Escape | By : talvari737 Category: M through R > Pitch Black Views: 3631 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2 |
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own Riddick, or any of the characters from the CoR verse, so therefore, I make no profit from this. Just like everyone else, I really, REALLY, wish I did. Or that I could just have Riddick. But I c |
This is my first fanfiction, so let me know what you think. Flames welcomed. Let me know if its something that sounds interesting!!
The ships’ hold was dank and smelled of stale piss and who knew what else. Most of the small room had been stripped of anything that could be called valuable down to the bare necessities. One small area looked out of place, however. It was al shiny and new- a binding unit for their captives.
From the outside, it would be hard to tell if it were a merc ship or not. It was pretty to look at, after all, and a decent size. Even the first few steps on board would not arouse suspicions. But after that, it looked much like the holding area. Fortunately for those who lived on board, it smelled a fair bit better. Everything was still stripped, though it looked far more like a living space then the back holding bay. It was split into four main areas, this ship. The very front being the pilot and co-pilots area. It was roomy with two comfy seats and a small pull-down bed. A fridge that held nothing but alcohol and a gun rack were about the only other items worth notice. The main living area held a small kitchen where food was stored and pushed out by the ships automated cooking systems… Though it could be heard most nights that the system definitely needed an upgrade, no one would complain in front of their captain. The living area also held a couple of ratty couches, a table, and a vid screen where old movies and music could be played. It was dirty as hell. Cards, empty shot glasses, cigarette butts, and other odds and ends littered the floor.The third area held the living quarters. Three tiny ‘rooms’, if you could call them that, were crammed into this space. The best one held the captain’s quarters. A large bed for himself and the prostitutes he would get now and then, another ‘fridge stocked with alcohol, and various other paraphernalia. Like most mercs, he didn’t carry many personal belongings with him. After all, it’d be stupid too.
The second room held the majority of the crew. Six men bunked together in their six small cots. Another vid screen was mounted on the wall, looping a string of old crappy porn flicks. More trash littered the floor.The last and smallest room held the only two females on board. One was a whore and didn’t mind being used as one, as long as she was given benefits. The other was a loner. “Fuckin’ a with this cryo-sleep shit,” The loner muttered, watching her bitch of a roommate sleep in suspended animation. “Oh but it’d be too easy to slit her throat and be done with it,” Cryo-sleep had always made her sick. She never actually slept and normally shed have what felt like a hangover that lasted a good few weeks once unhooked.She slid the whet stone down her five inch blade, now and again testing the edge with her thumb. She was nervous as hell, and only the sheen of sweat on her forehead showed it. The crew had gone into cryo sleep only about an hour before, and she was looking at about a months trip all on her lonesome if she didn’t act now. Not to mention, she might be found out and then she’d really be fucked. She jiggled her leg nervously. Its not like I could just ghost them all myself, she thought again for what must have been the hundredth time. I’ve never been trained properly in combat and by the time I ghost even one of them, the alarms will sound and they’ll all wake up. I’d be screwed.She sighed, running her thumb down her blade again. Knives she knew. Her brother had loved making them and had taught her how to keep them clean, keep them sharp. Even taught her a bit of blade play, so to speak. Too bad these fuckers had guns, though. Otherwise she might have a chance. Too bad for her that she’d signed on with such a big crew. Then it might have been easier. But stupid her, she didn’t think things through. She just wanted to get off that damn planet. She should have planned, should have done research. “Fuck!” She exclaimed again, nicking her thumb against the blade. Immediately she stuck her thumb in her mouth, the coppery taste of blood coating her tongue. She needed to calm down. When her plan went through.. if it worked… Well, we’d get there when we get there, won’t we? She thought to herself. If I make it through this alive. “It’s now or never, Cierce,” She muttered to herself. She stood up after making sure her thumb wasn’t bleeding anymore and checked herself out in her roomies’ mirror. There was no doubt she was pretty. She had heard it all her life. Kinda why she was on the run now. Why she had signed up with a bunch of mercs. Why they had taken her aboard. She stood at about 5’7” and had a lean but athletic build. Long dark hair, which was usually kept in a tight braid, was allowed to flow down her shoulders in a silky wave. Ice blue eyes- the only thing that made her resemble her father- stared at her from her reflection. Her skin was a rich honey color, and marred only by two scars; one that ran three inches from under her right ear to just under her chin, and another over her wrist. The first was white and looked much like a small, thin, coiled rope. The second looked much rougher, like all of her skin had been burned off. Truthfully, it had been rubbed raw. Her figure, which normally she held in check with an ace wrap and some loose fitting cargo pants, was let free as well. Well rounded b-cup breasts pushed at the white cotton tank top. Normally, she’d never be caught dead without a bra. But she had to admit, it was a nice effect at the moment. Her adequately curved ass accentuated the flow of the short black skirt she wore. Three inch knee high boots, mechanic style, finished off her out fit. “Now or never,” She repeated again, sliding her blade into a specially rigged sheath inside her boots. She checked the systems to make sure that the crew was down and out. Definitely. She opened the door to her room and stepped out into the cramped hallway. She leaned into the captain’s room briefly to grab what looked like a small remote control. She slipped it into her pocket, then began to pick her way towards the hold. Her nerves were shot as hell. Was she really about to do this?Caught, again. Didn’t much matter to him, really. Meant a few months in some shit hole slam and then he’d be back on the run again. He growled and tensed his arms a bit, just testing out the set of restraints on him.
Not a bad system, really. Thick shackles were snapped around his wrists and attached to the wall, keeping his arms completely out stretched. He was stuck in a sitting position, a rather large metal belt around his chest keeping his back taut against the metal wall behind him. His legs were set forward and shackled in two places; at his shins and at his ankles. A metal ‘bit’ was in place over his mouth, which kept him from one of his favorite pass times, taunting. The whole thing wasn’t really comfortable, but he was used to that.He guessed that they had been traveling for about a week now. He had seen the various crew at one point or another, though he didn’t take much interest in them. Kinda surprised that there were two women aboard, but once he had smelled the one female, it was obvious why at least she was on board. She reeked of the smell of sex and sweat. The other female… Well he had only gotten one glimpse of her, and she looked to be like the mechanic type. No biggie there. He liked to type the crew in case he got ambitious. Didn’t like to ghost innocents, or women, for that matter, unless they gave him reason. He was straining against the restraints again, more as something to do then for any real reason, when he got the first whiff of something not piss related. That distinctly feminine smell. Sweat, so sweet and salty. He lifted his head, though knew there was no point in looking; he had goggles on and it was far too dark in this particular hell hold. He tilted his head slightly to the side instead, listening for any noise that would give him a clue. There, the sound of boots on metal. Must be heeled; they echoed too freely. The swish of fabric, hitched breath, then the faint metallic grinding of the door opening. Sound and smell were suddenly so much stronger. He growled softly as it hit his senses. Arousal. ‘Well, fuck me,’ He thought. Maybe it was that whore wanting a piece of him. No thanks. He had too many whores in his day. Their smell made him sick now, so he was surprised that this particular woman smelled so… alluring. The sound of her approach grew and he knew the instant that she stopped, she was standing right in front of him. He was weary even as his cock started twitching. It had been a few and far between lately and both him and his animal side were turned in and tuned into the smell of her. When a hand touched his face, he turned towards it even as he growled. The hand on his face ran up and tugged on the strap to his goggles. He only allowed himself a minor quirk of one of his brows when they slipped of his head and he was allowed to look at the woman before him. And what a sight to behold. The male in him was very appreciative of how the fabric clung in all the right places, and were it showed tempting bits of tanned flesh. He was surprised to find that it wasn’t the whore after all. It was that quiet mechanic chic. Well if that didn’t beat all. What the fuck did she want?He growled again as he got another whiff of arousal… and fear. His beast was loving the mixture. It wanted to roll in the scent, to take it and make it his own. But he was also very weary. This whole scenario was just too fucked up. He was on a merc ship, headed to a slam way out in the middle of fuckin’ nowhere. All the crew should by in cryo’, and this chick shouldn’t be standing in front of him, dressed like she is.
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