Bringing it down
folder
M through R › Pitch Black
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
20
Views:
6,177
Reviews:
63
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
M through R › Pitch Black
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
20
Views:
6,177
Reviews:
63
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
I do not own Pitch Black, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
A new beginning
Chapter 14 A new beginning
“Apples!” she shouted, delighted.
Karyn grabbed for her purse and began counting the creds. This market was fantastic; they managed to get a wide variety of fresh foods from all over the galaxy.
She hadn't eaten apples since she was a child in her old colony of Baracas. In her state it was not so strange that she craved more nutritious foods.
The market was a noisy and busy place. People from all over the country gathered here on Saturdays displaying their merchandises. Many different languages were spoken and the air was filled with the thick aroma of curry and thyme, sweat and perfume. They all mingled here.
As she slowly advanced through the crowd, dressed in a long white tunic and with her hair tied up in a knot high up on her head and a colorful scarf wrapped around it, she occasionally got appreciative glances. She knew she looked good, and she radiated happiness. Carrying this baby erased all the bad things that had happened to her previously.
Karyn was doing well. She'd managed to get a job as an accountant at a center for Islamic research and development. She had been somewhat surprised though to be offered the job, being honest and all about not sharing their religious beliefs. The very nice, and mild mannered, middle aged man stated only that she had the right qualifications and that he could see that she was a spiritual woman.
“Allah does not show us all on the right path from the start” was all he had to say about it and who was she to turn down a rather well paying job anyway?
After landing with the mercenaries’ ship in New Mecca, the media had been all over her, being the sole survivor of the “Sempai 9” as she was. They all wanted her to tell the story of how she survived so many days with the infamous mass murderer Richard B Riddick. One paid better than the others and, as everybody needs to eat, she finally accepted New Mecca Evening Post’s offer.
The reporter had been so understanding and friendly, while Karyn was so lost and lonely. She almost, almost gave it all away, but something stopped her and the story she told was a rather exciting story of multiple murders, kidnapping and her fear and suffering during her days with Riddick. She said he'd been about to violate her, but that he'd stopped himself when he learned she was pregnant… well it was almost true, wasn't it?
No, she didn't know why he hadn't killed her.
Yes, she'd been very shocked to learn that no one ever heard from the survival capsule with all the remaining passengers again.
They said there were no emergency beacons signaling and that if there had been one, it was silent now. Anything could have happened out there, but the most likely scenario, they claimed, was that Riddick never bothered to set it off.
She couldn't believe it.
The press photographers had caught her tears and everybody interpreted it as if she was mourning the people that most likely were dead. It was not untrue, but she'd never really known them.
She found no reason to correct their mistake though. How could she explain that she actually mourned her loss of faith…
She had actually believed in Riddick.
Karyn didn't even blame him for trying to kill her, at least not after getting over her initial shock and having her wounds healed. She'd had a moderate concussion, a split upper lip, and a rather nasty cut along her jaw line. The only conclusion she could make was that he really thought she'd managed to contact those mercenaries. Who could blame him for being angry about her assumed betrayal…
Well, a small voice in the back of her head tried to claim, not everybody would kill you for that… Shut up! she said to herself, I never thought he was a saint… I'm happy to be alive. And Riddick is locked away on some planet very far away from here. He can't hurt me anymore.
Then why did she sometimes linger at the memory of him making love to her? Because that was what they had been doing, she could tell the difference. At those memories she could feel a knot tighten in her stomach, something akin to sorrow.
Why did it hurt?
The media company had offered to pay for therapy sessions but she had turned down their kind offer. She didn't really trust them. Or anyone for that matter,
For the money they paid her she could afford to rent a small house in the outer parts of Dalaga, the small, peaceful community outside the capital of New Mecca. It would be a good place to bring up a child.
Five months had passed since those intense days. Karyn affectionately stroke her rather big belly. Seven months pregnant, two more to go.
She smiled as she bit down on the apple and felt the fresh and slightly sour juices fill her mouth.
This was her life now, this was her place, and she liked her work and her house. She didn't really have any friends yet though. Trust issues…. She was content with reading books in her spare time and also nurturing her garden; the climate was perfect for that.
The friendly man that had hired her checked in on her once in a while and a couple of times he even had proposed her to come and have dinner with his family, wife and three daughters. Karyn had politely turned his offer down though. She didn't want to be a burden, or even worse, she didn't want to find out that they were really only curious about her past.
The media storm passed after a few days, or maybe a week. Then they found other news to fill their tabloids with. Karyn was relieved; after all she'd always been a very private person
With her hands full of bags she wiggled through the crowd, aiming for the commuter shuttle that would take her back to the outer edge of Dalaga and back home.
Maybe it was because of all the people surrounding her, or maybe she just didn't feel like she had a reason to. Karyn however, did not notice the pair of eyes that were cautiously following her movements in the masses.
When she got on the shuttle, so did the owner of the “eyes”.
“Apples!” she shouted, delighted.
Karyn grabbed for her purse and began counting the creds. This market was fantastic; they managed to get a wide variety of fresh foods from all over the galaxy.
She hadn't eaten apples since she was a child in her old colony of Baracas. In her state it was not so strange that she craved more nutritious foods.
The market was a noisy and busy place. People from all over the country gathered here on Saturdays displaying their merchandises. Many different languages were spoken and the air was filled with the thick aroma of curry and thyme, sweat and perfume. They all mingled here.
As she slowly advanced through the crowd, dressed in a long white tunic and with her hair tied up in a knot high up on her head and a colorful scarf wrapped around it, she occasionally got appreciative glances. She knew she looked good, and she radiated happiness. Carrying this baby erased all the bad things that had happened to her previously.
Karyn was doing well. She'd managed to get a job as an accountant at a center for Islamic research and development. She had been somewhat surprised though to be offered the job, being honest and all about not sharing their religious beliefs. The very nice, and mild mannered, middle aged man stated only that she had the right qualifications and that he could see that she was a spiritual woman.
“Allah does not show us all on the right path from the start” was all he had to say about it and who was she to turn down a rather well paying job anyway?
After landing with the mercenaries’ ship in New Mecca, the media had been all over her, being the sole survivor of the “Sempai 9” as she was. They all wanted her to tell the story of how she survived so many days with the infamous mass murderer Richard B Riddick. One paid better than the others and, as everybody needs to eat, she finally accepted New Mecca Evening Post’s offer.
The reporter had been so understanding and friendly, while Karyn was so lost and lonely. She almost, almost gave it all away, but something stopped her and the story she told was a rather exciting story of multiple murders, kidnapping and her fear and suffering during her days with Riddick. She said he'd been about to violate her, but that he'd stopped himself when he learned she was pregnant… well it was almost true, wasn't it?
No, she didn't know why he hadn't killed her.
Yes, she'd been very shocked to learn that no one ever heard from the survival capsule with all the remaining passengers again.
They said there were no emergency beacons signaling and that if there had been one, it was silent now. Anything could have happened out there, but the most likely scenario, they claimed, was that Riddick never bothered to set it off.
She couldn't believe it.
The press photographers had caught her tears and everybody interpreted it as if she was mourning the people that most likely were dead. It was not untrue, but she'd never really known them.
She found no reason to correct their mistake though. How could she explain that she actually mourned her loss of faith…
She had actually believed in Riddick.
Karyn didn't even blame him for trying to kill her, at least not after getting over her initial shock and having her wounds healed. She'd had a moderate concussion, a split upper lip, and a rather nasty cut along her jaw line. The only conclusion she could make was that he really thought she'd managed to contact those mercenaries. Who could blame him for being angry about her assumed betrayal…
Well, a small voice in the back of her head tried to claim, not everybody would kill you for that… Shut up! she said to herself, I never thought he was a saint… I'm happy to be alive. And Riddick is locked away on some planet very far away from here. He can't hurt me anymore.
Then why did she sometimes linger at the memory of him making love to her? Because that was what they had been doing, she could tell the difference. At those memories she could feel a knot tighten in her stomach, something akin to sorrow.
Why did it hurt?
The media company had offered to pay for therapy sessions but she had turned down their kind offer. She didn't really trust them. Or anyone for that matter,
For the money they paid her she could afford to rent a small house in the outer parts of Dalaga, the small, peaceful community outside the capital of New Mecca. It would be a good place to bring up a child.
Five months had passed since those intense days. Karyn affectionately stroke her rather big belly. Seven months pregnant, two more to go.
She smiled as she bit down on the apple and felt the fresh and slightly sour juices fill her mouth.
This was her life now, this was her place, and she liked her work and her house. She didn't really have any friends yet though. Trust issues…. She was content with reading books in her spare time and also nurturing her garden; the climate was perfect for that.
The friendly man that had hired her checked in on her once in a while and a couple of times he even had proposed her to come and have dinner with his family, wife and three daughters. Karyn had politely turned his offer down though. She didn't want to be a burden, or even worse, she didn't want to find out that they were really only curious about her past.
The media storm passed after a few days, or maybe a week. Then they found other news to fill their tabloids with. Karyn was relieved; after all she'd always been a very private person
With her hands full of bags she wiggled through the crowd, aiming for the commuter shuttle that would take her back to the outer edge of Dalaga and back home.
Maybe it was because of all the people surrounding her, or maybe she just didn't feel like she had a reason to. Karyn however, did not notice the pair of eyes that were cautiously following her movements in the masses.
When she got on the shuttle, so did the owner of the “eyes”.