Chapter 5
Just a Scratch
Riddick's POV
I stepped into the door, closing it hard behind me, I've found, in my line of work, loud noises are the key. There's nothing better than causing a grown man to piss himself, and I must say, I am good at that. Not that I like to toot my own horn or anything. Ah hell, who am I lying to…? Toot toot.
Looking around the room, I've just realized these people don't stand a chance. There's the guy that opened the door, tall skinny, long nasty hair, what's he going to do? Drip his grease on the floor so I slip? Ha!
There are two other people in here, besides myself and the nasty guy; they're sitting at a table about fifteen feet from me. One is a short fat bald man, looks like he's constipated… The other is a man about my height, similar build, but I think he's fat instead of muscle… They shouldn't be any problem for me.
"Okay, now which one of you thinks you can take me?" I scanned the room. No one stood up or even flinched. "No one?"
I took a step forward, and glared down at them with the meanest look I could muster. I could almost swear I felt the room shiver.
'Awe, they're scared. How sad.'
I took a few more steps forward, now I am about six feet or so from the people at the table. They've got a bottle of my favorite liquor; I think I'll just help myself.
When I reached out for the bottle, the two men jumped back in their seats, I almost laughed, it's sad to see full grown men as terrified as this; then again, it is a bitter sweet sight. I shrugged it off and removed the cap from the bottle. Before taking a drink, I rolled it in my hands, so I could read the label. Ah, Jack Daniels.
I turned the bottle up and drank down half of the dark liquid in two swallows. The familiar stinging in the back of my throat was nothing. It's been years since I've seen any of this around, it's not something you can come across easily. Maybe this is why I was hired on to, er, take care of these men.
Ah shit, who gives a damn? I'm getting paid for doing what comes naturally to me. It isn't my place to assess the situation and ask questions. Questions only get you into trouble. Better to just trust what you're told. That way you get your money.
It's time to get down to business, no more playing games.
For a more dramatic scene, I slammed the bottle down on the table in front of me, causing it to shatter in my hand, which in turn caused all three men to jump. (I hadn't expected that.) Instead of simply shaking the glass from my hand, I decide to get creative. With one quick movement of my hand, I throw the glass shards into the face of the fat man, causing him to scream in agony.
I do so love the sound of screams in the afternoon.
Fractions of a second after I hit that guy in the face with the glass, the other two men were behind me, trying to get me away from the fat one. It was what I expected to happen, I figure it made things more interesting, for me.
I turned around quickly and grabbed the tall guy by the throat and slammed his body into the table, which broke under his weight, and then the biggest guy tried to punch me. (Bad idea.)
Once everything was said and done, I was standing in the room, with three corpses of men. I, of course, didn't have but a mere scratch on me, which was on my right forearm, back near me elbow. I'm not really sure where or when I got it, but it did sting a bit. Though, it's nothing I can't handle.
In retrospect, I've had much worse, this was nothing.
I looked around the room at the blood stained walls, at the broken table, then into the faces of the three men I had just killed. I remember every face of every person I've ever killed, a bit of a token I suppose. Even in death, their faces were frozen with the look of being completely horrorstruck. It's almost a comical sight, I think every person should see it at least once, I think it does a body good. Shows you just how much control you have over others. And I, of course, always have control.
When I left the room, I closed the door and pulled the handle clean out of the steel of the door. No one needed to be going in there any time soon. Once the men were missing for about a month, the building would be broken into and being the kind of guy I am, I will have the last laugh. Ugh. Can you imagine the smell? It's enough to turn even my stomach. Ha ha it's going to be great! Definitely unexpected.
And once these ass holes are found, no one will even expect me, I don't exist anymore. Well, this is the first hint, this is the only clue they're going to be getting from me.
Ouch, okay maybe I don't have just a scratch… Son of a bitch, this sting.
End Riddick's POV
Jack was nearly done cleaning up her room and Riddick had only been gone two hours. She thought she was doing well, given the state the room had been in. She had every piece of clothing picked up out of the floor and off of her dresser and sorted into piles; clean, sort of clean, not really sure, dirty, and really dirty.
She was happy with her accomplishment, but wondered if it would be good enough for Riddick's standards. No, she didn't dust or done any of those dismal things, but she had picked up, surely that meant something.
She was engaged in carrying her dirty laundry into the bathroom when she heard the front door open. She strained to see over the pile of clothes in her arms, but as it was no use, she called out to who ever had entered the house.
"Riddick?"
Riddick laughed, "Who else?"
His voice was a relief to her temporary fear. She hadn't thought to lock the door after he left, and living where they did, it was good to lock your doors. When Riddick was home it wasn't a big deal, but if someone saw him leave, and tried to enter the house, Jack was defenseless.
She heard him walking closer to her as he spoke his few words. And she knew he was checking on her progress.
She dropped her pile of clothes in the hamper, which was now over flowing, and hung her head out of the door way. "I hope it's up to your liking."
He was standing a few feet from her, in the doorway of her bed room, looking around. "Looks good, kid. See it isn't that difficult."
She curled her lip, "Yeah, but it's not fun."
He laughed again and flipped off the light in her bed room as well as the hall light. Jack followed suit, knowing he was going to take off his goggles, and turned off the light in the bathroom.
Once all three lights were out, Riddick brought his massive arm up and pulled his goggles off over his head, his silvery eyes glistened as he stared down at Jack.
Anyone could be lost in the beauty of those silvery pools. It was amazing what you could get for the price of ten menthol kools. Then again, he did have the surgery done in slam.
"But, it's something that must be done. There are many things in life that must be done and most are not fun."
He hadn't thought about the so called scratch he had on his arm when he brought it up to remove his goggles. Jack noticed it, that girl doesn't miss anything.
She reached out for his arm, "Riddick, what happened?"
Concern was more than obvious in her voice.
He looked down at his arm, which was now in Jack's small hands. "Ah, kid, it's just a scratch, nothing to get all maternal about."
Jack pulled his arm closer, to better examine the cut. "It isn't just a scratch you big dumb oaf. You need stitches."
Riddick pulled his arm out of her hands. He didn't like to be referred to as a 'big dumb oaf.' "That will do, kid. I'll take care of it."
Jack glared at him.
"Fine," she said as she pushed past him to enter her room.
As she entered the room, Riddick spun around to look at her, but she, being vengeful, flipped on the lights just as his head turned.
Riddick yelled out, the pain light caused his eyes was one none could relate to. It was much like the feeling of a red hot poker being inserted into one's cornea.
"God damn, Jack!" He bellowed as he covered his eyes with one huge hand.
"Humph!" Jack said as she slid the door shut.
'What the hell was that all about? All I said was I could take care of it myself. Like I've never had to give myself stitches before. I got through the shine job with out and anesthetic, I can surely give myself a few little stitches. Damn, women are so fucking emotional. Can't you just push a button and turn that shit off? God damn lights! I should just take out all of the fucking bulbs; then she wouldn't pull that shit anymore.' Riddick thought as he regained his composure.
He would normally have beaten the shit out of someone for intentionally turning a light on is his face, but he couldn't very well do that to Jack. He was supposed to protect her, not kill her.
Jack's POV
'I will take care of it, he says. It's just a scratch, he says. No need to get maternal. Right… Just a scratch my ass. I'm sure he's been in a fight. Or worse... What do I care? He's nothing more than a big dumb oaf. Stupid ass hole. I didn't want to help him anyway. I hope his fucking arm falls off, then we'll see just how good he is at taking care of it himself.'
God, why is he such an ass? Oh sure, I'm just a kid, I can't do anything to help him. I can't even clean my own room.
Just a kid.
I hate that fucking nick name. I'm almost eighteen, that's got to mean something. He was killing long before he was eighteen, but I'm just a kid. Right…
Ass hole.
I'll show him just a kid. But how… How am I supposed to prove myself? There's nothing I have to offer him that he couldn't get himself.
I wandered the floor in my room for a long while, knowing it was a bitch of a thing to do to turn the lights on in his eyes. But he deserved it. He couldn't very well come in here with the lights on and yell at me, now could he?
Ha ha. I get the last laugh this time, Dickey.
God, I'm hungry. I wonder what's for dinner. I bet he doesn't even cook tonight. Why did I have to go and do an ass hole thing like that? Now I'm never going to get fed. Way to go me.
I flung myself down on my bed, desperately wishing I had some sort of snack in my room. But no… 'Snacks draw bugs.' What the hell kind of logic is that? If I had snacks in here, they wouldn't be around long enough to draw bugs. If I had them, I'd eat them.
He's dead wrong if he thinks I'm going out there. Dead fucking wrong.
End Jack's POV
A/N: Ok, heres the next chapter, as promised. I hope you guys are still enjoying it. I would love to hear what you think. You know, reviews do help along the writing process. (ugh here I am begging for reviews, how shallow is that?) Sway
