Dark Love, Dark Life

Okay, summary: The Necros have a way of bringing Kyra back to life, through a process called the Soul Transfer, where a passing soul is given a brand new body, usually a baby. The catch: the woman chosen to have said baby for Kyra's soul to take has to get married, fucked, and knocked up by our favorite cold-blooded killer, all the while teaching him to be the new Lord Marshall of the Necromongers. Oh, what fun.

Chapter One

Hope, a Daughter, and a Wife?!

Kyra was dead.

The girl that he had watched over from a distance since she was eleven, the girl he had rescued from both a monster-ridden planet of darkness and from a hellish pit of a prison Slam, was dead. He'd seen her die, seen her hurtle through the air from a vicious backhand, seen her hit the sharp spikes with bone crunching force. He had stared into her eyes, and she'd looked back into his shined ones, and he knew that she knew she was going to die.

When he had killed the man who'd done it, the Lord Marshall of the Necromongers, he'd gone to her side and held her in his arms. Unlike Imam, who had died alone and unaided, he had held his Kyra in his arms and spoken to her in the gentlest voice he'd ever used.

"Are you with me, Kyra?" He'd asked her, his voice tender. She'd smiled, put her hand to the side of his face. He had felt the hot tears coursing down his cheeks, but he hadn't cares.

"I was always with you, Riddick. Always." And with that, he'd seen Kyra, his lovely, precious Kyra, finally give up her hold on life. She had died in his arms after he had spent seven years trying to keep her safe.

She died.

She was dead.

He laid her down gently on the steps leading up to the throne of the Lord Marshall, and collapsed onto the large, golden throne, exhausted. He gave up.

Riddick.

Gave.

Up.

Caroline, the first woman he'd ever loved, was long dead; Imam, one of his only friends, was dead weeks ago; Now Kyra, his darling Kyra, who had been like a sweet little sister to him, laid there upon the steps, newly dead. He was out of people his enemies could kill. And he decided suddenly that he didn't care if the Necros killed him. It was all pointless, anyway.

The Necros bowed to him, and Lord Vokko murmured, "You keep what you kill." Did that mean he was the leader, now, of the Necros? He didn't give a shit. Kyra was dead. "My Lord Marshall," Vokko caught his attention, "if the girl's death is what makes you so... despondent, we can bring her back. Her soul has not yet departed." He stared at Vokko, and felt inside himself the seed of hope start to germinate.

"How?"

"Soul transfer. I can speak with you in private if that is your wish." Riddick nodded, trying to keep his outer façade of calm. When Vokko led him to his own suite of rooms, and he came face to face with the Commander and his gorgeous wife, he struck a bored attitude.

"Well?"

"We have Necromongers, young women, called Black Widows. They are adept in the handling of souls and other such intangibles. They are mistresses of a process called soul transfer, where a soul of one dead is passed to a soulless body. Usually, an unborn child." Riddick looked at Vokko, unsure if he was hearing right.

"So, one of these girls can take Kyra's soul into her body, and pass it onto their kid?"

"That's about it, yes."

"And Kyra would be born..."

"With all of her memories." Dame Vokko supplied. "She would be one we call an Old Soul, one who has the memories of a past life. She would be the daughter of the Black Widow."

"How do I fit into this? Do I have to do anything for this to work?" The couple exchanged a glance, and Vokko began to walk out of the room.

"My wife knows more about this than I, Lord Marshall. You should direct your questions to her." And with that, the Necro was gone. Riddick turned back to Dame Vokko, his expression saying, "Well?" The dark skinned woman smiled.

"Kyra would be born as your daughter, my Lord. You must bed the Widow chosen, and pick her to be your wife."

"What!?"

"It is the law of the Necromonger, and even the Lord Marshall cannot change that. You must do this if you wish to see your Kyra ever again. You loved her, but you weren't in love with her, were you?"

Riddick shook his head. Kyra was more like his little sister. It had never gone past that.

"Then, what is the problem?"

Riddick sighed, and began pacing. Basically, in order to save his Kyra, he had to get married. Marriage? That was... that was bad. He could handle Merks coming after him, he could handle armies of death, but marriage... the thought made him shudder. He was not a social person.

"You have not even met the Black Widows, my Lord. Some of them are... right up your alley. You will like them, and you may even come to love one of them." He doubted it. "Well, since you do not seem interested, I'll tell the servants to prepare young Kyra for her funeral-"

"No. Fine, I'll do it. Show me these women."

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The women were nervous. The new Lord Marshall was going to pick one of them to be his Bride! Who would he choose? They were whispering among themselves when the man called Riddick stepped through the door, flanked by Dame and Lord Vokko. As one, they rose and then went down on one knee before their lord.

Oh, he's attractive.

That was Raevyn, the Black Widow Queen. Well, the most powerful of the Black Widow Queens, anyway. Who would make a suitable mate for this... Riddick?

Raevyn stood and went to embrace Dame Vokko.

"My Lord Marshall, this is my sister, the Black Widow and Queen known as Raevyn. Sister, this is the Lord Marshall, Riddick."

She nodded in his direction, looking him over. He was tall and well muscled, strong. His face was cold and emotionless, but she sensed a deep well of untapped love. The capability to love, as it were. Black goggles shielded his eyes. She wondered the reason for that.

"Who do you think would make me a good woman?" He asked, arching an eyebrow at her. Raevyn was not intimidated, and asked him, "What kind of a woman are you looking for?"

"She has to have a sense of humor, and she has to be pretty."

"There are no ugly Black Widows. Good looks run in our genes. Bio-engineering has its points."

"As for a sense of humor," said one, and Riddick turned to her, "do you want a woman that tells a quiet, polite joke, or the kind of joke that will make a man tremble, or a joke so bawdy it will make your cheeks burn?"

At that, Riddick laughed. "What's your name?" He asked the pale woman. Her eyes were ice blue, and her white hair was spiked to look like sculpted ice. She was strong looking, and she had a sparkle of sass in those pale blue eyes of hers.

"Karla Frost. But I'm not what you're looking for."

"At least you're honest. I want a woman who's strong, level headed, who can take care of herself. I can't be rescuing you all the fucking time. And you have to be able to handle a variety of weapons. Guns, blades, knives, crossbows-"

"Spears?" Asked one Widow, grinning as she rested her gaze below Riddick's belt. He laughed again. He liked these girls.

"Those, too. And you are?"

"Faye Morrigan." She tossed her full head of curly, auburn hair. "What about women who can stand up to you?"

"If one of you can handle my temper, as well as meet all that other shit, you're the one. Who can do all that?"

Faye and Karla immediately sat down again, along with several of the other women. By the time each woman had decided whether she could do that or not, there was only one of them left standing.

"Well, you're a pretty one. And you are?"

"My name is Sryope Helicon. But everyone just calls me Rya."

The girl's hair was long and wavy, hanging almost down to her butt, a deep auburn with a streak of white and a streak of green, one on each side of her face. Her eyes were a deep, dark, emerald green, set in a face pale as alabaster. Her lips were very red, and Riddick thought he wouldn't mind kissing a mouth that full and luscious looking. She was curvy, with shapely legs, nice hips, a slender waist, and very full breasts. She was showing off her body in a tight body suit of hunter green silk. Around her neck was a green jewel set in a gold pendant.

"I don't want a mindless zombie of a Necromonger, just so you know." He said, looking her up and down. She really did have a nice body, and he might as well enjoy this since he had to do it. He circled her as he started to speak again.

"Can you fight?" She nodded.

"Can you handle yourself against several opponents? Can you fight in the dark?" This was asked mockingly, and he was surprised when she smirked and nodded.

"Can you pilot a ship? Can you get out of a tight spot in a hurry?" Again, the nod. Still he circled her. "You might do."

Irritation suddenly crossed her face. "What?! What are you circling me for? What, were you a vulture in another life or something? Mother Night!" She didn't like scrutiny. Hmmm.

"Can you face me in a fight?"

"Possibly."

"The odds?"

"That I'll kill you by accident."

"How would you manage that? You're unarmed."

"With this." She held up her right hand, and turned it over, palm up. Underneath her dark green nails- more like talons- was something white and shiny. It went halfway up the underside of her fingernails, but then she flexed a muscle in her hand and they popped out, like unsheathed cat claws. Something amber colored dripped once from the tip of the thing and hit the floor, burning through it like acid.

"Black Widows have what we call snake teethe under our nails. The poison in them, depending on our moods, is extremely lethal. If I were to get mad, and scratch you with this, it would kill you, unless Raevyn decided to do a Healing and fix you up. So, I'd rather not risk killing you. Not that I might not do it later, but... you know."

"You're the one. I like you."

She arched an eyebrow.

"Sryope Helicon," Riddick said in a mocking, grandiose voice, "I choose you to be my Bride." The way he said it made her laugh. She nodded in acceptance, murmuring, "Sure, why not?"

"Come," Dame Vokko ordered kindly, "we must see to the soul transfer." Riddick watched Rya walk away with the wife of Commander Vokko, followed by all of the other Black Widows, save thirteen young ones. The Commander approached Riddick, who turned to him, muttering, "What?"

"Rya. A good choice, my Lord."

"Quit with this 'my Lord' stuff, it's fucked up. You call me Riddick. Everyone else, just call me 'sir.' Got it?" Vokko nodded. "What's your name?"

"Daemon, sir. I mean, Riddick." The new Lord Marshall then turned towards the remaining thirteen Black Widows. The ones who hadn't followed the Dame all looked to be about ten or eleven, except one, who looked fifteen. They wore black pendants shaped like hourglasses, and in the pendants were gold dust, half of it locked in the bottom and the other half sealed in the top.

"These," Daemon explained, "are Journeymaid Black Widows. They are not strong enough to aid in the Soul Transfer in any other way but through meditation. We have no Novices."

"Why not?" Riddick asked quietly. He found all of this strangely fascinating.

"None have been born to us, nor have any been found on the worlds we have conquered. Save this world, that is."

"Oh?"

"A little Arab girl, by the name of Ziza. We found her crouched over her mother's body, sobbing. We knocked her out and took her to the ship. She is in Rya's quarters, actually."

"Take me to her. I want to see this girl." Daemon led the outlaw towards the suite of rooms belonging to Sryope. Riddick followed, slightly dazed.

As of now, he had a wife.

A wife.

He felt very odd about that. Sure, Sryope was pretty- beautiful, in fact- but still, he was married to this woman now. Oh, well, he might as well take advantage of it and take up the opportunity of free sex.

He had a wife. Jesus Christ.

oo8oo8oo8oo
So, how was that? First chapter, and it only took me a day. Riddick's getting married. Oh, my gosh, how did they get him to go along with that, do you think? And do you think he'll ever actually love Sryope? Hmmm... Oh, Ziza is Imam's daughter, for those who don't remember. She will play an important part later on. Please, R/R, this is my first (well, second written, but first posted) Pitch Black/Chronicles of Riddick fanfic. Please, R/R! Toodles,

Serena 11 (aka LA Knight- Serena 11 is my old penname)

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Disclaimers: Anything anyone recognizes from anything (I brought in elements from this book series I like, called "The Black Jewels" trilogy) I don't own. Sryope, though my own character, is actually the namesake of the Muse, Sryope.
Pronunciation: Sryope Sree-oh-pay Rya Ree-yuh
She was not one of the Nine Muses of Mount Helicon, but the daughter of Thalia, Muse of Comedy, and Apollo, god of the sun.