Chapter 3 – Bachelor
At 3am somewhere in New Mecca a studio apartment lay in ruins. Barbells lay scattered across the floorboards and the walls where stained with blood. A doorway stood torn, the wood splintered, the pull-up bar attached to it hung pitifully, the thick metal bent and twisted. Even though it was dark outside all the lights remained off, only two silvery eyes pierced the darkness, this and the sound of rough rugged breathing. Riddick sat legs folded in the centre of the chaos attempting to control his breath.
Training had gone well, that was until he had gotten carried away and thrown a 110Kg Barbell across the room, when it had crashed into the smooth floor his temper had reared up like an angry beast and he had continued to destroy the room tearing anything he could apart, ripping up the punch bag and smashing the lime green walls with Olympic weights. Accompanying the carnage with guttural animal roars.
Now he was placid, thinking. He had already decided to use the time he had to train himself. To improve just as Jack was. Once it had been his only ambition, to be the best, to be unstoppable. Now he sought to beat himself, for he knew if he became weaker than the animal rage within him he would be victim to its impulses. Mate. Sleep. Hunt. Kill. Feed, his lips tingled for the metallic taste of blood. Often this lifestyle left any humanity remaining filled with turmoil.
Who am I? What am I? Will there ever be anything more for me than just surviving?
After two hours of meditation Riddick booted up a portable com system. Logging into a website entitled ''. He had discovered the sight in an online chess tournament and after impressing the members by winning the tournament without a single loss had been invited to join its elite ranks. The site consisted of constant tests and tournaments, the competitors consisted of the universes smartest and most logical minds. From tactical strategists to teams of teenagers sat in basements, it was the perfect place to expand the limits of a mind as quick as his.
After simultaneously winning three competitions and joining several debates on ship course calculations Riddick signed out. He stood up stretching out his joints and being rewarded with a satisfying 'crack'. His eyes slowly drifted to his side, he released a shiv from its hiding place near his thigh and traced his finger gently along the edge. It was sharp as always, he expected nothing less from his most trusted allies.
He sucked in a deep breath listening to the beast within, he knew what it wanted. Carefully he dragged the sharp blade along the smooth caramel skin of his forearm. Where he traced his picture blood spilled gently, each droplet almost dancing to the steady rhythm he kept. The blade made one long rivet and then withdrew from the now scarlet canvas. Riddick lifted the blade to his lips, inhaling the rich sent before sliding his pointed tongue along the rim. He let the exotic taste fill his senses allowing himself to savour the taste, he then dipped his head to his arm and drank thirstily until the flow ceased and only the faint pink crevice he had carved remained.
Had enough? You freak! What the fuck am I playing at, got to stop this man, it's not right.
Breakfast; perhaps food will bring sanity...Steak!
In hindsight Riddick felt perhaps steak was not the sanest of breakfasts. He had it raw and enjoyed the blood that soaked into the thick slice of meat.
Tastes bloody brilliant though!
