If you're an X-man buff, you'll know where I got part of this plot. Enjoy!
disclaimer: Riddick is not mine. Darn.
Prologue
Searching
The room was dark, and smelled of misery. Riddick hated being here. He had smelt this place for so long. The lonely, disgusting, rotting smell was not quite as strong as it had been in his old cell, but it was enough.
He rifled through the folders carelessly, searching for the one marked "Riddick, Richard B."
He found it, opening it and flipping through the pages. His luminous eyes saw everything he needed, although he hadn't turned on the lights and there were no windows in the room. Finally, his eyes settled on his basic profiling:
Name: Richard B. Riddick
Age: Unknown
Home: Unknown
He scowled. So the morons who imprisoned him didn't even know where he was from. At least he know the name of his home world. He was about to toss the folder across the room and leave; he had no more business here. But his eye was caught on the little italics sentence underneath his profile and background.
Bloodwork taken from subject. Donated to RYA experiment.
His eyebrows twitched up a tiny bit. They were doing lab experiments on his blood? He flipped the page over.
Riddick Yearly Analysis experiment. (RYA) government-funded project attempt to artificially recreate specimen fitting parameters of original test subject for government use.
Through the scientific jargon, Riddick realized what they had done with his blood. Of all the wretched ideas, why in hell would they CLONE him? He continued down the file.
Lab analysis: RYA specimen 13 appears healthy. Other attempts have so far failed. Specimen appears strong and possessing physical as well as mental qualities of original subject. Further experimentation will provide us with more useful weapons for this specimen.
Final Report: specimen appears to have taken on far too many mental qualities of subject, including mental paranoia and murderous tendencies. Specimen has escaped lab and is on the run. Tracking in progress.
Riddick's shoulders rippled as he ripped the folder in half. Of all the wretched, wretched ideas… he didn't need another him traipsing around doing police work and finding him. If he had to face himself in a battle, who would win?
This was a question the convict could not answer, since each person fighting would be himself. Therefore, he would have to kill this clone. Immediately.
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Valianttoasters: insanely short, i know. im just testing the waters with this story. review, and tell my what you think so far.