So I know it's been like a dozen years since I've updated and I'm sooooo sorry! But I've recently been coming back to writing my stories. I hope this still has some readers. I've typed more than this but I won't update the chapter until I get some reviews so I know it's still worth writing.
Thank you love you all! :3 Please review!
Helena was busy sorting through records and schematics when he walked in.
"Lenny?" She dropped a crate of papers and placed a firm hand on her hip, "I thought I sent you a message".
The red haired teenager shrugged and flexed his arms over his head, "I didn't get it". His hair looked as if someone had stuck a stick of dynamite in it and let it go off. The dark circles under his eyes and the blood shot look to them already told her enough. Lenny was an eighteen year old kid that flunked out of school as a sophomore. He was lanky, tall and seemed to get in trouble no matter where he went. The only reason she hired the boy was because he was an orphan trying to live on his own. He never told her where his parents were, nor why they've left him alone. Sounded familiar.
"I said you're fired!", Helena gestured out the door, "So turn your ass around and get out of my shop".
He rubbed his eye confusingly, "What, why? Will you stop all that yelling? Good Lord".
"Gee I wonder why", She picked up the crate and brought it over to the shelf holding all her files, "You passed out on me when I had an important customer. And that's not the first time it's happened".
"Come on Helena I overslept", he tried to reason.
"You overslept at night?" The older scoffed and gestured again, "Tough break".
Lenny rubbed his forehead, "I need this job Helena. It won't happen again I promise!", he pleaded giving her those big blue eyes. If he was a lick attractive it would have worked. "You know I can't survive on my own".
She glared at him him, leaning on the shelf, feeling like a mother scolding her child. In a sense she was his mother or at least the closest thing to it. Her forest green eyes melded with his.
"Please", he whispered.
Helena sighed, pinching her nose between her thumb and forefinger, "If you are so much as a second late ever again, you're going back to pizza delivery you understand?"
"Yes yes I promise I won't ever be late again!" he stated ecstatically, "Now what do I need to do?"
"Go…" she trailed waving him away, "Clean out the spare hyper drives. We have a few more orders coming in tomorrow night".
The teen bounded happily to the stock in the back of the shop. She watched him, seeing herself when she was his age. Meruda V wasn't a kind planet, especially to high school dropouts and orphans, and because of that kids left and right were turning to crime. Those that made it ; however, were moved into the upper class towns, leaving others to grovel with low wage jobs.
Like Lenny, like her.
Helena went back to her work. She put down the spanner and rubbed the scar on her wrist. It was in the shape of a perfect X just above her vein. Father said she cut it when she was really young and it took several surgeries to make sure her vein couldn't get ruptured again. Subconsciously she stroked the risen pale skin, another memoir from her father.
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It was almost eleven o' clock at night when Helena started feeling uneasy. She was fiddling with an air compressor for a shift system when the hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention. Her skin tingled like light electricity was buzzing under her skin. This kind of feeling only came when she was being watched.
Her eyes darted around the shop. It was sparsely lit, but nothing she couldn't see. The windows were covered with moth eaten curtains, but nothing but darkness was what she saw on the other side of them. Lenny had left hours earlier once he finished cleaning, leaving her to finish up on her own til midnight. Was he playing some kind of joke on her?
The air grew silent, too silent for her liking. She turned her back and went back to working with the compressor. A breath, like a gasp or exhalation, perhaps something someone wanted her to hear, reached her ears. It was heavy, gruff and masculine.
She turned suddenly, grabbing a wrench off the counter and clutching it tightly in her hands, "Who's there?"
Green eyes, alert, peered at the windows, at the darkened rafters of her ceiling. One of her lights sputtered in the corner, casting eerie shadows across the floor. Night was not a good time to be out alone, especially in the lower city. Her breathing slowed as she listened for what seemed like hours. Nothing moved, nothing made a sound except for the air conditioner and the occasional dog barks.
Kicking at an empty cardboard box the woman cursed, wiping the sweat off her forehead. "Getting paranoid". She was almost done cleaning out the device when the voice startled her.
"I knew you would be young". Dropping the tool in her hand she turned around. The voice continued, taking a whiff of the air, "But I had no idea you would smell so...innocent".
Her sharp eyes located the voice to a dimly lit corner in the room. She could have sworn there was nothing there earlier. The hairs on her body stood rigid as an uneasy feeling shot to her spine. There was something about his voice that made her feel helpless. Her eyes narrowed. In the corner, where light only touched the trespassers legs, a large man stood. His eyes were glowing? Or shining in reflection to the small light around him. Whatever the case, he was here watching her.
When Helena found her voice again she spoke, "Who are you? What-"
"-It's always the same questions". The figure swung himself up off the wall. His deep, raspy voice grated her sensitive ears. His body came into the light and her breath caught. "Who are you…", he mocked taking a step further. He was tall, at least several inches taller than her, with broad, muscular shoulders that flexed with every small movement. He wore a black wife beater, black cargo pants and boots. Hell even his goggles on top of his shaved head were black. Perhaps this was why she didn't see him.
"…What are you doing here", he continued still advancing slowly. He stopped only eight feet from her, leaning to one side slightly, "It would be a nice change if someone just offered me a drink every now and then".
Helena closed her gaping mouth and swallowed. She knew this man. You would have to live under a rock to not know the most wanted criminal in the universe. He was especially known on Meruda V for assassinating the vice president four years ago. Everybody assumed he was dead, killed by the necromongers that roamed the galaxies a year ago.
"Y-you broke into my shop", she spoke not taking her eyes off of his, which was harder than she imagined. "And you expect me to offer you a drink?"
He shrugged, "I've tried the whole knocking thing. It doesn't turn out so well for me".
Helena began inching her way to the door, scooting her body alongside the shelf as she spoke, "You're a criminal, a murderer". This wasn't helping her at all. What would Riddick, the infamous killer want with her?
'The hulk of a man began slowly toward her again. His feral eyes watching her every move like a panther waiting to pounce, "You believe everything you see on tv, doll?"
In a breath of a moment Helena was ready to bolt for the door, but the audible 'thunk' right next to her outstretched hand caused her to stop. Only centimeters from her skin a silver, jagged dagger stuck out of the wood. She didn't even see him get it out.
"One thing I hate about most of my victims", he continued, inching ever so closer. "Is when they think they can run".
He was close now, close enough to where she could feel the power radiating from him. The heat of his body enveloped the small area between them, causing her to shrink back even farther. She was almost one with the shelves by now. "Are you going to kill me?" she whispered.
He stopped then, a small smirk forming at the corner of his mouth, "That depends on the answers you give me".
Riddick watched her change in demeanor; the spark of hope lighting up in her eyes but still so clouded in fear it was quickly gone. If she was truly who the recently deceased purifier said she was then there was no evidence of it now.
"What is this about?" she asked, trying to regain some strength in her voice.
"Your father", Riddick replied flatly. Her large, green eyes widened at the words.
Helena couldn't believe it. What did her father have to do with Richard B. Riddick? Did he owe the criminal? Were they associated with one another at some time? "My father left me years ago. I haven't seen him".
"I'm not looking for him", the convict waved her words away quickly, "I'm looking for his daughter". His eyes caught hers once again, sending a ping of fear down her entire form.
Helena found it hard to control her shaking, "Why-what do you want with me? Where is my father? Do you know where he is?" Thunder started rumbling outside, sending vibrations down her spine and casting an eery blanket across the garage. How she wished Lenny or anyone else was here.
"Dead", was Riddicks cold-blooded reply. Perhaps he might regret laying it on her like this later, but for now he needed answers and fast before he lost her.
Helena felt her heart grow cold. All these years it felt as if her father might have been dead, but there was always a small hope that he would return, that he would stroll back into this shop they built together and be in her life once more. Now it felt as if there was nothing for her anymore.
"You killed him?", she whispered, bringing angry tears to her eyes. "You son of a bitch". It all made sense now.
The criminal set his jaw, "Your father was dead long before you even thought so. But before he threw himself into an inferno he told me about a set of coordinates he stored with you. A set of coordinates or a map vital to me, and I need them now".
"Get out of my shop!" Helena shouted through tears, "I don't' know what the hell you're talking about you murderer!"
Riddicks patience was wearing thin with each word coming from her mouth. He advanced, closing the gap between them, and was satisfied when he saw her fear return. "I'm not a patient man Helena. I've been searching for an entire year for you, and I'm not leaving you alive unless you spill the coordinates".
"I just said I don't know what you're talking about", she replied harshly between her teeth. "My father abandoned me out of the blue to go chase some 'dream' of his! He never said anything about coordinates or a map to me".
Before she could swing the wrench she had in her hand behind her back, Riddick grabbed her wrist. The tool clattered as it dropped to the ground. "Stop playing games with me", he hissed squeezing harder. His face was so close now he could see the reflection of his own eyes in hers and the small freckles covered slightly by grease smudges that marred the skin of her face. "The coordinates to the planet, my homeworld! Furya!"
"I don't-" She struggled to pull from his grasp, but she might as well have tried to move a brick wall. "Know what-"
Riddick still held fast to her wrist as she dropped her knees sobbing. He loosened his grip just enough, "Your father was Furyan, one of the last! He's been to Furya, knew the coordinates. He told me before he died that you now had them".
Helena choked on her tears and looked up at him through black, matted hair that was tied back in a loose ponytail. "You have the wrong man. My father was born here on Meruda V. He was just a mechanic".
The con squatted down to where he was eye level with her; his animal eyes searching through her own, looking for the slightest trace of a lie; the tell-tale sign that she was deceiving him in any way. He found none, and that is what upset him even more. Why would the purifier lie to him? Or is it that he truly didn't tell his daughter anything about who he was?
Unable to contain his anger he grabbed the wrench off the floor next to her. She shrinked back, as if he was about to hit her, but instead he threw the tool across the room and took a chunk of concrete out of the wall. Riddick breathed heavily, his powerful arms flexing as if ready to pounce on the slightest thing that angered him. Was all this a complete waste of time?
Helena sat perfectly still on the floor, not willing to move or even breathe as Riddick thought back to his last conversation with the purifier.
"There comes a time Riddick. When someone, no matter who that someone is bad or good, must play a part", the purifier spoke softly, the glowing hand on his stomach pulsating. "I lost my part because it wasn't mine to begin with".
Riddick just stood there, unable to comprehend that another of his kind was right in front of him. He had so many questions but couldn't find the will to ask. How he wished he would have said something then.
The older man put a hand on his shoulder, "It is time to reclaim what was lost to us". With that the purifier turned and headed toward his death in the desert fire.
"How?" Riddick shouted over the swirling winds.
He stopped, looked over his shoulder one last time, "The answer lies within the only thing I had left to keep me in this world Riddick. The one thing that I lost the moment I was converted". The purifier's dark eyes glazed over as if reminiscing over a long lost memory, but snapped back a moment later, "Find my daughter, Furyan. Within her lies the map to what you want the most".
Not giving Riddick time to ask more questions the man stepped out into the roaring fires of the planet, and became nothing more than ashes shifting through wind moments later.
It took him a year to find out where she was, and now it seemed as if it did him no good. There had to be something to it. Something he was missing.
"Find my daughter Furyan. Within her lies the map to what you want the most".
Riddick turned back around then, his eyes catching hers. She was still in a heap on the floor, shaking, cold and afraid. If she was truly half Furyan then it certainly wasn't showing now, but that wasn't why he came.
He kneeled once again, staring into her eyes. Outside the thunder rumbled before the rain started pouring; a reflection of what was going on in this very room. Perhaps she did know the location, but she just didn't know that yet. The purifier could have suppressed her memory. Perhaps the sarcophocis on the ship could delve into her mind and find that memory. It was a painful process if she resisted, but it had to be done. He needed it to be done.
"We're going to take a small trip Ms. Helena", before she could object a small needle was shoved into her arm and everything went dark.