Author: L
Fandom: Pitch Black / Vin Diesel
Rating: R (language, violence)
Disclaimer: No harm intended. I'm not making a dime!
Note: A trip into the Rice/ian world of the Immortals. Non cannon character.
Feedback: Always welcome
**********
Light fell away into darkness, all encompassing. The ozone humming street
lights were left behind in favor of following his quarry. The man was
sickeningly easy to track, to stalk, so he drew out the night's hunt
pulling
every ounce of pleasure he could from the mundane exercise. This was
the
first job Riddick had taken since hitting an actual inhabited planet,
inhabited by humans that is. Usually this sort of thing was carried
out in
the name of survival, sometimes pleasure. More and more he found it
was both,
particularly where Slam had been concerned. The job had been commissioned
anonymously, a single envelope arriving at the small dilapidated apartment
he
shared with Jack and the holy man, Imam. Simple thickly embossed initials
lined the front of the envelope and inside where instructions and more
company credits than he'd ever seen. Now, as the night wound out towards
dawn, he had maybe three hour before the light of day would drive him
inside,
eyes far to sensitive to tolerate natural light. Standing in the alley
way
his senses fully alert he scanned the shadows for his target, shive
in hand,
he was ready to send his victim into eternal night.
Lets do this! Show yourself!
Too late he would realize this was the wrong night, the wrong alley,
the
wrong mark. In a sudden flash he found himself face down in a stagnate
puddle, shive skittering off into the black abyss of the ally. "What
the
fuck...." he growled, rolling onto his back.
"Ummm, such vulgar language."
The shadow detached from the building near where he lay, having retreated
after what was for the most part was a gentle shove. Circling the downed
man,
the new predator allowed Riddick to gain his footing. "I have to admit
to
liking that in an adversary or pupil, whatever the case maybe."
"Adversary? Definately. Pupil? What is it you think you can teach me?"
Riddick laughed, low and menacing.
"I, dear boy, can teach you to embrace the artistry of a deeper purpose.
Open your true eyes to the world around you. Allow you to savor that
which
you enjoy the most." The figure came closer and Riddick glimpsed
his first
real look at the man. No more than 30, tall, slim build, pale, to pale.
The
color of death, he mused.
"And why would I need YOU to teach me these things? What makes you
think........."
He struck like a cobra stretching for his prey, but was met with only
empty
air and a fire storm of pain across his chest. Glancing down, he saw
three
neatly executed lacerations across the hard wall of muscles below his
T-shirt. A low moan came from the man behind him. Swinging around
he stared,
eyes narrowed.
"You smell heavenly, Richard. Good enough to eat, in fact." High,
almost
feminine laughter accompanied the comment.
"You're a heart beat away from being a ghost, sonofbitch," Riddick growled,
as they paced one another, circling.
"If you feel you need to fight me, you're welcomed to try. But I assure
you,
you'll not win." Another pin prick of laughter filled the space between
them.
"You do not know......."
"Know who I'm fucking with?" He dodged Riddick's charge with an
unearthly
grace, too quick, too devoid of real motion. In the next instant he
pounced,
taking Riddick to the ground, twisting him around to meet the mocking
face of
humanity. "Oh, but I would, I know you almost as well as you
know yourself."
"No reason for you to lie....."
Riddick struggled against the single hand, fingers splayed, exerting
an
immoblizing pressure against his chest.
"You're absolutely right, Richard. There isn't a single reason to lie.
Not
after five hundred years of watching humans degenerate into graceless
purposeless slugs with no more originality than the herd animals they
were
once so fond of consuming. That's why I shall indulge you in a little
tale."
Thin opaque lips twisted in a semblence of a smile.
"Fuck you!" Riddick barked in response.
"Oh, what a delicious offer. But quite impossible I'm afraid. However,
if it
were, rest assured I would seduce you and you WOULD come to my bed
willingly." He leveled a stare at Riddick that reached into the center
of his
brain, swiping everything one would ever want to know about the murderer.
"So it is, the only lust I suffer from, sweet boy, is blood. Not so
different
from you really."
"Get on with it!" Riddick lay pinned to the ground, tired of listening
to
the sharp grating french voice above him. If it was death looming there
he
wanted it fast, wanted it done. But the french prick seemed intent
on talking
him to death.
"Patience. Patience." He raised the hand that pinned Riddick to the
hard
pavement. The tip of his tongue slithered from the hollowed mouth to
lap at
the blood covering his fingers, relishing the metalic taste, eyes closing
in
a euphoric rush. Riddick siezed the oppurtunity to push himself off
the
ground, only to be slammed back down with the opposite hand.
"Richard Riddick, you wouldn't be thinking of running now would you?"
"Hadn't planned on it. I have a job to finish first," he sneered, wanting
to
grab the mane of raven hair above and use as leverage to snap the vertebrae
in the bastards neck.
"And you think you're so intelligent." Nose to nose, the man hovered
over
him, exerting more pressure on his rib cage. "You think it's
a conincidence
you found me so easily tonight? In THIS alley?" He reached up and ran
a razor
sharp nail over Riddick's lower lip. "The envelope? The credits? I
set you
up, Richard. You would have never glimpsed me if I hadn't allowed it."
He
lapped at the blood ozzing down Riddick's chin.
"Get the fuck off me you bastard," he ground out, trying to twist away
from
the tongue practically suckling at his chin.
"The name is......" a low laugh rumbled between them ... "Vetal."
"Makes no difference to me."
"Oh, it will." Putting space between them, he stared down at the man
he'd
made a point of knowing, intimately. "Now look, you've distracted me
and I
promised you a tale."
"Spare me your goddamn fairy tale!" Riddick spat, voice filled with
deadly
venom.
"Can't do that, mon amour. Then you'd understand nothing. So,
lets see.
Where should I begin?" Vetal tilted his head in thought. "Ahhh, at
the
beginning of course. Your beginning, Richard." A slow languid
sigh filled
the night around them. "I watched your birth, mon amour. Watched you
enter
the world. Your mother, so young and barely even conscious. I did her
a
favor, really. She would have bled to death anyway in that ally."
He smiled
knowing , no matter how hard the other man fought it, he'd captured
his
attention. Nocturnal eyes travled the perimeter of the alley way before
coming to light on Riddick's luminous eyes, similiar but not exact
to his
own. "Not at all unlike this alley. Thorougly amusing how life can
begin and
end in such filth and decay. But again, I stray. Her body was easily
reduced
to nothing, not even bone remained. I musn't take credit for that,
our
parasitic little brethren handle such details. But you needn't worry
yourself
with such details just yet."
"There's only one detail I'm concerned with......"
"Yes. Yes. I know...killing me. There is a little secret to that too,
but
we'll save that for dessert. Where was I? Oh, of course. I actually
held you
in my hands. Still warm from your mother's womb, struggling to breathe,
that
dreadful blue tint creeping over your skin. I was poised to take your
pitiful
life then, Richard, mon amour. But a terrible thing occured. Something
uncharacteristically vile, most distrubing indeed ... compassion."
Vatel
snorted in disgust, glaring at his prey. "I tossed you into the
refuse bin.
A thought was all it took." He tapped his own forehead. "A mear
thought
saved your life. They came running to rescue the poor abandon infant.
If only
they knew what they were saving."
"Liar!"
"No, there's no need. You know, I decided then and there to do
something
I've never bothered to do with a human. Watch. I've watched your whole
life,
Richard. Always a step behind you, looking over your shoulder. I witnessed
your first kill, your second, third, like a proud father. And I must
say,
dispatching Johns was simply inspiring."
"You couldn't know about Johns." Riddick smiled viscously, thinking
he had
come up with a flaw in the man's story.
"Wrong again, mon amour. What I did not directly witness, your mind
provided
the rest. There is something I simply can't understand. Why did
you spare
the girl. Jack, isn't it? Why bother? Johns point was a valid one.
And for a
human, Johns did mount an admirable defense ... but it simply paled
in
comparison." He tilted his head studying the angles and planes of Riddick's
face."Beautiful, oscura belleza," he sighed, just barely managing to
shake
the spell he fell under. "So, now we come to the end of our tale
at the same
point we began, always the alley." He moved over Riddick again.
"Johns was a evil sadistic bastard. He deserved to die." Riddick began
struggling with a renewed intensity. Something was about to go down,
something far worse than death. He could feel it, smell it.
"Agreed. But what make you so different than him?" A wide knowing smiled
tugging his lips up in a monstrous smile. It was then that Riddick
saw them,
stared unbelieving at the sharp spiked fangs. "Like all good
children,
Richard ... it's time to come home." There was a flash of movement
before the
explosion in his neck, skin and muscle gave way to hot streaming blood.
The
slurping sound was the last thing he heard, the last thing before he
tumbled
towards the waiting arms of death.
************
Almost dawn! Can't stand it!
Riddick pulled his hands away from his face long enough to glance around
him,
trying to gain his barings. It was an impossiblity. Giving up,
he simply
wandered, sick, mind and body. Without knowing exactly when, he became
a
creature of instinct ready to feed. The figure ahead, searching the
street,
became the object of his nourishment.
"Why stay away this long?" he heard the voice, feminine, young. Just
for the
briefest second he thought the voice sounded familiar. But that was
just a
trick of the night, had to be. He waited until the girl's attention
was soley
on the oppositite side of the street. To his horrific amazement, he
moved
with a thought. Think it and it was done. He was behind her, silent
...
waiting. Just as she was about to turn he grabbed her around the head,
tilting her neck up to the perfect angle. Penetration, quick, and deep.
He
sucked at the pulsing artery raviously.
"Riddick?"
He head his name whispered, and now he knew that voice, knew it a moment
too
late to save her this time. He eased to the ground with her in his
arms.
Staring in morbid fascination. Why wasn't he angry? Why wasn't he sorry?
He
had loved her in his own warped way hadn't he? Then there was the other
voice, urging him on, trying to impose its will.
"Finish it! Create new life, Richard! You have that power! Breath life
into
my legions!" The voice was a shrill scream in his head, demented,
manic. "I
HAVE chosen well! You can make our kind gods! JUST DO IT!"
Jack's agonized face filled his vision pulling forth that newly banished
human side of him that still thrashed about for life. He had his answer,
knew
what he would do. He was an abomination now in the truest sense
of the word
but she never would be. He would make certain of that. Opening his
mouth, the
hollowed pikes just past his lips turned towards the light ripped sky.
"NO!"
FINI