Dehctiws
Abby Ebon
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Disclaimer: Don't own anything – not Buffy, not Harry Potter, not Pitch Black or Chronicles of Riddick.
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-Riddick's POV-
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It's a ghost town. Death has been here. Everything is dead; dead gardens, upended furniture- chairs, and broken skylights. Death surprised them, and they ran. It's easy to follow where they went, the destruction leads to it.
This is a dry planet, yet dried mud and blood coats the windows and walls.
They trail behind me, a child of the holy man, and Jack. Or should I say Xander. It's interesting that I believe Harry, when I've never really trusted anyone- man or woman, as much as I do Harry.
It's almost instinct.
Specking of instinct, I'm being followed. I kneel, digging in the dirt to where the destruction leads. It's a windowless building, tall. Perfect for a hiding spot...Did they hide here from death? Did any one of them survive?
Will anyone of us?
I intend to, and unlike the rest of these fools, I know that that skiff was all they had. There are no signs of any other type of ship. No signs of other types of fuel.
I uncover a broken pair of glasses- shattered light. I wonder who they belonged to. Harry wares glasses. So does Paris. I unearth a child's tin robot next. They, whoever they were, died here- their children with them. Solar powered.
Has mud on the solar panel. I thumb off the dirt. With these types of toys, there is a possibility of a message being recorded by adult or child. I press a button, it warbles, and then the language kicks in.
"…to all intruders. I am the guardian of this land. I will protect my masters at all cost. Death to all intruders…"
Chilling….
I swallow, standing; it's not a friendly message. It's disturbing to hear such a message from a child's toy. I try the doors, locked still. I feel morbid, and perhaps after hiding from the danger… they could not get out.
A small glass window, mud covered; on the door is the only way to see inside, I peer in. No sign of life. No twisted mummy face, carved forever in a mask of the terror of death that once walked here.
No skeletons. I'm almost surprised. Could have sworn something moved in there.
I swipe at some of the windblown dirt off the sign. "Coring Room" it says. More like Tomb Room.
"Missin' the party. C'mon." Johns calls from the skiff. He's keeping me on a short leash, damn him, deal or no deal I'll have his blood in the end. In a fit of fury, I kick a near by trash bin, hard; where Jack is hiding.
"Missin' the party. C'mon." I leave. I expected the kids, Jack and the holy mans youngster, to follow- they didn't.
I hear Jack whisper; "Talkin' to me?" I don't respond. I heard 'her' hurried steps follow after me.
I should have insisted both of them follow.
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-Xander's POV-
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The holy men give thanks to his gods; I'm a bit miffed that they give Riddick the last bit, the part with sediment at the bottom. Harry doesn't seem all that thirsty, he gives his to Riddick and goes off, I'm almost tempted to follow, but Riddick scowls at me, and I don't.
"Perhaps we should toast our hosts. Who were these people anyway? Miners?" Paris asks, Shazza tilts her head, looking around the place again.
"Looks like geologists. Advance team, moves from rock to rock." Shazza says, flicking some hair out of her face.
"Musta crapped out here, huh?" Johns murmured a grim bit of amusement. High time these people started thinking.
"But why did they leave their ship?" I ask, trying for a confused look. Riddick looks proud. I try not to blush. There is silence; it's not something they wanted to think about, well, they are now.
I notice Imam notices the last unclaimed water glass. My heart sinks…
"Well, it's just a skiff. Disposable really." Johns answers. Always has an easy answer for everything don'cha, Johns?
"Like an emergency life-raft, right?" Paris adds, they don't seem to notice that this is an emergency-type planet. You wouldn't leave something like this behind for the next guy if you could help yourself.
"Sure. Coulda had a real drop-ship take them off planet. Long gone." Shazza hits on something, but skims over it, the rest ignore it. They're ready to accept that they never died, that nothing happened here. I look to Riddick, his expression is darkening.
"A toast to their ghosts then..." Paris says, glasses of water rise, Riddick puts his down.
"Didn't leave, these people. Whatever got Zeke got them. They're all dead." Riddick says, at their startled expressions, he snorts. "What, you don't really think they left with their clothes on the lines? Photos on the walls?" Riddick finishes, they look uneasy. Like a bunch of sheep told their going to be facing wolves in the night.
I wonder how I'm gonna explain demons to these people.
"Maybe they had weight limits, you don't know." Shazza spoke, so hopeful it was painful.
"I know you don't uncrate your emergency ship unless there's a fucking emergency." Riddick's answer is harsh- but very true. Their starting to think, finally! Then like a brick wall Johns crashes down.
"Rag it, Riddick. Nobody wants your theories on –" Johns begins, Riddick interrupts before he can pull the wool over their eyes. "So what happened? Where are they, then?" Riddick insists.
Fry pales, smart girl she's seeing how things might be, painting it rosy red, but still thinking on it. It's something, more then I've gotten. I guess when a murderer talk's people listen more closely then when it's some helpless kid.
At the window, Imam scans outside; I remember the last water cup.
"Has anyone seen the young one? Ali?" Imam asks, they look startled, hadn't noticed one lost holy-man, eh? Riddick looks up.
"Has anyone checked the coring room?"
Gods, it was just a bit of fun- how could things have gone so wrong?
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-Harry's POV-
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I left them to their water, I felt…something. Empathy is a magic that works when it wills to. As the others gathered to drink water, I felt it pull me away from them. I followed it. Dozens of little whispers, small, excited, hungry.
I slipped into a small space; I didn't know what I was doing- or how. Not really, I just had to…find the whispers.
I found myself in a drill room, the boy, Ali, stood a little ways in front of me. The rafters were opening, dark clumps shifted away from the lights, I realized them what I was looking at.
The shadow-creatures, Ali stepped back, against me, and twisted around to see me. His eyes widened. The creatures whispered, angry, and with a great clicking and rustling the creatures moved as a horde, toward us.
Ali screeched, and I moved my wings around the both of us, bracing for the pain- it wasn't enough. They had scented my blood, and as Ali clung to me, I bit into my lip to stop from screaming in pain. Thousands of them were slicing through my feathers to get to my flesh and blood.
We clung to each other, Ali mumbling prayers against my shoulder, he shook in my arms.
I felt the sunlight from the rafters spill upon us. The clicks and cries of the monsters died. My wings shuddered to move, but I willed them open. Ali smiled up at me, his savior. I remember Ginny giving me a similar smile. I smiled back- slowly.
Pained, I think something in my expression gave my pain away. Ali stopped smiling, frowning, and touched a bloodied feather from his shoulder, then looked quickly to me. I moaned, softly, gods it hurt.
I sunk to the ground, shaking- curling into myself, helpless. My ruined feathers scattered around the room, all that remained was blood and a few stubborn feathers. Ali gulped, and kneeled by my side, clutching my shoulder, he called my name.
Darkness… sweet painless bliss….
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-Riddick's POV-
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When I heard the scream I jerked, running with the others- but unlike them I knew what I would find. Ali alive- Harry…was dying. My heart leapt in my throat, and I used Johns' gun to blast the chains off the door.
"Ali?" Imam, horrified to find Ali kneeling by a bloodied Harry's side.
I jerk the kid away from Harry's side, dying…he is dying. I cradle him to myself, and snarl when they try to 'help'; they can't. I won't let them gawk at him as he dies. Gently I pick him up, he's light, and I take off- a loping run, one they are too weak to follow.
I ignore their cries for me to come back to them- I have an idea.
Harry told me once he didn't always have wings. The wings are killing him. I'll get rid of them.
There has to be a way.
I don't want him to die.
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-Xander's POV-
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I wanted to follow him. I wanted to help- to, to save him. Harry saves the kid, and gets killed? No, I won't let it happen. It can't. Whatever Riddick plans, I hope it works, they keep me among them.
They hold a mockery of a funereal. I attend with Paris, the only chance I can get away from them. That doesn't stop me form listening to their conversations from afar. Shazza saw the coring shaft, littered with human remains. The holy men are holding ceremony for them too. Riddick was right, they never left.
They are sure that Riddick is killing him.
They are sure that Harry is a dead man with out them.
They are sure that I am helpless.
Slowly, I let my Primal take over- a deal with a hyena. My eyes turn wholly black. Take care of Harry and Riddick, I tell her as I fade. She gets control till the sun sets.
Trick is; the suns never set here.
