Part 3
Reanimation
So Riddick? You plan to bring her back do you? Pull her out of the boggy abyss that your followers refer to as "underverse"? But what about me Riddick? Am I to be like Caroline? Forgotten and swept under the rug? Don't tell me that our sacrifices were in vain…
Riddick growled inwardly the rambling voice of Jack had plagued him for the last hour. No amount of drink could dull out the voice.
That's right Riddick. The voice said coolly. I want you to remember the pain of my sacrifice. I am here in this abyss and for now, so is she. But I wont let you take the easy way out my hero, Oh no….you will relive this pain until YOU BRING ME BACK!
Riddick cupped both of his hands to the side of his pounding head and paced his now seemingly confined quarters. He wiped at a bead of sweat that snaked its self down behind his ear and landed on the neck of the tank making a faint dark stain.
Did I die for nothing? Was I nothing to you? The voice echoed hollowly in Riddick's head.
"Stop it." Riddick growled deeply as he pushed harder on either side of his head trying to dull out the ache.
Bring me back Riddick. Do it now. For us. Please. Give me another chance. I was always with you. The voice wept.
Riddick squeezed his eyes shut against the small scared voice in his head remembering the little girl that had wanted to be just like him.
It's dark here. The voice whispered shakily. I'm scared.
Riddick tilted his head back and howled.
…………………………………………………………………………………
"Sir, Sir …Are you listening?" Riddick's head swiveled towards the small voice of the even smaller man whose head now seemed to be hovering above the collar of this black coat.
"What?" Riddick grumbled.
"Sir, I just wanted you to know exactly what was going to happen." "Even we aren't sure what may happen with one that has been dead for so long. The body can be recreated through all the genetic information that we have but the mind, the mind we cannot fix. We don't even know if the soul that you have had contact with is really hers. What if…
Riddick cut him off with a sharp glance in his direction. "Do it. Do it now." His voice dropped to a low bass growl.
"Y-yes Sir." The smaller man trembled. "S-sir, one more thing." Riddick's silvered glaze turned on the smaller man pinning him where he stood.
"Yes?" Riddick said slowly.
"If-if something goes wrong, if something doesn't work out, you can send them back in 48 hours, after that it becomes much, much harder."
"Why?" he asked one eyebrow arched darkly.
"Sir even we are not sure, we think its because once the soul is brought back into the body it takes a period of time to mesh its self back into the flesh, after that time the flesh does not give up the soul easily and once "stuck" its very difficult to get it "unstuck" its as if the body clings harder to the soul that it once lost. Our last Lord Marshall was an example of that. His soul could almost be two places at once."
Riddick grumbled under his breath lowly. "Do it." He repeated and turned to walk out of the room.
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Dark…Peace….Like being wrapped in a velvet bag….
Wylie felt a dull "pop" and a feeling of falling quickly.
Feels like my fucking tendons are being pulled apart.
She screamed silently her mouth gaping like a fishes with out its watery air.
What the fuck IS this??
She struck out with her fist wanting to come in contact with something, but whatever her fist was searching for eluded her like smoke.
Pain…I remember this feeling…
She tossed fitfully, feeling as if she were a cup holding water that was just beginning to trickle over the edge.
I feel like a skin that has stretched to its limit. Like I'm about to split open like an overripe fruit.
She screamed again this time pulling a lungful of air as she did it. She jumped at the sound of her own voice cracked and pitted from disuse.
All right, breathe Wylie…literally…. she almost cackled to herself. Either I'm alive again…or this is just another really fucked up part of the "afterlife". I'm voting for dead…and a sadistic god like being…I think that would be preferable to the whole experiment in a little cage scenario that I went through..Im going to be REALLY fucking pissed if I open my eyes and I see anything but black…
Wylie opened one eye experimentally…..
"I'm pissed." Her voice cracked, echoing off the walls of the room.
Fine, we've found out that someone is a really sick fuck….give you three guesses who it is….and I would be willing to bet you that god had nothing to do with it….but, maybe he did…I guess I did vote for a sadistic god….note to self jackass, be careful what you wish for
Her eyes shot around the room angrily…looking for the one person she was sure had to be responsible for her latest visit….
Looking to her left she noticed a body draped with a sheet next to her. Wylie raised a dark eyebrow squinting against the over bright fluorescents. She forced her arms to heave underneath her frame straining to push her body off the bed. The muscles in her arms quivered with the effort. She turned her head to look down, her vertebra popped with a gunfire effect.
Pretty. She thought. Blondish curly hair, nice frame although a little on the thin side…she looks young. I wonder who she is?
The young woman next to her whimpered quietly.
Up Wylie…get up…find out where the fuck you are…and why…Her mind screamed at her…Why are you alive?? Why are you here? We were better off gone…Wylie frowned in concentration…Stop whining.
She lay prone again lifting the flimsy sheet that covered her with one hand. Wylie glanced down running her other hand down the curves of her body.
Mental check list. Ribs check.. Hips check, boobs…oh thank fucking god. Their still there.
She moved her hand to the valley in-between her breasts looking for the scars that she was sure had to be there from the Y incision that was cut into her…she found nothing but her skin.
The hairs on Wylie's neck stood on end. She released the sheet letting it float back down to rest quietly across the swell of her breasts. Turning her head slowly her silver gaze met with a green one…
"Who are you?" A small voice cracked.
Wylie raised an eyebrow.. "Wylie." She said slowly. She motioned her chin towards the woman next to her "You?"
"Jack." The small voice said. "Riddick brought me back." She said slowly as if forming the words slowly in her head.
"That makes two of us sister."
"So I hear you're a killer." The voice next to her piped up next to her as if discussing the weather outside.
"Oh, yeah? Wylie said sardonically. "Where'd you here that?"
"From Riddick" She said in a small voice. "I've been talking to him in his head all along."
Wylie raised an eyebrow. "Really?" She thought when and if she saw Riddick again she would have to talk to him about this…invisible friends spirit or not was not a healthy occupation even for a psychopath
Wylie looked into the eyes of Jack and saw the green glaze over as if something slid behind them…
"You know my favorite game is who's the better killer." Jack said lowly. And tried to level what Wylie thought was supposed to be an intimidating glance at her.
Wylie chuckled. "Cute kid. Don't make the mistake of trying to play the game with me. I AM the better killer."
"We'll see." Jack said flatly.
Great, sometimes it just doesn't pay to be resurrected.