Title: Better Off Alone
Author: Onyx Wildcat
Fandom: Riddick
Rating: R for Language
Characters: Riddick
Chapter: One Shot
Disclaimer: I do not own Riddick or anything else pertaining to the Riddick Universe. This is merely for entertaining the masses of sillies that are as bad as me.
Summary: Riddick, after TCOR, decides to write his thoughts down...
Archive: No.
Feedback: Oh yes I would seriously love it!!
Onyx's Note: This is definitely something different for me. This suddenly came out of me, don't know why exactly. Maybe it has to do with a dream I had last night that actually involved the real Big Bad Himself. Guess my Muse is back and closer then he ever was before. On that note, I think my Muse really wanted me to share this...piece of Big Bad's thoughts with you. Again, different from what I've written before...and I think you'll find it as interesting as I did after I read it over. And as always, enjoy!

-OPEN LOG-

-TO BEGIN ENTER SIX DIGIT ACCESS CODE-

-ANALYZING ACCESS CODE-

-ACCESS GRANTED-

-BEGIN TRANSMISSION-

Been a while since I've made any attempt to rejoin the living. Don't know why I came back in the first place. Never been my choice really. As if I ever had a say in this fucked up existence. If bad luck was a virus, I'd have to say I'm it's host. Everything I've ever loved, everything I've ever touched and wanted as my own…all gone. And for what? To be some kind of fucking example? An insignificant soul chosen by the gods, or the fates, or whoever the fuck is up their, just to play Russian roulette with my life just to see how I'll survive? Oh yea, I'm all kinds of lucky. People don't do anything for me anymore…and honestly, I'm better off without'em. Don't need the burden of guilt weighin' down on my shoulders when the universe is against me. I also don't need the drama either. Better off alone. Doesn't matter how lonely I may get at times, surviving comes first, emotions be damned. They're useless anyway. Emotions, feelings, those stupid fucking butterflies fluttering in your stomach like they've been fed a shit load of caffeine when you find yourself melting over a pretty face. And the next thing you know, you get shit on, dropped on your ass and left with more scars than you started out with. Not my idea of a good time. Guess that explains why I'm a bachelor. Even just the thought of having a woman in my life, if I can call it that, makes me laugh. It ain't gonna happen, not as long as I'm still alive. And since everyday is like my last, I'm going to keep it that way. Women just weigh you down, leave you defenseless, make you weak. A weakness is a better term for it. I don't have anything against women, hell I fully and completely admire them…from far away. If I could, I would gladly keep a woman by my side. But seeing as my life will never be all babies in the carriage and picket fences, I'm better off alone.

Now, here I am, sitting in my ship, piece of shit that it is and writing my thoughts into a log I decided to start. Not sure why really, more of a release of thoughts so I don't start answering myself when I think out loud. That's the last thing I need. To finally snap and lose what's left of my sanity. They already think I'm this psycho fucked killer. Killing was just in self defense, and the crazy part? I guess they'll never understand the true art of having some kind of sense of humor, no matter how dark it is. Doesn't matter. They don't matter. Nothin' but a bunch of fuckin' bottom feeders kissin' ass just tryin' to get to the top of the food chain. These Mercs and their guns, thinkin' they're tough shit, actin' like bustin' balls is an everyday occurrence. No honor with these motha-fuckas. No sense of pride or decency. Never givin' two shits about anyone else's well-being but their own. Out for the money, out for the power. Stupid fucks. If these nickel slick fake badges had any ounce of intelligence, they'd have learned a long time ago that I'm not even worth the effort. That's IF they were smart, which in most cases, they're about as bright as a cockroach. I shouldn't be mean…at least roaches are hygienically friendly.

I don't know what it was that got me thinking…and I mean really thinking. Haven't really let myself, seeing as I'm always runnin' from something. No rest for the wicked. I don't get it. It almost feels like there's someone with me, unseen, but there…whispering to me. I can almost hear the words sometimes. Doesn't make any sense. I know I'm not going crazy. Sometimes I can make out the voice, familiar for a moment and as soon as I'm close to pinpointing it…silence. Whoever or whatever the fuck it is needs to either shit or get off the pot. Simply put, just fuckin' show yourself. It gets old after awhile. But there is something I've noticed…it's leading me somewhere. As though it's sending me toward a destination. For what? I've got nothing. Lost my humanity with the last tear that trickled away from her dead eyes. She was the only thing that gave me purpose. Now, along with everything else, she's gone. Fuckin' ripped away from me. And for what? To be some Lord Marshal? Fuck that! I'm not a leader, never asked for that kind of responsibility.

I left Hellion Prime. I needed to get away. Bounty's off my head, but I can still feel them out there like sharks in the water trailing me. Just for a cheap thrill, just so they can brag about how they managed to bag Richard B. Riddick. Fuckin' parasites. See what I mean? No intelligence. No sense of style either. Hell, I hope I find a few…for anger management purposes, of course.

I'll probably go back to Hellion Prime when the time is right. Told those Necro fucks to clean their act up and make good on rebuilding what they've destroyed. Starting with Hellion Prime. Left them nice and busy while I get my head straight. Aereon, that air elemental…offered to stay and watch things progress. Left her my contact incase she needs to report anything. Nothing so far, must mean things are going well. It's odd to think about it… A man with no family, nothing but a name, a reputation and the clothes on his back…becoming the leader of an incredibly powerful army. Again with the bad luck. I just wanted to be left alone. But of course, when it comes to living in the universe I currently occupy, nothing is ever the way you want it. I'm not used to it. Any of it. I was offered luxury, power, women…everything and anything. It was all laid out before me. And what do I go and do? Find the first piece of shit star jumper and break orbit just so I can be alone. I need my space…and some time to mourn. There's a lot to make up for, a lot of all wounds to try and patch up. But sometimes…even in the deepest trenches of space…it's better to leave it all alone. Just let the darkness surround me and calm these old bones.

Better off alone…yea, that's me.

R.B. Riddick

-END TRANSMISSION-

-LOG CLOSED-