A/N: It's been a while i know, sorry. Case of writers block, but i'm beating it i assure. Read, review and i'm a happy chica!

Chapter 9 – Things I've Seen, Things I've Done

For once, he allowed his curiosity to get the better of him and in doing so, found himself at New Mecca's central building of the police guard, where he was sure, the female murderer he had witnessed being cornered, had to be.

It was where they had the best security facilities. Well…to the standards on this planet anyhow.

Jack and her kisses still etched freshly on his memory, Riddick's thoughts were oddly collected, a little a buzz given the circumstances and sudden developments around him, but he felt he needed the fresh air anyway. It wasn't like he wanted to be kept cooped up all night either, so a little meet and greet and thanks to Jacks unlikely saviour was in order.

Stealthily, Riddick crept his way silently and undetected up to the building, easily making his way up onto the rooftop using gaps in the bricks of the wall, to sneak down through a skylight. This is too easy. He inwardly smirked, keeping to what little shadows the wide hallways had to offer.

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Cells

Staring at the dull grey wall on the other side of the room from her cage, eyes bore blankly, hiding the memories that flooded the murderesses mind as she recalled the events that had built her into such a ruthless taker of life.

She had discovered a taste for blood at a very young and usually innocent age. The part of a person's life where purity and naivety are usually preserved forever as that inner child, delicate and yet powerful in two colliding quantities.

Her first kill had been a matter of survival. Kill or be killed.

The son of a bitch had deserved every blow of that blade that she had rained down on him as an angry and suddenly soul vacant five year old. But his spilled blood would never replace or revive her mother. It would never bring back the life in her own eyes. She doubted her soul was even salvageable.

She had lived on the streets for almost a year after she murdered that man in cold blood and at six years old she shouldn't have understood the works of a mind that had taken another's life. She was subject to bullying more often than not by street kids, rich kids. But she fought back, built on her confidence. Learned how to survive on rats and rain water.

Survival seemed to be built into her mainframe – her inner killer craved for the blood and pretty soon it was more than just kill or be killed. She lusted the kill.

Every filthy scumbag she came across in her life, she would waste and her many decorative scars reminded her of the strength she had learned to build upon.

Her senses heightened to their best capability from the years of training she had endured herself through. Being an innocent looking vagrant child took her off whatever local authorities radars were looking for when they discovered the bodies.

There were many more deaths by her hands as she grew up, a loner. Hitch hiking secretly on ships across the universe. Many times she had been caught, and on most of those occasions she had been beaten and raped by the bastards that discovered her, then dumped on the nearest planet.

Aged twelve she was discovered hitching a ride on a merc ship. Not the best move on her part, but she was desperate.

The planet they had taken off from was notorious for child slavery and it was where the last ship's crew she had snuck upon dropped her off to fend for herself three years before.

The vessel was big for a mercs ship, telling her that they were either really good thieves, or just damn good at their job. But these mercs hadn't beaten her, they had taken one look at the feral glare in her eyes and saw the killer. So they manipulated it, used her to their advantage and kept her fed and clothed in the process. They bred a merc from a killer. Their worst mistake.

The one that disagreed with her being on the crew was Johns. The blue eyed devil. He left the crew not long after, on the hunt for some so called big shot murderer. News came round later when she was fifteen that Johns had been killed by the payday on some hell-like planet swarming with predatory winged abominations.

Arrogant moron.

They would never understand the resentment she harboured for their kind, but it paid well and by the age of eighteen she was one of the best mercs around.

But she hated it. She missed the rush of the kill. Lust for blood would keep her awake.

She snapped.

On one particular night, the team leader got nasty. Decided to have a little fun of his own, and made a misjudgement of character by pulling a move on her. She ghosted him for it, and all of a sudden the rush came back. The feel of complete control over some ones life in a sense of blood tickled her with need.

That night she slaughtered eight of the nine crew, one escaped. She never did find out or care where the idiot went. Simmons was his name, and besides her he had been one of the youngest on the crew. The stupidest, so it wouldn't surprise her if he were dead already.

Testing the restraints that kept her to the cage, she groaned at her predicament. One of the most feared and best killers goin'…. chained up in some dumb ass prison on a shitty little religious planet. Toombs if ya can hear me, I hate you brother. Rolling her shoulders she tried to ease the tension in her muscles.

The guards were too shit scared to be in the room with her after last time. But it wasn't like they had to worry…much. She was practically chained to every bar in this stupid metal cage. So all she could do was sit and wait patiently like a good little murderer until the mercs came and dragged her ass off to hell.

Continuing to stare contemplatively at the wall, she began recalling more events from her life when the air suddenly began different.

Silent…

There were four armed guards outside the cell door; she could smell their fear of her. Hear their breathing. Almost see the looks on their faces as they paced worriedly.

But now, she could only sense the presence of something similar to herself. Something lethal and mysterious lurking behind the solid metal door that kept her from civilisation.

It excited her inner demon. Made her flesh tingle with curiosity. Something masculine was outside her prison, and wasn't someone to be taken lightly.

The sound of a key twisting into the lock and bolts being shifted made a cold shiver snake up her rigid spine. Outwardly she was blank, emotionless.

Cold

But inwardly, she was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

It was playtime.

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Nudging the large steel door forward Riddick cocked his head to the side and shook his head, smirking at the four unconscious guards. This was way too easy

Turning back to look into the cell, he kept his head to on a slight tilt and slowly strode towards the female killer he had sensed from five levels up. Trust them to chain her up in the basement, musta freaked em. Hah, I like this chick already

Crouching in front of the cage he tested the strength of the bars and watched the prisoner intently.

Chains were coiled around her arms, legs and torso, effectively binding her to the cage with little movement. She was cold looking, almost reminded him of himself when he'd last seen his reflection. Whenever that may have been.

Gotta be around Jack's age… He noted mentally, taking in the build of her slim but athletic body. The scars and fresh wounds on her skin, or the skin that was visible to him presently in the dimly lit room, made him snap his attention to her eyes.

They no longer looked blank, but fierce. Defiant and restless.

"You got a name sweetness?" Her jaw twitched and he gave a soft, deep chuckle. "Aww c'mon princess, I climbed five story's to meet your sorry ass. And you just sit here and snarl at the wall? No escape? Sweetheart – don't lose your flavour." Her eyebrows quirked and her dark orbs seemed to glow much more fiercely as she sat, still and rigid as a statue.

"Visiting hours are over baby, and unless you fancy getting your throat slit, I suggest you get your dumb ass outta here. It aint a petting zoo little man." Riddick's brow shot up in amusement.

"I'm guessing you don't like the service." Her head cocked to mirror his.

"Or the company, present included." Riddick nodded and rose to stand at his full height, forcing her to look up at him from her seat.

"I don't get it." She rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Are we done with the pleasantries? Because I'm just itching for a fight." He pursed his lips and stared at her intently, well aware that she wasn't able to see his eyes behind the dark goggles.

"Why would some psycho-bitch killer save the life of a girl she doesn't even know…from a bunch of dirty, perverted minded mercs…" He folded his arms and tapped a finger to his lips. "Maybe, just maybe the girl reminded her of herself." The prisoners' eyes narrowed.

"So your buds with the girl whose ass I happened drag outta a sticky situation. Your welcome. Now bye bye, I'm bored of you and your damn goggles." Riddick laughed again a small smile making its way onto his face. Hellcat, not much for company huh?

"Little girl, I'm offering to get your ass out of here. You honestly wanna go back to slam? I mean c'mon, they'll chain you up, beat the shit out of you and fuck knows what else." She sighed and closed her eyes. "And I'm stood here offerin' you a way out." Her eyes snapped back open and as she looked back up to him, he pushed the goggles up onto his forehead and leant down to her eye level as she spoke in an oddly calm tone.

"What's the catch? You think your gonna get a piece of my ass? How do I know you aint gonna sell me out to mercs motherfucker? I don't even know your sorry ass. How do you know I wont try and ghost your hide?" She leant as far forward as she could, eyes narrowed. But then she caught sight of the silver orbs that now stared silently back at her and her mind reeled. Where had she seen eyes like that before? Or heard those eyes mentioned?

This guy had a shine job, and they were hard to come by. She only knew of a few people ever having a surgical shine, and all of them were supposedly dead.

"I'm Riddick." Apparently, Richard B. Riddick wasn't dead.

She had sure as hell heard of him, not much to go by, just that he was lethal, not to be fucked with and in her career she had been more than once referenced as a similar killer to him. He was a myth. A legend. He had killed Johns. "And I aint after any favours or shit. I just see it fair I help the saviour of my little Jack." She squared her jaw and focussed on his eyes.

"Kirra." Riddick pulled the keys, which he had used to open the cell door with from a back pocket and fumbled for the correct ones to free the enigmatic creature in the cage.

Huh, names herself 'Dark Lady'…. this girl reeks of death. Ha, maybe we could create out own merry band of crazies. "Well Kirra, it's nice to finally meet ya." He drawled. "Promise to play nice?" She growled, something feral that made him shake his head with a smirk but he proceeded to free her anyway. She looked like she could do with some medical attention and he was going to return the favour for saving Jacks life whether she liked it or not.

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