Prophecy

The pain in her head threatened to overwhelm her. The constant throbbing, pounding at the edges of her mind, pulled her out of her unconscious state and back to reality. As she slowly regained her senses, she could feel the cold hard surface pressed up against her. The droning of machinery and the hushed sounds of speech slowly came into focus. She lay perfectly still feeling the reverberations of the floor beneath her. The pounding in her head slowly began to diminish.



“Where am I?” she thought as soon as her mind had cleared enough to allow for such things. Her last memory was of a dark alley and Riddick’s warm powerful body pressed up against her. She smiled until another thought pushed through the cottonwool that encircled her brain. The blue flash… “Mercs!” The word screamed in her mind. That revelation brought forward other memories; the dingy cell, crappy food, the long endless hours of space travel that left her nothing but time to think about her life, about her girls. She knew they would be worried, she never left them without saying goodbye, telling them when she would be back but she also knew that they would be safe, well taken care of. She trusted the people she surrounded herself with and besides, the girls where strong. Even at such an early age they exhibited the characteristics that defined their parents.



Once the pounding in her head had eased to a throb, she made a conscious effort to pry her eyes open and see where they had dumped her. It took her several attempts before her eyelids finally fluttered open and stayed that way for more than a second. Blinking furiously, she tried to get her eyes to focus. It was a good minute before she realised that the darkness that surrounded her wasn’t her eyes disobeying her commands. She blinked again and slowly tried to lift her head off the ground only to be overcome with an overwhelming sense of nausea. The throbbing momentarily escalated back to a pounding. “Oohhww” she moaned and pressed her cheek back down against the cold floor. Gradually the nausea receded enough for her to try again. Instead of lifting her head this time, she tried to turn it so she could see what was behind her. The effort almost bought tears to her eyes, yet she managed to turn without her head exploding.



Blinking again she found herself peering into a dim light. As the seconds ticked by, her fuzzy brain began to process the information her eyes where gathering. She was in a cell, again but this one was much larger. The dim light came from beyond the bars. She could hear hushed voices but they were too low to make out. The floor shuddered beneath her sending her head spinning. She was on a ship, not the small merc ship, something larger judging by the drone of the engines.



A low growl broke through her thoughts and made her freeze. That sound was much closer than the hushed voices or the rumble of the engines. She strained her ears and caught the soft rattle of chains. Her heart began to pound as she realised the sound was coming from behind her, in the same cell. Holding her breath she fought off the nausea and slowly turned her head again. Trying to stay as still as possible, her eyes darted around the darkened recesses of the cell trying desperately to make out any forms or movements. Suddenly she caught a glimpse of light being reflected back towards her. She inhaled sharply then froze peering into the darkness. As her eyes adjusted she began to make out a large form slowly writhing low to the ground. Her pounding heart tried to break through her chest. An animal, she was caged with an animal.



The creature snarled and she involuntarily sat up and tried to back away from it. It took a moment for the pain to break through her fear. “Ouch dammit,” she said as she pressed her palm against her forehead. Had she been in less pain she would have realised that the growl that came from the shadows was in fact a moan. As it was it took her several moments before she distinguished the word “water” from the growls.



Her eyes widened at the revelation. Ignoring the insistent pain she pushed herself up of the floor and stumbled into the darkness almost falling as her foot came in contact with the heavy chains. Kneeling down she turned the form over and stared into Riddick’s bruised and bloodied face. Suddenly she found she couldn’t breath. His eyes shot open and glared wildly at her. Reaching up she tried to loosen his grip on her throat. “Richard,” she croaked. “It’s me.” She pried at his fingers, “It’s me.” Slowly the humanity returned to his eyes and his hand fell away from her. He whispered her name and she nodded smiling. “I’m here,” she said pulling him into her lap. Cradling him she leant down and pressed her lips on his, tasting blood. “Oh baby, what have they done to you?” His eyes fluttered closed. “Water,” he moaned.







Ignoring her own throbbing head and the threatening nausea she climbed to her feet and all but ran to the bars yelling for a guard. It took several attempts before a young man with sandy coloured hair hurried to her cell.



“What’s the matter,” he asked concerned, peering into the darkness. “He isn’t loose is he?”



“What? No. He needs water.”



“Oh,” he seemed relieved. “You do know who that is, don’t you?”



She looked at him blankly.



“That’s Richard Riddick. You know, the murderer?” he sounded awestruck. “I wouldn’t get too close to him. Who knows what someone like that would do to a pretty lady like you?”



“What?” she asked pressing her hand to her forehead as the thumping returned with a vengeance.



“Killer headache huh?” he asked nodding. “I could probably get you something for that.”



He turned and walked down the hall still talking aimlessly, “I’m sorry we had to put you in the same cage as that monster but there was no other option. The place is full to overflowing. We had to chain him up you know. He got away from the mercs when they brought him on board, ghosted four of them before we managed to subdue him.”



He returned and handed her a couple of tablets and a small bottle of water. “Here take these. You should be feeling better in no time.”



She tossed the tablets down her throat and cracked the seal on the water with the intention of taking a small sip but before she knew it she had downed half the liquid. She hadn’t realised just how thirsty she was.



“I need more water” she stated studying the guard, “and food.” Then as an afterthought she added, “and a medikit.”



The guard peered into the back of the cell again and nodded. “I guess that would be ok. I mean I’m sure he is worth more alive than dead anyways. Just be careful though, who knows what going five days without food and water would do to a creature like that.”



“Five days?” she all but yelled at the guard in exasperation. “Dammit what kind of monsters are you people?”



“But it’s Riddick…” he stammered.



“I don’t give a shit who he is. You don’t torture people like that. Get me that water now!” she demanded.



“Geesh, relax will ya?” he mumbled as he wandered away again.









At first it seemed like a dream. It started out like the countless other dreams he had had in the last few days; the sweet freshness of life’s source filling him, coating his tongue and drizzling down his parched throat. His dehydrated body slowly roused itself, switching on all the nonessential functions that had shutdown in its quest for survival, absorbing the precious liquid like a sponge. Gradually he began to regain consciousness, although unwillingly since a part of him refused to believe that this was anything more than a dream. Too many times had he woken from the same sweet dream only to find dirt and grit in his mouth instead of water. Too many times had he tried to swallow only to find that even his saliva had turned to dust.



“Dammit Richard wake up!” She drizzled a little more water onto his lips and it trickled into his mouth. Still he didn’t move. She had been at it for what seemed an eternity, kneeling down on the ground with his head resting on her lap, ever so slowly moistening his mouth. She was finding it hard to restrain herself from pouring the water down his throat, knowing full well that the only thing that would accomplish is to make him gag and retch. He needed to retain the liquid, not expel it. With each passing moment her worry grew exponentially. “If he doesn’t react soon…” she shook her head and pushed the thought from her mind. “Don’t you die on me Richard B. Riddick. Don’t you fucking dare!” She thought about slapping him, shocking him into waking but by the look of him he had already suffered enough of a beating.



“Wake up!” She demanded shaking him and once again got no response. She poured some of the water into her hand and wiped it over his face, then tipped a few more drops into his mouth. Her agitation was steadily turning into desperation. “Please baby wake up,” she whispered. The tears started to well in her eyes. She leaned her head down onto his chest and tried to suppress a sob. “Don’t leave me. Not like this.” She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the overwhelming urge to cry.



“Get off me woman.”



It was barely more than a whisper and if she hadn’t had her ear on his chest she would not have heard it. Her head shot up and she looked into his face questioningly.



“Richard?” she breathed.



His eyes fluttered open and slowly focused on her. She exhaled in relief and smiled.



“Hi” she whispered as a lone tear left a wet smudge down her cheek.



“Are those tears?” he croaked



“Hell No!” she sniffed and wiped the back of her hand across her face, “like I’d cry over you.”