I was writing another story and wondered suddenly what happened to that merc that Riddick left unconscious in the guard room. Maybe a one-shot, I don't know. I don't want to add installments if there's no hope for her, so there's your motivation to review, y'all. If you can think of someplace for this to go, I'm completely open to suggestions, as well as, of course, any improvements you think I can make to what I already have.

As always, I don't own anything or anybody.

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The pain came first, drifting in and swallowing her like hot mud. She slugged into an unstable consciousness, but after all that fight to open her eyes, she wished she hadn't bothered. At first uncomprehending, her cracked eyes focused on the dark looming figure of the most dangerous man in the universe. Fuck…

She had to react, at the very least get away, find the crew, break wide through the tunnel, maybe there was still time. But her muscles didn't react, they stayed ultra-gravitated to the floor as if the command to reach for her gun had never been. Her guns weren't even there, she remembered. She had pulled them already, and now they're gone. Riddick's killer hands came closer, and she mustered every gram of energy to at least verbally challenge. ( gain control of the situation maybe I can survive this ) But even the fierce words were lost, and all her screaming abdomen could manage was

"'You gonna kill me?"

And as she asked, the woman found she didn't even care. This quiet can only mean one thing: there's no such thing as the crew anymore. It's an apt question after all, it's all over, whoever's getting a hold of that ship, it ain't gonna be her. It would be nice, almost, to hear Him answer in the affirmative. It would be a mercy, to die now rather than live the future she saw through her dimmed eyes. Anything, anything but that. The killing hands reached closer and passed beyond her vision.

But he only took the cuff keys from her belt. He focused on his wrists and turned the slightest bit away from her, dismissively. Riddick hadn't expected to find anyone alive here, but it would be empty satisfaction to kill the fucking she-merc. She's broken now, wounded and abandoned amongst the worst incarcerated convicts in the universe. It would be a mercy to kill her now, in other words, a waste of fucking time. He dropped the cuffs at her feet and moved on to bigger matters. Kyra.

In complete horrified despair, she tumbled back into unconsciousness, chased down by the pain of her wounds and the thought of being left here to die or worse, to live. To be here, forever. A lone female merc in the worst prison in existence. Oh god… She drowned through deep, desperate nightmares for what felt like all time, like there was never anything else, she was always about to be butchered since the beginning of time. But the sounds were getting louder, and despite her wish to just sleep here, survival instinct kicked in and dragged her awake again.

The first thing she consciously heard was herself, despite any effort to stay quiet, her body refused to obey and stop moaning. But her concentration on her own vocal chords was broken when she realized that it was not her own noise that woke her. Riddick was gone, dawn was coming, and the inmates below were drawing the courage to come up. Her eyes darted fearfully and she started making small scared sounds of desperation. The woman wrestled with her unwilling muscles, forcing them against the throbbing pain to move. She dragged herself excruciatingly slowly from the support beam she had collapsed against towards the guards' quarters. She could only hope that she could lock the doors. Hell, it's a stretch to hope she can move that far. Her entire front dragged painfully over glass and metal, but she hardly noticed over the sick shivering pain of her screaming muscles. The men outside had made it closer, but without any leadership, the rats were wary of crossing the line into the guards' territory. She pushed desperately with her legs and pulled on the doorframe, dragging herself the last quarter meter. ( not much time if they see me I'm gone ah, god it hurts ) Suddenly she thought of Victor, how he turned to her at the door of the ship and told her, you don't want this. This job will take your life, and then it'll kill you. He gave her a chance, her final chance to walk out. She remembered her overconfident laugh, how she pushed past him into the sterile, brutal life she'd chosen. And now here she was, straining every screaming muscle to force the unautomated door closed before the inmates turned the corner.