Chapter 6: Uncontrolled

Riddick found an abandoned shop close to the guard tower that was filled with canned foodstuff. Shirah kept her distance from Riddick, just following him quietly where he went and not questioning anything, not wanting to turn him against her.

After scouting out the building Riddick decided to make this their 'home base'. There was enough food here to last them for months, and its location was good; down an alley and well out of the main thoroughfare, it also would be easy to defend if necessary. There was only one door located on the first floor opening out into an alleyway from the main room of the store. Another door was located behind the counter, which led into a small stock room. A spiral staircase stood in the corner of the stock room and led upstairs to what seemed to be the main living area with a small, dank bathroom and single bed jammed back into the corner. There was only one narrow dirty window through which filtered a small amount of light located high above the bed that would be nearly impossible to climb through.

Walking back downstairs, Riddick walked past Shirah. "Stay." He ordered.

After his outburst earlier, Shirah thought it would be wise to listen to him. She watched him walk outside, adjusting his goggles to cover his eyes. She was still wondering what had happened to affect Riddick so. "Something has happened to him, something that has nothing to do with Furya. But what?" She wondered. Shirah understood hatred, she understood pain and she saw both in Riddick's silver eyes. "What happened? I must find out, and I must stop him from causing his own death with some suicide war he cannot win!"

Riddick wound his way around buildings and fallen rubble back to the guard tower. Night was beginning to fall, allowing him to push his goggles up onto his forehead as he climbed the stairs to the roof. Stepping out into the night, he watched as the battle continued to rage. The smaller army had made some headway throughout the day and had pushed itself off the wall, depleting much of the larger army's tactical strength. Squatting down he began to study the two armies' movements; eventually he picked out their patterns. Watching, he found what seemed to be the center of command for each of the armies. Satisfied, he stood and headed back down the tower.

Exiting the tower, Riddick stepped into the thick black shadow along the city wall. Walking stealthily towards a small gate he saw two soldiers standing guard. Slowly he drew his two knives and shook back his cloak, taking a deep breath he steadied himself – then he launched himself onto the two guards. One quick swipe and they were dead, not having the chance to utter a sound. Whipping past them he slid through the open gate coming out to the rear of the smaller army. Crouching down he ran toward the command center he had spotted in the tower killing quickly, and quietly anyone who got in his way. The army was so distracted with the battle that he went completely unnoticed except by his hapless victims past the medic tent and toward a small tent brightly lit with electric lights fueled by a nearby generator. Edging up toward the opening of the tent he pulled down his goggles. Glancing around the flaps he quickly counted ten armored men standing inside gathered around a table covered in maps and battle plans. They each had energy guns strapped to their belts, and many had the battle axes favored by Necromonger warriors.

Lifting his two knives to chest level, he bolted through the door into the tent. Before they even realized he was there, the two commanders near the door were dead, blood gushing from their gaping throats. Moving so fast that he was a blur, he systematically slashed down man after man, the sound of men gagging on their own blood and moans filled the tent, only a few of the commanders were able to get off a wild shot before Riddick was upon them. In a matter of seconds, Riddick jerked his knife out of the last man's chest and looked around the room. Men were scattered around as though a bomb had gone off, some still twitching slightly as their nervous system shut down. Blood coated the floor making it slick as Riddick stood there; rage and vengeance burning in his eyes.

Suddenly, foot soldiers came running in, attracted by the sound of gunfire. All they saw was a split second view of a black cloak whipping through a hole cut in the back of the tent.

Riddick snuck back to the shop undetected by any of the Necromongers who were too distracted by the sudden loss of all their commanders to notice the man dressed in black creeping through the shadows.

Walking into the shop he saw Shirah heating some of the canned food in a bowl she must have found on a small, portable heater. Seeing her look questioningly up at him, he rolled his neck and moved upstairs to wash the blood off his hands and arms.

Standing at the sink Riddick looked up at the mirror lost in thought. He had killed those men cleanly and swiftly, a rage filling him so completely that after he left he had begun to shake. His hands were still trembling and he rested them on the edge of the sink. He had never felt this way before, he was always in control; he was no stranger to anger and the passion that it created in him, but this was different. He had never been left shaky before. "You're getting soft." He said to himself, "I always knew she would make you soft."

Finishing washing the blood off, he grabbed a nearby towel, dried his hands and headed downstairs.