcome to your new homeā¦
The burlap hood over my head had rubbed my face raw, and smelled of the sweat and vomit of those who had come before me. I would leave something of my own behind for whoever was next, as it was now saturated with my blood. I had lost track of time hours ago, perhaps even a day. When one begins drifting in and out of consciousness, it becomes harder and harder to tell. In the beginning I had tried to lose myself inside my own head, a trick that I had learned early on in life. I sang old songs to myself, recited long story poems. I drowned out the strings of filth and profanity that were being spit at me while metal poles and steel-toed boots collided with my body. But there was one voice in the melee that I couldn't seem to drown out. It was the voice of a female.
"Ah, calm down ya whiney fuckers! I didn't rough her face up too much! Since when do you care what they look like anyway? Just shut yer eyes and get down to business. Better yet, leave the goddamn bag on er head!"
I would remember that voice.
I couldn't say how much time had passed, but when the hood was ripped from my head a clump of my hair came way with it. I heard heavy footsteps leading away from me, and for the first time the air around me felt empty. My senses started to come back to me, slowly, but the sensation was like a wave washing over me. I began to try and assess the damage. I didn't bother trying to open my eyes; I knew that they were swollen shut. My nose was broken, this was obvious. All of this was familiar to me. My head was reeling, and the right side of my face was awash with pain. I would later learn that this was due to a broken cheekbone. But the bitch had kept her word; from the neck up I wasn't in such a bad state. On to the rest of me.
No doubt my left shoulder was not where it should have been, and the arm below it was broken. I knew the pain of broken fingers and ribs, but had never had so many broken at one time. The rest of the injuries I could not diagnose right away, I only knew pain that surpassed anything I had endured before. And my insides are another story altogether.
It was almost quiet now, but a prison is never truly quiet.
