A/N: Hey everyone! Christmas is next week so I wanted to push out at least one new chapter for y'all. Life has been absolutely nuts since my last update. Seriously. I could probably make a TV show out of it, it's so ridiculous. *sigh* Whatever. Anyway, I'll update the Tumblr account (snowflake13x) tomorrow, but since I only had one new review *coughmorereviewscomeonpeoplecough* I'll post my thanks here: Big thanks to Avon for reviewing! You actually kind of nudged me off my ass and moved me to update, so a big hug to you! Mood music for this chapter is Tritonal and Mr. FijiWiji - Seraphic. I might post a music video onto the Tumblr so you can listen. Usual disclaimer that Idon't own Riddick or anything along those lines.

Chapter 4

The four of us walked at a slow, leisurely pace, most of Chillingsworth's attention fixed on Riddick. Junner trailed behind us, a silent shadow. This woman was completely and utterly insane, and I had the sneaking suspicion that her second in command was in the same mental state, which did not bode well for us.

Chillingsworth was showing off her collection of statues - people, I reminded myself - like a proud parent talking about some award their child received. There were men and women, most of them nude, in various shapes, sizes, and poses. Some were coupled together, most were individual pieces.

"Hmm, okay," Riddick mused, "You go through all the trouble to catch these guys, and this is what you do with them."

"You're missing the point," she chided, an almost impatient note to her voice.

"What point?" was Riddick's dry reply. "You got a million U.D.'s standing around collectin' dust."

She stopped next to a twisted pair and creepily petted them, a faraway look in her eyes. I felt my lips twist into an expression of disgust, but one look from Riddick wiped it off my face. Keep it neutral, I reminded myself.

"You underestimate their value, Riddick," the crazy lady said softly. "They are priceless. Each, at one time, the most wanted man or woman in the known universe. The number of lives ended at the hand of those living and breathing in this room in incalculable."

"Ain't what I'd call living," the convict remarked. I swallowed, knowing Chillingsworth was lumping him in this group of statues and I began to see her plan. However, I still couldn't figure out why exactly I was here as well - by no means was I an experienced killer like Riddick, so why hadn't I been carted off with the other two?

She stepped away, pausing to gently stroke the face of a larger, fairly good looking male statue. Riddick and I shared a 'What the fuck?' moment before hesitantly trailing after her, Junner still quiet behind us. I didn't think I wanted to see the look on his face…I'm sure it would piss me off and I was already having a hard time keeping my emotions in check.

Turning my attention back to our hostess, I realized that she had moved forward again, entering into an adjoining room filled with even more statues, though these ones seemed more macabre. She stopped at curtained off, circular platform, and turned to face us.

"Just the same, I assure you they are all very much alive," she began her explanation and I automatically knew I wasn't going to like it. "Each one sustained in a form of cryo so profound…that second seem weeks…and to blink an eye is a day's work. The brain, however, continues to function unimpeded. The mind continues to think and feel, swarming with whatever dark thoughts it's trapped alone with, as it will be for hundreds of years." I felt my horror mounting the longer she spoke, beads of sweat reappearing on my brow; I had underestimated her level of crazy. When she paused, I had hoped she was finished with her spiel, but apparently I was wrong. "So much more fitting a fate than dropping them off at the nearest slam. Here, they are appreciated for what they truly are, transformed into objects on par with their lives' work. And why? Because I gave them the audience they so desperately desired, the recognition they bought with the blood of others, I understood their actions, stripped free of moral convention. Don't you see?" By this time she was almost pleading with the convict. "They're something greater now, Riddick. Something more than they ever were before…art."

Her eyes shifted towards me and I forced myself not to take a step back.

"Now, this one has potential, I can see it," she said, studying me. She stepped closer, circling me ever so slowly. "You've managed to get under his skin somehow" -she gestured towards Riddick - "proven earlier in the hangar."

I didn't say anything in my defense, because I had the sneaking suspicion she was right.

"You two would make a wonderful addition," she continued, skimming her fingers across my shoulders. I tried not to shudder. "The way I could position you would be simply marvelous. The Beast and his Beauty, so to speak."

She moved back to her original position beside the platform and looked at us expectantly.

"Lady, your taste sucks," Riddick said flatly. Her gaze met mine and I shook my head 'no'.

"I expected as much," she sighed, obviously disappointed. "Junner."

The tall man came forward and pressed a button on the remote control he held, lifting the curtains in front of us. We were standing on a balcony of sorts, a pit below us. Red lights illuminated the area, reminding me of blood. A handful of merc guards were stationed around the platform, including the one that hit Riddick in the face earlier. I didn't realize that I had stepped forward until the convict came up beside me, surveying, calculating. Chillingsworth joined him on the other side and he turned his head to look at her.

"You see, Riddick, there is a fundamental difference between you and I," she said softly, trying to get him to understand her logic. Yeah, it's called 'bat-shit crazy' logic, I thought.

"Yeah. You're a psychopath," Riddick responded calmly. I giggled inwardly, ignoring my inner voice that told me I sounded slightly hysterical. Great minds think alike.

Chillingsworth placed her hands on his face and I tried not to think about snapping her fingers.

"You don't appreciate art," she admonished. "But I believe the reason for this is something very different than you or anyone else might think. You're an artist."

Riddick shook her hands off and stared at her.

"I've been called a lot of things in me day," he said, one eyebrow cocked. "That ain't one of 'em."

This time I couldn't help but let out a sharp laugh, ignoring the glare the tall woman sent my way.

"You make art, Riddick, not analyze it. You shape it with your own hands, carve it from flesh and bone." She studied us both and shook her head sadly. "But a man like you does not understand such a thing by being lectured. You must experience it."

She gestured to Junner, who turned off the bluish overhead lights, bathing everything in the red glow from the lights below.

"Oh, shit," Riddick muttered, stepping forward another pace to look down into the pit. I followed and swore when I saw Jack and Imam balanced on large balls, their hands still cuffed, with ropes around their necks. The lights made crazy patterns on the floor, making everything look weird.

Jack glanced up and half smiled at us. "I said I'd find you, didn't I?"

I sent her a strained smile, wondering how we'd be getting out of this one.

"Eris, look out!"

I turned at Jack's warning to find two mercs behind me, both grabbing my arms in a tight grip and leading me towards the side of the platform.

"Riddick!" I shouted, twisting and thrashing, trying to escape their hold, but to no avail. The large man took a step towards me before Junner blocked his way. "Fuck you assholes, let me go!"

Chillingsworth started talking again, but I couldn't hear what she was saying over the sound of our struggle. Wherever I was being taken, I was making sure I fought the entire way. Not that it was doing much good, of course, since there were two of them and one of little 'ole me, but damnit, I tried. The mercs led me down a staircase on the side of the platform and into the pit where another large ball was rolled out and situated under a hanging rope. How did I miss that? I berated myself. Stupid!

The mercs shoved me up onto the ball and ordered me to put the rope over my head. I briefly thought about refusing, but quickly realized they'd probably have no issue about shooting me then and there, so I complied. From somewhere above, someone pulled a bit on the rope so it was snug around my neck. The two mercs laughed and walked away, heading back towards the platform.

"Hey guys," I said cheerily, smiling at Imam and Jack. "Long time no see."

"I think she's lost it," Jack whispered to Imam worriedly.

"I can hear you, you know. I am right here," I retorted, watching Riddick and Chillingsworth talk. I wasn't that good at reading lips, so I couldn't make out anything they were saying. "And I haven't lost it, I'm just putting on a good face for that crazy bitch up there and seriously hoping that Riddick has some sort of plan."

"You and I both," Imam muttered.

A large thud sounded behind two large doors a little ways from us and we all shared a look. I tried to keep my expression more worried than terrified for Jack's sake, but I didn't really think it worked too well. The doors slowly parted, shadows moving behind it. I shot a look up to the platform and noticed Riddick had his goggles atop his head. Oh, shit, shit, shit, shit. Not good. His shined eyes met mine and held. His were carefully blank while I knew mine had to be full of fear and desperation. All my joking aside, I was scared shitless. I saw a muscle in his jaw tick before he dragged his gaze away, focusing on the opening doors and whatever lay behind.

Alright lady, let's see what you got.