Darkness Leads the Way

Chapter 4


Leave Me

By Chaosdreamer

A Chronicles of Riddick fanfic
Pairing: Slash Riddick/Vaako
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the rights to Pitch Black or Chronicles of Riddick. They belong to David Twohy and Universal Studios. *Pity*
Summary: Next chapter that I had sudden inspiration to do.
I'm sorry when I said this would be the epilogue. I had sudden inspiration and
am deciding to make this fic even longer, as well as tying in the first Riddick
movie with I hope, major success.
Warning: Language, harshness. There will be violence and gore, so be warned.

Author's note: I honestly don't know how long the harness's lights would last, but I'll assume for this fic that they go for quite some time, and that Vaako would shut it off and use the other lights as well.

*….* : Sound effects


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…Two days later…

"The ship will break through the planet's atmosphere in approximately 10 minutes." A filtered voice announced through the intercom system. The soldiers were already slapping on their armor, preparing themselves for the drop, taking only their weapons, certain that the ship's immense and powerful lights would be enough to keep the filthy beasts at bay.

"'Bout fucking time." Riddick grunted.

"How many men shall be accompanying you, Lord Marshall?" Toal asked, standing at attention several feet behind the Lord Marshall, Scale beside him reading a datapad describing the terrain of the area where Dame Vaako and Lord Vaako had been dropped.

"No less than ten and no more than twenty." Riddick said.

"So few?" Scale asked, looking up from the data, puzzled.

"I only need enough men to form a solid wall of fire." Riddick turned to a tech at his side, "How low can the ship hover above us without the wind blowing sand in our face?"

"The ship will hover at least seventy feet above you and the soldiers, with exterior lights covering the entire ship turned on to full power, allowing you a great amount of light without allowing the creatures to drift close."

"How close can they get?"

"About three hundred feet away, give or take."

"I want it to be less than that."

"-L-Less than that? But Lord Marshall-" The tech sputtered.

"I want them close enough so that I can look them in the eye as I blow them away." Riddick ordered.

The tech frowned, not understanding the Lord Marshall's logic, but he complied with a soft, "Yes, my Lord."

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The creature stalked away, belly pressed to the ground, hissing at its larger comrades as it scuttled away to nurse its fresh wounds.

Hungry and defeated it moved to a safe distance far enough away from the more dangerous and vicious predators, one hand lifting to scratch at the long thin wound on its face, a sense of frustration sinking into its brain, irritated with the itching sensation of mending flesh. The wound was testament to its survival at the hands of one of its comrades but also a mark that proved the stupidity of trying to steal a meal from a more ferocious opponent.

It shook its shoulders, a feeling of rage creeping inside, the beast complex brain recalling how it had sunk its teeth into the appendage of the prey that had attempted to allude it and its comrades. The prey had even managed to fight back and kill a few of them, even one of the infants with its bare hands. The many staffs in its hands and on its body that burned like fire and the apparatus that spat thunder and pain managed to drive them back several times, but hunger had won over caution.

The more stealthier and quicker brethren had brought down the prey, managing to sink its blade into the prey's body, pinning it to the ground. Its victory had been short-lived, interrupted as the smaller predator had darted forward in an effort to gain a chunk of meat, only to be rebuked and rewarded with a mark across the face that would most likely scar.

In the end both had fought and grappled, while other predators had snapped and hissed at them from all around, as if chastising them both for losing their prey. The prey was smart, having run while it could, leaving patches of blood for them to follow, leading them to the strange glistening structures clustered within the large valley.

The scent and blood of the prey had been isolated within one of the strange structures, the predators pounding and beating upon the structure until they had managed to tear their way through.

Only to be left milling around and calling out in confusion, their prey gone, the scent and blood ending within the structure.

As if the prey had simply vanished.

So now it was retracing the smell of the prey back to its origin, the beast able to sense that much time had passed since the last chase. A long period of time since it had last eaten, its last meal having come from the scraps left over from the prey's smaller companion that had been brought down.

But it had gone much longer periods of time between meals, and it would continue to do so until it too became a meal.

Haunting cries broke all around the beast, causing it to lift its head in confusion and curiosity, making out the retreating bodies of the other predators, several taking to the sky as a large ball of burning fire began to slowly draw closer to the desert floor.

Interest piqued the beast began to scurry closer, hissing at the unfamiliar brightness, knowing that the fire could burn and kill.

And yet the same fire had left behind the prey they had been chasing several days earlier.

Perhaps there would be more.

The beast pushed forward, scuttling up a rough rock to crouch like a gargoyle, tilting its head at the large beast that hovered in the air, thrumming loudly and kicking up sand, causing the predator to raise its hands to prevent the stinging sand to enter its unhealed wound. The burning fire hovered several feet from where it crouched, the golden intensity lighting up the desert floor very similar to how the three balls of fire had lit up the sky, causing all of the predators to retreat underground so long ago.

The very ground seemed to be on fire, colors burning its eyes, making the sand seem to burn, strange colors shining and flaring once touched by the spreading fire. The beast barely managed to keep from snarling loudly in aggression.

Yet this fire was different, actually staying just out of its reach, hovering in front of it, the huge beast suspended in the air, yet having no wings to keep it up. Several loud shrieks echoed through the sky and the beast looked up, watching dispassionately as two of the slower flying predators had come too close to the fire that surrounded the beast. Their bodies ignited into flames, spinning wildly and soon smashing into the desert floor, limbs twitching and twisting as the predators shrieked from the fire consuming them.

The large flying beast in the air drew even closer to the ground, and the much smaller beast watched as many small forms fell from the underbelly of the beast. It chattered in excitement, recognizing the familiar size, eager at the smell and presence of some many prey.

It could almost anticipate the rich taste of blood, of the softness of meat as its hands dug deep, digging and twisting to find the most tender and juiciest pieces.

The prey formed into a rough circle, many covered in thick protective plating that covered every portion of their bodies, very similar to the plating that the prey that had escaped had worn. In their hands were the same apparatuses that spat thunder and pain, and the beast snarled lowly, recognizing the instruments, remembering the searing pain of the thunder barely passing it only to tear apart another predator too slow to move out of the way.

There were several of the prey standing not as tall or as erect as the rest, their spines hunched and limbs splayed wide, strange plating covering most of their face, mouths open widen and breathing loudly, heads turning left and right as if scanning the air in front of them. Several of the taller, erect, and armor-plated prey held in their hands a thick cord that stretched out from the back of the stunted and shorter prey, hands gripping some sort of handle, shorter and clawless fingers moving across the handle to press upon several of the brightly colored depressions.

One of the prey, standing tall and erect, wore far less protective plating than the rest, standing at the head of the clustered ground. Its stance was confident and it peered into the dark, eyes flashing and somehow glowing, muted fire within the creature's eyes. Perhaps it was an alpha, a more cunning and possibly more aggressive beast.

It may have been an alpha, but it was either foolhardy or stupid, daring to step outside of the reach of the burning fire, away from the protection of the group, and closer to the predators that circled them as close as they could safely manage.

Eager at the opportunity to strike swiftly and claim a large piece of meat for itself the beast stalked closer, closing the distance between it and the prey that continued to move in its direction, as if not seeing the predator slowly closing in on it.

So close, in seven more strides it would be close enough to reach out and-

A low rumbling snarl that the beast had never heard before caused it to stop suddenly and lift its head, searching for the intruding sound, hackles rising as it hissed in answer to the sound of a foreign predator.

A large mass, made up of a thick hide of thick rattling scales, large teeth and claws, leapt with ease over the still-moving prey, moving too quickly to follow, plowing into the beast with the mark on its face.

One large paw slapped forward, smashing into the beast's face, breaking its jaw and neck with one blow.

Its jaws clamped closed over the shrieking beast's throat, cutting off its air as its claws dug deep, tearing gouges into its torso, intestines spilling out across the desert floor.

For the first time in its short life, the beast felt fear, just before it felt the nothingness of death.

The planet's predators had met another predator equally, perhaps more vicious, than it could have ever conceived.


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One of the Necromonger soldiers watched dispassionately through the lensor's scanners as the beast was brought down by one of the three Hellhounds that Riddick had allowed to follow him onto the planet. The other two whined and milled around restlessly behind the Lord Marshall, watching enviously as their comrade tore into the carcass, seeking out the most tender meat, throwing its head back to gulp down the fresh meat, blue and gray fluids painting its mouth and scales.

The lensor cocked its head left and right, looking past the Hellhounds and the Lord Marshall, the large single gaze cataloguing and scanning the many beasts that hovered along the edge of the light. Large beasts and small swooping and hooting, opening their jaws to snap them loudly in the direction of the Necromongers that stood within the safety of the large spotlights provided by the ship.

"What do you wish for us to do, Lord Marshall?" His fellow Necromonger soldier asked, the only other soldier equipped to control and operate the controls of the lensor, the soldier using the lensor's sight to scan for any possible heat signatures as well as creating a large 3-D map of the surrounding area.

Riddick didn't answer for a long time, staring silently at the beasts that circled them, remembering the last time he had been on the planet, running for his life just like the rest of the survivors.

The beasts seemed to have fucking multiplied since the last time he had been here. He was disappointed, hoping that they had gone as far as to begin eating one another to extinction.

Well then, he'd just have to nudge the process along.

"My Lord?" The same soldier asked once again.

"…Kill them all. Leave none alive." Riddick answered coldly.

As one, like a single body, all of the Necromonger soldiers lifted their guns, aiming in various directions.

They fired in unison.

The roar and thunder of the guns almost deafened the soldiers for a brief moment.

The screams and shrieks of the beasts were just as equally unbearably loud.

The beasts were too slow to escape, many falling under the first round of the guns, heads blown apart by the power of the guns or their limbs separated from their bodies, leaving them to twitch and bleed across the desert floor.

The few that somehow survived the first rounds shrieked with sounds akin to panic as the Hellhounds fell upon them, finishing off the Necromongers' work, feeding their stomachs of the fallen predators, howling and roaring as they slaughtered the many broken and moving bodies.

To their credit the Necromonger soldiers did not hit a single Hellhound, no matter how many times the beasts suddenly appeared in their sights before disappearing once again.

The Lord Marshall seemed to not hear or see the carnage taking place around him, instead indicating for the two Necromonger soldiers and their lensors to approach, one coming to stand on each side.

"Anything?" He demanded.

The Necromonger soldier on his left pressed several of the keys, switching to and from the various visions and sensors of the lensor. "The physical tracks are too old for us to follow."

"The only way we could possibly track them is if we come in range for the sensors to sense their body heat or for trails of blood." The other soldier continued.

The first soldier added as the Lord Marshall remained silent, "The sensors can pick up the tiniest trace of blood no matter how old it is, blood made of a completely different composition from that of physical tracks."

"Interesting." Riddick grunted, sounding anything but that.

"What do you wish for us to do, then?" The second soldier asked.

"One of you scan for heat signatures as well as map out the terrain. The other scans for blood and keep an eye out for any of the beasts. If you see any of the bastards, inform the soldiers to wipe them out immediately."

"Understood." The two soldiers said in unison.

"Let's move!" Riddick bellowed, voice echoing in the silence, ignoring the lack of noise from the carcasses laid out all around them as far as the eye could see. The ship above them hummed and groaned as it moved slowly and steadily forward, following the Lord Marshall as he began to stalk across the desert, the soldiers following as well, Hellhounds trailing at the back, bellies full and distended.

A gathering of killers on the hunt.


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'It's so cold…' Vaako shivered, limbs shivering and twitching uncontrollably, his internal voice startling him within the pitch black silence that surrounded him.

He wrapped his arms tighter around himself, trying to keep his body warm, leaning sideways against the wall farthest from the entrance above, temple pressed to the cold and unforgiving metal.

Some indeterminable hours ago the sounds of the beasts rustling and sliding their claws along the ceiling had vanished. Vaako was pretty certain that the heavy silence was just as terrible.

The silence gave him too much time to think, too much time for his mind to run wild and come up with horrible scenarios of how and when the beasts would finally discover him and break through.

Every breath he released, every shift in the room, the rustle of a solitary shadow, caused him to twitch and barely contain a sound of dismay and fear, his mind automatically portraying it as the beasts having finally broken inside.

He had no weapons and no more light.

Completely and utterly defenseless.

'Just like back home.' He thought bitterly, memories returning to haunt him of his time on the streets as a small and dirty orphan, having to fight for his life and scurry around like some sort of rat. Having to live like an animal, avoiding the older and larger men and women that wandered the streets, especially those looking for sweet young children to take home, children who would never return or if they did, their bodies would be found in a small alleyway or dumpster.

The Necromonger fleet dropping down on his planet had almost been a blessing, a chance for him to escape that refuge pit of a planet that he had so humorlessly called home.

He had become strong and proud, never having to go days without eating or bathing, never having to drag cardboard and newspapers to build a nest in an abandoned house or alleyway in order to keep warm.

'And look how far you've come. Right back in the dark, right back to when the predators were just a room away from finding you.' A voice sneered inside his head, vaguely sounding like the late Lord Marshall.

'You had everything: power, a beautiful woman, soldiers who would die for you. And you gave it all up for a chance to spread your legs for that male breeder.' His wife's voice hissed sardonically inside his head.

"Shut up." He ordered softly, voice cracking from having not been used in so long, coughing lightly, the heaviness inside his chest causing a dull ache to rise from every cough.

'But do you know what the worse part of it all was?' This time it was Riddick's voice, cold and unimpressed, 'that at the last moment before you were banished to this planet, you lost your spine and went as far as to try to beg for mercy, to plead your innocence.'

'Look at the strong, powerful Necromonger. The First Among Commanders.'

'Soon to be the late one.' Vaako finished silently, finally allowing his eyes to fall shut, an uncomfortable blanket of unconsciousness surrounding him, body not stilling its spasmadic twitches. He curled up into a tight ball in order to maintain some body warmth, his thinning arms and death-white skin so fragile in appearance, muscles deteriorating from lack of food and water.

It wouldn't be too long before his organs began to follow in fashion.


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"My Lord. The lensor is showing a large amount of blood has been spilt within the immediate area."

Said lensor was tilting its head towards the left, hands flexing and jaw working, single lens tracing the large pools of old dried blood.

"Where?" Riddick commanded.

"Twenty feet to the left."

Once the ship's light flashed over the area mentioned Riddick could see the rust splashed patterns across the desert sand. He frowned, cataloguing that for a body to lose that much blood, the individual would obviously have bled to death some time ago.

"There are some scraps of clothing." A Necromonger soldier at the far edge of the group bent down, remaining safely within the light, gun held ready as he picked up a handful of the stained and torn fabric. He held the patchy bloodstained fabric for the rest to see, allowing the light to shine across the gold and green scaled skin of the cloth.

"Dame Vaako's clothes." Another soldier grunted.

"It would be safe to assume that there will be no body to find." Riddick commented coolly, a tendril of relief settling inside of him, surprised at how grateful he was to find that there was a chance that Vaako himself had survived the onslaught that had claimed his wife.

"The blood trail is moving." The same Necromonger whose lensor had discovered the blood called out, lensor turned away from the thick patches of blood, looking far ahead.

"Where is it heading?" Riddick called, unable to see far enough as to how far the blood trail was traveling.

The other Necromonger and lensor used the scanners to map out the terrain, the scanners barely able to make out the canyon ahead almost several miles away. "It looks as if the Commander was heading towards the canyon up ahead."

"A lot of terrain to cover and get lost in." The soldier mapping the blood trail frowned.

One of the larger Necromonger soldiers hoisted up and settled onto his shoulder a large and long gun, similar to the old style known as 'bazooka'. Aiming it at a high angle away from them and ship, the soldier took careful aim and fired three consecutive shots, each varying by how much distance it would travel.

Immediately the rounds exploding, large flares igniting the sky, the farthest one hovering and falling over the canyon. Long moaning shrieks echoed throughout the desert and canyon as the beasts scattered, trying to hide from the burning light that had suddenly appeared above them.

The soldiers took out the beasts closest to the ship, guns ripping the creatures to pieces.

As they continued on, one of the more experienced soldiers, Char, bent down over one of the carcasses, ignoring how it sizzled and burned underneath the lights of the ship. He lifted the arm with distant curiosity, twisting and pulling until he figured out how to cause the blade to slide out of the sheath in the creature's wrist. He examined the blade with intense critique, studying the length and sharpness, "Very impressive. Crude and simple, but extremely effective. It would be interesting to see if we could fashion our own weapons in a similar manner."

Nicol, another soldier, but much smaller and thinner than the scarred and muscled Char, moved to peer at the blade as well, "You and your fascination with beasts." He grunted, gray eyes not impressed by the carcass.

Char grinned down at the smaller man, the white scar running down perfectly vertical from his eyebrow next to his mouth highlighting the glowing intensity of his green eyes, "Knowing how to fire a gun means nothing if you don't know how to kill with a blade or your bare hands."

"Yeah, yeah." Nicol said dismissively, waving a hand in ill-interest.

Char smacked his hand across the back of Nicol's head lightly, "Youth does not excuse your short attention span. Eyes and mind alert, boy."

"Old man." Nicol retorted.

Another soldier, with extremely ornate carvings cut into the shoulders of his armor, clapped a hand on both of the men's soldiers, "If you're both so restless and eager to squabble, then hurry up. The faster we find the Commander, the more beasts we can kill."

Char grinned at the other man, recognizing him by the carvings on the soldier that the man had done personally with his own hand, "Some people would look at bloodlust as unbecoming, Val."

"Most of those people are probably too dead to complain." Val replied, eyeing Char humorously.

Nicol looked to the front of the group, listening to the Lord Marshall's orders, "Looks like we will be exploring the canyon."

"Hopefully the Commander made it through." Char said.

"You have so little faith in Lord Vaako?" Val asked, jogging alongside the two near the rear of the group.

"I have faith in Lord Vaako, but not in his body. Every body tires eventually, whether human or Necromonger." Char answered.

Val snorted, "Good thing you never mentioned that in front of the late Lord Marshall. He would have had your head."

Char grunted, "I find that I care little. It is…strange. After Lord Riddick pronounced that we did not have to endure the ritualistic Purification ceremonies again and again, I find myself feeling more…satisfied. Less numb; the world around me seems so much more interesting."

Val nodded, silently agreeing.

"Perhaps there were things that needed to change. Perhaps the Necromongers were in need of change." Nicol added softly.

Char laughed darkly, "What doesn't kill us makes us stronger."


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The group has over halfway through the canyon when the lensors picked up more blood.

This time in far more quantities than Riddick would have liked to have discovered.

The Necromonger frowned, reading the information provided by the lensor, following the various trails of blood all around the area, "It's looks like he made it partway up," He indicated the steep rise ahead of them, "Something caused him to fall back literally. And then…" He frowned, looked at the long spattering of blood through the readout and the pool of dried blood, "it appears he was struck by something. Possibly more than one, judging by the outlining of the blood."

"They worked in a pack?" One soldier asked in disbelief, surprised that the beasts had that much intelligence.

Riddick crouched down onto one knee, pressing a hand in the center of the largest dried bloodstain.

'Was this it, Vaako? Were you brought down here, unable to rise? If that's the case, did you fight to the bitter end, or were you too tired to move by then?'

The only thing that answered his silent questions was the warning hiss of one of the lensors and the furious shrieks above and around them.

One of the soldiers cried out in surprise as a tail shot down from above, wrapping around his throat, lifting him bodily up off the ground, the beast crawling back up the side of the canyon wall, dragging the soldier up with it even as it began to blister and burn.

Nicol gasped in surprise as a tail slapped around his upper waist, trapping his arms, jerking him off of his feet, the scorched creature scrabbling on all fours as it ran, dragging him behind it.

Two of the Hellhounds roared, their cries echoed by the soldiers, Val and Char screaming their fury as they chased after Nicol.

The two Hellhounds leaped onto the wall of the canyon, digging their claws into the stone, running up the side of the canyon after the beast and the struggling soldier still in its grasp.

The beast grunted and howled as the faster of the two Hellhounds pounced, digging its teeth into the back of its neck, claws still lodged into the stone, keeping it from falling the thirty feet to the ground.

Riddick growled, the soldier's face flashing into the wet and terrified face of the young Muslim boy that had been dragged up in similar fashion, the boy's soft cries choked off by the tail, Imam's anguished cries echoing through the night as his last ward was carried off.

Wordlessly one of the soldiers threw him a blade, and Riddick threw it, aim straight and true, the blade sliding deep, right through the creature's spine.

The beast gurgled in alarm, impaled to the wall, severed spine causing its grip on the soldier to loosen. The soldier's eyes widened in surprise as the grip loosened and he tumbled free, falling to the ground, his descent buffered by three soldiers that caught his fall, grunting at the shock of weight hitting them, but none falling to their knees or collapsing at all.

Nicol kicked furiously as he was dragged roughly behind the beast, hands fisted at his side, desperately trying to squeeze himself free. "Char!! Val!!" He shouted, shouting in alarm as he began to get close to the edge of the light provided by the ship-

-Closing in the edge where the beasts hovered in the darkness.

Val saw the beasts along the edge, jerking up his gun, not daring to fire at the moving target, instead firing as he ran towards the mass of beasts just outside the halo of light, attaining no satisfaction as they were blown away, watching dispassionately as blood sprayed and flesh was rendered.

Char disregarded his own gun, instead taking an awesome leap forward, covering the distance between him and the still running beast, landing on the creature's back, his weight forcing it to stumble and slam into the ground.

Avoiding the snapping jaws and scrabbling claws Char grabbed both sides of the creature's head, grunting as he began to use his strength, twisting the creature's head in a complete one hundred and eighty degrees.

*Crack*

Its neck broken the creature dropped to the ground like a rag doll, jaw still open, saliva and blood pooling underneath its massive head.

Nicol squirmed free of the now slack tail, not having the strength the slap away the hands that checked him over, running over the back of his armor to see if there was any damage. He coughed loudly, hacking up the dirt and sand that had gotten into his throat.

"Didn't know my job was to have to chase after you, Nicol." Char teased, removing his hands once satisfied that the man wasn't injured.

"S-Shut up." Nicol coughed.

Val returned to their side, delivering a swift kick to the sizzling carcass at his feet, "Damn beasts are either stupid or brave to attempt coming after us like that."

Char nodded his head in the direction of the rest of the group, pulling Nicol to his feet, using one hand to pat the dirt off of Nicol's rear and the back of his legs, grinning as Nicol swiped furiously at his hand. "They're probably starving for fresh meat."

"I think I gave them plenty." Val said, not having to indicate towards the darkness where the sounds of rending and tearing flesh could be heard, the surviving beasts tearing into their brethren, eager to devour whatever meat they could. Without looking behind him Val aimed the gun over his shoulder, firing five rounds, each meeting their mark, dull sounds of bodies meeting the ground meeting each round. The three soldiers returned to the group, avoiding the steady drip of gore and fluid from the canyon wall as the Hellhounds continued to gorge themselves on the still impaled carcass.


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