1 See No Evil…
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All Pitch Black material copyrighted by the right people, all my material copyrighted me. Please R & R, and feel free to send any comments:
magz@charter.net
http://webpages.charter.net/noise
---
There was a struggle. Somewhere, high above him, the sounds of it wafting down the open floor to his ears. Riddick cocked his head upwards, peering through the darkness enshrouding him. He blinked rapidly, trying to focus his eyes. The pain had dulled to a low throb in the front of his brain, easing to a slight annoyance at his temples, which he currently rubbed furiously with his fingertips.
The struggle grew louder, and he saw shapes approaching the rail far above him, and across the open compound. They held a wriggling prisoner above their heads, struggling to keep a grip on him as they neared the drop. The prisoner renewed his struggles, fighting with all his strength to get free from his captors.
Riddick moved his eyes down to ground level, directly beneath the characters. There were several stacked boxes, filled with what he wasn't sure, but they were far enough out that they would end up being what broke his fall. Riddick blinked, straining his eyes to focus and pulled them back up several stories to the guards and the prisoner, barely in enough time to watch as he was tossed out over the railing.
He didn't scream. Arms and legs flailed uselessly in the air for the short three seconds it took to fall the five or six stories, and with a sickening crunch, land amid the boxes. The boxes seemed to explode from the sudden impact of the body, wood planks flying outwards every direction. Along with the pieces of broken wood came material, old discarded prisoner uniforms. Everything settled quickly, wood creaking as it fell still, and nothing moved. Several stories above, the guards laughed, sent down a few hearty good tidings, and disappeared back into the light.
Riddick grunted, leaning forward on his knees as he peered at the crash site. He couldn't discern the body, hidden as it was beneath the rubble. He leaned back, resting his head against the wall he sat against, the coldness a welcoming aid to the headache. He waited for upwards of a half hour, but there was no movement. Riddick had a few hours before he wanted to put his plan into action, and had nothing against calmly sitting here, letting his eyes and mind adjust to the new surgery. The pink and the purple shades of the crash site hadn't moved, save for the mouse he saw skitter his way fifteen minutes ago. Riddick closed his aching eyes, they screamed in relief, and let his self be lulled into a light slumber, something desperately needed.
An hour and fifteen minutes later, he was awakened at the sound of a slight groan. His eyes snapped open; they focused immediately, everything clear and precise, and easily discernable in the blackness. Riddick allowed himself a pleased grin. The headache had dulled to nothingness, and his eyes felt as they always had, but with the added extra of night sight.
From the crash site a white flash in his vision indicated movement. A plank fell from it's tilted perch to the ground, revealing a hand. Riddick watched as the fingers wiggled, searching for a hold, a point of leverage, leaving bloody fingerprints on the concrete. The hand found nothing, and the arm could move no further than a few inches before there was a gasp of pain from within the boxes and tangled material. The moving ceased for five minutes, Riddick stayed rooted to his spot and waited. He was surprised that the prisoner was alive at all, so far had the fall seemed and unforgiving his landing spot.
And then suddenly a rough, spasmodic jerk of the left arm, forcing off several planks of wood that pinned it down; there was a loud crack at the movement, coming from the shoulder of the prisoner. Another gasp of pain, but the arm didn't fall back. It groped outwards, fingers feeling at the floor. They found something to hold onto, a crack in the cement it looked to Riddick, and dug in. Then a kick, moving the left leg up and out for leverage. The prisoner pushed off the ground with his foot, at the same time pulling his upper body with his arm, and succeeded in pulling out from beneath the rubble, moving just enough to be clear of the discarded uniforms and the broken wood.
More silence, and still Riddick remained in his sitting position, content to watch how far the prisoner got. The heavy breathing dwindled down, calm breathing preceding over the hurting gasps. In another ten minutes, the prisoner moved again. Using his left arm to push up his torso, the prisoner managed to pull in his left leg and get into a half hazard kneeling position, with no weight at all on the right limbs. Gasping for breath again, he groped for the nearest box; shuffling the few inches he had to in order to grab a corner.
Riddick cocked his head, watching as the prisoner leaned that way for a while, letting his breath catch up. Riddick mused silently over the dogged strength that was being shown, and then began to examine the fallen prisoner. He hadn't been given a head shot, and he was unable to discern age from the hand, the only skin he'd seen, and even that had been covered in scratches and blood from the fall. The hair had grown as long as the shoulder, dirty and tangled, and he could see the damp spots of blood. The uniform hung loosely over the body, leaving him to guess at a tall, thin body figure, like most prisoners.
The prisoner had managed to pull himself to his feet, another crack issuing from his midsection halting him halfway. His right leg dragged uselessly, and his right arm was pressed tightly to his side; clearly, he had landed on his ride side, damaging both the arm and leg, and probably the ribs, Riddick mused.
Once up, the prisoner stopped, breathing heavily and laying across the box, staying in that position for several moments.
Riddick felt his mind begin to wander, running the struggle, the fall, and the recovery through is mind. His imagination concocted several wild scenarios, giving the prisoner a different countenance each time. Riddick curbed his thoughts, letting a grin creep into his features. A wild, dangerous man that for some reason deserved to be thrown down below, into the dark where he had no chance of survival. Unless he could somehow pay for a similar surgery that Riddick himself had undergone, the Shiners would get him.
Riddick curbed his thoughts at the sudden movement from the box. The prisoner, pushing off with his left arm had turned himself completely around, shifting just the slightest so that he was facing Riddick.
So that she was facing Riddick.
Riddicks jaw dropped, eyes widening as the feminine features struck like a lightning bolt. It was a woman, approaching thirty, tired and pain filled eyes staring straight at him, tears leaving clean rivers of wetness on the dirt and blood smudged face. Her head titled to one side, she blinked against the pain coursing through her body, and she smiled.
Riddick stared, unmoving.
Then the woman sagged, her eyes rolling backwards as she collapsed in a heap, unconscious before she hit.
Riddick was up and moving across the short distance to her body instantly, kneeling next to her only a second after she'd fallen. He wasted only one moment, deciding quickly what he should do. And then he was up, moving quickly across the open compound with the lifeless woman in his arms, heading directly for the doctors he had just come from.
1.1 Chapter 2 coming soon…
---
All Pitch Black material copyrighted by the right people, all my material copyrighted me. Please R & R, and feel free to send any comments:
magz@charter.net
http://webpages.charter.net/noise
---
There was a struggle. Somewhere, high above him, the sounds of it wafting down the open floor to his ears. Riddick cocked his head upwards, peering through the darkness enshrouding him. He blinked rapidly, trying to focus his eyes. The pain had dulled to a low throb in the front of his brain, easing to a slight annoyance at his temples, which he currently rubbed furiously with his fingertips.
The struggle grew louder, and he saw shapes approaching the rail far above him, and across the open compound. They held a wriggling prisoner above their heads, struggling to keep a grip on him as they neared the drop. The prisoner renewed his struggles, fighting with all his strength to get free from his captors.
Riddick moved his eyes down to ground level, directly beneath the characters. There were several stacked boxes, filled with what he wasn't sure, but they were far enough out that they would end up being what broke his fall. Riddick blinked, straining his eyes to focus and pulled them back up several stories to the guards and the prisoner, barely in enough time to watch as he was tossed out over the railing.
He didn't scream. Arms and legs flailed uselessly in the air for the short three seconds it took to fall the five or six stories, and with a sickening crunch, land amid the boxes. The boxes seemed to explode from the sudden impact of the body, wood planks flying outwards every direction. Along with the pieces of broken wood came material, old discarded prisoner uniforms. Everything settled quickly, wood creaking as it fell still, and nothing moved. Several stories above, the guards laughed, sent down a few hearty good tidings, and disappeared back into the light.
Riddick grunted, leaning forward on his knees as he peered at the crash site. He couldn't discern the body, hidden as it was beneath the rubble. He leaned back, resting his head against the wall he sat against, the coldness a welcoming aid to the headache. He waited for upwards of a half hour, but there was no movement. Riddick had a few hours before he wanted to put his plan into action, and had nothing against calmly sitting here, letting his eyes and mind adjust to the new surgery. The pink and the purple shades of the crash site hadn't moved, save for the mouse he saw skitter his way fifteen minutes ago. Riddick closed his aching eyes, they screamed in relief, and let his self be lulled into a light slumber, something desperately needed.
An hour and fifteen minutes later, he was awakened at the sound of a slight groan. His eyes snapped open; they focused immediately, everything clear and precise, and easily discernable in the blackness. Riddick allowed himself a pleased grin. The headache had dulled to nothingness, and his eyes felt as they always had, but with the added extra of night sight.
From the crash site a white flash in his vision indicated movement. A plank fell from it's tilted perch to the ground, revealing a hand. Riddick watched as the fingers wiggled, searching for a hold, a point of leverage, leaving bloody fingerprints on the concrete. The hand found nothing, and the arm could move no further than a few inches before there was a gasp of pain from within the boxes and tangled material. The moving ceased for five minutes, Riddick stayed rooted to his spot and waited. He was surprised that the prisoner was alive at all, so far had the fall seemed and unforgiving his landing spot.
And then suddenly a rough, spasmodic jerk of the left arm, forcing off several planks of wood that pinned it down; there was a loud crack at the movement, coming from the shoulder of the prisoner. Another gasp of pain, but the arm didn't fall back. It groped outwards, fingers feeling at the floor. They found something to hold onto, a crack in the cement it looked to Riddick, and dug in. Then a kick, moving the left leg up and out for leverage. The prisoner pushed off the ground with his foot, at the same time pulling his upper body with his arm, and succeeded in pulling out from beneath the rubble, moving just enough to be clear of the discarded uniforms and the broken wood.
More silence, and still Riddick remained in his sitting position, content to watch how far the prisoner got. The heavy breathing dwindled down, calm breathing preceding over the hurting gasps. In another ten minutes, the prisoner moved again. Using his left arm to push up his torso, the prisoner managed to pull in his left leg and get into a half hazard kneeling position, with no weight at all on the right limbs. Gasping for breath again, he groped for the nearest box; shuffling the few inches he had to in order to grab a corner.
Riddick cocked his head, watching as the prisoner leaned that way for a while, letting his breath catch up. Riddick mused silently over the dogged strength that was being shown, and then began to examine the fallen prisoner. He hadn't been given a head shot, and he was unable to discern age from the hand, the only skin he'd seen, and even that had been covered in scratches and blood from the fall. The hair had grown as long as the shoulder, dirty and tangled, and he could see the damp spots of blood. The uniform hung loosely over the body, leaving him to guess at a tall, thin body figure, like most prisoners.
The prisoner had managed to pull himself to his feet, another crack issuing from his midsection halting him halfway. His right leg dragged uselessly, and his right arm was pressed tightly to his side; clearly, he had landed on his ride side, damaging both the arm and leg, and probably the ribs, Riddick mused.
Once up, the prisoner stopped, breathing heavily and laying across the box, staying in that position for several moments.
Riddick felt his mind begin to wander, running the struggle, the fall, and the recovery through is mind. His imagination concocted several wild scenarios, giving the prisoner a different countenance each time. Riddick curbed his thoughts, letting a grin creep into his features. A wild, dangerous man that for some reason deserved to be thrown down below, into the dark where he had no chance of survival. Unless he could somehow pay for a similar surgery that Riddick himself had undergone, the Shiners would get him.
Riddick curbed his thoughts at the sudden movement from the box. The prisoner, pushing off with his left arm had turned himself completely around, shifting just the slightest so that he was facing Riddick.
So that she was facing Riddick.
Riddicks jaw dropped, eyes widening as the feminine features struck like a lightning bolt. It was a woman, approaching thirty, tired and pain filled eyes staring straight at him, tears leaving clean rivers of wetness on the dirt and blood smudged face. Her head titled to one side, she blinked against the pain coursing through her body, and she smiled.
Riddick stared, unmoving.
Then the woman sagged, her eyes rolling backwards as she collapsed in a heap, unconscious before she hit.
Riddick was up and moving across the short distance to her body instantly, kneeling next to her only a second after she'd fallen. He wasted only one moment, deciding quickly what he should do. And then he was up, moving quickly across the open compound with the lifeless woman in his arms, heading directly for the doctors he had just come from.
1.1 Chapter 2 coming soon…