Damn Fry. How like a woman to fuck up a perfectly good plan. And what's worse is that she died for it. That was my second mistake. Yeah, I know, what was my first? The kid, she got to me. She calmed the beast inside me, even when I argued with it.

Ghost em all, it said. But those eyes, they fucked me up good. Then, she spoke to me. Treated me like I was human. She even shaved her head, wore goggles like me and didn't care that I had killed people. I got to give her that, she's got good taste. She made me believe I could be more than just a convict.

We made it to New Mecca, Imam, Jack and I. She was a good girl and deserved a life. Those eyes, man they bored into my soul, black as it was. Part of me, no matter how many times I tried to shake it, recognized something in her that was oddly familiar, a bit of the beast that I had come to know so well. That came as a surprise to me, and to this day, I can't explain it.

"Gotta go kid." I told her. She stood there so pissed at me that she could have ripped my balls off. I couldn't blame her. I couldn't stay; I didn't have a choice.

"Stay, please don't leave." Man, she was making it hard. Those eyes were killing me. I knew I was ripping her heart out and I couldn't do a damn thing about it.

So I made a deal with her. "Holy man's gonna take care of you. I'll come back when it's safe." I didn't lie, not really. It would never be safe. I was a good payday. But ever since Johns asked me to ghost her cause the son of a bitch couldn't, I was lost. She was special.

Damn I'm such a pussy.

Hell if I didn't want to tear that nightgown off her and rip her apart. The beast bore it's teeth and demanded satisfaction.

She called your name you fuck. Take her, devour her, she's all yours. It said to me.

That's Jack, shut the fuck up. She's just a kid. DOWN BOY.

Not anymore dickey boy.

I like to watch her, I remember back on the skiff, waiting for someone to pick us up. She slept like an angel. She stirs in the darkness and I smile. That's it Jack, remember what I taught you. Feel me near you. I know you can.

I remembered seeing Imam earlier that evening and his words seemed to haunt me as I watch the even rise and fall of her chest.

"She has changed much since you last saw her, my friend." The holy man said to me. "It is good to see you once again."

Yeah I bet. Little Jack all grown up. I inhaled her scent and wondered if she was as beautiful as she smelled that I was gonna be in big trouble…

"She has suffered little while you've been away." Good at least I knew that she'd been well cared for. Not that she was mine in the first place, and not that I didn't think about that. When I left she was a kid with a shaved head and no family.

"She still has troubling dreams Mr. Riddick. Memories fade but are not forgotten." Yeah tell me about it. Those eyes have been looking into my soul for the last four fucken years, haunting me, calling to me...

"You are welcome in my home, Mr. Riddick, as always." He tells me and I'm grateful. But then his face gets real serious, and I was suddenly mad as hell cause I can tell something's wrong. "I must warn you, she is distrustful of men. Be careful, she has had it very difficult since she reached maturity. I have done my best to protect her."

And at that point I got the feeling that holy man was holding out on me and I'm fucken pissed. "Thanks holy man." I told him trying to figure out what piece of shit made her that way.

Because whoever did, he's one dead mother fucker. No one touches what is mine…

He stared at her in the darkness, wishing that he could have been there, keeping an eye on her himself. It took him a long time to throw off the mercs that were still after his head and only now did he feel safe enough to return. He felt relief that she was okay, but also guilt…guilt for watching her naked and guilt for leaving her in the first place.

He like observing her in her own element; he liked how she looked when she slept. He remembered when she was still clinging to him after T2 and how her eyes were so trusting. How could he make it up to her?

His senses, always acute sensed her stirring and with deadly stealth he moved to outside on the balcony. She rose, obviously uncomfortable, and ran her fingers through her hair. He watched her from the shadows rise and put on her abaya, and then her veil, and walk down the stairs.

Jack hated when she couldn't sleep. And lately more often than the mind numbing screaming dreams she had, she was dreaming of a different kind of scream. She dreamed of Riddick, the man with the silvery eyes and the gruff voice that haunted her. She wanted to hate him and thought by hating him, he would fade from her memory. But she couldn't and it gnawed at her. Sometime later, she returned to the safety of her room and took a long drink throwing her hair back once the veil had been tossed aside. The abaya was next and she slammed and locked the door more frustrated than when she left.

"Damn you Riddick." She said out loud as she lifted one leg and rested it against the door. "Why can't I hate you? It would make being lonely so much easier." She slammed the glass down on her bed table sighed. She ran her hands down her torso, lightly grazing her hardened nipples. She took a ragged breath cursing herself for thinking of him again. "But I can't damn it."

She'd been dreaming of him. She always did when she was tired. One hand continued slowly until it reached her pelvis, where, still damp from her dream, she rubbed herself trying to quell the ache she felt at the thoughts of his hands against her, and she cursed herself because of it. She moaned seductively as he watched her in the darkness.

Well, well, well… His eyes surveyed her ministrations and his inner beast growled in expectation of a good pouncing. Down boy.

Beautiful.. he thought and his beast agreed.

She turned towards the bed and said, "Lights, twenty percent."