"I heard you do some …upgrades to people who ask." Riddick said looking over the man sitting on the stone bench.
The man looked at him, tilting his head to peer up at Riddick from where he was lazily leaning against the stone wall.
"Depends on who asks." The man said just as lazily as he sat.
"Riddick." Riddick announced.
"Then no." The man said easily.
"Why not?"
"You kill easily enough without an upgrade. You do not need one." The man shrugged.
"Not as easily in the dark." Riddick cut to the chase.
The man subtly perked up, green eyes focusing more clearly on him. Riddick faintly wondered if the man had given himself an upgrade, the way his eyes glowed and flickered like fire.
"You want an eye upgrade." The man said and Riddick swore his voice became delighted. "Not many desire such an obvious upgrade."
Riddick glanced about himself at the few people lounging in the same cell.
"An eye job is obvious?" he smirked.
A man near the wall snarled at him, jaw unhinging to show the rows of jagged teeth. The man against the wall snorted.
"These men did not ask for upgrade. They did not desire them. But they bothered me and I was bored."
Riddick had of course heard what happened to men who bothered The Surgeon. But he had also seen what happened to men who asked for an upgrade and got one. He wanted one that would not mark him as a complete freak but one that would be useful.
"Every upgrade comes with it's cons." The Surgeon said as if reading his mind, eyeing him with more interest now.
"I want to see in the dark." Riddick said.
"You will not see well in the light then." The man returned. "Light will become your enemy."
Riddick snorted and peered through the darkness around them. He was in a maximum security slam with more than a life sentence and no real security for prisoners. Men lived and killed and died down here. Anything to give yourself a leg up was sought after. Still, not many approached the Surgeon. Only one other person in this entire slam had a willing upgrade. She was a fierce as a hellcat with retractable knife-like-claws and a body that bend a great many ways it should not. She also had this nasty habit of playing with her prey.
"An eye job, huh." The surgeon hummed rising to his feet.
He was shorter then he looked. Shorter then he felt. He had this sort of immeasurable presence. You didn't sense him till he was there, but when you noticed him he encompassed all of your senses. Riddick resisted the urge to take a step back as fire green eyes focused on him with an intensity he could not achieve.
"I think you want a shine job." He finally grinned, teeth flashing white. "But it will cost you."
Riddick nodded.
"What do you want?"
"A pack of menthol cools."
Riddick paused. As little as that was, it would not be easy to get. Prisoners guarded their vices like they were gold.
"Deal."
The blow came from nowhere as soon as he said the word. Riddick snarled once in pain and surprise but he was already losing consciousness. The last thing he saw was wide gleeful green eyes.
.-.
When Riddick regained awareness he realized he was laying on cool rock, the air around him humid and chilly. He opened his eyes and then snapped them shut, snarling at the different sort of sensory input he gained from them.
"It will take a while to assimilate them, to get used to the new information they give you. They will give you a different view of the world. You'll probably see things in different colors now."
Riddick inhale the scent of his own blood and the crisp scent of water. Nothing else. He peered out of half lidded eyes and found himself looking up at a different colored man. The eyes were still a harsh burning green even with the new colors.
"How long?" He asked calmly.
"Depends on you I suppose." The Surgeon grinned at him, hand resting over his heart.
Riddick wanted to frown as he felt the heat of the man's hand seep into his bicep
"Your heart rate is already back to normal, your temperature is down, and you are already awake, so I would say not too long. If you mind is just as strong as your body, then no time at all."
Riddick eased himself up and glanced about. They were deeper under then he had thought. The air was far too cool to be on one of the upper levels near the mines.
"Where are we?"
"Just a level under the prison."
"There are no levels under the priosn."
"I made one."
Looking at green sharp eyes he didn't doubt the man.
"Do you have a name?" Riddick asked.
"They call me the Surgeon."
"A real name."
The man eyed him for a moment and then stepped back, drawing his hand away.
"I have been called many things." The Surgeon said. "A freak, a liar, a cheater, a fame-hound, a murderer, a champion, a defender, a child."
He seemed almost bitterly amused as he listed off the titles.
"But most of all I have been called a survivor." He grinned at Riddick. "And I've learned the easiest, best way to continue surviving is to be unknown, to have no one know who or what you are or what you can do. Best to be forgotten and over looked."
Riddick could not argue with that. Being known had not got him anywhere but prison.
"But you may call me by the name my parents gifted me. I am Harry."
"Nice to meet you Harry." Riddick mocked etiquette. "What is a man like you doing deep down underground trying to be forgotten, and yet giving out power like it's nothing."
"I'm bored!" Harry finally laughed. "And while deep in a slam is one of the best places to be overlooked and forgotten about, there isn't much in the way of amusement. So I make my own amusement. The human body can be quite the plaything. When you have the power and experience I do it bends to your will."
Riddick eyed the man, remembering the color of pale skin and the absence of lines and wrinkles. He remembered the youth that only pierced the skin and he remembered the fire and age in the eyes that still burned green despite everything else changing.
"I'll try not to spread around how I got my eyes then." Riddick said, sliding off his rock bed.
"Good, good." Harry smiled. "Not that it would matter. I can avoid being found so easily. Any who come to look for me will not find me unless I want them too."
Riddick had no doubt about that.
"Then I'll tell who I think could use a visit with the Surgeon."
By the time Riddick escaped the godforsaken slam, Harry was still sitting in his cell, surrounded by unwilling participants of his 'upgrades' and still giving that wide delighted grin when someone sought him out, eyes flashing like fire even in the darkness as he smoked his new pack of menthol cools.
.-.
When Jack asked Riddick how he got his eyes, Riddick paused for a moment. Then he considered the…girl before him and her act of being a boy and the way she looked at him with hungry desperate eyes that spoke of survival. She wanted to survive more than anything and would do so much to do so. But she…she also strove for any kind of compassion, any sort of person who would offer her safety and care. Anyone who would protect her.
Riddick didn't want her to want for companionship and safety. He wanted her to make her own safety, to be assured in her own power. She needed to be strong on her own. He considered holding the words in, not revealing anything while the captain was around. But then he realized the captain wouldn't take his words worth a grain of salt, but this child would. And she might someday heed them. He hoped the Surgeon took it easy on her.
"You gotta kill a few people first." He told her calmly.
.-.