So your brother is dead. How do you feel about that?
How do you think I feel?
I know you're sad, but you also must remember that this is for the greater good. These experiments that I do. One day the world will look back on me and see me for the revolutionary that I am. I know you're in pain, but you are my best hope. I don't think your mother will make it either. They are both weak. But you my daughter, you will fight. You will make all my sacrifice worthwhile, you and only you will carry the blueprint of my genius.
I don't want to carry your blueprint. I want my brother back.
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Her memories twisted and turned back on one another. Slowly colliding atop each other until they were just a jumble of sights, sounds, colors and smells. She could feel her consciousness trying to surface like a man trapped under the water heading for the light knowing instinctively that there is air. They folded and then melted, looking in her minds eye like the melting film on a projector. She had seen one once in a museum. One of the antiques of ancient earth. She sighed inwardly letting the darkness and the forgetfulness surround her like a comforting black velvet glove.
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Riddick had checked on her several times in the last week. The prognosis was always the same. Due to the severe head trauma, internal bleeding and massive injury she had slipped into a coma. One so deep that even the marvels of medical science couldn't pull her out of. He looked into the room even now seeing her frame pulled tight on a series of leavers to move the muscles and prevent them from atrophying during her long period of unconsciousness. The doctors had all said the same thing. That if she did wake up and that was a big if, that she might have brain damage or even worse, only have partial movement of her body. Riddick grimaced inwardly at the thought of this, he knew Wylie too well to think she would be content with the ability to move only some of her body. Worse yet the officials had asked for a recall of the tournament events, that a maimed Queen was in truth not a Queen at all. If Wylie did not make a full and speedy recovery soon the tournament would begin again and then another Queen would be chosen for him. Truth was he could care less about the future what with the voice of the deceased Jack constantly blubbering on in his mind.
"So two dead and one in a coma…My, my, my a charmer you are! Poor women don't even have a chance around you do they? You know, I talked with Caroline the other day, yes we do keep in touch and she seems pretty confident that you will be sending Wylie to her grave soon enough."
"Caroline? You talked with her?" Even to Riddick his voice sounded mildly desperate.
"Are you shocked Riddick? Even in this place where you are the leader of a religion that has its whole basis in death and the afterlife you still don't believe. Well the answer is simple. There are a great many people here who are very anxious to speak with you. I envy you not once you pass. You will find the true meaning of hell."
"If there is a hell, I've lived my whole life in it. Don't give me any shit now Jack. What did Caroline say?"
"I will not be your ambassador to the other side Riddick. Find your own fuckin' way."
"I'm sure I will soon Jack. And when I get over there I'll be sure to ring your scrawny neck."
Wylie mumbled something incoherent in her sleep and tried to turn her body, the pulleys attached to her skin clanked together fitfully. They sounded like the dull ring of bells in the wind. He raised an eyebrow moving the chair closer to her prone body. Smoothing his hand over the flesh of her shoulder he marveled once again that the wound that would have killed most people had closed cleanly leaving no trace. He moved his hand to her face pulling up one of the lids of her eye looking for the presence of the hemorraging that was present in the cornea. He moved his broad face closer to hers and jumped back as the silvered iris tracked him. Before he could pull his hand from her cheek the whine of the pulleys alerted him that her hand was moving towards his. With surprising strength she gripped his wrist and squeezed struggling to pull her other eye open. The long sooty lashes were caked closed with a weeks worth of sleep and the lashes finally pulled apart with a slight tearing sound.
"Wylie?" he asked, the deep bass grumble of his voice rattling the bed.
He watched as her throat worked painfully trying to make words.
"Water." She said in a deep rasping voice. Riddick leaned over to a bedside table and poured her a small cup. She grasped it in her pale shaking hands as Riddick helped her sit up. She took a small sip and cleared her throat.
"I thought I was dead."
"Thought you were too."
"Being dead blows."
Riddick quirked an eyebrow. "I'll try to keep that in mind."
Wylie tried to laugh coughing violently as she did so almost dropping the cup in her hand. She gripped her ribs with her bad hand wincing.
"Feels like I had the shit kicked outta' me."
"You could say that. You don't remember anything that happened?"
"Nope."
"Kinda' figured you wouldn't. Seems to be that way. Don't worry bout' it kid. Rest."
Wylie could already feel herself lulling off.
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Riddick closed the door behind him looking to the guard that stood in the hall across from it. He had posted him there just in case one of the "contestants" of the competition got overzealous and decided that didn't have enough fuckin' guts to go up against Wylie while she was awake. It was something that he hated about the Necromongers. They sure weren't afraid to die but, they couldn't fight worth a shit either. He turned head down and slowly began to walk away from the room mulling over his thoughts. It was when he was totally immersed in them when he ran straight into Drysis talking to a group of other officials in the opening of the corridor.
"And to bring up the question of the Queen, she still lays unconscious in the bed. If we are to set up the new rule of the Lord Marshall then we must act in all haste, a new Queen must be chosen immediately. This Gentleman is a boon not a tragedy, the selection of the Caninite warrior woman was a good one indeed. It took the non believer Wylie out to the running for the throne and now gives us leave to set a more malleable Queen on the throne in her place. Gentleman, I say that we must insure that the old Queen does not wake! This is imperative. We must set someone in there to dispose of her.
All the officials nodded in agreement.
"A little fucking premature aren't you?" Riddick growled angrily as he looked over to the crowd, his large frame leaning against the wall.
Drysis spun around his mouth caught in mid sentence he shut it quickly with an audible snap.
"Well, fucking answer me." He looked down at the smaller man his nostrils flaring with anger.
Drysis began moving backwards pushing up against the huddled bodies of the officials.
"You know," Riddick began quietly in an alarmingly calm voice as he pushed off from the wall behind him. "I knew I couldn't trust you mother fuckers, had that sneaking suspicion … the one that sneaks up your spine and kinda' taps there…watin' for someone to notice...that little sneakin' suspicion that tells ya something is goin' on and you don't listen…I've been lisitin' to mine for a long, long, time. Been keeping me from getting ghosted most of my life…
Riddick began to move slowly forward. He shot out his muscular arm and caught Drysis around the throat and tugged, knocking the smaller man off his feet and dragging him forward. He flexed his shoulder sending a fine tremble down into his forearm and into his hand...
Say goodbye Drysis. Riddick turned so that the smaller man who was now desperately clawing at Riddick's hand was in profile.
Riddick slowly bore all his crushing weight into his hand watching with a wide grin on his face as the smaller blood vessels in Drysis's eyes began to burst and he began to purple slightly around the mouth.
"See guys, in all the movies you fuckin' see," Riddick said as he applied more pressure and Drysis squirmed.
" They tell ya that strangling the life outa' some one is fast, cllleeeannn," he hissed, "simple. Its not, slow, so slow it takes for fucking ever before the piece of shit your tryin' to ghost stops floundering like a fish outa' water".
He shook Drysis who had begun to turn an alarming shade of purple for emphasis.
"Before they black out…before the oxygen to their brain completely shuts off and you pass out. It's painful like droundin'…bitch is their aint no water and plenty of air if you could only….get a breath.
He turned his mirrored gaze on the crowd and let all the sanity run out of his expression leaving his eyes cold as two nickels that had been left in the snow.
He tilted back his head letting out a throaty chuckle …
"So I want to know which of you fucks were gonna' have the balls to go in there and ghost her?"
"WHICH ONE OF YOU FUCKS?"
The crowd of officials stared at Riddick as if he had sprouted two heads
Riddick looked down to the smaller man that was in his grasp. He released Drysis with a careless movement letting his knees hit the floor with a hollow thud. Quickly he pulled out his shiv from around his back and pushed the now wheezing Drysis over on to his stomach and pinned him down with his knee.
"Watch." The word was uttered with a guttural sound making it more of a growl than anything.
Riddick turned swiftly pivoting his weight on his knee and picked up both of Drysis legs and bending them towards him. With a swift stroke he severed both of Drysis's Achilles tendons and listened with pleasure as he squealed. He turned again and pulled Drysis up by the hair of his head arching his back at a painful angle. He used the point of his shiv and angled it into Drysis eye right above the tear duct. With a flick of his wrist he tossed the eye out of its orbit and on to the floor with a wet splat, its optical cord trailing. The second eye followed suit and rolled drunkenly towards the disbelieving group of officials.
Riddick stood letting one heavily booted foot land in a puddle of blood.
"Should ghost you." Riddick said lowly. Instead, he kneeled scooping up both eyes in one hand and severed the optic cord neatly with the blade of his shiv. He turned and motioned for the guard standing at the door of Wylie's room to come forward.
"Take these and put them in a jar next to the Queens bed. She will understand."
The guard nodded his understanding and moved off down the hallway.
Riddick stood once again and placed the sole of his bloody boot against Drysis backside pushing him forward. The movement caused Drysis already weak hands to slide in his own gore and slam his chin against the hard steel of the floor.
"Get.Up." Riddick roared over Drysis forlorn wailing. "Go show the rest of the officials what happens to fuckin' traiters."Drysis looked up to Riddick his eyes showing nothing but blank bloody sockets and muttered "Yes Lord Marshall."
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