Bloody Hands, Burnt Skin, and Cigarettes
folder
M through R › Pitch Black
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
Views:
2,527
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
M through R › Pitch Black
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
Views:
2,527
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
I neither own anything from The Riddick Universe, nor do I profit from it. Although sometimes I wish I had Riddick all for myself. Har Har. Pandora is entirely my creation
Bloody Hands, Burnt Skin, and Cigarettes
**Author's Note: This takes place after Pitch Black, and Chronicles. This universe also accounts for some of the events in the Riddick video game, Escape from Butcher Bay. You guys shouldn't be lost if you never played it, but some jokes/side comments will make more sense if you kinda know about them.
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Prologue
She had really put her foot in it now. Pandora had a knack for finding herself in shitty situations--worse than shitty--situations that most normal living things would experience either unconscious from fear, dead, or avoid them all together.
But, the best thing about Pandora was that regardless of the situations in which she found herself, she was always able to get herself out of them. She was strong, apt enough at using her body as a weapon, both sexually and through fighting. Her physical sexuality and prowess, combined with her genius level intellect made her a formidable opponent even for men twice her size. She wasn't invincible, however. And the fact that she could be a fucking dim-wit testified to that. Her street smarts were instinctual, but spontaneous and she had a horrible memory, which left much of her long term memory as mere flashes in her brain brought to the surface only through her experiences in the present.
Her short term memory was better but disconnected. She could remember that the smell of a rotting corpse meant not edible and she could calculate just from the smell how long the meat had been dead. But, when it came time to actually find some fucking food she had a lot of trouble and relied on wandering and spontaneous acts to find sustenance. (Laying a trap was something she was theoretically capable of, but she would forget about it after she laid it and wander off to look for food elsewhere). The power of her mind was literally a labyrinth to her, one that she hadn't found the map too--yet.
On this particular occasion, her dimwitted choices landed her right in the middle of a turf war between mercs over some low-life prisoner they were trying to shackle, take off the planet where she had made her temporary home and escort to a slam. She over-heard them arguing about which slam would pay better and who should have the right to lay claim and take the killer to the slam.
"He's my fucking mark! I found him first!" A tall and skinny man who looked like he tried too hard to seem like a badass announced this with palms raised to the five others that stood around him.
"Gimme me a fucking break, Torin, first here doesn't mean shit given that you didn't do any of the work tracking the bastard! Do have any idea how long me and my two-man team have spent tracking this piece-of-shit to this fucking rock?" This guy was unusually short and stocky, but he had a long beard and cigar in his mouth that was chewed off and not lit. He at least looked like he could handle himself in a fight, despite his size. He wore a nicely sharpened, but ancient looking axe at his belt. His two man crew must be the male twins that stood right behind him with their arms crossed. They were stoic, slightly taller than the dwarf and both had pronounced scars on opposite eyes, making them oddly symmetrical and both blind in one eye.
The fifth one in the circle was a woman who smelled horrible--like a rotting corpse--and she didn't speak through the most of the ordeal. Was she afraid of the others? No, they seemed afraid of her, which was odd given her size and lack of weaponry. She looked the most out of place and the least merc-like. She wore a long leather dress and had long drawn out features like she hadn't slept in years. She also had two purple and bruised puncture marks on either side of her head.
Pandora moved closer as the Dwarf and his silent crew continued to haggle with the one called "Torin." She was curious and something in her cryptic mind told her that she should be nearby to hear the conversation. She hid behind a large tree that overlooked the clearing below where the group stood.
The Planet on which she made her temporary home was called Diabla. It was a hot, humid, and tropical jungle planet that boasted large insects, infectious diseases, and volcanic eruptions that made the landscape completely unpredictable, which is why there were few established settlements, human or otherwise. Pandora knew this wasn't her home-world, but she couldn't remember how or why she had ended up on this planet. She only knew she was alone and she knew how to live here, albeit not comfortably.
"Look, Torin, I understand that you have some fucking 'superior' hunting skills, but the hard work and experience of me and my guys can't be overlooked. In other words, we want to get fucking paid and I don't care what that bitch back there might have said about your cut, but from the looks of it, you haven't done shit to help!" The bitch he referred to must have been the walking corpse in the leather get-up, Pandora thought.
The bitch twitched and move foward with her eyes locked on the back of the little-man's skull. As she moved the twins sidestepped awkwardly and let her get close to their boss. Pussies. With surprising speed she surged forward and gripped the back of the dwarf's neck with two fingers. He crumbled to his knees under her touch. She was definitely not normal. Her eyes clouded over and turned completely black as she spoke. "Helmuth, you and your men will do as I say. Regardless of how it appears to you, Torin is valuable to the apprehension of this deserter. He is our prophet."
She learned closer to Helmuth and whispered into Helmuth's ear and the tough-seeming little man turned white as a sheet and bowed. "Yes, Mistress. We will do your bidding."
"Good." She turned her wrath to Torin and with her eyes still shaded in black she surged forward again, but this time she seemed to move faster than Pandora's eyes could track her, like a wraith. As she come to a stop uncomfortably close to Torin she gripped his balls in the same pinch grip she used on Helmuth. But Torin seemed oddly calm and almost aroused by it.
"Torin, find the deserter for us please."
"Yes, Mistress." Torin smirked and Pandora thought she could make out the faint smell of arousal between his legs in the form or pre-cum on his now smushed dick and balls. Torin sank to his knees and punched his fists into the ground with impossible strength. His fists seem to merge with the earth as his eyes rolled back into his skull. Pandora noticed that he also had two bruised puncture marks on either side of his neck.
"Riddick is this way." He said in a voice that didn't sound like his own but the whispers of many voices rolled into one. It was then that Torin detached his fists from the Earth and turned towards where Pandora stood behind the tree. The group followed his gaze and made their way up the embankment toward where she hid.
It was then that she really felt him.
Pandora felt the edge of a bone blade pressed to her neck as a large rugged palm make it's way up her inner-left thigh from behind. His voice was right in her ear. He smelled like sweat, blood, and sex, but also oddly familiar.
"Move, now little girl."
-------
Prologue
She had really put her foot in it now. Pandora had a knack for finding herself in shitty situations--worse than shitty--situations that most normal living things would experience either unconscious from fear, dead, or avoid them all together.
But, the best thing about Pandora was that regardless of the situations in which she found herself, she was always able to get herself out of them. She was strong, apt enough at using her body as a weapon, both sexually and through fighting. Her physical sexuality and prowess, combined with her genius level intellect made her a formidable opponent even for men twice her size. She wasn't invincible, however. And the fact that she could be a fucking dim-wit testified to that. Her street smarts were instinctual, but spontaneous and she had a horrible memory, which left much of her long term memory as mere flashes in her brain brought to the surface only through her experiences in the present.
Her short term memory was better but disconnected. She could remember that the smell of a rotting corpse meant not edible and she could calculate just from the smell how long the meat had been dead. But, when it came time to actually find some fucking food she had a lot of trouble and relied on wandering and spontaneous acts to find sustenance. (Laying a trap was something she was theoretically capable of, but she would forget about it after she laid it and wander off to look for food elsewhere). The power of her mind was literally a labyrinth to her, one that she hadn't found the map too--yet.
On this particular occasion, her dimwitted choices landed her right in the middle of a turf war between mercs over some low-life prisoner they were trying to shackle, take off the planet where she had made her temporary home and escort to a slam. She over-heard them arguing about which slam would pay better and who should have the right to lay claim and take the killer to the slam.
"He's my fucking mark! I found him first!" A tall and skinny man who looked like he tried too hard to seem like a badass announced this with palms raised to the five others that stood around him.
"Gimme me a fucking break, Torin, first here doesn't mean shit given that you didn't do any of the work tracking the bastard! Do have any idea how long me and my two-man team have spent tracking this piece-of-shit to this fucking rock?" This guy was unusually short and stocky, but he had a long beard and cigar in his mouth that was chewed off and not lit. He at least looked like he could handle himself in a fight, despite his size. He wore a nicely sharpened, but ancient looking axe at his belt. His two man crew must be the male twins that stood right behind him with their arms crossed. They were stoic, slightly taller than the dwarf and both had pronounced scars on opposite eyes, making them oddly symmetrical and both blind in one eye.
The fifth one in the circle was a woman who smelled horrible--like a rotting corpse--and she didn't speak through the most of the ordeal. Was she afraid of the others? No, they seemed afraid of her, which was odd given her size and lack of weaponry. She looked the most out of place and the least merc-like. She wore a long leather dress and had long drawn out features like she hadn't slept in years. She also had two purple and bruised puncture marks on either side of her head.
Pandora moved closer as the Dwarf and his silent crew continued to haggle with the one called "Torin." She was curious and something in her cryptic mind told her that she should be nearby to hear the conversation. She hid behind a large tree that overlooked the clearing below where the group stood.
The Planet on which she made her temporary home was called Diabla. It was a hot, humid, and tropical jungle planet that boasted large insects, infectious diseases, and volcanic eruptions that made the landscape completely unpredictable, which is why there were few established settlements, human or otherwise. Pandora knew this wasn't her home-world, but she couldn't remember how or why she had ended up on this planet. She only knew she was alone and she knew how to live here, albeit not comfortably.
"Look, Torin, I understand that you have some fucking 'superior' hunting skills, but the hard work and experience of me and my guys can't be overlooked. In other words, we want to get fucking paid and I don't care what that bitch back there might have said about your cut, but from the looks of it, you haven't done shit to help!" The bitch he referred to must have been the walking corpse in the leather get-up, Pandora thought.
The bitch twitched and move foward with her eyes locked on the back of the little-man's skull. As she moved the twins sidestepped awkwardly and let her get close to their boss. Pussies. With surprising speed she surged forward and gripped the back of the dwarf's neck with two fingers. He crumbled to his knees under her touch. She was definitely not normal. Her eyes clouded over and turned completely black as she spoke. "Helmuth, you and your men will do as I say. Regardless of how it appears to you, Torin is valuable to the apprehension of this deserter. He is our prophet."
She learned closer to Helmuth and whispered into Helmuth's ear and the tough-seeming little man turned white as a sheet and bowed. "Yes, Mistress. We will do your bidding."
"Good." She turned her wrath to Torin and with her eyes still shaded in black she surged forward again, but this time she seemed to move faster than Pandora's eyes could track her, like a wraith. As she come to a stop uncomfortably close to Torin she gripped his balls in the same pinch grip she used on Helmuth. But Torin seemed oddly calm and almost aroused by it.
"Torin, find the deserter for us please."
"Yes, Mistress." Torin smirked and Pandora thought she could make out the faint smell of arousal between his legs in the form or pre-cum on his now smushed dick and balls. Torin sank to his knees and punched his fists into the ground with impossible strength. His fists seem to merge with the earth as his eyes rolled back into his skull. Pandora noticed that he also had two bruised puncture marks on either side of his neck.
"Riddick is this way." He said in a voice that didn't sound like his own but the whispers of many voices rolled into one. It was then that Torin detached his fists from the Earth and turned towards where Pandora stood behind the tree. The group followed his gaze and made their way up the embankment toward where she hid.
It was then that she really felt him.
Pandora felt the edge of a bone blade pressed to her neck as a large rugged palm make it's way up her inner-left thigh from behind. His voice was right in her ear. He smelled like sweat, blood, and sex, but also oddly familiar.
"Move, now little girl."