The First Option

Riddick stood over the body, his unnatural gaze watching the blood pump in an ever-slowing fount from the gash below his victim's chin. His senses were on full alert. His mind was so well tuned that he felt as if it was actually leaving his body, reaching out to search his surroundings. He could no longer remember a time when he hadn't been this strong, this capable, this predatory. He didn't remember these abilities developing. They were just a part of him. Survival. Only one simple word, but it was everything in his world.

In his mind it wasn't even survival anymore. At least not consciously. He didn't put a name on the instinct that caused him to strike out at any movement he saw as a threat. He knew it had a name, but didn't romance it. It was just a way of life, a way to make it to the next day. Was pride a part of it? Doubtful. He wasn't proud of what he was, but he accepted it, used it. He knew he was good, his continued living indicated that. He'd always been good at it, as if it came naturally.

He hadn't always been so powerful. No, he'd been broken. Beaten and abused, starved and raped, bled and tortured until he was a bruised and bloody slobbering mass of submission. He'd been in the lowest pits of hell the universe could conjure and he'd survived. There was nothing else to do, but to continue to survive.

Killing was a way to do just that. When he had been younger it seemed the cruelties only stopped when he killed, until the next time. It had seemed a sadistic cycle. Beatings. Kill. Run. Capture. Slam had been more of the same. The torture had been worse than any foster parent could have ever invented. He'd killed to escape Slam. The same guards that had enjoyed beating him ruthlessly fell beneath his fashioned blade. There was no way to cleanse his worthless soul, but it always seemed a little more worthwhile to kill the killers.

There was no emotion linked to it anymore, except maybe relief. He was relieved to still be free, and alive. He didn't feel remorse for killing to survive. Now that he was strong enough, the killers came looking for him, guised as mercs or cops, but killers just the same. Each time he was given a choice: kill or die. He always chose the first option. No regrets, no emotion, just doing what he had to.

So when he felt the merc trailing him, there was no thought required to conceal himself in the dark alley and wait. His shined eyes were closed to slits, to not give him away. The man that appeared, gun raised in the classic defensive stance, was easily recognizable. William Lawrence Johns. Riddick actually smiled. So he was rating high enough now to get the big guns to hunt him. He knew his escape from Butcher Bay would boost his reputation, but it still felt like a bar had been reached for Johns here to be hunting him.

He stood against the cold brick wall and watched as the uniformed man moved to within feet of him. He could see and smell the sweat on the nervous merc. The smile on his lips turned to a sneer as he deciphered the scents coming to him. Sick fucking junkie. He could smell the drugs oozing from the man's pores, could smell the adrenaline barely covering the unmistakable scent of fear, and he could smell the man's arousal. How interesting.

Johns' eyes darted back and forth as he crept forward, now moving past Riddick's hiding place. The trembling of his hands ruined the severity of his hard grip on the gun that preceded each sure-footed step.

One quick motion brought Riddick's shiv into his hand, the motion continuous, not stopping until he gracefully lunged at Johns. Blood spilled, but not the dark thick blood that would indicate death. Only a trickle slicked the blade that was held to the merc's throat. The muscles beneath the razor edge working as the man digested this turn of events were causing it to do even more damage.

Riddick was probably as surprised as the merc. He'd intended to kill, still did, but the blade had seemed to stop of its own accord. The scent of fear and arousal came to him, as strong as the smell of blood that was freshly leaking from Johns' throat. He was surprised to feel his own arousal. And then, once the stirring of his body had put the unbidden thoughts into his head, he knew why the merc wasn't dead.

He might not enjoy the necessity of killing, might not care about the loss of a life at all, but control was something that he craved. To have this bounty hunter, one of the best of the best as far as any law enforcement was concerned, at his disposal was a heady sensation.

"Hello, Johns." His voice sounded rough with his climbing arousal, the smell of the merc's skin and fear and excitement causing him to grow painfully hard. "Ready to play the game my way?"

His free hand reached down and pulled the retracted billyclub from its holster at Johns' waist. A direct below of the blunt handle to the merc's skull sent him down into a defenseless heap.

Riddick secreted his prize away. He wanted time. The merc's fate would be the same. He had come to hunt him. The only option left Riddick was to kill him. But until then . . . mmmm, until then.

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Riddick stood, legs spread for balance, chest bare, pants undone, looking at the trophy he had every intention of mounting.

He almost wanted to laugh with the absurdity of what he was doing. Who would have ever thought he would be turned on by a man, a powerful man, helpless and at his mercy? He could just imagine the psych fuckers at Slam digging his head apart over this. His intentions made him look at things in a different light. He'd always liked women, never even thinking of men in a sexual way. But this was different. It wasn't attraction that made him want to fuck the merc.

His dick didn't care. It was hard for whatever hole he had to sink it into. Whatever reasons motivated him didn't affect its willingness to participate.

Johns was still out, the hit on the head had obviously induced the blue-eyed devil to catch up on some much needed sleep. He was still unaware that he'd been stripped and laid across a table like it was a sacrificial altar, his own cuffs securing him. It had been a bit of fun for Riddick to chain the merc with the restraints intended for him.

Riddick continued to casually stroke his cock. He didn't know how long the merc would sleep, but he wasn't going to get started until the bounty hunter was completely aware of what was happening to him . . . and who was doing it.

Finally the merc started to come around. The sweating alerted Riddick first. He could smell the hot salty odor of the merc's need for a fix. By the time he was fully awake he was trembling as well as sweating by the bucket. Though Riddick figured his current predicament might be causing some discomfort as well.

Johns' hands were cuffed before him, his arms stretched out across the wide table where another set of cuffs chained him to the leg of the table. With a bit of squirming he would be able to move, slide far enough to one side so he could get beside the table and stand on his own, possibly even free himself. But as he was he was helpless.

"Riddick, I didn't know you were a fag." His smart-ass comment in that droll voice couldn't disguise the sound of his fear. It seemed the merc wasn't thrilled about waking up naked in the company of a convicted murderer.

Riddick stepped up behind the restrained merc, pressing his body against his, the obvious contact of flesh on flesh making the wanna-be cop struggle. "You'd better shut that mouth, unless you want something in it," Riddick murmured in a rough voice, enjoying seeing Johns' resistance.

Johns' heavy breathing cut off with a snap as he closed his mouth.

Riddick still hadn't removed his pants, not wanting to be caught literally with his pants down, but he'd dropped them, letting them fall to his knees. His bare thighs rubbing against the merc's equally bare thighs had the helpless man squirming. Riddick just watched, his fist absently pumping his erection into full life. When it became obvious to the merc that it was pointless to struggle, he stilled, tensed and rigid.

The ass held tight together before him caused his erection to harden fully with nearly painful suddenness.

Johns might be trying to keep one hole closed, but he had no qualms about the other. "So your big dumb ugly ass can't get any women? That's pretty sad, Dicky."

Riddick lay across the body bent over the table. His pulsing cock rested perfectly into the shallow valley of Johns' crack. His chest covered Johns' back, and both men took a quick breath at the feel of the others heat.

Johns had kept his head facing away from Riddick, apparently holding onto what little dignity he might have left. But the heat of Riddick's breath caused him to turn his head slightly, by instinct or not, he offered that little bit to his rapist.

Riddick lapped his tongue across the ear presented to him, feeling Johns stiffen beneath him. He only turned his head away when Riddick finished tasting him.

"I've never fucked a man," Riddick told him, not really knowing why. "Did you want to give me some pointers?"

Johns remained silent.

The feel of the hard muscled back beneath him was more intimate than Riddick could have guessed it would be. In a moment of longing, or just plain old lust, he slid his mouth along the flexing muscles of the merc's back. He bit softly at the smooth expanse of skin before him, his tongue lapping at the warm flesh. His hands slowly dragged down Johns' bare sides, settling finally at the narrow hips beneath his.

His mouth worked lower, nipping and tasting the man before him. Any disapproval his mind formed over his actions was ignored in preference of just enjoying the unexpected novelty of this encounter. His lips reached Johns' waist, teeth grazing skin, and finally the merc responded. He groaned softly.

Riddick stilled at the low throaty sound of unmistakable pleasure. He lifted his head to look up at the pale expanse of skin.

With slow deliberate movement that made the merc jerk and struggle against his advancing hand, he slid one hand between the man and the table. His fingers found what he knew they would and Johns groaned again when he wrapped his hand around the thick erection that had formed, involuntary or not.

"Well, Johns, what is this?"

"Fuck you, Riddick!" His angry retort was a little breathless at the end as Riddick began to stroke his hand up the merc's throbbing length.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Riddick didn't expect an answer, and didn't get one. With one hand bent beneath the merc to grip his partner's erection, he stood and used his other hand to line himself up with the intended target.

Johns was being uncooperative. His ass cheeks were clamped together so tight there was no way through. Riddick smiled at the vain attempt and released his hold on Johns' cock so he could use both hands to spread the merc out.

With thumbs digging into the tight muscles of Johns' ass to spread him enough, he nudged the head of his cock against the exposed dark puckered hole.

Johns' voice was barely a whisper, "Spit on me at least."

Riddick's head jerked up from watching what he was doing, or about to do. He hadn't expected this. Fighting, struggling, cursing him to the very end, but not acceptance, and definitely not submission. It took him a moment to grasp the change of circumstances. "Relax then."

Johns complied immediately. His position bent over the table left the tight clenched hole of his ass exposed when he relaxed. Riddick kicked Johns' legs further apart. Only one hand was needed to hold the man open far enough to see him completely. Leaning closer he let the saliva drip from his mouth and into the spread crack before him. Johns tensed momentarily, but then relaxed as the warm fluid ran down.

With his eyes intently on what he was doing, an unanticipated curiosity making him move slowly, Riddick slid one finger down the meagerly furred crevice until his fingertip rested against the scrunched hole. Johns groaned again as he pressed his finger in, the tight ring of muscle giving him grudging access. He slid his finger into the unexpectedly tight opening only an inch or so before pulling it out and starting the process over. Spitting again he eased his finger in, feeling the benefit of the added lube, and slid his finger into the hot depths as far as it would go.

Johns' ragged breathing was interrupted by a slow groan that nearly sounded like he was in pain.

"Does it hurt?"

Riddick didn't know why he was asking. He really didn't care if it did. Johns shook his head.

"It'll hurt when I fuck you though." It was just a statement, not even a realization. He had intended to fuck Johns, hoping to cause pain even. His thoughts had centered on making the man bleed, and he figured that's exactly what would happen.

He stroked his finger into Johns' tight opening several more times and then pulled free. He had to practically lift Johns' hips to gain access to him, but in the end his hand closed around the man's erection. It was still as hard as steel.

Dripping more saliva into the open crack of Johns' ass he used his free hand to spread the lubricant with the head of his dick. Johns tensed again, straining, the muscles of his back and arms working as he tried to free himself before the inevitable could happen.

Riddick settled a hand on the man's ass, holding him in place, and then gave a sharp thrust forward. The muscle of Johns' ass barely gave at the last moment to allow him inside.

"Ah, fuuuuuckk!!!" Johns yelled as he began to struggle at the substantial intrusion.

In that state of curiosity over vengeance, Riddick remained still inside the tight clenching hole, marveling at the pressure of the muscles trying to eject him. His hand stroked Johns' cock slowly, almost gently as he waited for the struggling and curses to cease.

Johns' string of swearing quieted into just heavy breathing. He slowly stopped struggling against the thickness buried in his ass, though he still remained rigid.

Riddick dripped more saliva into the crack before him, which was spread abnormally wide now, his thick cock disappearing into the stretched hole. The spit oozed down to wet his dick and he jerked at Johns' cock suddenly, making the man gasp with the unexpected pleasure. In that moment of slight relaxation he thrust deeper inside, burying himself to about the halfway point.

Johns yelled again.

Riddick released his grip on the drooling cock and held Johns' hips with both hands. Johns' ass was so tight he couldn't have gone further if he tried, so he pulled back. Using his hands to hold Johns in place he set up a rhythm of rocking his hips back and forth, slowly sliding his dick inside the hot tunnel.

Johns continued to curse between groans of pain, or pleasure.

Minutes passed with Riddick making only the slightest progress deeper. He was becoming impatient, his dick aching for something more substantial than the ineffectively short strokes he was getting. With a growl of frustration he kicked Johns' legs apart further, grabbed the silky gold hair in one hand, pulling the merc's head back with a startled yelp, and then plunged deeper. The table worked to keep Johns pinned and he sank in to the hilt. Johns howled in pain and then was cursing Riddick as the dick buried in him started thrusting deep and hard.

Riddick released Johns' hair to grip his hips and pump into the ass that was now fully his.

Johns continued to grunt and groan in time with his thrusts. The man's ragged breathing interested him. The more he filled the merc's ass the more his breathing quickened.

"You like a good fuckin', don'tcha, Johns?" Riddick bit out.

"Fuck you, Riddick."

Riddick slid his hand beneath the merc again to pump the still hard cock that called Johns a liar. After only a few moments Johns gave a loud groan of denial. His body took up the rhythm that Riddick had set with both hips and hand. The merc pressed back into the penetration before forcing his dick into the tight fist that held it.

"Oh, yeah, you're lovin' this, pretty boy. You gonna cum for me, Johns?" Riddick's words were broken, each syllable punctuated by a brutal thrust of his hips.

Riddick's ass was burning, the muscles heating from the fucking he was giving Johns. His one arm bulged in the effort to support him above the compliant body beneath him, the hand stroking Johns doing nothing to bear his weight. Both of them were covered in sweat, dripping on each other or soaking into the table, as they strained against each other.

Johns groaned low, then was cursing, "Ah, fuck. No."

Riddick felt what had distressed the merc. Johns' dick hardened even further, his limited movement becoming even quicker, his guttural groans deepening.

Riddick chuckled, thumping his hips into Johns' ass even harder and faster, making the merc groan loud again.

"Oh, yeah, cum for me, Johns. You love it in the ass, don'tcha? Come on, you little whore, cum for me." Riddick growled his taunts practically into Johns' ear as he leaned over the man.

As if by request Johns bucked beneath him, his erratic motions stopping altogether as he strained with his orgasm. Riddick stroked the hot cream from Johns, the sticky fluid covering his hand as he continued to pump the man. Then he was shoving deep into Johns. Johns hollered at the ill-treatment as Riddick forced himself deeper, barely pulling back to slam down again as fast as possible.

His release came with a shuddering suddenness. He growled as he ground his hips into the hot muscles clenching at him from within. Johns groaned painfully as Riddick circled his hips, straining to get deeper. Then he dumped his scalding load into Johns' receptive bowels.

As the tension drained from Riddick he held himself on trembling arms above the man he'd just raped. Johns lay completely still, his breathing the only movement.

Slowly Riddick lowered himself, causing them both to groan as his semi-erect cock slid within Johns. His mouth touched down on the merc's shoulder and he licked at the salty sweat there before sinking his teeth in just short of drawing blood. Johns barely reacted, a deeper breath and a tightening of his muscles was the only response he got.

"You gonna be my little bitch now?" Riddick taunted, wanting to see how subdued the overpowered Johns would be.

"Fuck you," came the hoarse response, though it was lacking the hatred-filled conviction of just minutes before.

Riddick stood, the loss of contact with the sweaty man causing more of an impression than he liked. What was he supposed to get romantic with the man now? He chuckled at the absurdity. The chuckle turned into a groan as his softening erection slowly slid from the grip of the man's ass. Hot fluid rushed around him as he pulled out. Semen and saliva were mixed with blood to cause a flood of juices. Johns groaned low at the withdrawal as well, making Riddick smirk.

He didn't bother cleaning himself, but just pulled his pants up and buttoned them slowly. Blood ran down the inside of the merc's thighs and Johns' once tight hole was stained red and was visibly open, still stretched from his use. That strange curiosity assailed him and he slowly slid his finger into the gaping hole, slick with their combined fluids. His finger slid in easily, barely touching either side, but Johns still groaned low at the penetration.

"Are you done, Riddick, or are you going to have another go?" Johns sneered over his shoulder.

"Hmmm, I guess I could if you're still needin' it."

"Fuck you," was growled at him, the anger returning to the merc's voice.

Riddick was getting tired of hearing those two words. He almost sighed as he removed his finger from Johns and wiped his hand on his pants.

Circling the table, he picked up his discarded shirt and two of his shivs. Once he was ready to leave he turned to stare at the blue eyes narrowed at him.

"It's been fun, but I guess you knew it wasn't meant to be." Riddick smirked as he squatted to release the chain holding Johns' cuffs to the table. Their eyes never wavered from each other's as they both slowly rose. It was obvious that Johns was in pain, either from his abused sphincter or from the returning feeling to his numb shoulders and arms.

Riddick slowly circled the table, approaching Johns carefully and Johns turned, not allowing Riddick to get behind him. They faced off for long minutes, but Riddick couldn't allow Johns to recover for too long. With sudden lightning speed he grabbed the chain connecting Johns' wrists. Johns' eyes widened for one moment and then he seemed to sigh in defeat, though he remained poised for some sort of defense.

Riddick couldn't help smiling at the merc. He pulled downward on the restraints, keeping Johns' arms immobile. His free hand pulled a shiv, palming it fluidly. With his eyes still locked with Johns' he smiled, "Goodbye."

Johns saw the blade at the same moment Riddick swung it in an arc. His struggles came too late. Hot blood spilled across Riddick's hand in that sweet familiar way. Johns gave a throaty cry that turned garbled as his body began to slump forward. Riddick released him and stepped back. After slowly cleaning the blade and sliding it back into the sheath he simply turned and walked out, leaving the body for the rats.

He'd thought the kill was clean.

It hadn't been.

Johns had found him again. If he weren't so pissed at being caught he'd have applauded the strung out merc for his luck and tenacity.

The merc's taunt at one time about Riddick fucking women came back to haunt him. He rarely dropped his guard enough to buy himself a quick fuck, and the reason for that was never more obvious than when he did. It only took moments to lose that control, and his freedom. But he was patient. And Johns stank.

Oh, he showered, smelled pretty for the ladies who admired him in his snappy little uniform leading his trussed prisoner, but that smell was there. Riddick could nearly taste the drugs oozing from the man. The first time he'd encountered Johns' the smell had been mild, a tiny hint. Now it was pungent. In the eight months since he'd raped the merc and left him to die, the merc had fallen into the habit bad.

The ship crashing had almost made Riddick want to laugh at Johns' predicament. He watched with amusement as the merc struggled to take some sort of control of the pathetic group. He truly admired that little captain for standing up to Johns, though she could barely see past the shiny badge.

The kid was different. She was fooling them all with her claim at being a boy, and he had silently laughed at all their naïveté. Even Johns was taken in. Fool. Stifling hot and the kid had been wearing three layers of clothes. It was just a damn laugh.

He'd been amused by Johns' releasing him. Did the fucking merc actually think he'd believe he'd let him go? Then those wonderful killing machines had emerged from their underground lairs. Johns had cowered right along with the rest of them. Except that damn captain.

Bitch had some balls on her. She'd been in that hole, she knew what they were up against, but she was the only one who hadn't wanted to sit and wait it out.

And they'd all needed him. He might have spent some time thinking of the psychological implications if he weren't having so much fun seeing how many circles he could lead them in out in that desert. The kid bleeding was like sonar to the hungry flying fuckers and the other stragglers were all ignorant of it.

Killing Johns, or at least watching the bastard die, had been a high point. Stupid fucker had thought to defy him. It was inevitable that he die, and Riddick had been more than eager to accept the assistance of the nasty flying beasts.

Then they were all like lambs to the slaughter. He had considered leaving them. Hell, he had the cells, but the kid and the captain were intriguing to him. The kid especially. He knew the captain was only looking at survival, and if she had to lean on Big Evil for a little bit to do it, then that was just okay. But the kid... He didn’t quite know what to think of that kid. Wanting to be around him, and mimicking him. That shit was throwing him off a bit.

He'd let the captain, Fry, yeah, that was her name. He let her convince him to go back for the other two. He only half-assed wanted to, just to see how many of them would be left. It had been like a game to him, and he needed to play that final hand to see what he'd get.

Left, that's what he had gotten. What the fuck had possessed him to push them on and stay back to draw the beasts off of them? That bitch's little speech about his humanity must have gotten to him worse than he thought. Her coming back for him had been a shock. He'd have made it on his own, he was sure, but her coming out there for him had rocked him some. He guessed she was still feeling guilty for trying to dump them all to save her ass or something. Stupid bitch went and pissed him off with her little comment of not agreeing to die for him. Like he'd fucking asked her to. He hadn't asked her for shit. Then her smart mouth got her in trouble, cause she got exactly what she had said she wouldn't.

The kid had made it though. That interested him. The littlest one had made it through. Oh, they'd all helped her, rescued her, saved her, and damn near pampered her, but it had worked out for her.

The holy man was a joke. Yeah, you keep praying, stupid fucker, see where it gets ya. It's done real good for ya so far. He wanted to just roar with laughter at the narrow-minded fool. Course, he'd made it alive. Fuck the rest of the little grovelers, but he'd made it.

The kid was about goo-goo over him after they made it off planet. Yeah, Richard B. Riddick died on that planet, kid, and don't you fucking forget it. He'd told them what to say, and they'd done it. The fools trusted him. Hell, he'd come back for them and gotten them off the nasty old planet. Yeah, whatever. He didn't care who got off with him as long as he got off.

The holy man took off for his precious New Mecca the first chance he got. Left him with the kid. What the hell was he supposed to do with a silly little kid? So he dumped her.

He'd been nice about it. 'Yeah, I'll visit.' 'Yeah, we'll keep in touch.' It wasn't his fault that she'd actually believed that shit. How the fuck was he supposed to visit some girls' school when he was a hunted man? Might as well paint a target on him and send invitations.

She might have been pissy over his leaving her there, but she obviously took advantage of his generosity. He might be on the run, but he wasn't poor. So he'd set her up, full tuition, room and board. It was as close as he ever came to acting on a so-called conscience.

Years went by. He never really thought about that kid. Why would he? He'd washed his hands, he had bigger things to worry about. He disappeared for a while. Speculation had it that ol' Riddick was dead. Died on some planet in some nasty crash. Kid stuck to her story, he had to give it to her. She never narced him out.

Till someone recognized him. Then he was on the run again. Hunted again. Though in his mind there was never actually any danger. Kill or be killed. He always chose the first option.

He was on some pisshole little planet that saw more black rain than sun, which was how he liked it. Felt that tingle, smelled that scent. He was being followed. Led the would-be hunter on a merry little chase. Hell, he almost skipped he was having so much fun.

He got into position, finally, bringing the game to an end. He was surprised to see it was a woman following him. Gun held low, badge shining in his altered vision. They didn't let too many women be mercs, hard on 'em, them being so much smaller than their prey.

He scented her. Women smelled good, and he always enjoyed just smelling them. No fear. That surprised him. Did she even know who she was following?

She did.

Shined eyes flashed up to meet his, surprising him. But it was too late. He couldn't stop the sweep of the shiv. It was a fluid motion, one practiced and executed innumerable times.

"Riddick." She whispered his name at that same moment as the shiv met flesh. The same moment he recognized her.

Shined eyes stared up at him. Her full lips held the hint of a smile even in death. She had become beautiful, or had been anyway. Watching the blood pump from what had once been her throat he felt his body stir. The idolizing girl from years before had grown.

Now he stood over her body, his unnatural gaze watching the blood pump in an ever slowing fount from the gash below her chin, the cut deep enough to show bone.

He glanced up and down the alley for long moments, his ears penetrating the silence for any new sounds and finding nothing. With a final look around he reached down and tore the cloth of her uniform away. She was built, smooth skin over toned muscles. It took him only a few more seconds to free his raging erection, drop to his knees between her wantonly spread legs and bury himself inside her.

He groaned at the fiery heat that met his thrust. Her tight passageway was just damp enough to allow him entry. The continued friction of his thrusts caused more juices to slicken her, aiding his progress.

Leaning over her, seeing her head tilted back at a grotesque angle, gave him a view of his handy work. His hips continued to work, pumping his cock rhythmically into her body, and his head dropped. Her blood was hot and fresh and the first taste was better than the raping of her tight hole. He groaned again, the salty warmth making him nearly climax immediately. His dick continued to hammer her body, feeling the tight muscles of her body tighten on him in a nearly LIVE way. His face buried into the crevice his shiv had opened. A rough edge of bone scratched at his face as he drank from her, not breathing, just savoring her sweet young body in every way he could.

He came with an inhuman growl. His lips sucked at her flesh, seeking every drop, swallowing the occasional chunk of flesh without bothering to chew. His ass tightened as he forced himself deeper into her cooling body, his cum spilling into her in harmless spurts.

Licking his lips, he stood from her, wet with her blood and his own juices. He instinctively checked the alley, though the thundering of his own heart was all he could hear. A scrap of her ruined uniform worked to clean his face, then he stood over her and waited for his body to calm, slowly tucking himself back into his pants as he waited.

Finally, certain he was still alone, he unceremoniously grabbed her by the ankle and dragged her further into the alley. A manhole cover lifted easily, and he held it open while he used one foot to kick her lifeless body into the pitch-black darkness below. A small splash and a meaty thump met his ears.

Didn't want her found till she'd rotted a bit. With his cum in her she could testify against him even in death.

Riddick stood over the manhole cover, looking down at the unnaturally angled limbs in darkness so deep even his eyes had trouble seeing her. He'd never really wondered what happened to that kid, but now he knew. She'd come looking for him. And she'd found him. The idea of his 'humanity' came to him, as he remembered the events of the past. Was he human?

Fucking doubtful.


The End . . .