Match, point... game

Chapter seven:
Enough is enough

WARNING!! Absolutely not intended for children! Read at your own risk.


George hissed sharply as she was pushed to the ground, her hands flying up to protect her face. Wrists were bashed with a sharp, horrible force that caused them to cry out in agony while her hair was quickly grabbed gruffly within slimy fingers. Her brown eyes flared open, her mouth forming into a snarl. A punch to her jaw made a sharp metallic taste fill her mouth while her head whipped to one side, a dark red spot forming in the point of impact. The woman was pulled jarringly to her feet by her hair, her teeth clenching to hold in a yelp of pain, bringing her hands back to the person holding her and gripping their arm tightly until she felt the bones groan. With a sweep of her feet she bent low, forcing his body up hers, and slammed him into the ground, his hand disengaging from her locks and his back letting out a sickening crack.

She turned around in time to get caught with a hammer like weapon to the stomach, sending her stumbling back a few steps and gagging on air. She heard the gun cock before she saw the blast of light that came with the plasma rounds and narrowly ducked in time, instead the shot hitting onto the wall, blasting apart the rocks that lived there and melting whatever metal resided there. George side stepped with precision, just close enough not to get cut horribly on her arm, and used her elbow to jab a guy hard in the larynx, the familiar gurgle and shock on his face greeting her just as red began to pour from his lips. He fell to the ground on his knees, gripping at his crushed wind pipe and punctured veins, shaking with coming death.

Flipping backwards, using her heels to deliver a quick blow to another guards jaw before she was over the railing and gripping onto a cord, her chest heaving and starting to climb nearly effortlessly up the thick hanging. Shots were fired at her as she elevated herself, then, locking her ankles around the cord, she leaned backwards and let a bunch of rocks fly that she had been holding within her belt, hitting the men square in the face, one in the temple hard enough to knock him unconscious. She barely had time to release her ankles before the shots were grazing passed her. Air hit her nose as she fell, her shirt ruffling in the wind, while her brown eyes never left the darkness she was plummeting to. Her brain was working in overtime, as it always did in a fight, and yet she was extremely calm when her hands once more reached out and latched onto the cord, using the force of her fall to swing herself around and back onto the platform with the rest of guards, pulling out her now two shanks, spinning them angrily.

These fools had dared come to try to take her to the warden, sighting her for some stupid ass fight with the faculty she hadn’t even taken part in. The ass holes didn’t know who they were fucking with… The remaining three guards were advancing on her, the three that were knocked down groaning and starting to stir. A large grin began to plaster itself on the woman’s face as she slid a foot back and brought one weapon near her navel and the other near her ear, poised and ready to strike. Their weapons lasers were fixed on her and though there was limited space in this area of the ring she knew damn well that she would be able to dodge all but one of them, and she had decide what weapon she wanted to get hit with. Two were tasers, the other was a wicked plasma pulser that had been sent down as a security measure to make damn sure that they didn’t fail. She figured the tasers would be her best option since the pulser would rip through her flesh like butter, and since she and Riddick were due for another visit to discuss his plans, fucking finally that bastard, she wanted to actually be awake and coherent and not gushing blood.

They fired and she moved, flipping back again, using the floor as a jumping panel, and though the taser barbs went passed her she was nicked on her deltoid and a jolt of electricity went through her. She almost didn’t have time to roll away and gasp as the bright blue and green light passed by her head in a singe of motion, burning the tips of her hair and making her grumble under her breath. She was moving even though her body was now shaking from the sudden pushing electricity to her arm, still going through her veins vengefully, and used the railing to vault around a pillar of rock and then slam into the side of one of the guards who had been foolish enough to take his eyes off of her. He fell to the ground just as she landed to have a spray of red erupt from his leg, right where his artery was located above his knee cap in his left thigh. It lifted into the air with a terrible gurgling spray, flowing over the red headed woman and the stunned guards. Stunned long enough for her to surge forwards, despite a limp from one of her feet nearly being smashed by a damn hammer, swept her steal toed boots hard into one guys jaw before spinning around and stabbing her wicked knife into his neck, right between his Adam’s Apple and omoyhiod muscle in his neck, watching as yet another spray erupted from the dying and screaming man’s neck.

Letting the body fall she turned with her shoulders hunched, her entire body relaxed, while her constitution was covered in crimson. The liquid was sinking into her clothing, settling in dangerously, while her brown eyes were flaring with rebellion, anger, and that indefinable rush that came with the kill. The one guard left standing raised his weapon with a grunt, watching as she just stood there and started to take a heavy footed step towards him, deliberately stepping on a survivors hand to stop his pursuit of one of the fallen weapons and crushing the bones within his hand. A loud cry sounded but the guard that was staring her down did not waver in his sighting, the laser focused on her chest warningly.

“Stop, I’ll shoot!” he snapped at her and started to charge up the deadly weapon.

George licked her lips free of the blood but stopped all the same. She glanced him over for a second, taking in his pathetic excuse for armor to cover vital spots that were little more than extra thick clothe and some Kevlar, and even his shabby clothing. Then her eyes caught on the ring that glittered on his finger and the locket chain that hung around his neck, undoubtedly holding a precious picture of a little boy and a girl along with a lock of hair from each, waiting… waiting for their daddy to come home from his prison job. He was sweating hard, the liquid dripping from his hair in thick, salty beads, and the smell mixed nauseatingly with the surrounding blood haze and pissed pants. He was afraid, his glazed eyes and hurried panting was clue enough for her to see, but his fear was so great that it was cogent and made her pause for a second in her murderous intentions. Family man… had kids, a wife… she winced and shook her head momentarily to rid of the surge of memories cascading over her mind.

She span one shank in her hand and pointed the dripping end to the guard, her eyes narrowing. “I will kill you. I’m giving you a chance to run,” she muttered in barely more than a whisper. Her other hand gripped her other shiv, each of them still having chunks of tissue on their jagged edges, while her fingers were starting to grow sticky and slow with the amount of drying crimson on them. The more she was in this death hole the more her mind was losing out to the animal in her, and though she had always hated the smell of death, something about this time seemed too satisfying. Much too satisfying.

“What makes you think you’ll get close enough to use that?” the guard scoffed but
nervously. She could see him shaking… could see the hairs on his head quivering with the rest of his body though he was putting up a valiant attempt not to show it.

George let out a low and deliberately audible breath, voicing her displeasure. “Last chance… you fire that, you hit the floor within seconds gushing blood from the sweet spot and you’re kids will lose a father,” she stated. Though she spoke logically her outward looks were that of a crazed and deranged killer, caked and coated in red, her hair loose and wild about her face, while her skin was covered in dirt and bruises. Why should he listen to her? It was what he was thinking… not that I can blame him, she idly thought while she still stared this man down. I wouldn’t’ listen to me. I would shoot and ghost my ass. I don’t deserve to live. And yet I keep going on, keep surviving. I wonder when it’s gonna come to an end. Not here though, not in this rat shit, no… I’ll die out there, in the stars, on whatever damn planet some bounty hunter found me on, in the middle of a great fight. “Go home to your family. You don’t stand a chance against me…” she whispered lightly, her eyes shinning.

There was a shift in the energy around her and she knew instantly. She heard the click of the trigger and was already moving out of the way by the time the flash of green and blue had fired. She had gotten for the most part free of the blast but was clipped hard in the side, causing the skin to blister and then shatter, her teeth gritting as red started to mix with her victims. But she didn’t stop, she was running at him now, low to the ground, both of her weapons at her sides like thieves knives, her personal weapon of choice. Cutting his weapons strap in a flurry of motion, sweeping her leg under him, and then pushing him down with her elbow to the back of his neck, he let out a cry and fell forwards onto the grating of the platform. He hit with a crash and she was instantly atop of him, bringing her shank hard into the sweet spot, fourth lumbar down, left of the spine, the aortic artery… He gasped when the pain flared through him and there was a splatter of blood when she yanked her weapon out, her teeth bared while her side throbbed and gushed. George watched the red bubble and splutter out of him in a river of red, splashing her on her face, soaking into her hair, and snarling to herself when it hit her eye. She watched his life end then and there, watching until the blood stopped gushing and just started to ooze from the wound, now mixed with a watery substance signifying the end of his life.

George stood with a swagger, checking her side idly, her head swimming. She knew that she needed to stop the bleeding, but it was her creed… no survivors. No one got to live if they fought with her. So, walking over to the man who’s hand she had crushed she rolled him over, though he struggled, put her boot onto his chest, and raised her weapon above her head. It pierced straight through his fourth and fifth rib to pierce into his lungs and the blood vessels that covered them. He was gagging on his own red when she turned to the other two. One, the one she had forced over her back, was squirming but unable to move. She had made sure with the perspective of the fall that he would snap his spine and thus sever the cord, making him useless. The other was still groaning from being beamed in the temple. She was on him first, pulling up his head and tipping her knife blade into his neck. Dragging it along in a practiced line he was dead before she reached the other side, the platform now dripping red from its side and through its grate.

The woman walked over with a tired look and stared down at the gasping, broken guard with the sledge hammer. Crouching down she cocked her head to the side, pursing her lips in thought. Then she put her hand to his forehead and felt his pulse through the throbbing vein there, feeling how fast and hard it was. “Give me a reason to spare you…” she breathed.

“P-Please… I don’t deserve this! I just, I just came for the money! It was good pay.”

“So you’re a merc basically?” George’s tone turned sour and the guard knew he was in trouble. With a snap of his neck he was limp and gone. She turned her back to the fight scene and started to talk up the stairs to her cell where she could check out her wounds and fix which ones she could with limited resources.

Damn mercs… the thought as she continued her stumbling trek upwards. By the time she had reached her floor she was gasping for air quietly, her side having left a trickle of red after her while her hand was gripping into the wound, trying to apply pressure. Her vision was starting to get fuzzy around the edges and her ribs were hurting badly from that shot with that damn hammer. She’d been sloppy in that fight… she had let them get the better of her, she had been cocky and arrogant. Never thought they’d actually have a pulser… it was a cowards move to bring in plasma, always had been always would be in her book. But god did they do a lot of damage in one shot.

She stumbled across a plane of other inmates, all staring at her with wide eyes, her attire screaming a brutal fight. George was sure that she was not going to make it to her cell now, her teeth were gritting and her mind was starting to go. There was only a few yards… just a few… and she would be home safe. It wasn’t a fatal wound, the pulsing had stopped and the blood flow wasn’t as bad as when it had impacted. She would just need to tend the wound, stop the bleeding indefinitely, rest up a few days and let her supply return to normal. But… all that rested on her getting back to where she called a temporary home.

“Jesus Christ, George!” her graying vision filled with a flash of blond and black and soon her slumping form was supported by the soft hands of Ave. George let out a relieved groan and allowed her legs to give way under her, hands reaching up and grabbing onto the teenagers shoulders. “What the hell happened to you!?” the younger yelped, pulling her away from the steadily growing crowd towards where the red headed woman’s housing was.

“Pulsar… to the left oblique muscles, glancing, superficial but staunch the bleeding and wrap my side tightly in any bandage you can… find…” George had to take a gulp of air, her feet dragging under her as she tried to held walk on. Fuck, she hadn’t been hurt this bad in a while. Not that it was bad… she was just going into shock. “It’s not life…
threatening. Just… treat the wounds, get some water… wash them out before hand.”

“But that water is damn filthy!” Ave resisted. George had closed her eyes, she didn’t know when or why, but her head had lolled forwards. Their journeying stopped abruptly and the clang of metal bars alerted her she was in some way shape or form ‘safe’, or as safe as one could be in a double max. She swatted Ave away for a moment before sinking to the ground in the middle of the unit, her breathing harried and her eyes flittering open only to see spots of black. Not much time left awake. Damn shock was making a weakling out of her.

“It’s fine… had… shots…” with that she fell forwards and hit the ground hard on her chin, passing out on the cold unforgiving floor. Ave released a distressed noise and hurried from the room to get anything even remotely resembling a bandage.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Riddick paused when he came up the stairs and was greeted with the stench of many deaths and an overpowering amount of blood. He glanced to and fro, his goggled eyes protecting him from the light of this level while his senses were pulling him towards the scene of violence. Like a moth to the flame Riddick followed, his hands resting on his shiv’s and his muscles rippling in anticipation, not sure of what he’d find.

Rounding a corner he found something that he had yet to see at this place. Six guards scattered around the grating of this floor, their bodies battered and broken, and each hemorrhaging crimson goo. He stopped again and put his shiv’s back onto his hips, cocking his head in interest at what had taken place here. Red was splattered everywhere, on the walls, on the floors, it was even starting to drip down into the deeper levels from the very edges of the landing, landing on some lower max or hitting someone on the head. There were already insects buzzing on the corpses, laying eggs, procreating, and eating at the death spray. In all his time thus far in this place he had yet to see a picture this grotesque and grim and just overly violent.

Sure, the prison population and the guards that lived here got into it on a regular basis, far more than was permissible by law, but seldom did this many die. Or in this manner. Crouching down next to one of the first he came across, one that had had his hand crushed from the after death swelling and dark blue and black bruising, had a hole straight into his chest and through the walls of his muscles. A shallow wound, by all means, but one that went straight for the kill, straight for the weakness of the chest, the lungs. The heart was too well protected next to the breast bone, the lungs were the best target when going for something in the ribcage. This had the markings of someone who knew what they were doing. He glanced over his shoulder at another victim of someone’s rage and spotted not a stab wound but a crushed neck that was seeping red from the mouth and causing the near by vessels around it to turn deathly dark and spread like a cancer. Crushed trachea to where the fractures of the cartilage would move and slice through the surrounding veins and arteries. A difficult move to pull off if you were a newbie or didn’t know anatomy…

Riddick stood and walked over the slick ground carefully, making his movements as silent as would be permitted. He glanced over the other two victims, one with a wound right to the vein in his leg above the knee cap and a bruise that was forming deeply post mortem on his side and arm, while the others jaw was dislocated and had a deeper stab wound than the others to his neck between a major muscle and his frontal throat. His inspection ended with the final victim, forgoing one with an uninteresting snapped neck and spine from the awkward angle he was laying at, and stared down at a man that had been flipped over and was covered in all of his bodies seeping remains.

This was the work of a professional; now he was certain. Not many people knew about the sweet spot other than ones that worked explicitly in the field of killing other people. The man, whose locket was now hanging from the grating and the pictures of his children hanging down with carelessness, had a puncture wound right to his artery in along his lumbar disks. Riddick glanced upwards and noted the droplets on the ceiling even in long gash like lines and nodded to himself in self affirmation. There was no mistaking it… Coming to a standing he looked around with a scowl, his nose sniffing at the air questioningly. There was something here over the overpowering scent of death and bodies relieving their bowls of their contents, but he couldn’t put his hand on it. It was so familiar to him… spicy, heady, strong, and yet from under the other scents it was weak and feeble, barely clinging to the air.

Deciding it was nothing Riddick continued his walk, nudging one body with boot in passing, and moved up another flight of stairs. He had fully concocted his get away plan now. It was full and ready to go, all it needed was its second most vital player and there was a very excellent chance they would get out of here. It would happen fast when it came, they were going to go through that vent, she was going to take out the guards in the control room, shut off the security then the power to the Rec room where at seven at night almost all of the lazy ass fuckers were lounging around, locking them in. Then she would blast a hole wide enough through it with a plasma gun and he would come through the entrance, they would both bring the elevator down and proceed up to the top floor where by then there would undoubtedly be twenty to thirty people waiting for them. This is where it hinged on both her own fighting ability and his. If hers was lacking in anyway they were screwed and would get sent to the cryo beds below where they would hardly get to wake up save for an hour every day to move around, and even then they would be separated and unable to form another plan of escape. This was their only shot. It would need to be perfect and timed down to the second for it to work.

Georgie girl was key to his victory. He didn’t’ like to think that he would need someone’s help to get out of here, or out of anywhere for that matter. Trust and friendship only hurt those that he got close to, he was better of not letting anyone near him because of the fucking shit that happened, but this couldn’t be avoided. He couldn’t’ do it on his own and he was dragging her in on it whether he liked it or not. Riddick just wondered what they would do once they were off this rock. Then again… that could be decided when they were actually up there and among the stars rather than down here and with rock and rotting metal.

He had climbed several stairs now and was just about to walk up another flight when something came tearing passed him. He paused, recognizing the blur of blond as his girls little pet. Turning he watched the blond run a few more steps, stop with a flurry of motion not to fall over in her hurry, and turn to him with a snap, her green orbs wide. Blood was covering her front and there was a sense of panic about her that Riddick found he didn’t like… Something was very wrong.

“Scary bald guy! Oh, thank god I ran into Scary bald guy!” she suddenly threw her hands up in the air and ran over to him. She grabbed his wrist and moved to pull him down the corridor and towards somewhere he didn’t want to go but he resisted and stayed put, using his superior strength to merely pull her back slightly with a rotation of his shoulder. Ave turned to him with a shocked look before doing a strange dancing motion back and forth between him and the waiting area where the scent of blood was coming from.

“What?” Riddick asked impatiently, his tone deep and threatening.

She tired to pull on him again only to produce him ripping his arm out from her grasp and making her fall to her ass on the floor with a loud cry. She glared over at him with a snarl, frustration evident in her face. Coming to a huffy standing she pointed down the hall then to the blood on her shirt and back again, finally spitting out, “Would you get your ass in gear!? She needs your help! You’re the one boning her, don’t’ you care that she’s been shot!!??”

Riddick stopped from moving up a step and stared down at the hyperactive teen with a curt look. Then he took a cautionary sniff and winced when the pure smell of George hit his nose from the blood splattered upon the young woman’s clothing. Then it hit him. The dead guards, the smoking plasma pulser, the mingled blood, and the look of a professional job; cursing himself for his thick headedness he stepped from the stair and started to walk forwards without even looking at Ave. “Don’t just stand there, get me someone’s shirt, now,” he barked behind him as he marched off towards the one place that the red headed woman would go.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Plasma pulsers graze to the side. Nothing major, just enough to rip the skin apart and cause another nasty scar to go with all of the other ones that were on her stomach. They were a bitch, hurt like all hell, and made you feel like shit. They were designed to do the most damage for the amount of energy given off, and though this wouldn’t kill her, it was enough to send her into shock and make her pass out from the pain of it. Luckily she had not lost too much blood or he would have actually had to worry about her. Instead, all he had done was ripped up a shirt that Ave had ‘borrowed’ from Luke and had ripped it to shreds using his shivs and set to work.

Years of having over a million dollar bounty on your head and you learned quickly how to heal up wounds and care for them to the best of your abilities. He had first pealed off her shirt to make sure that her wounds were not life threatening, and they hadn’t been, just a nasty little hole in her side that hadn’t even pierced the abdominal wall. Then he had lifted her carefully and started to wrap the still seeping wound firmly enough that it cut off major circulation but not to the point where it would be an actual tourniquet. The bandage could be removed within the day probably and she would be fine within the next week, luckily for him. The other wounds had received a once over from the murderer and he found them to be superficial at worst, some no more than mere scratches of where a prong had cut her or where her ribs had met with the blunt end of one of the sledge hammers that the guards carried.

With that scene at the bottom of the double max area she had proven in his mind that her skills were up to par. Now it was just getting her body there. And so Riddick had sent Ave to get some water to wash out the more minor wounds, having already cleaned out the major one, and sat back to watch her in her sleep.

Georgie’s shirt was still off; he hadn’t felt like it putting it back. He would tell her that he didn’t want to open up her wound just when it had stopped bleeding but in reality he was just being a pervert, admiring the form of someone as powerful as her in her slumber. Never actually having seen her with her shirt off he was surprised at just how many scars there were on her figure from previous encounters. There weren’t many, not as many as his own, but there were not enough to be considered few; no, this woman had seen battle after battle and had lived to tell about it. There was one in particular that caught his eye when he stared at it intently enough. It was long and thick, running from her navel in a diagonal to where he assumed it ended right under her left nipple, taught and shinning in the limited light of the room it was a morbid curiosity of her body. It looked like it should have been a death blow, probably meant as one, but here she was now in the Slam with him.

Then there were various bullets scarring here and there, on her shoulder, her hip, and one right next to her collar bone where someone had obviously aimed for her heart and she had moved in time to save her life. He reached down and ran a finger over the bandage and over where he muscles dipped in to show off the cut of prowess behind them. A lioness caged within such a small prison would not do, he decided. All of the other inmates didn’t have it in them to get out of here and stay out. They would eventually be returned at some point and his entire little escape would be, in some aspects, a waste if his partner or partners was simply returned here. Not her though, he could tell that she would evade, she would run, and she would ghost anyone trying to send her back here. A strong survival instinct, he admired that in a woman.

If his plan went well and good then they would both be out of here within the month and then they would be on their own ways. After all, he wasn’t about to take on another ward of any kind, considering what happened to Kyra, let alone someone who was perfectly capable defending herself. He was helping himself by helping her, which was just how it was and how it would stay. Now, if he got a good few fucks in on the way there then hell yea he’d allow it, but this was not permanent. He wasn’t meant to be around people. Terrible things happened to him and those around him, he had learned that the hard way.

Riddick leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms over his knees and staring off into space. Thoughts once more turned to the Necromongers and just what was going on back on their planet, or whatever planet they felt like taking over next. What would happen to him now? Now that he was ‘caught’ what would they do? Would they come after him, try to make him rejoin, be their Lord Marshall, and if not, then what would happen? Would he have to kill their envoy sent to gather him back up, or would they simply let him rot in this place… or assume he had. Who had they gotten to be the new leader of the necroshits? He wouldn’t be surprised if there had been a surge of power hungry backstabbing little ass babies trying to vie for the position they had sworn allegiance to him. Not that it mattered to him anyway. The whole you keep what you kill thing, though interesting, proved to be taxing in the least.

Winning someone’s loyalty wasn’t the same as earning it. You could kill someone’s husband and claim them as your wife, but that didn’t’ make them love you, you could kill someone’s king and basically force them to kneel to you, but that didn’t quell the hatred in their eyes or the mistrust of you. There was an intense sense of disrespect coming from so many of the noble’s of the necromongers for not only becoming the Lord Marshall as he had but also for the simple fact of being a Furyan. It seemed even when forced to bow the racism that still existed within their fibered beings, refusing to submit until the very end. In one way Riddick supposed he admired that, in another he had known it would happen and wasn’t even slightly disappointed. He had no illusions of grander, no reason to even think he was meant for greater things than the fall of the necromongers and bringing them to their knees.

Oh yes, he had done major damage before he had left. Not only had he killed, fully, the quasi-dead, the oracles basically that told them what to do and who they were dealing with, but he had also blown up their precious little Necropolis with the self destruct as his final command to the computer as Lord Marshall. It had been so beautiful, sinking, spewing fire and ash and metal into the night sky, setting it ablaze in his purple vision. It would take them years to get back on their feet, if ever. He had decimated quite a few of them with his leaving, and since he had left, and no one had killed him, then they were without a leader and they were like lost sheep, begging for someone to come and slaughter him. Maybe that’s why they had wanted Riddick in a Slam… hoping against hope that someone in here could be a match for him and stab him, perhaps in his sleep. Showed them, there ain’t no one better at this kinda shit than Richard B. Riddick. Though Dame Vaako had been gorgeous… just a shame she was a viper ready to strike him down whenever it was to her best interest. No one could be trusted.

“Fucking shit… my head…” he was pulled from his thoughts abruptly.

“About time you woke up,” Riddick stated firmly and turned to where he was staring down at the injured woman. She was stirring groggily, one hand coming to her forehead while the other clutched at the ground. Her back was arching and her legs were writhing against the ground for some kind of reprieve from the agony that was undoubtedly pounding within her skull. He had been hit by a plasma riffle too once and knew that the torture that followed made you sometimes wished that it had hit you and killed you rather than what was now happening. She must not of heard him because she groaned and put both her hands to her head and tried to shield her face from the light that was now on in her cell.

“Feel like I got hit by a fucking skiff!” George snarled to herself.

Riddick merely raised a sardonic eyebrow at this and looked out of the bars and into the prison outside. He was merely waiting for her to wake up fully to have the needed conversation on how they were getting out, as it was now she was half lucid and anything said would go in one ear, half absorb, and then fall out the other with a thud. She shifted against the ground and he glanced sidelong enough to see her try to sit up. “Hell no Red, ya got to stay down for a few hours,” Riddick said demandingly. When she didn’t listen to him and still, stubbornly, tried to right herself the stronger of the two pushed her down by a shoulder and held her there. It was then that he felt her go rigid under him for a few seconds then let out a hiss like chuckle from between grinding teeth, realizing just who he was.

George shifted under him but didn’t’ move her hand from her face, keeping it hidden and gripping at her temples. “Riddick?” it wasn’t a question just a baffled statement. “You didn’t strike me as a nursemaid…”

“I’m not, so don’t get used to it,” he corrected her. George merely rolled her neck from side to side, her legs still shifting and running along the ground. Riddick watched as her fingers suddenly slid from her face, her eyes shut tightly against the obtrusive light above, and found her bandaged up side, running over where the wound would be tenderly. Her eyes fluttered open for a second, confusion written in the brown orbs, before she grumbled and tossed to the side and shielded her vision, cursing the previously broken electrical monster. The pads of her digits froze on the coarse material and she cautiously slid her hand up and felt exposed skin of her stomach all the way up to her confining sports bra and scowled lightly.

She noticed her nakedness but to his surprise didn’t bring it up but merely smirked from under her screwed up expression before plopping her elbow over her face. “Damn guards… had to have guns. I could whop their asses in hand to hand, but they had to bring guns. And a pulser at that! At least it was an old model, those things are shitty and slow as all hell,” George muttered to no one in particular.

Not sensing that the comment was directed at him Riddick merely settled more against the wall and waited patiently for the inevitable. It would come here soon, he jus wondered what form it would be masked in when she asked it.

“Where’s Ave?” Georgina’s voice tittered uncertainly through her own flesh. Her side was pounding in time with her head now and it felt like her whole world had been shattered and turned upside down, filled with broken glass, and then she was forced to wade through it to get any semblance of understanding. Riddick’s silence answered her question well enough, the girl was out getting something he had asked her to go fetch, meaning that they were good and alone. Not for the first time and she was confident that this wouldn’t be the last. She was just pissed that he had to see her when she was at her weakest.
At least she was conscious now, that was a feet. “How long have I been out…?” she croaked, her voice suddenly straining from the pounding of the midget taking up room and board within her cranium. Next time she was at the doctors she was getting that thing evicted!

Riddick thumbed his shiv momentarily, furrowing his brows a moment. He counted off the minutes in his head then shrugged before he realized that she couldn’t see him due to her hiding in the crook of her arm. “Two hours, three tops. That little scene you made down stairs was pretty impressive, Georgie,” he stated.

George pulled her arm from her face and shot him and pensive look. He could once again almost hear the wheels inside of her mind turning, trying to form a good answer or maybe even to make sense of what he had said. Finally her lips opened in a slight ‘oh’ motion and she slapped her forehead with the palm of her hand, swearing several times over. “Great! I forgot to get rid of the bodies. I’m screwed.” Then a brief hope and she turned to Riddick, her stormy gaze hopeful against all hope. When he shook his head she returned to her favorite hobby, swearing and mentally berating herself. This was not good! If the guards found out that it was her, which they would somehow, she would be in even more trouble, get much more than a pounding and a tasering, and god knows what else. This was turning out to be a really shit day! First she was walking along then she’s surrounded by idiots that want to take her to damn warden, then she has to kill a bunch of guys one of which was a family guy, then she had gone and made a rookie mistake. Fucking fantastic!

When George once more looked at him, taking her arm from her face and finally looking like the light would not kill her on contact, she pursed her lips. Conversation even with normal people did not flow from either of them easily, he could tell that already, they were both loners, so it was difficult to form a complete coherent conversation. He was sure that if someone listened in on their talks, minus when he decided he wanted to molest her, which they would be confused as to why the topics jumped around so rapidly. It was simply because there wasn’t much to be said. A lot could be given through body language and silences. He appreciated that about other people sometimes, the people that understood that quiet could be just as telling as screaming at someone, that words were meaningless and that body language showed how you were really feeling. Not that he would allow himself to show much, he had learned how to control it to a great degree, but there were just some things he couldn’t hide, like how when she was staring at him in calculation like she was it made him stiffen up.

“So where’s my shirt?” she asked, breaking the quiet he was so enjoying.

Riddick grunted. “I didn’t want to reopen your wound,” part truth, part lie, okay mostly lie, but hey, he was a guy, he had needs.

George shot him a sneer before stretching her body out and once more trying to sit up but he once more pushed her down. She tilted her head to the side before almost purring, “Yea, right, you just wanted to see me topless.”

Riddick sensed the challenge in her tone and he growled before allowing a small smirk to spread onto his lips as well. He lowered himself down onto his hands to where his face was mere inches from hers, his goggles glimmering in the lamplight ominously. “I’ve been meaning to catch up to you for a while,” he said deeply and watched as her back shivered slightly, her wry grin never leaving her face. If one thing could be said about this girl it was that she was tempting the raging animal in him, purposefully, and that was so damn hot and arousing that he had a hard time controlling himself in that moment. The smell of stale and dry blood lingered heavily in his nose but now it was also drifting up with her growing acceptance of both of their needs.

George laughed at him full out and put her arms behind her head, causing her chest to lift up and her breasts within the confines of her bra to become firmer and rounder than before. He watched motion with an interested gaze before flickering back up to her as she grinned knowingly at him, all signs of previous discomfort when they had started their little game gone. “If I can’t sit up this poses a problem,” she commented idly, tilting her head to the side so that his breathing hit her lips. Her brown eyes glazed over slightly when his nose brushed unabashedly against hers.

“Why’s that, Georgie?” he rumbled, putting one hand on the floor beside her head, instincts screaming at him.

“That means you’ll have to be on top of me while he make out and you’re heavy. Like you said, don’t wanna reopen my wound…” she all but cooed at him.

Riddick boomed a chuckle at her, taking a moment to shift to where he was crouched over her. He brought his lips brushing teasingly to hers, listening to her let out a slightly flustered noise in return, before pulling away again and glancing down to her side, dragging his gaze along and watching the skin heat up under his watch. He pressed a large palm to the wound, feeling her elevated pulse through the bandage, and leaned down to where he was unnervingly close, to where her brown eyes were regarding him closely. Even if they had some kind of twisted understanding here, that he would get her out of here and that she would repay him with, clearly, sex, there was still a mistrust and suspicion that hung to her form in a nearly visible cloud. But he found that appealing, that constant scrutiny…

It was consensual and mutual attraction. Something about the way that she would look at him, glare at him, snort and growl defiantly, pulled him in and made him want to plow her into the ground, make her submit to him, make her see how much stronger he was than and to put her in and her delicious hell cat ways in place. And he knew, he could tell, that it was his danger that drew her to him, that made her even think about fucking around with him. It also had to do with the promise of freedom but he was sure if he had not told her that he was going to bust out of here that she would have still been perfectly willing to be his ‘playmate’ for a while. She could smell death on him, could see it in his eyes, could taste the danger and the mystery around him, it almost exuded from his pores, and it fascinated, scared, and turned her one like nothing he had ever seen before. She didn’t care if he could snap her in half, though in the beginning he had seen that war in her mind from the way that she had stared at him on the boat, all curiosity and interest, it certainly wasn’t there any more. It was the thrill… the same thrill she had undoubtedly felt when she had been fighting for her life hours before.

Riddick had just settled his hips to hers and was ghosting his breath against her lips until she was hissing in impatient need, watching her eyes cast murder in his direction if he didn’t act already, when someone cleared their throat. Damn that blond girl and her stupid water fetching. Riddick turned his head slowly and dangerously, his mouth coming into a firm line, while the woman under him tensed only marginally, her gaze now fixated on the girl as well. When his hard goggled gaze fell upon Ave, standing in the doorway with a jug of water, a slightly awkward smile on her face, he felt like driving her away by any possible means that he could, one which involved a shiv and fire, lot’s of fire.

“Am I interrupting something?” Ave said with a slightly uncomfortable look on her face.

George sighed under him and he felt her shift to where her hands were pushing at his shoulders. He gave her a dark look, one that was promising that this wasn’t over. She stared back at him, her brown orbs hard and serious, her mouth in a emotionless line… but all he needed to be told was her hips sliding against his slyly out of the view of the younger inmate. Riddick rumbled in his chest but pulled off of her and stood, rolling his shoulders. He passed by Ave without so much as looking at her though he did make a purposeful knock of their shoulders, hard enough to jar her out of his way and to tell her a simple thing. If she interrupted them again then there might be consequences. He was getting impatient, he was tired of waiting.

When the mass of a man had gone the red head turned to Ave and stated very simply, “Honey, I think that I’m gonna have to cut our friendship off here. Don’t take it the wrong way, but you’re becoming a liability to my plans,” she breathed, stretching out and preparing herself for healing up for the rest of the day. An indignant grunt was all that she was met with and the sound of running off steps, causing a frown to pull at George’s mouth. The girl was a liability lately, she really was. She had walked in on Riddick and her twice now and she didn’t want any rumors that might spread to get to the guards and have them round them both up before their escape attempt. Not to mention now she wanted the bald killer so badly that next time she saw him she wasn’t sure she would be able to resist just ripping his clothes off.

It was a shame since the girl was only fiercely loyal to her. She had never done anything to deserve George’s scorn, and she wanted to keep it that way. She had toyed with the idea of getting her out as well as herself and Riddick but had quickly thought bad on the idea. Over the last few months Ave had been showing a twisting that she didn’t particularly care for, one that would show her off immediately in a crowd as the convict that she was, and she would end up in another Slam faster than George could count, one where she wouldn’t be as well… looked after as this one. The last thing she wanted was someone as soft and disturbed as Ave going into a Triple Max. She’d been once and somehow had gotten her neck out of it, and she would die before she allowed herself to go back to that particular one…

George growled at her forced decision and rolled over. It was also the fact that Ave had no fighting skills whatsoever. She would just get in the way, she would slow them down, she would be the reason they were caught. No, if George wanted her freedom Ave had to stay here, where at least she knew that the girl knew how to survive, where she knew that she would stay for a long time and eventually just become as bored as she was with the rings and prison house rumors. She just wished that for some reason this didn’t hurt as bad as it did, and she wasn’t talking about the throbbing in her side or her head.
Her eyes drifting closed she allowed herself to drift back off into sleep. Back off into dreams best left untouched.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The twin moons of her home planet were stunning when both were full and reflecting over the vast seas that swallowed half of the shimmering jewel. It was a peaceful world that had no qualms with others, no wars, and there was an understanding amongst all of the other religions that there was no need for senseless bloodshed to make others see their views. It was seen to many as an Eden among the other sun drenched and war torn systems around them… only issue was that there were rumors coming…

Telling, whispers, murmurs in the night, of a great foe that was coming towards them. They say that a comet proceeds them, that it appears in the atmosphere for a good week before they touched down, and when they did they decimated all within their reach. It was said that if you even so much as looked into their eyes that you would be doomed to die. There had yet to be any reported survivors of those star eaters that had already taken over a full thirty seven systems and were continuing their path of destruction. If they’re planet fell then the rest fell, it was how a Prime worked… billions of people dead. It would be horrible.

And the name muttered in the still of the night was… necromongers. A young fifteen year old Georgina stood with her back to the ocean, staring up at the sky with her brows furrowed. Her hair was pulled back in several gold bands while her body was clad in draping robes of sea green and deep blues, lined with gold, and a modest necklace of the Eye of God stood out upon her pale skin. Lips gaping she watched as a white, long, strong streak continued its slow path over the crest of her planet, fear gripping at her chest. They had come here, to her planet, and they were seeking to kill all within its confines.
Shouting and arguing filtered up from the pure white dome like building through the cut holes and a small smashing noise sounded. She crossed her arms over her scrawny form before licking her lips again and returning her gaze towards the ominous warning of their fate. Her father was down within her home, arguing with neighbors and with the local senator, a good friend, of just what this threat was and of what it meant. So far, there was no one that wanted to believe such a threat to be true. They were pretending that it was just another comet that was coming through the cosmos, pulled into their hot red giant star and tiny white dwarf, that it was perfectly safe, that there was no threat here. Paranoia had the strangest effects on people, she decided as the sea drenched wind pressed at her curly hair affectionately. It made some people realize the truth, embrace it, and run away, constantly looking over their shoulder in fear and terror, while others it made them merely think the problem didn’t exist whatsoever and that they were fine, safe, okay.

George snorted slightly but reached down a hand and patted a head full of fluffy, downy blond hair. Bright amber eyes flittered up towards her own dull brown ones and Georgina grinned at the small form of her brother, her eyes dancing with forced laughter. It was hard to think of anything cheerful when that thing was coming down upon them. Her whole world was going to come to an end and all she could do was watch the progress and listen to the arguing, all she could do was wait for the end…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“About time I found you,” Riddick was pulled from his thinking and glanced over his shoulder nonchalantly as the form of his current partner in crime came upon the ledge he was sitting on. She put her hands on the rock above her, a dark glimmer coming to her gaze. “We need to talk, big guy,” she commented dryly.

Riddick acknowledged her acute observation by looking back down into the bowels of the prison and listening to the cries of the monsters below as they were being fed the prisoners too slow to run from them. He listened to the rocks shift as she came to sit close to him, her thigh almost touching his. He wondered idly if the ledge could support this much weight but then dismissed it and reminded him that it was supporting an entire double max and single max, a few extra hundred pounds added to it could not do much harm.

He knew what she needed to talk about, he was thinking about it himself lately, and was determined that now was the time to finally hash it out. Their time to escape was coming soon, since he had heard word from a guard within the break room from his nightly observations that a new prisoner was on his way to the triple max area and that meant that most of the guards would be escorting him. Leaving them a hole in the defenses to work with… they would be distracted. He chose to avoid her calling him ‘big guy’.

When she was fully settled, leaning back against the cliff face while he crouched there like some kind of massive cat, he finally turned towards her. Her breathing hitched for a second when she noted that his goggles were up against his forehead and was affixed with the full gaze of his swirling eyes. For some reason every single woman he had come across was entranced by them, fascinated by the oddity, and he had used it to his advantage in more ways than one. If a woman was entranced with his eyes then he had a chance to either kill her or bed her, and given that his intentions with Georgie girl were clearly the latter he decided to let her get a good eyeful before turning back towards the darkness. “I figured you’d come,” he stated simply.

He could almost hear her blink a few times in rapid succession and then the slap of flesh on flesh informed him that she had yet again slapped her own forehead. Finally when the smell of exasperation and disappointment faded she shifted to where she was leaning her head against the rock wall and laughed softly. “Yea, I bet you did. You’re creepy.”

“I’ve been told that a lot,” Riddick said with a nod and heard her snicker at him in that same almost sadistic way that he was coming to mildly appreciate.

“You are not easy to find, Big Guy,” again with the nick name. He was starting to think that he might need to show her who was the boss of this twisted little friendship and that he didn’t need a nickname. He had a real one and he liked it just fine. Shooting her a glare over his shoulder she didn’t seem all that phased though her heart sped up very lightly. She knew that she was important to his plan… smart girl. When he didn’t take the compliment in anyway that she was hoping for he watched her sigh and shrug, her head shaking from side to side in a try to get her tight muscles to relax.

“You’re side, how is it?” Riddick questioned suddenly as he eased himself down onto the rock and was once more sitting like she was. He pulled out a shiv and started to twirl it around in his fingers to get the added sensation, keeping his skills with the blade as sharp as humanly possible. He could sense her stun at him showing he cared about how her side was doing, after a few days of it being healing. A shifting once more sounded and the pulling of fabric told him to look sideways to where his vision was filled with Georgie girl holding onto the rock surely while holding up her shirt, showing off the large but firmly in place scab that would take a knife or very hard hit to disturb.
She pulled it down and smirked at him, bringing her legs up to her chest. He let out a small growl at her taking away his view of her side and skin but decided to let it go. “As good as it has gonna get if we’re doing this thing any time soon. I have a feeling my time is running up here,” she stated with a knowing look. So she’d heard the stories somehow as well.

Riddick nodded his agreement and looked upwards to make sure that no one was listening to them from above. When he sniffed and could detect no other within range he turned to her, glancing her over and assessing her for the hundredth time in the past week. So much was riding on just one creature, a fire cat from hell albeit, but another person nonetheless and he was finding it hard to place trust in anyone’s ability other than his own. Deciding it would be her own fault if she got shot or left behind he leaned against the wall as well, dangling his strong legs over the edges while still twirling his weapon. “Vents,” he stated simply and her gaze became stormy and intense.

“So I proved that I can handle it?” she joked with a scoff, rubbing her side sorely. Riddick didn’t say anything and she groaned, shifting under his intense stare. “Go on then.”

“There is a weak point in the walls in my cell, where the vents were built too close to the prison area of the double max. It was a mistake in engineering and they supposed that no one would find out that it was there; obviously they didn’t account for me. Anyway, the vents lead upwards through a maze that I’ve already plotted out, some lead to dead ends and some to sleeping area for the guards of this level. But where we’re goin’ there’s a smaller area, too small for me to fit through, and just through that area is where the control center is located for this entire max. Ya got that Red?” he questioned stiffly, not wanting to allow any of this to go one ear and out the other. She fixed him with a rapt stare and nodded curtly to where her hair momentarily bounced before her face. The seriousness there was etched and deep, powerful and convincing to where he wondered what it would be like if she were to actually take him on seriously. He shuddered at the image of her ridding on top of him with that same smoldering look, his hands in her hair and her hips grinding to his.

Pushing passed the image that he was determined to make happen, and soon, he held up his shiv. It caught her attention and she watched the glittering make shift weapon with a puzzled glance. “Well, you’re gonna bust through the vent in the control room, take out the guards that are stationed there. All Slam’s have the same lay out of equipment, as sad as it is, and there should be a huge panel with all of the switches and whatever. You cut off the power to this level, shutting down the doors and locking them, and then cut off the lights. The emergency will kick in but it’ll be enough for me to work with. Then, you find a pulser, one of the idiots should have one, and bust a hole in the wall to get me through the rest of the way. We lower the elevator to the first floor of the rings and then we head up the hard way, by cord, got it?”

Again she nodded. He could see all of the information that he was telling her getting absorbed into her brain and stored into the most vital areas and he felt a small swell of pride at knowing he had chosen the right partner this time. She was one that would actually make it if nothing went wrong. “Yea got it. Then what?”

Riddick admired her for a moment before continuing. “Then, we head up on the elevator to the top floor where we’ll encounter, easily, over twenty guards no matter what. They will have found out about the break out by then but will be confused, we can use that to our advantage. We’ll hide on the bottom of the lift when it reaches the final floor and then when there are some guys on it…”

“Cut the support cords and send the thing plummeting to the ground and the aliens below,” George finished for him, her eyes sparking with the idea. Her mouth turned into a twisted smile that was mixed with hatred and joy at the same time.

Riddick raised an amused eyebrow at her nodded. Points for style, he thought with a small growl in his chest again. “Here’s the part that gets messy, girlie. You get shot, I leave you behind, you get thrown down or injured, I leave you behind. We only got one shot at this and I’m not staying behind for your ass, no matter how sexy is it is in those damn cargo’s. We ghost all the fuckers up there, kill the Warden, take the money, and get the ship that just came in, killing the remaining mercs aboard as well. I will leave you,” he said again for emphasis and he saw a flare of that same defiant anger in her eyes. She moved to argue with him but he held up his shiv and glared icily into her own orbs, his presence overpowering hers.

Finally she let out a grunt and looked away, snarling under her breath that he didn’t need to worry about her. With all of the details of the plan gone he pressed a hand onto her thigh and shifted to where he was hovering over her, his lips now dangerously close again. When all she did was stare at him, silently saying there was no room, he grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her up with one arm, causing the tough little hell cat to yelp and hit him in the arm. Riddick jumped down onto the platform below, his platform, and landed with a barely there thunk. The air was wrought with tension when he set her down and started to advance on her, his breath even but hot and anxious.

George sucked in a breath when her back was met with the wall, her teeth gnawing on her lower lip thoughtfully. Body caging hers in she felt her heart beat speed up to the point where she shifted to try and get the pain in her throat to go down. Head feeling slightly dizzy and drunk she curled her body up into his much larger one, her arms coming around his neck once more while her lips slit under his, anticipation hanging between them. He stopped moving abruptly though when she locked eyes with him that same hunger was there a slightly cocky smirk plastered onto his lips. She swore in her mind, realizing that in those few seconds of willingly giving into him she had lost their little game, but at this point didn’t care… She rose up and took his mouth savagely with hers as best she would with the height difference.

Riddick growled throatily at her, his hands coming to fist some of her red hair while the other pinned her shoulder to the wall as if to say that this time they were not going to be interrupted. He took control over the kiss soon enough and she pacified beneath him, almost liquefying onto his chest while his tongue explored her orifice heatedly. They had both denied themselves long enough damn it, for something as meaningless as sex. The male of the two pulled from his conquest, lashing his powerful tongue against her upper lip and causing her to elicit a moan of pleasure, her lips red and swollen from his possession. His head dipped slowly, biting and nipping along her jaw line and forcing her head to arch back, bearing her neck to him.

George shivered when his tongue ran up the front of her throat before his lips came down to nuzzle her neck, causing shockwaves of hot pleasure to jolt through her and pool heavily between her legs. Her mind was misting over and her eyes were half hooded, tired of waiting. His hands smoothed down her sides, running the palms over her muscular curves, and when they hit her hips they dipped down and settled upon her rear. She whimpered lightly at the touch, his fingers flexing in the soft yet firm muscle through the cargo’s she was still dressed in before squeezing them together, pulling her ass towards him and pressing his throbbing manhood against her stomach.

This caused George to feel a searing heat throb throughout her whole being, and with Riddick’s damn skilled mouth now sinking in steadily gruffer on her neck, marking her, sucking on the skin until she was sure it was bruised in the shape of his teeth and lips, as well as the feeling of his now rock hard organ pressing proudly against her she let out a flustered noise. She ran her fingers down his back through his damned tank top, pressing the pads into the hard plane eagerly. In a flash and a gasp she was up in the air, her thighs wrapped around his waist and her back pinned harder to the wall. She didn’t have time to think though before his mouth descended upon her breast through her shirt and bra, causing her to pant and grip at his bald head.

In this new position George could feel the tip of his cock through his pants, wanting, straining desperately to sink into her through each of their clothing. She grinded up against him causing him to let out a low glower from against her chest where his teeth were tugging at the fabric impatiently. “If you don’t get me naked right now Riddick I’m going to stab you,” George snarled, pulling at his tank top earnestly. She had wanted this for months and she would be damned if she let some stupid thing as clothing get in her damn way. She didn’t care if she had to cut the clothing off the fucker, she wanted him now.

“Fine,” was all he muttered against her chest, his head buried between her breasts. He dropped her down with a flop, her balance off center and causing her to stumble. Riddick however grabbed the bottom of her shirt and ripped it off of her and pulled out his shiv again, bringing it to her throat momentarily. All motion stopped from her and she stared at him with wary brown eyes, her mouth pursed in slight distrust. Her breasts heaved as the blade traced down her throat, leaving a silent trail of goose bumps and terrified skin behind him, though the fear radiating off of George was drowned out headily by her arousal and perfect scent… Her gaze never left the knife as it dropped down further and further, her breathing hitching in anticipation while the sharp edge threatened the coming fabric beautifully. The blood rushing to the surface around the blade caused her breast bone to flush a marvelous red when the shiv finally dipped between her breasts and began to fiddle with the edges of her bra, watching the dark fabric rise and fall with her harried breaths.

George didn’t dare to move. Though she now knew that Riddick needed her to get out of this place or else he would have to find another way and that would take too long that didn’t take away the fear and anxiety of having his weapon pressed so intimately to her flesh. She was twisted, she’d admit it, she’d be the first to tell you that she wasn’t exactly normal when it came to what she liked during sex; in fact she liked the feeling of the cool knife blade on her, liked how it was wickedly thin and powerful, able to cut anyone with a mere flick of the wrist. The power of his control of it was amazing and made her blink in awe of it, and when he started to graze against the hills of her chest, up against the cushions of her binding device, she sucked in a breath at the electric sensation it sent up her legs and jolt her core. Riddick knew what he was doing… and though that both scared her shitless it also forced her to trust him completely that he wouldn’t kill her during this encounter, something they needed for their up coming attempt.

His nose came to her ear and teeth grazed at the shell, causing her to inhale sharply, the knife making a small push to where it was dangerously close to breaking the skin. “You look nervous, Georgie,” he murmured huskily.

George found it hard not to out right laugh at him, realizing that the sudden move of her chest would ensure her damage. She shot him a slightly playful dirty look while a sneer crossed sardonically over her lips. “Wouldn’t you be if I was doing this to you, Baldy?” the blade stopped at the nickname she had dubbed him on the ship. She let her malicious grin grow wider at the narrowing of his perfect eyes and the pulling downward of his lip. She would have to ask him why he shaved his head…

Riddick merely bared his teeth in a momentary chuckle that was more of a show of power than a true humor, and his knife continued it’s trek upwards. It found the strap of the hated material and he pushed it under the dark fabric, watching with rapt attention as the sides of the support started to fray under the pressure. With a flick of his wrist the strap was gone and that side of the binding fell down, exposing her chest to his sight if only one of them. He growled again, moving the knife in the same fashion as that one side, and now had his eyes fixated on hers, peering at her reaction. When she gasped as the other strap was cut, the material falling uselessly from her breasts and hanging from its back clasp she licked her lips nervously, her breasts fully exposed. He pressed is calloused hands onto the sensitive skin and listened as she hissed and shut her eyes at the sudden burst of pleasure that went through her.

George felt her clasp undone and she was bared completely on top, her mouth painfully close to Riddick’s again while his fingers were ghosting over the softness of her chest. It had been so long… it had been so long since he had last been with a woman that had managed to get to him this way. Fry had, oh Fry had gotten under his skin to where he had resisted valiantly from plowing her into the ground several hundred times over their visit to that planet, but… she’d been ripped from him before he could do anything. He winced at the memory of her, having during that time when trying to coax her into the ship thought she could be the one that might calm him down, might solve the murderer in him. She had said she wouldn’t die for him… if she hadn’t said that, if she hadn’t jinxed it, then he was positive that she’d be alive and he would be having his way with her every single night. But as it stood it was George, this spit fire, which was arching into his touch that now had his burning mouth over her one of her peaks, groaning incoherently. The two were so different that it was baffling. The Furyan span George around and ran his hands down her stomach, enjoying the way that she leaned into him in acceptance, her own fingers finding his belt and undoing it deftly within a few seconds.

When his hands ripped off the button to her pants and pushed them down he let out a grateful murmur, staring at her naked backside, praising whatever god had it in for him that the red head didn’t believe in underwear. She stepped away from him and stood there with her hands on her hips, her brown gaze smoldering and her chest heaving from need. Riddick realized his was doing the same and promptly tore off his tank top before capturing her up again and pulling her up his body, to where her mouth was level with his. Claiming her mouth brashly once more his free hand undid his pants while at the same time pushing his boxers aside.

Within seconds he was sheathed in her dripping opening and she pulled away from his mouth and teeth to let out a breathless gasp, her back arching and her legs tightening around his waist. Her eyes closed tightly for a second and though he was enjoying the look on her face the shear tightness and heat that was engulfing him made him shiver and let out a hiss of his own, waiting for a second so that her opening could stretch to fit him within.

George gasped louder when he moved, withdrawing back until he was almost all the way out before slamming back in none too gently. She tossed her head to the side, clawing at his revealed, hard shoulders while an intense throbbing was starting to go throughout her entire core. She had known, oh god had she known that he would be like this, after all… he would have to be proportional since he was no small man. But geez she hadn’t felt anything like this in years! Her head was swimming, conscious thoughts hardly able to form besides one word over and over again, fuck, while he was now thrusting at a steady but harsh pace. She ran her fingers down his bald head before biting onto his lower lip hard before forcing her tongue into his mouth, shifting her hips to him.

Animalistic instinct led the way hard and fast. There was no gentle caresses, no whispered sweet words, nothing of affection and love, only the carnal and primitive need to have the body sated. They moved against each other, each one now starting to let out growls and hisses, biting, scratching at the other, while the battle went on. This was just another way for them to fight, she was sure of it as he slammed back into her full force, causing her body to convulse from their joining momentarily before she reigned in her limbs and drove her nails down his back harshly, to where she could feel the metallic substance run down his spine from her wounds. He pulled her hair back with one hand, the other having wrapped a firm arm around her to keep her in place so that he could continue his assault, before he bit down onto the center of her neck hard. His teeth, surprisingly sharp, bit through the skin and forced blood out into his mouth, causing the woman he was claiming to gasp and moan in a low and throaty manner.

Riddick lapped at the wound with vicious determination. His hips were now crashing recklessly into George, his silver eyes watching as she threw her head back and her face conformed into a wonderfully pained expression. Grunting he stopped when he was buried to the hilt in her, having to grit his teeth not to just start hammering away again, and she glared down at him with that same intensity that had first drawn the killer to her. When she opened her mouth to berate him he grinded there, moving her up and down, and when he found the right angle he knew it for she shut her eyes tightly and opened her mouth wide in a silent scream. Beautiful… he thought with a growl before angling his hips and began his relentless pursuit again, hitting that one spot he had been seeking out.

Her moans were turning into silent gasps, fingers digging into his shoulders while her body was tensing up. For a few seconds at a time she wouldn’t breath but held her breath and he couldn’t help but notice when she did she would become so much tighter… so much hotter. He could feel their combined juices running down both her thighs and starting to mix onto his, his organ that was now piercing and pushing at her rugged walls starting to twitch with excitement. He gazed at her face intently for a second, enamored with how she was now biting onto her lower lip as if trying not to show her weakness for what he was doing. Then he lowered his head and took one of her nipples into his mouth and pulled on it hard with his teeth. Her walls clenched so dreadfully at that and he felt his entire body jump with consuming heat, his entire back tensing up at the sudden constraint. God if this kept up she would die…

“This… doesn’t mean… anything,” Riddick growled at her from between powerful thrusts. Each push sent her up higher on the wall then dragging her back down and soon George’s back was raw from the shear force that was behind his attack.

Her back had turned boneless and her body by now was acting out things her mind wasn’t telling it to do, for her brain had turned to goo. Hips were thrashing back down onto him, impaling herself harder each time, and every time he went all the way in at that blinding pace he was now going at she would let out a quiet cry at the sensation. A few more hits on that one spot within her was enough to make the gradually building tide of molten pleasure surge up and then float away, biding its painful time as her body was soaring to new burning heights. It was maddening and when her fingers pulled his head away from her breast she slammed her mouth gruffly over his, looping her arms under his and using his massive body as the needed leverage she needed to equally his impossibly fast power. Finally, after another punishing blow, she pulled from him and her body went completely rigid, the only thing showing her complete elation that was ripping through her like a white hot comet, making her eyes fill with dizzying stars, was when she let out a small whimper like groan, gripping onto him for dear life.

Riddick grunted when her walls scrunched hard around his manhood, impossibly tight to where he couldn’t move. It was heaven, being sheathed in there, his vision blurring and his knees threatening to buckle, all the while she was now almost fluttering violently against his screaming organ, pulling it in deeper until it hit the edge of limit. Her limps clasped right around him but her middle was now thrashing around, back and forth, in a quiet display of panting satisfaction. He didn’t have a choice but to let out a quiet growl as he arched his back, his entire body clenching painfully, and he began the thankfully blissful process of spurting his seed into her willing body. He pulled back and started to hammer away, milking out every single frustrated drop from his achingly pleased body, listening to her pants and watching her eyes now stare helplessly up a the ceiling above them.

At last, with one final burst, her body calmed down and he stopped moving. They stood there, entwined, for a few seconds, breathless and wonderfully basking in the afterglow of a much needed session. Riddick waited until he was soft again to pull out and set her down on her feet, marveling at how her body was still heaving from exhausted pleasure, a small, true smile gracing her lips. He put his forehead to hers for a brief moment, inhaling her scent in the after affects of their joining and found himself almost purring at the odor that surrounded them. It had been so long since he had met with a woman that could make him lose control like that.

George was the first to pull away to his surprise, he’d been to pliable to just sit there and smell at their scents mingled together, sliding down her quivering thighs. She pushed him away before gathering her shirt and pulling it on over her shivering body, her movements sluggish and her fingers not quite up to speed with her brain. Next came the pants and he watched with grudging approval when at last the cargo’s came over her firm rear; at least this way temptation to fuck her again and again would be gone. Though there would be other times… there was still a few good weeks.

Riddick took his cue to pull up his pants and do his belt again, but left himself shirtless, the black tank gripped in his large hand. She turned to him with an appraising look and he knew that this was something so powerfully primal and urgent that neither could resist it again for long. When they had been together there had been an explosion, a tension that had filled the entire prison with its force, and when they had at once filled each other then there was nothing but the other person, nothing mattered in those moments. And it had been Eden in Hell for those brief moments. She nodded at him as she finally pulled on her boots that she had somehow kicked off during their foreplay, untying and then doing up the laces with a deft and skilled hand.

“Right… well,” her voice was firm but there was still the quake of orgasm thick within its cords. Riddick found himself bursting with an odd pride at having reduced her to such a state. Straightening out she smoothed back her curly hair from her sweat slicked face and stated simply, “this doesn’t go on beyond the prison. Once we’re out of here, and wherever we decide to go, we go our separate ways. This was just…”

“Relief from boredom,” Riddick finished for her. She flushed darkly but nodded, crossing her arms under her now braless chest. There would be no salvaging it and when she moved now he caught the bounce and jiggle of the purely female muscles. He walked by her and she didn’t so much as flinch but there was a rekindled excitement in the air that he would be all too willing to exploit later in the days and weeks to come. “The ship comes in two weeks. Be ready…” he commented, his voice thrumming deeply.

George nodded again and watched him vanish, shirtless and purely sculpted male, into the dark around her and she knew that she wouldn’t see him again until he damn well wanted to be seen. Sighing heavily she started off towards the water source, ready to wash off his scent though she secretly wanted to bathe in it for a while longer. This couldn’t get out of hand… like he had said; it was just relief from boredom. They were both adults, and as such they could participate in a sexual relationship if they wanted. But it wouldn’t go beyond that. Couldn’t go beyond that. She had a feeling that both she and Riddick did not even know how to begin anything that would remotely justify what explosion had taken place and was still bursting between the two convicts.