::: CHAPTER TEN :::
After initial takeoff, I unstrapped myself from both chair and confining cockpit and went to search the enormous metal ship. It was a Lunar 7 Space Model. Main deck was living quarters and ground level was maintenance. Riddick had definitely chosen a top-notch traveling vehicle. But the size of it left me feeling hollow. Too big for just two people.
The main deck consisted of five major rooms, though I can't be sure due to the excessive trembling in my traitorous body. I slipped down the corridor, one hand dragging along the shiny, sterilized looking wall. First door opened to a huge bedroom . . . absolutely monstrous. The bed was old-fashioned with a cherry wood headboard. I walked up to it and the tip of my finger followed the intricate design on one of the bed's posts. Getting my bearings I kneeled down to look under the bed . . . nothing. Not even a speck of lost dust. The rest of the room was pretty bare. A desk in one corner that held numerous books, ancient ones with torn covers and newer ones with slick aluminum protection, was the only other thing that really stood out. Then a huge armoire came into view. I tentatively opened it and found myself face to face with empty space. It wasn't stocked.
I turned to exit with the thought of scouring the rest of the ship.
I never got to the other four rooms. I don't know if it was lack of sleep or my constantly empty stomach but there was a knocking from inside my head and my eyes closed in response. My world became darker as my body pitched forward and the last thing I heard was the sound a weightless person makes hitting the hard floor.
My body felt like it was oozing chemicals and when I opened my eyes, I realized that indeed I was propped up in a white tub with semi-stale water surrounding me. Judging from my fingertips, I knew I had been in there for a long time. I experimentally wriggled my toes and swallowed the saliva that had formed as soon as I woke up. The bathroom was empty, but I knew I hadn't gotten there by myself. And the only other person on the ship was Riddick. My anger flared when I noticed that I was naked. Riddick had no right to undress me, I thought bitterly.
As I heard him coming down the hall, I grabbed a towel near me and flung it into the water to cover myself. It quickly soaked up the water and instantly became saturated allowing it to cling to my body. I was just glad it wasn't a white towel; it's one thing to have a person see you naked when you're unconscious than actually talking one on one with that same person and acting like fucking Eve in the Garden. The doorknob turned, and Riddick stepped in. I took into account that he didn't knock.
He didn't talk and neither did I. The only noise that was heard was the swishing of water as my ankle rotated. The rotating had become a permanent signature of mine. I couldn't take staring up at him any longer so I shifted my gaze to my hands clutching the towel. It seemed Riddick enjoyed making me feel self-conscious -- as if he knew that was my only weakness.
I was the first to speak.
"How come I'm in the bathtub . . . naked?"
Riddick didn't reply. My whole body was itching to receive answers, and I could barely contain myself from splashing him with water . . . not in a playful manner either.
He moved backwards towards the door -- nice and slow as if I was some unkempt animal ready to pounce. At the threshold he stopped, leaned to one side, and finally spoke.
"Get dressed. Made you some dinner, bones." He chuckled at his own little joke as if it was the cleverest quip ever made.
As soon as the door slammed shut, I stood up and walked down the hall trailing as much water as possible through the impeccable ship. I opened the remaining four doors until I discovered a room with a suitcase in it. This was apparently my room. Shuffling through the clothes, I picked out and wore baggy grayish pants that had not always been baggy on me and a loose long-sleeved black shirt. I just wasn't in the mood to be shocking Riddick. Until I knew what the game was I swore to not switch any lightbulbs on in Riddick's mind.
I reached the kitchen and sat down, grateful Riddick wasn't in sight. Food was laid out, and I picked a scrawny chicken leg to nibble on. I got to thinking of my situation -- the kidnapping and reasons behind it mostly. Was it strictly to have a companion on a long journey for Riddick? Would he really be that clingy? I didn't think so. There was more and thinking freely, I knew that whatever his justification had been it didn't matter because he would be keeping me because of my reasons not his. Satisfied with my strictly mental decision, I started to eat.
Just as I was swallowing the first tiny bite, Riddick made an appearance. He pulled up a chair causing it to squeak on the shiny floor and sat down across from me. Instantly my back straightened and swallowing became difficult. It seemed to me, however, that he was unaffected. He just grabbed some chicken while flipping through what looked like a coordinate map.
I swallowed slowly and told myself to look like a little mouse asking a question.
"So, where are we going?"
Riddick didn't even bother looking up.
"Zemi."
This was absolutely infuriating. I could tell that he was going to be honest with me so I wasn't really prepared in asking the next question. I should have made sure there was more water than blood in my veins before this dangerous inquiry but as usual I was too busy thinking of reactions rather than actual facts.
"What's in Zemi?"
Riddick finally put down the map and for a second I thought I saw regret flit across his face but than again it could have just been the vacant spots inside my head that screamed for an emotion called remorse.
"Slave traders."
After initial takeoff, I unstrapped myself from both chair and confining cockpit and went to search the enormous metal ship. It was a Lunar 7 Space Model. Main deck was living quarters and ground level was maintenance. Riddick had definitely chosen a top-notch traveling vehicle. But the size of it left me feeling hollow. Too big for just two people.
The main deck consisted of five major rooms, though I can't be sure due to the excessive trembling in my traitorous body. I slipped down the corridor, one hand dragging along the shiny, sterilized looking wall. First door opened to a huge bedroom . . . absolutely monstrous. The bed was old-fashioned with a cherry wood headboard. I walked up to it and the tip of my finger followed the intricate design on one of the bed's posts. Getting my bearings I kneeled down to look under the bed . . . nothing. Not even a speck of lost dust. The rest of the room was pretty bare. A desk in one corner that held numerous books, ancient ones with torn covers and newer ones with slick aluminum protection, was the only other thing that really stood out. Then a huge armoire came into view. I tentatively opened it and found myself face to face with empty space. It wasn't stocked.
I turned to exit with the thought of scouring the rest of the ship.
I never got to the other four rooms. I don't know if it was lack of sleep or my constantly empty stomach but there was a knocking from inside my head and my eyes closed in response. My world became darker as my body pitched forward and the last thing I heard was the sound a weightless person makes hitting the hard floor.
My body felt like it was oozing chemicals and when I opened my eyes, I realized that indeed I was propped up in a white tub with semi-stale water surrounding me. Judging from my fingertips, I knew I had been in there for a long time. I experimentally wriggled my toes and swallowed the saliva that had formed as soon as I woke up. The bathroom was empty, but I knew I hadn't gotten there by myself. And the only other person on the ship was Riddick. My anger flared when I noticed that I was naked. Riddick had no right to undress me, I thought bitterly.
As I heard him coming down the hall, I grabbed a towel near me and flung it into the water to cover myself. It quickly soaked up the water and instantly became saturated allowing it to cling to my body. I was just glad it wasn't a white towel; it's one thing to have a person see you naked when you're unconscious than actually talking one on one with that same person and acting like fucking Eve in the Garden. The doorknob turned, and Riddick stepped in. I took into account that he didn't knock.
He didn't talk and neither did I. The only noise that was heard was the swishing of water as my ankle rotated. The rotating had become a permanent signature of mine. I couldn't take staring up at him any longer so I shifted my gaze to my hands clutching the towel. It seemed Riddick enjoyed making me feel self-conscious -- as if he knew that was my only weakness.
I was the first to speak.
"How come I'm in the bathtub . . . naked?"
Riddick didn't reply. My whole body was itching to receive answers, and I could barely contain myself from splashing him with water . . . not in a playful manner either.
He moved backwards towards the door -- nice and slow as if I was some unkempt animal ready to pounce. At the threshold he stopped, leaned to one side, and finally spoke.
"Get dressed. Made you some dinner, bones." He chuckled at his own little joke as if it was the cleverest quip ever made.
As soon as the door slammed shut, I stood up and walked down the hall trailing as much water as possible through the impeccable ship. I opened the remaining four doors until I discovered a room with a suitcase in it. This was apparently my room. Shuffling through the clothes, I picked out and wore baggy grayish pants that had not always been baggy on me and a loose long-sleeved black shirt. I just wasn't in the mood to be shocking Riddick. Until I knew what the game was I swore to not switch any lightbulbs on in Riddick's mind.
I reached the kitchen and sat down, grateful Riddick wasn't in sight. Food was laid out, and I picked a scrawny chicken leg to nibble on. I got to thinking of my situation -- the kidnapping and reasons behind it mostly. Was it strictly to have a companion on a long journey for Riddick? Would he really be that clingy? I didn't think so. There was more and thinking freely, I knew that whatever his justification had been it didn't matter because he would be keeping me because of my reasons not his. Satisfied with my strictly mental decision, I started to eat.
Just as I was swallowing the first tiny bite, Riddick made an appearance. He pulled up a chair causing it to squeak on the shiny floor and sat down across from me. Instantly my back straightened and swallowing became difficult. It seemed to me, however, that he was unaffected. He just grabbed some chicken while flipping through what looked like a coordinate map.
I swallowed slowly and told myself to look like a little mouse asking a question.
"So, where are we going?"
Riddick didn't even bother looking up.
"Zemi."
This was absolutely infuriating. I could tell that he was going to be honest with me so I wasn't really prepared in asking the next question. I should have made sure there was more water than blood in my veins before this dangerous inquiry but as usual I was too busy thinking of reactions rather than actual facts.
"What's in Zemi?"
Riddick finally put down the map and for a second I thought I saw regret flit across his face but than again it could have just been the vacant spots inside my head that screamed for an emotion called remorse.
"Slave traders."