NC-17 for violence and disturbing images

A/N: 12/2/2006: Finally! Completely new chapter, the other were erased so the story is heading in a new direction.

Power

Kyra was exhausted after fighting Vakko. "Laila", what the hell kind of name was that, anyway? Argh, and apparently Riddick was on a first name basis with her as well. That pissed her off. Then again, he never tried to hide anything from her, it's not like he promised her anything. Technically, they weren't even in a relationship. He's mine! Even if it weren't in a sexual way, he had been hers since they first met, and Jack was still Jack. She tagged him, followed him everywhere. Finally, he took his leave, and she made a big show of being upset.

It wasn't so. She was grateful for the release. Riddick watched her like a hawk, and could almost always tell when she lied. Finally, she learned how to follow him on his night escapades without him knowing. If you don't act like you're following someone, they won't know that you are following them. So Jack always had an alternative. This time, she trailed him, and when he went to his deserted planet, she went to hers.

On Earth she went and circled the city she had lived in for so long. Chicago had a cold, unwelcoming feel when she stepped foot near her old haunts. Finally, after a week of following him around, she made the hit. It was late on a Tuesday night, and she was in the bathroom of a tiny apartment, her hands and feet pressing against the wall as a man stepped in, unzipping his pants. When the steady stream of piss ceased, she swung down and threw all of her weight on him. This had been carefully planned in her mind, something that would finally make him pay for all of the pain he had caused her.

The drunkenness wore off when the cold steel of her shiv pressed against his throat.

"Hello, daddy.," Jack purred. She pulled back, holding the steel to his throat with a steady hand. She pulled the gun from her waistband and steered him towards the bedroom. "It's time for you to understand what it's like," she said and he tried to run. "Tsk tsk. You should know better. A capable woman with a gun and a knife? Not a likely chance for escape." He shook and said, "What do you want from me?"

"No more talk. Take off your pants," she ordered. Her father stared at her with horror. "You can't be serious," he said. She cocked the gun. "Oh, I think I am."

Hurriedly, he pulled his pants off, thinking that if he hurried up and did what she told him he'd be free soon. He was wrong. Enough small talk, you have to finish him! She threw two pairs of handcuffs at him and told him to cuff himself to his ramshackle bed. He did, and she cuffed his left hand to his left ankle and left the other half spread out. I will enjoy this, he deserves it. Jack took the knife, and instead of doing what she'd like to do with it, she sheathed it. "Daddy, what do you think is more painful? A shiv or dental floss?" He shuddered and made his second mistake, "Dent-dental floss," he stuttered. "Ahh, but that's where you're wrong. I thought up this lovely way to get you back for all of the pain you caused me. How about I show you just how painful floss really can be?" And she did. Slowly and deliberately, she twisted the dental floss around his limp dick, pulling gently. He screamed. She pulled harder, cutting into the flesh. The screams increased in intensity. With a final pull, she cut through his member. He screamed in agony, and she snickered. "You always were a wuss. If you were a man, you wouldn't need to molest an eight year old for four years." He stopped screaming, his screams reduced to free-flowing tears. She picked up the severed dick and tossed it on his stomach.

Now for her favorite part. "Daddy, I won't even tell you what I'm using next…." She pulled a spork from her pocket, and jammed it swiftly into his balls. He screamed again, crying and whimpering. "Ahh, it's not over with. Slowly and deliberately she used the spork to slice and chop his balls off. This, she didn't just throw on his stomach. His screams ceased when she crammed the sac down his throat. "That's why I didn't use a gag," she told him, "because you get to eat your balls, suck your dick, and then, just maybe, I'll kill you." After five minutes of watching him gag on his own balls she crammed his dick down his throat and said, "You don't deserve death, you deserve worse. But tonight you get off easy." She whipped her shiv out and sheathed it again, this time in his heart.

That was the night Jack became Kyra. Her old demons were banished. That's why Kyra was so strong. Believe it or not, she was a better person for that terrible experience. That's why she could see Riddick as more than a killer. Nobody had ever feared her father, except herself as a child. There was a reason for everything, and she learned fear was reversed. Riddick wasn't to be feared, but understood. He had immense power and the ability to use it. So did she.

Let's put that power to good use. Not the same kind of power. How about something different?

Kyra went to Riddick's chambers to shower. She didn't want to be in the room with Dame Vakko's body. Finally, she dressed in her favorite color, an emerald green gown made of a fabric the Necromongers knew nothing of, an Earth fabric called chiffon. Two layers made the strapless dress slightly more than transparent, and two inch heels only added to her allure. Time for dinner, to be showcased at Riddick's right hand. Or not. Tonight, every Necromonger that had ever admired her would be permitted at her side. A month of healing left her feeling nearly whole. No more time being docile. The hellcat wanted revenge.