Metallic
folder
M through R › Pitch Black
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
10
Views:
2,754
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
M through R › Pitch Black
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
10
Views:
2,754
Reviews:
4
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.
6
6
***
Riddick had decided that once Johns was off his back, he was staying on Centauri.
Whichever way he looked at it, it really was his kind of planet. Twenty-seven hour a day pitch blackness, no sun and no lawmen. Definitely no Slam. Cheap boarding houses every second street with tight-lipped proprietors, a bar on every corner, a whorehouse down every alley. More people than he could kill in a lifetime. And best of all, no one to keep him from doing exactly what he wanted. No one except Johns, and soon even he would cease to be a problem.
He didn’t mind the rain. The heavy three-quarter length leather coat he was wearing kept most of it off him, even if it was a size or two too small to be ideal. He liked the feel of the water trickling over his shaven head, down over his neck and past the collar of the coat. He liked the feel of it pooling in the hollow at the base of his throat as he tilted his head back. It pooled in the eyes of his goggles and made it seem almost like he was underwater.
As he smiled, a few drops slipped between his parted lips. He even liked the taste of it. The Centauri rain tasted metallic. Riddick liked the taste of metal.
He let the water drain from his goggles and walked into the bar. The light was low enough inside that he could have taken them off and seen comfortably, but he didn’t bother. He just wiped out the eyes with his thumb and strode over to the bar, the soles of his boots sticking awkwardly to the rubber floor.
“Ah, Mr. Riddick”, said the barkeep. “What can I get you?”
“Whiskey”, he replied as he took a seat, removing the coat and shaking off the excess water. He watched it drain away on the floor. There must have been something mixed into the rubber that absorbed it, he realised. Fucking strange planet, Centauri. Be he could get used to it.
“Man was in here earlier, askin’ after you”, the barkeep said as he set the dirty glass down on the bar, splashing in three fingers of a dark amber whiskey.
Riddick quirked an eyebrow and took the glass, taking a sip. Centauran whiskey tasted like metal too. Metallic and cold and fifty percent proof. It tasted blue and silver, icy like the rain.
“He tell you his name?”
“Nope. Jus’ asked where he could find you. Asked for you by name an’ all, like you said ouldould. Friend of yours?”
“Something like that. You tell him where to find me?”
“Sure. Y’know, he had the look of a marshal”.
Riddick smiled, easing up his goggles as he took another sip of the strange drink. “Nothin’ for you to worry about, old man”, he said. “We go way back. Saved his life once”. He downed the rest of the glass, rubbing at the rim with the pad of his thumb. “You know, you might wanna clean these glasses. They’re filthy”.
The barkeep smiled. “You’re the first to complain”, he said.
Riddick slapped down a few credits on the bar, standing, sliding the goggles back down over his eyes. “Mind if I take this one?” he asked, holding up the empty, dirty glass.
“Be my guest, Mr. Riddick. You’ll be comin’ back?”
“I’ll be seeing you”.
Riddick turned and strode out the way he came, back into the cold rain.
He held up the glass to eye level and watched as it filled. He tipped it out and cleaned it with the hem of his shirt, then filled it again re tre taking a mouthful. His teeth clicked against the glass as he held the water in his mouth a second. It tasted metallic. The glass would do.
***
***
Riddick had decided that once Johns was off his back, he was staying on Centauri.
Whichever way he looked at it, it really was his kind of planet. Twenty-seven hour a day pitch blackness, no sun and no lawmen. Definitely no Slam. Cheap boarding houses every second street with tight-lipped proprietors, a bar on every corner, a whorehouse down every alley. More people than he could kill in a lifetime. And best of all, no one to keep him from doing exactly what he wanted. No one except Johns, and soon even he would cease to be a problem.
He didn’t mind the rain. The heavy three-quarter length leather coat he was wearing kept most of it off him, even if it was a size or two too small to be ideal. He liked the feel of the water trickling over his shaven head, down over his neck and past the collar of the coat. He liked the feel of it pooling in the hollow at the base of his throat as he tilted his head back. It pooled in the eyes of his goggles and made it seem almost like he was underwater.
As he smiled, a few drops slipped between his parted lips. He even liked the taste of it. The Centauri rain tasted metallic. Riddick liked the taste of metal.
He let the water drain from his goggles and walked into the bar. The light was low enough inside that he could have taken them off and seen comfortably, but he didn’t bother. He just wiped out the eyes with his thumb and strode over to the bar, the soles of his boots sticking awkwardly to the rubber floor.
“Ah, Mr. Riddick”, said the barkeep. “What can I get you?”
“Whiskey”, he replied as he took a seat, removing the coat and shaking off the excess water. He watched it drain away on the floor. There must have been something mixed into the rubber that absorbed it, he realised. Fucking strange planet, Centauri. Be he could get used to it.
“Man was in here earlier, askin’ after you”, the barkeep said as he set the dirty glass down on the bar, splashing in three fingers of a dark amber whiskey.
Riddick quirked an eyebrow and took the glass, taking a sip. Centauran whiskey tasted like metal too. Metallic and cold and fifty percent proof. It tasted blue and silver, icy like the rain.
“He tell you his name?”
“Nope. Jus’ asked where he could find you. Asked for you by name an’ all, like you said ouldould. Friend of yours?”
“Something like that. You tell him where to find me?”
“Sure. Y’know, he had the look of a marshal”.
Riddick smiled, easing up his goggles as he took another sip of the strange drink. “Nothin’ for you to worry about, old man”, he said. “We go way back. Saved his life once”. He downed the rest of the glass, rubbing at the rim with the pad of his thumb. “You know, you might wanna clean these glasses. They’re filthy”.
The barkeep smiled. “You’re the first to complain”, he said.
Riddick slapped down a few credits on the bar, standing, sliding the goggles back down over his eyes. “Mind if I take this one?” he asked, holding up the empty, dirty glass.
“Be my guest, Mr. Riddick. You’ll be comin’ back?”
“I’ll be seeing you”.
Riddick turned and strode out the way he came, back into the cold rain.
He held up the glass to eye level and watched as it filled. He tipped it out and cleaned it with the hem of his shirt, then filled it again re tre taking a mouthful. His teeth clicked against the glass as he held the water in his mouth a second. It tasted metallic. The glass would do.
***