Disclaimer:I do notown Riddick or Jack.
A/N: First Riddick fic. Reviews welcomed and encouraged.I'm quite aware it's short – I apologize, I didn't have much time. Hopefully my next update will be soon, and somewhat longer.
Prologue
Entitled: To Walk a Fine Line
Can a man of 'evil' become a hero? Does one have to willingly become a hero, or can their actions simply initiate a series of events that would qualify them as a hero – knowingly or not. In some cultures a hero is defined as one who can overcome all four of the elements: earth and air and water and fire. Any other restrictions weren't exactly defined.
Did it matter that he was a convicted murderer? Perhaps that leaves the definition of 'evil' to interpretation.
Darkness. Strange how one word can spark so many and such different emotions. Darkness can hold a fear of the unknown, a prickling on the back of one's neck that something is only just beyond your field of vision. And yet, it can hold a sense of security and comfort. Just think about it next time you close your eyes at night; you'll feel it too. It drowns out the insecurities. For Jack, it also brought back the memories.
It was late. She didn't know when exactly; her perception of time had become blurred over the past few days. Silently, Jack leaned back in the shadows that had become so much of a mixed comfort to her over the past few years. Swallowing hard, she tried to control her heavy breathing from running the streets. It was an unfamiliar place to her, a planet she had merely taken refuge upon. Her refuge had been cut short.
A shuffling of footsteps, someone who had never learned to pick up their feet properly, caught her attention to the right and still she kept her eyes firmly closed. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears as the footsteps got steadily closer and louder. Jack could have sworn that if they came any closer they would hear the furious beat of her heart.
The footsteps paused for a moment and Jack held her breath. The low rumble of a male's voice close by covered the sound of a blade being slipped from her pocket.
"I don't see her." The voice said. It was low, almost on the verge of fear.
Another voice answered the statement with an impatient growl, "Of course you don't, you can hardly see anything in this darkness."
And truly you couldn't, so it hardly made a difference that Jack kept her eyes closed until she chose to move. Until she was certain the men who had followed her could feel the cold steel against their throats and until she felt a warm liquid splatter against her hand. It had a metallic taste, blood. Like copper.
True, one could hardly see in that darkness, but Jack didn't need to. It would hide the bodies well.
It was seconds later when Jack stepped easily over the two lifeless men and continued on her way. Her destination: New Mecca. Her reasoning: she had given up looking for Riddick.