::: CHAPTER EIGHTEEN :::
Riddick had locked me into my room after three days of my strangely (for him) sinister disposition. And now I only had three more days till Zemi. Concretely, three more days of "having." Having what, I wasn't exactly sure. All I knew was that it was making my lunacy quite active and volatile.
Two days ago, I had actually topped myself. It was a new devilish record.
Riddick had been sleeping . . . alone. That was expected. Maybe he even expected me trying to crawl into bed with him again . . . and what? Beg for forgiveness? Too late for that. No, I definitely didn't do that. What I did do though was just as shocking. And it wasn't a game. For it to have been a game there would've had to be two players. But it was just me.
I crept into his room a.k.a. the dark side of the moon. He must have felt me, but I think he purposely ignored me, irritated that I might try seducing him or something nonsensical like that. Yeah, right.
I closed the steel door behind me and plastered myself against the cool wall. Staring at Riddick's form on the huge bed, I knew instantly that he had awoken maybe a second before I actually walked in. Senses were obviously still honed. And yet his eyes were closed, not in a tense way . . . but a blissful one. That made me quite jealous; I wanted to be that happy . . . or at least pretend that well.
Using the wall for support, I inched closer, breathing as normal as possible. The scent of the air was actually changing and electrifying as I went towards Riddick, my savior . . . my opponent. Maybe it was a game.
Breathing in the heady scent of mockery and power, I loomed over him. Hadn't he done this before to me . . . before changing my life forever? I thanked his need to stay in control; it kept his eyes closed, transferring me the power to do what I came there to accomplish. Riddick was intelligent and not at all very trusting, but his impulsive desire truly was a vexing for him because as he willed me away through his avoidance, I silently picked up his goggles from the night stand and pulled them over my eyes.
True, I didn't have to do that; I just had to take them. But for a whirly moment I was dragged through a magical castle, and I just had to see what the fire-blowing dragon perceived when protected from his captive's glare. The world became darker . . . tighter . . . easier to understand. There was the moving and the unmoving -- no intermediate. It made my head ache; I quickly removed the goggles, carefully backing out of Riddick's room, his now defiled sanctuary. I retreated back to the tower, that was posing as my room.
Once there, I hid the precious goggles under the mattress. There seriously wasn't anywhere else to; my room was completely bare. My body was uneasy like I had just ran a couple of miles. The last time I had felt anything comparable was when I was running from hammerhead freaks who hadn't tasted human blood in twenty-two years. My mind was coiling around itself until all thoughts were one and the same: I had to move to the next step of my plan.
I walked quickly to the computerized control room, not wanting to waste time. However, I had always had my issues with time. Was it a motivation or a tragedy? Oh hell, I didn't have time to figure that out.
Sliding the heavy door aside, I stepped into this radiating room of silvers and golds. It felt slightly warmer in there, but probably wasn't. The blinks of the comps and the whirring sounds of cooling mechanisms constructed together for a somewhat peaceful atmosphere. This room, too, would be ruined by me.
I stepped up to the comp that controlled the lighting on the ship. It didn't have a password that I needed to decode -- I guess Riddick never felt a demand for one. Even though his eyes were his biggest weakness . . . . He still hadn't bothered firewalling this particular comp. It was almost as if he wanted someone to try to mess with his spectrum of lights. And lucky him, I never refused an invitation.
Noticing that only twenty percent of the ship's lights worked, I hastily changed that to one hundred percent. Now the ship was at full capacity, which was actually extreme. Most space traveler's had the maximum of seventy percent -- never one hundred. Then I programmed for all of these wonderful blinding lights to turn on at exactly the same time -- in twenty minutes.
I slinked back to my room, not locking the control room. My mission wasn't to blind Riddick, so eventually I did want him to get in there and switch back the settings. My goal was to dehumanize him. I just needed him to lose his control . . . if only for a second. And if he couldn't see my human skin but only felt malevolence diffusing from me, that would be inevitable.
Riddick had locked me into my room after three days of my strangely (for him) sinister disposition. And now I only had three more days till Zemi. Concretely, three more days of "having." Having what, I wasn't exactly sure. All I knew was that it was making my lunacy quite active and volatile.
Two days ago, I had actually topped myself. It was a new devilish record.
Riddick had been sleeping . . . alone. That was expected. Maybe he even expected me trying to crawl into bed with him again . . . and what? Beg for forgiveness? Too late for that. No, I definitely didn't do that. What I did do though was just as shocking. And it wasn't a game. For it to have been a game there would've had to be two players. But it was just me.
I crept into his room a.k.a. the dark side of the moon. He must have felt me, but I think he purposely ignored me, irritated that I might try seducing him or something nonsensical like that. Yeah, right.
I closed the steel door behind me and plastered myself against the cool wall. Staring at Riddick's form on the huge bed, I knew instantly that he had awoken maybe a second before I actually walked in. Senses were obviously still honed. And yet his eyes were closed, not in a tense way . . . but a blissful one. That made me quite jealous; I wanted to be that happy . . . or at least pretend that well.
Using the wall for support, I inched closer, breathing as normal as possible. The scent of the air was actually changing and electrifying as I went towards Riddick, my savior . . . my opponent. Maybe it was a game.
Breathing in the heady scent of mockery and power, I loomed over him. Hadn't he done this before to me . . . before changing my life forever? I thanked his need to stay in control; it kept his eyes closed, transferring me the power to do what I came there to accomplish. Riddick was intelligent and not at all very trusting, but his impulsive desire truly was a vexing for him because as he willed me away through his avoidance, I silently picked up his goggles from the night stand and pulled them over my eyes.
True, I didn't have to do that; I just had to take them. But for a whirly moment I was dragged through a magical castle, and I just had to see what the fire-blowing dragon perceived when protected from his captive's glare. The world became darker . . . tighter . . . easier to understand. There was the moving and the unmoving -- no intermediate. It made my head ache; I quickly removed the goggles, carefully backing out of Riddick's room, his now defiled sanctuary. I retreated back to the tower, that was posing as my room.
Once there, I hid the precious goggles under the mattress. There seriously wasn't anywhere else to; my room was completely bare. My body was uneasy like I had just ran a couple of miles. The last time I had felt anything comparable was when I was running from hammerhead freaks who hadn't tasted human blood in twenty-two years. My mind was coiling around itself until all thoughts were one and the same: I had to move to the next step of my plan.
I walked quickly to the computerized control room, not wanting to waste time. However, I had always had my issues with time. Was it a motivation or a tragedy? Oh hell, I didn't have time to figure that out.
Sliding the heavy door aside, I stepped into this radiating room of silvers and golds. It felt slightly warmer in there, but probably wasn't. The blinks of the comps and the whirring sounds of cooling mechanisms constructed together for a somewhat peaceful atmosphere. This room, too, would be ruined by me.
I stepped up to the comp that controlled the lighting on the ship. It didn't have a password that I needed to decode -- I guess Riddick never felt a demand for one. Even though his eyes were his biggest weakness . . . . He still hadn't bothered firewalling this particular comp. It was almost as if he wanted someone to try to mess with his spectrum of lights. And lucky him, I never refused an invitation.
Noticing that only twenty percent of the ship's lights worked, I hastily changed that to one hundred percent. Now the ship was at full capacity, which was actually extreme. Most space traveler's had the maximum of seventy percent -- never one hundred. Then I programmed for all of these wonderful blinding lights to turn on at exactly the same time -- in twenty minutes.
I slinked back to my room, not locking the control room. My mission wasn't to blind Riddick, so eventually I did want him to get in there and switch back the settings. My goal was to dehumanize him. I just needed him to lose his control . . . if only for a second. And if he couldn't see my human skin but only felt malevolence diffusing from me, that would be inevitable.