Supplanted
By Unanon
Written for the 15minuteficlets challenge community on LiveJournal. The
keyword was 'Replacement'
They say that your cells regenerate every seven years. Now I don't know if that's true and, hell, I really don't care either way. But it's interesting, isn't it? Every seven years you are almost entirely changed, replaced by a new creature who looks like you, talks like you, smells like you...but essentially isn't the same thing it used to be.
It's only been five years since I last saw Riddick. I've spent those years hard at work, sweating myself dry with the changes I've had to make. Sure, some of them I wanted, seeking them out, craving what I considered self- improvement. But a lot of those changes were forced on me by necessity. Survival is all that matters in some corners of this universe...and in the Slam that's magnified 1000 percent.
Survival means sacrifice. I spent years cutting away bits of myself, bits of Jack. I replaced her with Kyra the same way Jack replaced Audrey years ago. You'd think that becoming a new person for the second time would be easier then it had been at first, but it wasn't. You become even less comfortable in your own skin the further you remove the person you have to be from the self you hide.
I almost liked myself as Jack; I could have lived inside that skin forever. She was warm and comfortable, funny sometimes even when things looked their worst. More importantly though, Riddick liked her. Even though he left me behind I knew that he had an attachment to Jack. He had a fondness for her. For me.
Maybe even loved me a little.
But Jack's pretty much dead now. She eroded away beneath fists and fights and the hot breath of reeking men until only Kyra remained. Kyra's harder, dirtier, leaner and meaner. She's had to be; she helped us survive and for that I appreciate her. Kyra walked through fire and piss until it burned out everything that used to be Jack and replaced it with something new.
I only wish I liked her better and, in his more unguarded moments, I can tell that Riddick wishes the same thing.
They say that your cells regenerate every seven years. Now I don't know if that's true and, hell, I really don't care either way. But it's interesting, isn't it? Every seven years you are almost entirely changed, replaced by a new creature who looks like you, talks like you, smells like you...but essentially isn't the same thing it used to be.
It's only been five years since I last saw Riddick. I've spent those years hard at work, sweating myself dry with the changes I've had to make. Sure, some of them I wanted, seeking them out, craving what I considered self- improvement. But a lot of those changes were forced on me by necessity. Survival is all that matters in some corners of this universe...and in the Slam that's magnified 1000 percent.
Survival means sacrifice. I spent years cutting away bits of myself, bits of Jack. I replaced her with Kyra the same way Jack replaced Audrey years ago. You'd think that becoming a new person for the second time would be easier then it had been at first, but it wasn't. You become even less comfortable in your own skin the further you remove the person you have to be from the self you hide.
I almost liked myself as Jack; I could have lived inside that skin forever. She was warm and comfortable, funny sometimes even when things looked their worst. More importantly though, Riddick liked her. Even though he left me behind I knew that he had an attachment to Jack. He had a fondness for her. For me.
Maybe even loved me a little.
But Jack's pretty much dead now. She eroded away beneath fists and fights and the hot breath of reeking men until only Kyra remained. Kyra's harder, dirtier, leaner and meaner. She's had to be; she helped us survive and for that I appreciate her. Kyra walked through fire and piss until it burned out everything that used to be Jack and replaced it with something new.
I only wish I liked her better and, in his more unguarded moments, I can tell that Riddick wishes the same thing.