Metallic jingling slowly pulled Riddick back into the world of the living. It was loud, violent, and aggravating the hell out of his throbbing head. He opened his eyes slowly, testing the light. From where he was, he could see. Actually see. Wherever Johns had set up him, Johns had stuck him in the dark for some reason. The bottom of the crash ship, right below the cryotubes. The place where he'd nearly killed Johns that morning. His hands were cuffed and chained to the beams around him. He was seated on a surviving crate.
The jingling grew louder, coming from...in front of him. Fed up with the noise, Riddick lifted his head. His sight quickly fell on the Mimic, once again chained with her hands above her head. Well, the chains were around her elbows, holding her bodies weight on the beam while her arms are secured behind her head. Her feet were secured to the beam behind her, effectively preventing her from moving. Her hood still remained over her face, but that didn't stop Riddick from staring at her camouflaged features. Brown hair, brown eyes, no scars, no tattoos, completely concealed in an illusion.
The Mimic ceased her moving, as if she felt his eyes on her, and turned toward him. She held his gaze beneath her hood for a moment. Her lips slightly turned at the corners. "Damn. She got you good."
An annoyed growl escaped Riddick's lips. The bitch was, no doubt, referring to the kick Shazza had dealt him earlier. His fists tightened, suspended by the cuffs. He leaned back, still holding her gaze.
"Never thought you'd let a woman get the best of you." she continued with her taunted. Riddick hadn't known what to expect from a Mimic. They were known for manipulating the attributes of others. Yet this voice that he heard, the one that seemed to flow effortlessly from her lips, this was not an imitation. This deeply seductive voice, that was genuine. Too bad she didn't take into consideration of the words she was spitting.
"How bout you say something useful?" Riddick suggested.
The taunting look in her eyes vanished with a flash. The turns of her lips fell before his eyes. Everything that had been done at his expense vanished within seconds, restoring that look she'd had when he first encountered her; desperation. Even her voice, sultry as it had been moments ago, took on a different tone. "You should have killed when you had the chance."
That caught Riddick's attention quickly. He tilted his head to once side, watching her closely. He'd met men who claimed to be the shit. Men who killed for sport and money, the scum of the universe, but when it came down to it, most of them begged for their lives. Begged not to die. But her? Her. She begged to die, begged him with her eyes, silently pleading to die. The Mimic lowered her head toward the ground, dropping her face out of his sight. Her tense muscle relaxed, easing the tension on her strains, physically surrendering to her fate. "Didn't peg a Mimic like you to be suicidal."
"I'm not." she snapped bitterly
Riddick shrugged as if she had told a joke, and he didn't find it funny. "Ain't what I saw then. Ain't what I'm seeing now."
The Mimic didn't say anything.
"You know, I've heard these stories of convicts that would rather die than go back to slam." Riddick rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the stiffness that he was starting to feel. He wasn't one who liked to stay in one place for too long. When he was hunting someone, he could wait for hours, but here? Bound with chains, nah, he's rather move to keep himself from getting too stiff. "Not really seeing why they're so desperate to die."
At that, she spoke. "If it was slam waiting for me, I wouldn't fight." She lifted her head to meet his eyes. Her brown orbs flashed violet for a second, almost too fast for him to catch. Almost. "Slam is where Johns will drop your sorry ass. But me...I'm not that lucky."
Riddick arched one of his brows at her words. "So...where are you going?"
She rose onto her knees and leaned toward Riddick, curving her spine. Riddick couldn't help but admire her flexibility. Not brought on by her little tricks of sight, this was her personal flexibility, pure and simple. And damn it was sexy. The curve of her spine as she leaned toward him, on her knees, arms bound behind her head, she could give him plenty of incentives on a lonely night. "Where hell began. Where each body count cost ten time more than the best whore. Where laws and conscience don't exist. Where they cut open the living to watch them suffer and heal. Where they peel away every ounce of life we hold until there is nothing but an empty shell. Where I spent the first seven centuries of my life, trying to escape."
Riddick was quiet. He'd heard about the science experiments on Mimics, but he hadn't heard the graphic, gory details. Never wanted to. Last time he tried to fix shit like that...well he ended up on this shithole of a planet. His conscience got in the way. Only his fate was merciful compared to hers. Damn, there came the pity again. He really needed to bury his conscience deeper.
"So sorry my willingness to die doesn't meet your approval, Riddick." she spat, lowering herself back to the ground, giving up once more. "I'm going back to hell. And I don't want to."
"And you ain't going quietly, are you Brisais?"
Riddick watched the Mimic-Brisais-stiffen. Every muscle in her body became tense in the cuffs. He could hear the chains click together from her grasp behind her head. He could make out the flash of violet, a different flash that he'd seen a few minutes ago. The shift alone sent an alarm to his own senses. And a low growl seemed to escape her lips. Her eyes were trained on the ground as if her life depended on it. Johns stood a few yards behind Brisais, well out of her line of sight, but not out of her line of smell. It was more than enough to know how far he was from her simply by taking in his scent.
John smirked and reached down to the control on his hip. "Easy girl." He pressed the charge button, sending Brisais into a fit of electrically induced convulsions. Sais' body ceased as the current shot through every muscle and nerve. She screamed in agony, unable to block out the pain coursing through her body. Johns let up off the switch and ceased the current coursing through the collar. Riddick watched as Sais' body went limp, letting the restraints take her entire weight. He could hear her sputtering, erratic heartbeat, hammering in her chest.
Johns pressed another button on the control, releasing the magnetic lock on her restraints. He walked in front of Brisais and eased her body out fo the chains. He reengaged the cuffs and hefted her body over his shoulder. "You and I are gonna have a little chat, darlin'." He turned around to face Riddick. "And you. Well, don't go anywhere. You've done a fine job scaring the shit out of everybody with that stunt."
"Didn't kill Zeke." he muttered. "But whatever did certainly made a lot of noise."
"I'm sure they did." Johns replied, giving a sadistic smirk that gave Riddick an overwhelming urge to punch the fucker in the face. As Johns weaved his way to the darkest, furthest place on the crashship, Riddick never felt an even stronger urge to kill the sick bastard, than just to get rid of him. He jaw clenched with his fists and closed his eyes tightly. What was coming next was something he really did not want to hear. Bounty hunters were needed to hunt the convicts. Or so, that's what thev government believed, but that was as ar as their concern went. However way the convicts were captured, or return, it wan't anyone's concern. So it wasn't a surprise that a female Mimic was treated with the same disgusting treattment as other female convicts. Convict or no-no woman deserved to be degraded.
By some miracle-or not-Riddick didn't get the pleasure of hearing Johns "conversation" with Brisais.
"So where's the body?" Fry demanded. She stood in front of him. Her hands were placed on her hip, trying to look intimidating to him. But Riddick didn't appear to be intimidated...or interested in any way. "You wanna tell me about the sounds?" Still nothing. "Look, you told Johns you heard something."
Riddick still remained silent, leaning back in the shadows.
Fry nodded. She was sick of his bullshit and sick of wasting time. "That's fine. You don't want to tell me, that's your choice." She turned around and stepped toward the opening, pausing only long enough to look back. "But just so you know, there's a debate right now as to whether we should leave you here to die."
Take a shit lot more than leaving me here to kill me. Riddick thought. Still, it couldn't hurt to have a little fun while he could-at least until John returned. "You mean the whisper's?"
The sudden sound of his low voice caught Fry's attention. She stopped almost instantly, turning her attention back on him. "What whispers?"
"The one's telling me to go for the 'sweet spot'…just to the left of the spine, fourth lumbar down. The abdominal aorta." He answered coolly. In truth, he shouldn't enjoy watching her squirm as she did with disgust, no matter how she tried to hide it. But it was oddly satisfying. Riddick tilt his head to one side, continuing his explanation. "It's a metallic taste, human blood. Copper-ish. But if you cut it with peppermint snaps that goes away-"
Fry shook her head. She was definitely tired of his twisted shit now. "Do you wanna shock me with the truth now?"
Guess the games over. Riddick noticed her shift in temper. "All you people are so scared on me. Most days, I take that as a compliment. But it ain't me you gotta worry about now. And it ain't Brisais either."
"Show me your eyes." Fry demanded
Ballsy. Riddick thought. "You'd have to come a lot closer for that."
Fry took a determined step toward Riddick, keeping in mind that the distant was all that could stand between life and death.
"Closer." he urged.
Fry stepped closer. The moment she was in range, Riddick burst from his seat moving as close to Fry as the chains let him. Fry flinched backwards, her courage giving out, but she noticed Riddick could only go so far and relax. It was then she noticed his eyes, or what would be his eyes. Instead, she found herself staring in a dark void that reminded her of black pearls. The luminous orbs flickered in the dark light.
"Where the hell can i get eyes like that?" came a voice.
Fry turned quickly. Jack was standing on the last step of the ship, staring at Riddick.
"Gotta kill a few people." Riddick answered without missing a beat. If the kid wanted to know the hell ou went through for his sight, why bullshit them.
"Okay. I can do it." Jack replied eagerly.
"Then you gotta get sent to a slam where they say you'll never see daylight again. You dig up a doctor and you pay him-menthol Kools...to do a surgical shine job on your eyeballs." he finished.
"So you can see who's sneaking up on you in the dark." Jack finished with a smile.
Riddick smirked. The kid was smart. "Exactly."
"Leave!" Fry ordered sharply.
Jack blinked and looked at Fry. His look of excitement vanished as if he suddenly remembered who else was there.
"Leave." Fry repeated with a softer voice.
Jack turned and climbed back up the stairs.
"Cute kid." Riddick said. He sat back down on the bench and looked up at Fry. She was visibly shaken by what she'd seen and the kid hadn't made it any easier for her. He'd had his fun for the day, it was time to cut the bullshit. "Did I kill a few people? Sure. Did I kill Zeke?" he paused at the question. He could sense fry's edge growing. "No. You got the wrong killer."
"You gonna pin this on the Mimic?" Fry asked. "Cause we dragged her ass back here before Zeke was killed."
"Never said it was her." Riddick reminded.
"Then tell me who, because Zeke's not in the hole." Fry replied. "We looked."
"Look closer." he stated. He watched as Fry back peddled from his statement.
"We'll do that." Johns said, coming back into view. He dragged Brisais behind him, still bound in her restraints. "Brisais here, just volunteered for the job.
Riddick arched one of his brows and dropped his gaze to the Mimic. Her hood was still over her face, hiding it from sight, but that didn't keep the scent off her body, or hide how her walking was altered. Bastard did a number on her in a few minutes. Riddick felt his temper boil higher…and he didn't like how the damn Mimic was effecting him.
"You sure that's a good idea?" Fry asked.
John smirked. "Absolutely."
sorry, I really needed to edit this chapter. Kinda make Brisais' situation and treatment more deplorable than it sounds like in the original chapter.