Post Pitch Black, Pre COR. Warning- Do not take this too seriously. This is just a sort of fun adaptation of both characters. I loved COR, but it did nothing for my creativity and I haven't been able to get a decent story line from it, so I'm sticking with Post Pitch Black COR-never-happened kind of thing. Enjoy.
Disclaimer- I own NOTHING that has to do with Pitch Black or COR.
Chapter I
The music was thundering, pulsating. The club full to the brim with sweating, gyrating bodies, writhing beneath the flashing lights and lasers. They came in vinyl and leather, PVC and latex, spikes and chains, studs and buckles. They ground against each other, the latest songs their god; the newest drug their goddess. It seemed so simple, their lives, so worry free.
Kyra watched with a momentary envy, but her emerald eyes redirected to the screen before her. She sat deep in the shadows of the club, in a booth all to herself. Before her was a laptop, her fingers hovering over the keys. They began to move skillfully across the letters and numbers, the clack never heard over the bass coming from the dance floor. A log in screen came to form and her eyes never once blinked as she typed.
>>Username>> Kyra Black
>>Password>> Predator
>>Retina Scan>> Verified
>>Welcome Kyra Black. Ranking 1 of 379>>
Screen after screen popped up before her, pictures of those that were hers, the men, the woman. The ones that lived, the ones that didn't. The ones in Slam, the ones in graves. Her eyes were narrowed, the flashing of the screen reflected in her pupils. She was slowly sucked in to this world of convicts and money, where time was of the essence and pain had no place.
Her fingers were like a blur on the pad of keys, her face a mask, eyes never blinking as she accepted a new job. But suddenly, as her target came to the screen, her fingers came to a stop, and she inhaled sharply. Those eyes, so familiar, staring back at her like quick silver. She swallowed and wetted her lips, eyes never leaving the screen.
1,000,000 credits for him alive. His price had gone up since the last time she was offered the job, almost three years ago. At the top of the screen a clock appeared, counting down, only a minute before the job would be passed on, before the page would expire. Perhaps this wasn't a good idea. She knew a man that went after Riddick, once. He used to hold the number one ranking among the bounty hunters. He went by the name Johns. He didn't survive. But she was better than that red neck fuck…right?
Her finger hovered over the Y key, twitching. Thirty seconds to decide. Thirty seconds to decide whether or not to come face to face with the man left her almost five years ago. Left her to fend for herself…a child. Thoughts flew raced though her mind, mentally pacing. Fifteen seconds…Do it Kyra…..Ten seconds….nine seconds….Take the job….eight seconds….seven seconds…DO IT KYRA!…..six seconds….five….four…DO IT NOW…three…two..
A single finger connected with the Y key…the screen disappearing. A message appeared written in red lettering.
!WARNING! RICHARD B. RIDDICK IS EXTREMLY DANGEROUS.
Bring him to us alive, and the bounty will be yours. You have 168 hours.
She sat back in the seat, closing the screen as she did. She was shaking, her mouth had gone dry…but a smirk pulled at the corner of her lips and she began to laugh, softly at first, then louder, and louder till those next to her began to stare. After years of wondering when it would happen, she was finally offered the job of Richard B. Riddick, one of the most dangerous men she had ever come into contact with.
She had spent a year of grieving, wondering when he would come back for her. He had left her, fifteen, on New Mecca with the holy man, Iman. And as the days grew into weeks, and weeks grew into months, that grief inside of her grew into something much more dangerous.
After a year, she left New Mecca and the careful eyes of Iman, and found her self on board a ship filled with bounty hunters, wannabes, and those that wanted to train. She was sixteen then, almost seventeen, her body long since filled out into a woman's. She fought hard on that ship, through the training, with taunts from the men, multiple rape attacks. But she learned to survive…to kill. After a year of training, she was sent out as a highly skilled mercenary, working for 'The Company'.
'The Company' was a corporation that ran through a computer site. No one knew exactly who or what they where, just that they put up the bounty, you did the rest. They had head quarters on a desolate planet called Llexim; it was where you brought your convict. Dropped them off at the front gate of this giant Slam, and the company sent you the credit through the site where you could easily access it through the Galaxy Bank. It was a good system, worked well. Nobody asked questions and nobody got hurt.
Since her first mission, she had become one of the most dangerous bounty hunters, almost as notorious as Mr. Riddick himself. The convicts knew who she was, feared her like the fucking boogey man. She had a bank account that rivaled her competitors, and used the credits to buy a ship, and a fuck load of weapons. She also sent credit to Iman every now and then; he had a new wife and child.
The club that she found herself in now was one of her favorite spots, for the moment. She didn't stay on certain planets for too long, sometime the convicts decided they wanted to find you instead, and she didn't really didn't like them coming into her home in the middle of the day when she slept…there was always a lot of blood and it got all over her clothing and sheets and walls, it just wasn't worth it. So she moved around a lot. But at the moment, she was living on a planet called Pyroke.
The club, BarCode, was one of the local underground clubs that's featured good booze, great music, and even better drugs. The locals all wore too much make up, had multi-tonal hair, and seemed to live in vinyl. Kyra fit in perfectly. In the five years since the Hunter-Grazna crash, her hair had grown back down to the middle of her back in dark black curls. Her skin had grown pale from the lack of sunlight. It seemed that convicts only came out at night.
She had sprouted a few good inches, and now stood close to 5'11. Her body was her weapon, she kept in prime shape; strong, defined legs, small waist, petite yet powerful shoulders and arms. Even though she worked on her body, she never lost her feminine curves. She was quite proud of her self for that, considering most of her fellow female Mercs looked like bull dykes.
Kyra took a deep breath; she had seven days, starting now to find Riddick. Something inside her stomach turned over, a sudden nauseaness eating away at her.
" Fuck…" she said softly, closing her eyes. Ah, the nervousness that came before every hunt. The adrenaline that began to pump through her limbs. But this was different. This was Riddick. She tried to reassure her self. " You can do this." She said, taking another deep breath. In almost five years, she had never once doubted herself, until now. She looked down at her watched on her wrist. She programmed it for 168 hours and stood, taking the laptop under her arm.
" Ready or not, here I come." She said and she slowly made her way for the door. She wasn't quite sure was lay before her, this mission that so many other Mercs would have passed up in a heart beat. But she would find him, she would enjoy taking him away, watching that bastard being thrown back in slam for the rest of his miserable life. She felt herself frown for the bitterness of him leaving had never quite gone away.
But she would use that, use her hatred against him. He would be sorry, she would make him sorry for leaving her. Revenge was fucking sweet
Well I hope you liked it. I would loveto get some reviews telling me what you think, whether or not it's worth continuing.
