Faith in the Darkness
folder
M through R › Pitch Black
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
17
Views:
2,864
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
M through R › Pitch Black
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
17
Views:
2,864
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
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.
4
Riddick stared at the screen above the console, but didn't see it. Faith's words rolled through his mind like a recording, bits and pieces of the story. It didn't seem like she'd left much of anything out, except for the fact that everything she said had been in the same level tone, with no emotion of any kind in her voice.
"... Angelus made Drusilla and she made Spike...they massacred thousands...a Gypsy curse... Buffy... Spike... Angel Investigations... vampires with souls... Wolfram and Hart..." It was like whispering in his mind as he studied it, studied her. So much pain, so many deaths... a soul forced upon a vampire, dragging him back to humanity... sounded a little too familiar. He'd been a beast once, a murderer, taking lives without remorse, much like the vampire Angelus. Then he'd gotten stranded on a planet full of monsters with a bunch of civilians, a merc and a little girl.
Jack. She'd worshipped him, following him around, even shaving her head to try and look like him. He'd saved her, taken her off the planet with him. Three weeks on an emergency skiff. Close quarters for a convict, a holy man and a kid.
She cried when he left, screamed and threatened and finally begged. He hadn't looked back, didn't want to see her struggling against the holy man's arms, trying to follow him. Didn't think he could take it. He'd gone through Hell with that girl and come out on the other side a different creature, branded by her, in a way he wanted to regret, but found he couldn't. She'd forced a soul upon him and it was indeed a curse. So he'd left her there, in New Mecca, in the care of the holy man, Imam and walked away. She didn't deserve his way of life, no matter how much he wanted to take her with him.
~*~
Riddick laid perfectly still, listening to the sound of fists on vinyl. His cabin was dark, as usual, and the lights in the rest of the ship were dimmed to a degree that was comfortable to his eyes. Faith was at home in the darkness, almost as much as he was. She never complained about the low light and seemed to function perfectly well in it.
He'd shown her the cargo hold the morning after she'd arrived. When he first claimed the ship from it's previous merc owners, he'd fashioned a small training area in the mostly empty space, with hard mats on the floor and a sand-filled bag that hung from the ceiling and was anchored to the floor. She'd spent a lot of time there since then, working through her issues, he supposed, as he listened to her. He'd never watched her, never gone into the hold when she was there. He had to admit he was curious about her style, about how she would move when she fought.
Riddick sat up and got to his feet, moving silently out of his cabin and toward the cargo hold. She'd left the door open and he slipped through it without a sound. Just inside the doorway, he stopped and went perfectly still.
Graceful, beautiful and dangerous. Training in the dark, she moved with precision and strength, every inch of her body in perfect accord. She gave no indication that she knew he was there, but it didn't surprise him when he stepped toward her and she spun around with a well-aimed kick to his midsection. He caught her ankle in mid-motion, her foot barely an inch from his stomach and she froze, not losing her balance, just holding her fists in a ready position.
"You knew I was here," he said and she nodded. "How?"
"Vampires are sneaky bastards. You learn to... feel the things around you, to practically see in the dark, or you die. Those eyes of yours would've come in pretty damn handy."
He released her foot and she lowered it, taking a step back, her hands never quite relaxing completely.
"They say vampires were tough to kill, that most people didn't survive an attack. Super strength, speed, reflexes. What makes a Slayer any different than the rest?" he asked, taking a step toward her.
"We got our own super powers," Faith said, tensing. Riddick's eyes flashed, silver in the darkness.
"Show me."
~*~
He was fast, almost as fast as a vampire in the darkness and Faith found herself slipping into combat mode, as if this were more than a sparring match, as if she were fighting for her life. Glad that they weren't using weapons, she blocked and spun and pretty much gave blow for blow with Richard B. Riddick, mass murderer. It hurt every time his fist connected and she had a feeling he was holding back, that if he wanted, he could kill her with his bare hands. He moved with liquid grace, like big cat and she found herself breaking a sweat trying to keep up with him.
She didn't know how long they sparred, only that her body was both energized and exhausted when he swept his foot behind her and knocked her flat on her back. A split second later, she felt him kneeling over her, his hands on either side of her head and she knew that if he'd had a blade, it would be at her throat.
"Lights to twenty percent," he growled and suddenly she could see him above her. He was shirtless and barefoot, wearing a loose pair of synthetic cotton pants. The muscles of his arms were bunched from holding himself up and she couldn't quite keep her gaze from flickering over the expanse of his chest before she looked at his face again. He was watching her look at him and the corner of his mouth curved into a smirk.
"You're not bad. For a girl."
Her temper flared, but Faith shoved it back down, knowing he was baiting her.
"And you're not bad for a condescending bastard," she spat back. "Now get the fuck off me so I can go take a shower."
His only response was a soft, rumbling "Mmm," but he moved, rising quickly to his feet and watching as she got up. She felt his eyes on her the whole way to the bathroom.
~*~
"... Angelus made Drusilla and she made Spike...they massacred thousands...a Gypsy curse... Buffy... Spike... Angel Investigations... vampires with souls... Wolfram and Hart..." It was like whispering in his mind as he studied it, studied her. So much pain, so many deaths... a soul forced upon a vampire, dragging him back to humanity... sounded a little too familiar. He'd been a beast once, a murderer, taking lives without remorse, much like the vampire Angelus. Then he'd gotten stranded on a planet full of monsters with a bunch of civilians, a merc and a little girl.
Jack. She'd worshipped him, following him around, even shaving her head to try and look like him. He'd saved her, taken her off the planet with him. Three weeks on an emergency skiff. Close quarters for a convict, a holy man and a kid.
She cried when he left, screamed and threatened and finally begged. He hadn't looked back, didn't want to see her struggling against the holy man's arms, trying to follow him. Didn't think he could take it. He'd gone through Hell with that girl and come out on the other side a different creature, branded by her, in a way he wanted to regret, but found he couldn't. She'd forced a soul upon him and it was indeed a curse. So he'd left her there, in New Mecca, in the care of the holy man, Imam and walked away. She didn't deserve his way of life, no matter how much he wanted to take her with him.
~*~
Riddick laid perfectly still, listening to the sound of fists on vinyl. His cabin was dark, as usual, and the lights in the rest of the ship were dimmed to a degree that was comfortable to his eyes. Faith was at home in the darkness, almost as much as he was. She never complained about the low light and seemed to function perfectly well in it.
He'd shown her the cargo hold the morning after she'd arrived. When he first claimed the ship from it's previous merc owners, he'd fashioned a small training area in the mostly empty space, with hard mats on the floor and a sand-filled bag that hung from the ceiling and was anchored to the floor. She'd spent a lot of time there since then, working through her issues, he supposed, as he listened to her. He'd never watched her, never gone into the hold when she was there. He had to admit he was curious about her style, about how she would move when she fought.
Riddick sat up and got to his feet, moving silently out of his cabin and toward the cargo hold. She'd left the door open and he slipped through it without a sound. Just inside the doorway, he stopped and went perfectly still.
Graceful, beautiful and dangerous. Training in the dark, she moved with precision and strength, every inch of her body in perfect accord. She gave no indication that she knew he was there, but it didn't surprise him when he stepped toward her and she spun around with a well-aimed kick to his midsection. He caught her ankle in mid-motion, her foot barely an inch from his stomach and she froze, not losing her balance, just holding her fists in a ready position.
"You knew I was here," he said and she nodded. "How?"
"Vampires are sneaky bastards. You learn to... feel the things around you, to practically see in the dark, or you die. Those eyes of yours would've come in pretty damn handy."
He released her foot and she lowered it, taking a step back, her hands never quite relaxing completely.
"They say vampires were tough to kill, that most people didn't survive an attack. Super strength, speed, reflexes. What makes a Slayer any different than the rest?" he asked, taking a step toward her.
"We got our own super powers," Faith said, tensing. Riddick's eyes flashed, silver in the darkness.
"Show me."
~*~
He was fast, almost as fast as a vampire in the darkness and Faith found herself slipping into combat mode, as if this were more than a sparring match, as if she were fighting for her life. Glad that they weren't using weapons, she blocked and spun and pretty much gave blow for blow with Richard B. Riddick, mass murderer. It hurt every time his fist connected and she had a feeling he was holding back, that if he wanted, he could kill her with his bare hands. He moved with liquid grace, like big cat and she found herself breaking a sweat trying to keep up with him.
She didn't know how long they sparred, only that her body was both energized and exhausted when he swept his foot behind her and knocked her flat on her back. A split second later, she felt him kneeling over her, his hands on either side of her head and she knew that if he'd had a blade, it would be at her throat.
"Lights to twenty percent," he growled and suddenly she could see him above her. He was shirtless and barefoot, wearing a loose pair of synthetic cotton pants. The muscles of his arms were bunched from holding himself up and she couldn't quite keep her gaze from flickering over the expanse of his chest before she looked at his face again. He was watching her look at him and the corner of his mouth curved into a smirk.
"You're not bad. For a girl."
Her temper flared, but Faith shoved it back down, knowing he was baiting her.
"And you're not bad for a condescending bastard," she spat back. "Now get the fuck off me so I can go take a shower."
His only response was a soft, rumbling "Mmm," but he moved, rising quickly to his feet and watching as she got up. She felt his eyes on her the whole way to the bathroom.
~*~