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Autumn Fires	By : reinla Category: M through R > Pitch Black Views: 3255 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Pitch Black or any of the other Riddick Movies. Nor do I own Vin Diesel, as much as I want too.I make no money or profit from this story. Autumn Fallon, however, is mine.

Chapter List
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I don’t remember when my first cognizant thought was but I know it wasn’t anything like ‘momma’ or some such nonsense. Not in here. I shouldn’t even be alive but when I didn’t just croak as a baby, when I survived healthy despite the abhorrent conditions of the slam that I was in, the guards thought better of trying to off me. I was another pay day, at least when I got old enough. It wasn’t hard to forge documentation, to make the world think I was just some convicted murderer. The guards were smart enough for that, so they raised me as best they could until I would be old enough to do them favors.
I think my first vivid memory was when I was eight. That was the first time someone even bothered to address me by a name. Before then I was just ‘hey girl’ or ‘you little brat’. Nothing of significance. My own mother was dead and no one really knew who my father was or how my mother ended up in this particular slam. The rumor, of course, was that my father was also dead. It was one of the guards who named me, decided that they would call me Autumn because my hair reminded them of the colors of changing leaves back on their home planet. Something about them having a fall season where the green leaves turned reds and browns before falling. I remember feeling rather impressed by the name, moved even. No one had bothered to make me feel important enough to have a name.
After that moment I was supposed to do everything the guards wanted, even if I didn’t want to. Some of the other convicts understood my dilemma. I had no family, save for one old man who was close to dying. He was the only true father figure I had. Maybe that was my problem. I let the convicts raise me and threw caution to the wind in regards to defying the guards. It wasn’t exactly the smartest plan, not for a little kid. What was I supposed to do? I was in the bowels of Butcher’s Bay, a triple max slam that didn’t really let any of us see daylight. I was used to the winding tunnels and the sounds that lurked in the darkness. I had become familiar with the area, and it was my companion in the years.
One of the first things that anyone learns in a slam is that you have to survive. The weakest are always picked off and done away with. It’s not like the guards cared any. For them we were just paychecks and, unless someone audited the books, they still got paid. I was one of the lucky few; Matlock, the old man that decided I was worth his time was one of the few convicts that actually had smarts. He was the only one I remember actually speaking correctly and he always forced me to act like the lady he knew I’d become one day. Around him I had to speak correctly, walk correctly. There was a method to this though. He hoped that if I ever found a way out of the slam I could blend in, could become some decent lady and hide my heritage. He was mostly right.
I know you are probably asking yourself why everyone thought I was weak. If I grew up in the slam, wouldn’t I be stronger? Well you’d be right on more than one account. The guards protected me until I was ten, but then I got the notion that I didn’t have to actually do a damned thing they said. They didn’t really take too kindly to that. Anyone could and would be punished if they thought they could get away with it. What do they do to a ten year old kid that doesn’t understand the hierarchy in their world? Something that no living human should ever have to suffer through. Then again, I probably deserved it. I was the youngest person in there and I’d already killed three of the guards. It would be at least another month before replacements could be obtained. No one liked a killer.
You see there’s a ‘doctor’ here in the Bay. One that specializes in making people have these fancy eyes. He calls it a ‘shine’. As a kid I’d heard of people trying to get one, but no one has ever really been able to survive the pain of a full shine, well no one but one person. Riddick had always been the talk of the Bay; even the convicts knew who he was. We got a little bit of news filtered down through the guards when they were too lazy to keep their shop talk away from us. Of course it wasn’t all that unknown that he’d been here in the Bay either. The only person to escape and the only person to survive a full shine, until me.
At ten, one doesn’t even understand the concept of that much pain. How can we? Our brains aren’t even fully developed into adulthood and we can only comprehend certain things. Yet I knew the moment they strapped me down that pain was going to come. I couldn’t help it; I was terrified. Pope Joe didn’t really seem all too keen on trying it with a child, especially a female but he was left with little choice. It was shine my eyes or die and even now I don’t hate him for his own self-preservation. It’s rule number one in the slam. Always look out for yourself. There is no other way about it.
Truth be told I don’t really remember much about the procedure itself. I just remember pain and wishing for death. It rarely worked that anyone survived even a quarter of the pain. If you did manage that the chances of being permanently blind were astronomical. In the back of my mind I remember chiding myself for being stupid and telling myself that if the legendary Riddick could survive this then I could too. Not that I’d ever met the man or even really knew what he looked like. I was kept away from anyone that might know anything about the dangerous convict. No, I only had stories to occupy my time with.
When the pain ended I wasn’t even sure I was still alive. Pope Joe sounded so very far away and my mind was rebelling at wanting to respond. I was alive, but could I see? Slowly I opened my eyes, the world bathed in a purple hue. I could see shapes and images but nothing solid yet. It was painful but I had managed to make it. The lights of the ‘operating’ room had been dimmed low as to avoid any adverse reactions from me. I still remember the silent tears in the eyes of Pope Joe for what he had done.
After that incident, the guards were afraid. I could see, as long as I had something covering my eyes from the bright lights. I was dangerous. They tried to purposely keep me in areas too bright for my vision to really work but Matlock always found a way to foil their plans. Told you the old man had a soft spot for me. I guess it was because he used to be a teacher, before his imprisonment. He enjoyed the time he got to spend fostering my mind. I was a challenge to him. A child that had grown up in the slam, knew the tricks to survive, could take down grown men without batting an eyelash and still sound like a proper young woman.
It had become clear as the years went on that I was one of those convicts that people thought best to avoid. Matlock died when I was seventeen. Old enough to be my own woman but still trapped inside the damned slam. Escape hadn’t even fostered in my brain, because just like everyone else, I was doomed. That was, until I found the letter. I could read, and I could write, had to if I wanted any chance of making it on the outside. Matlock had drafted it for me right before he died. He saw the end coming and wanted to give me one final bit of advice. I still remember the words as if they were burned into my heart and my head directly.
Autumn, dear child.
It’s not always easy to lose someone we care about and it’s ok to mourn. Don’t do it for too long though. Our world doesn’t show kindness to that kind of emotion. I wish that I could be there for you today, to wish you a happy seventeenth birthday but I’m not. I saw this coming even before you were born, that my time would one day be up. You don’t spend your whole life in a slam and not see things like this coming.
I want you to promise me something child. No matter what you will find a way out. If you are old enough then I want you to try to make a life outside of the Bay. There’s been one person who escaped and you can too. Trust in yourself, in that strength that you had when you were ten years old, strapped down to the Pope’s chair. Trust the animal I’ve fostered inside of you. The animal that won’t let you take shit from anyone, including the guards. Trust in it, and let it tell you when the right time is to make a move.
You are one of the most deadly and beautiful women I have had the pleasure of knowing in all my years. Take heed, dear child, for I fear that your fate will bring you into the grips of someone who will be your next mentor, your lover, your mate. Someone that will help you find the answers that I know burn deep within your heart.
Above all things you must find a way out of the Bay. Do it for an old man who wants nothing more than his daughter to be happy. For you are the daughter I never got to have.
I started my plans then. Escaping wasn’t going to be easy; it never is. The timing had to be absolutely perfect and even then there would always be a hitch in the plan. I’d spent far too much time learning how to solve the various puzzles thrown at me to be kept trapped and caged here like some animal. Regardless of whether I really was that animal or not. Of course, I never expected escape to be that easy.
It took me years to map out the exact plan but on the eve of my twenty fifth birthday the plan came together. Over the last year or so the guards stopped being replaced. Our head jailer was informed that he would just have to learn to use the guards he was given, dead or not. They were tired of him not being able to quell one rebellious woman, especially a woman that by all accounts didn’t exist. The plan had been simple enough. There was a ‘night’ that was adhered too. Everyone was supposed to be in their sleeping quarters by the sixth whistle when the guards came to check. Anyone not following the rules was subject to whatever amusing games the poachers could think of.
I would, of course, be long gone by then. I had found a shaft in one of the old mining routes about six weeks earlier. No one really tried to venture into it because it looked as if it could fall at any moment. If they were going to die, it wasn’t going to be in a tunnel collapse. It gave me free reign to explore. What I discovered was a long abandoned and previously unknown exit. It looked as if the miners had cut the shaft as a backup escape route but never really used it. Using materials that I had scrounged up around the Bay, I made a likeable resemblance to myself that stayed in my little cave. My decoy would keep the guards distracted enough that they wouldn’t figure out what I was up to, I hoped, until it was too late. It wasn’t really like they could sound an alarm. A convict that they failed to report had escaped a triple max slam under their watch? I could see that going over real well.
I had followed the last instructions that Matlock had given me, let my animal out and let her lead me. The escape had actually been a cakewalk. No one expected a convict to escape, twice, so they relaxed any outside patrols. Why should they bother? Most assumed that if someone did manage to escape they wouldn’t make it off-world and they surely wouldn’t find a ship. Not when the slam wasn’t expecting another big payday to come in. No, they didn’t really expect me to have anything worked out. Outside, I breathed my first taste of free air and I almost stopped in my tracks. New sights and smells assaulted me and I couldn’t help it. This was going to be too much. I had managed, at one point, to negotiate some shade-like goggles that I could wear on my face to protect my sensitive eyes, but even then it was still far too bright outside. With my vision impaired since I was a child, I had learned to adjust to smells and sounds.
I couldn’t linger here, not like this. I needed to get moving, and moving I did. What no one really understood was that not every planet that housed a slam was lacking actual civilization. Most had some, even if it was in the remote areas. As long as the prison stayed far enough away that the denizens never saw the convicts then things were fine. I, however, had overheard one too many conversations as a child. I knew this planet had a small city with a space dock.
Running at the highest speed I could muster, given all the new scents assaulting me, I managed to sneak into town and avoid being seen. I looked like a convict: dirty, smelly and dangerous. I had to ditch that look or else this would end far sooner than it should. The buildings around me were ratty but they would hold, and I was looking for one that was unlocked. People, when they didn’t think they would ever be in danger, were stupid. It only took me two tries to find one that was unlocked and I slipped inside. I couldn’t hear anyone moving, nor the sounds of breathing or heartbeats. It was empty. Slowly I moved around, trying to remain as silent as I could. I needed to see what this place offered in the way of exchange.
My silver-shined eyes made things a little more difficult to see. I could see the dark colors: black, brown, and the like. Those were easy enough to detect. I liked those colors. As I looked around the tiny little home, I noticed a few bits of tech that I wasn’t even sure I knew how to use laying around. I’d heard talk of them but that didn’t mean I knew how they worked. Looking around, I found a manual laying around for this ‘washing’ unit. It wasn’t really all that hard to understand and as I noticed that the woman of the house didn’t have anything to my liking, I decided to wash my own clothes. Stripping out of the dirty, smelly garments, I tossed them in and set them to wash.
Back in the slam we had running water but not much of it. You could shower but it was best you did so with your clothes on. You never knew who was going to join you and what might happen if they did. Here, though, while it was empty, I was sure I could bathe alone. Slipping into the shower unit, I blasted the hot water and sighed with relief. Hot water wasn’t that bad; it was something I was used to, but this felt devine. It was like a new me was slowly starting to emerge. Even the animal inside of me purred at the feeling.
Soaping and scrubbing off all the dirt and grime, I washed my hair at least four times and when the water finally ran clear turned off the faucets. Using the oversized towels that were near the shower, I stepped into one and thought. I couldn’t stay here long; I would need clean clothes and a few rations that could tide me over until I could get aboard a ship. Any ship would do, so long as it got me off this planet.
When I was sure that my clothing was as washed and as dried as I was going to get, I prowled around the kitchen and stole as much of the rations and food as I could find. I even managed to snag two water bottles, filling them to the brim and watching as the lid secured them so not even a drop would spill. There wasn’t much else that was laying around except a few UD’s that might buy me passage if I needed it. With the persons appropriated items, I left the house and made a mad dash to the space dock. I wouldn’t doubt that the guards would be figuring out that I was no longer there. I couldn’t afford to waste anymore time.
With my vision being what it was, I managed to sneak into the shadowy area of the dock and wait. There was a ship about to take off; I could tell as I watched them start to pack up the last of the crates. Peering inside of one, I noticed it was nothing but fabric. I could sneak in there and hide until the right time. Not knowing how to fly kept me at a disadvantage, but not having anyone know about my existence was a good thing. With the lid of the crate secured over my head, I felt at home at once. The darkness was familiar, and it was home.
I was shoved on board the ship but I had no idea what the destination was. In all honesty, I shouldn’t have been surprised that we only went two planets over. This particular one was a major spaceport and often saw all kinds of travel. I could sneak out and I did. There were ships everywhere and I let my animal guide me. Something about this one ship seemed to draw me in. It was huge, definitely a civilian transport ship. It wouldn’t be too hard to sneak on board, at least, that was the plan.

Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out.
Slowly I could feel the darkness receding from around me. My head felt like it had been trampled upon but there wasn’t anything I could do about that right now. I needed to take stock of my surroundings and figure out what happened. The last thing I remembered was being in the cryo onboard the Hunter-Gratzner and then thinking that I heard the convict growl. That part very well could have been my imagination.
Reaching up, I slowly felt my face, my goggles still in place as I moved to stand. Groaning out in pain as my muscles ached, I had no idea if I’d draw attention. I was awake, that much I could discern. Smells assaulted my nose: sulfur, gypsum, and other minerals. There was also this faint odor of blood and a smell of something dark. Darker than the convict that they had tried to bar everyone from before.
Voices were starting to make sense as I heard one that sounded definitively female and one male. The accent wasn’t one I was familiar with and because of that I couldn’t decide if they were friend or foe. I was going to have to trust my animal, for now, and my other senses. They sounded close, close enough that I was snapped back into reality as the piece of metal that covered me was moved. I couldn’t see yet, the brightness still making it hard to focus as the two people started asking me questions at random.
One of them – the male – slowly started to come into view, his blonde hair covering his face and his voice carrying a drawl. He was right in my face and I could see a smirk color his features as he spoke.
“You alright there doll? Looks like you took quite a spill.”
I didn’t like the way he was staring at me, as if I was prey. Reacting on instinct, I let my fist connect with his nose. The sickening crunch would have been satisfying, if I wasn’t sure he was going to retaliate. Instead the woman’s voice I heard reached out and grabbed my arm, pulling me from the hole I was in. She didn’t look like a threat but still I didn’t like to be touched all that much, not by strangers.
With my body clear of the debris, I could finally force my gaze to focus, even behind the goggles. I was wishing in a way that they were darker, that they let less light filter through because this was going to only make my headache worse.
“What happened?” I asked gently, letting air fill my lungs even though it wasn’t enough. I needed to try to get some sense of what happened, some sense that things might be ok. I was avoiding hearing the scuffle, the sound of someone being choked, a body falling and chains being re-tied. I knew what happened. That convict had tried to take a shot at the merc and failed. Now he was chained up again, something I’d have to address at a later time. For now, I needed to know where we were and to finally stand up.
The woman, who identified herself as Shazza, helped me into a standing position and walked me out of the wreck. They wanted the light to see my injuries and I could see Johns glare at me as we moved. There was a look in his eye that told me I’d be hounded a whole lot more until this was over. That was something I couldn’t tolerate. With a small limp, I moved out with Shazza towards the others.
Outside, the sky was bright and the sand beneath my feet made me want to growl. I didn’t need to be on a desert planet. I needed someplace dark, at least until the headache went away. This wasn’t something I was used to, the brightness making me want to recoil. Yet out here, I couldn’t escape. I was surrounded by the remaining survivors as they crowded around me. Introductions were made and I learned that the man that I hit was a ‘cop’ and his name was Johns. My merc senses were screaming around him, a skill I’d picked up in the Bay. He wasn’t a cop, and I would be damned if he would lead this group.
I learned the rest of the names. Zeke, the husband of the woman who had helped me out of the crash, was boisterous and seemed like the sort I’d actually like to get to know. Paris was whiney and made me want to punch him in the face. I couldn’t stand people like that. There was Carolyn Fry – the pilot of the crashed ship and the only surviving crew member. An arab man who eyed me with suspicion but didn’t really set my animal off into the protective mode. He was with three kids, on some sort of pilgrimage or something. The one that caught my attention the most was the girl, Jack. I’d seen plenty of kids her age come into the slam, pretending to be boys in hopes that they wouldn’t be hurt. Normally they were dead before the others could learn that they weren’t male. Her I would protect. I could see a kinship with her, and my animal snarled at the thought that something might happen. It was Shazza that spoke again, and I couldn’t hide my answer.
“What’s your name hun?”
“Autumn.”
With the introductions made, we all took a moment to assess the situation around us. I could see the remnants of the wreckage and knew that I was lucky enough to survive. The longer I stood out here the less I could remember. I knew the ship was hit by something; I heard the sounds and then the darkness. There was still the growl I needed to justify in my mind and I couldn’t help it. I wanted to get close enough to figure out what the fuss was about with this convict.
When no one was looking, I moved towards the ship, letting my ears guide me as I overheard Johns and Carolyn talking. What they said made me want to roll my eyes. If they only knew he wasn’t the only one like that on the ship.
“He just escaped a maximum security prison.”
“Should he just stay locked up forever?”
“That would be my choice.”
“Is he really that dangerous?”
“Only around humans.”
I have to admit, I was intrigued. There were rumors of a man that fit the criteria that Johns was spouting. Only one other convict was known for his escape. They must have captured the one and only Richard B. Riddick. Oh, this was going to be so much fucking fun. I couldn’t wait to set my eyes upon the convict. Still, I needed to wait, to make sure that Johns was gone before I made my move.
When he and Fry moved off, I entered the ship. I realized quickly that I wasn’t really going in any particular direction. My animal had long since taken over and she was leading me. I could smell him then, the musk of male, the scent of predator, the smell of an alpha male. Letting my goggled gaze land upon the man I sighed softly. He was everything I’d heard he was and more. His tall muscular frame was forced to sit against one of the ribs of the ship, his hands cuffed and straining behind his back. I could see that his eyes were blindfolded and I wondered if it was more to make the merc think he was safe rather than an actual deterrent. If he couldn’t see, then he wasn’t such a threat right? There was this strange device in his mouth. I had no idea what it was, but it didn’t look comfortable.
I took one step close to him and his head jerked in my direction. Oh that couldn’t be good, could it? I watched as his nostrils flared as if taking in my scent and it made the animal inside of me swoon, ever so slightly. She wanted to know why they had chained this beautiful creature up, why they were treating him that bad. He was only someone out to survive and survive the only way that he knew how. I couldn’t get all that close, too afraid of my new environment and not knowing if the other convict would even be friendly. Instead, I just stood in the doorway and spoke softly to him.
“You are a rather beautiful specimen, Mr. Riddick, but the chains, they don’t do you any justice. Though I would imagine you already know about the little gap just there, above you in the pillar. Shouldn’t be too hard for someone like you to get out of here. Find me when you’ve got the chains off.”
Moving away from the spot, I spun on my heels and headed out to see if Shazza or the others needed my help.

Waitin’ is always the hardest part. Just sittin’ there waitin’ for the damn merc to show up - Johns, the proverbial thorn in my side ever since I could remember. I didn’ have to wait long for the blonde to come strollin’ through this area of the ship. I knew what he was after but it was time for me to have a little bit of fun. The girl, she was sleepin’, would probably wake soon. The hit to the head wasn’t all that strong but it would keep her occupied for a bit.
I could sense her rousin’, wakin’ and it made my animal nervous. I wanted to get Johns out of the picture and away from her before he could figure out that she was there. Didn’ help much that I still had this bit and blindfold on. Didn’ mean I couldn’t hear him though. Usin’ the chains that I had free, I wrapped them around the neck of the merc. I was trying to kill ‘im but it wouldn’t work. He managed to hit me in the groin with his stick, a shot that would take any man out. Goin’ down, I knew I had to let him win this round. It was our game, this cat and mouse, but in the end I’d be the one grinnin’ as he bled out on the sand.
Back in the chains, my arms were painfully behind me, but it wasn’t anythin’ I wasn’t used to. I could deal with this, for now, until a better plan came along. At least that had been what I was thinkin’ till I heard the voices. As if Johns didn’t know that I was listenin’ in. I wanted to laugh as he tried to scare the captain into thinkin’ that I would just kill them all at random. As if, the only person in my way right now was the damned blue-eyed devil.
My thoughts were interrupted by that scent again. The one from the girl, the mystery. She smelled like an animal, like my animal and that wasn’t somethin’ I was used to. She had to be a killer, someone that let their beast out to play but I couldn’t tell yet just how much of it. Oh she had a story I’m sure, one I couldn’t wait to find out. There was another scent mixed in with her regular one - fear. Not of me, but of the situation. Fear of the unknown it seemed, somethin' to ponder at least.
I knew that turnin’ my head towards her would frighten her. Make her all jumpy and give me a chance to catch her unguarded. I wish I could see her again, but the slit in my blindfold prevented that. For now, I’d just have to amuse myself and my beast with tryin’ to figure out her smell. That was, until she spoke.
Bitch has balls, I gotta give her that. The other’s - they’re too afraid to talk to me like that, but she ain’t. Makes me wonder where it comes from. The smell, it screams animal and killer, but the words. The words. They make her sound educated, proper. Not somethin’ convicts are known for. I smell the slam on her, but it was just a faint scent. Oh yes, I have to find out more about this woman.
I heard her words and almost snorted. Been a long time since anyone called me ‘Mr.’ Mostly it was just Riddick or various other pet names the mercs wanted to come up with for their payday. Her clue though, tellin’ me about the gap. That was what drew me. I woulda eventually figured it out on my own, but knowin’ that I have someone lookin’ out for me, that’s the part that’s hard to understand.
All too soon her scent faded away and I knew that I’d follow through on that last part. I’d get out of these damn chains and I’d track her down. What I’d do with her then, well that was just somethin’ for me to figure out later. Right now, I needed to work on my escape. For now, I needed to focus on me.
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Autumn Fires