Riddfick - Hurt, Chapter 1/?
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it ain't mine.
Title: Hurt
Chapter: How Much is that Geisha in the Window?, 1/?
Word Count: 1,929
Genre: Angst/Drama
Rating: M for adult themes. Nothing too strong in this chap, though.
Summary: Post PB. Jack signs up with mercs after Riddick breaks his promise to her, and gets sold into slavery. And Riddick goes to save her, but is he too late?
It never failed to amaze Riddick that there was a ‘Chinatown’ on every planet; and apparently, Caligula was no different.
He fended off various vendors and pimps as he maneuvered his way through the red light district. He already knew what he wanted, and where he could get it. If his intel was right, that is.
Ten months he’d been looking for her, and his searching had finally brought him to this God-forsaken place.
He stopped at rundown building, its harsh neon lights only accentuating the peeling paint and water damage.
The Him-A-Laya the sign read. It seemed like every Chinatown had one of those, too. Riddick did a quick scan of the building, looking for the security cameras and any possible alarm trips.
Satisfied that he’d located them all, he turned his attention to the girls on display in the windows. The glass had that special two-way tint, so the customers could see them, but they couldn’t see the customers.
There were only two rooms for display, but each room had at least four women in it. Most of them were touching themselves provocatively, and moving seductively to a song he couldn’t hear.
Riddick ignored their writhing bodies and come hither stares as he searched for the object of his quest. His eyes ran over each individual girl as he looked for the one who had never ceased to be a thorn in his side. Not finding her in the first display, he moved on to the second one.
Bingo.
There she was, reclining on a stained couch, wearing nothing more than a glorified bra and an ankle length skirt with a slit all the way up to her thigh. He had ceased being able to see in color years ago, but if he had to guess, the outfit was red.
Her eyes were closed, her mouth was parted, and her hair was fanned out around her. She’d changed a lot since he’d last seen her, but even without seeing the shimmering jade of her eyes, he knew it was her.
He stepped away from the window and moved to the door. It was time to put his plan into action.
His nose was assaulted with the scents of sex, incense, and unwashed bodies as he entered the shop; and cheesy, generic, Asian-styled music filled the air. He almost sneered at it.
The tinkling of the bell above the door alerted the clerk that a customer had come in. “I be right with you,” a heavily accented voice came from the back.
Riddick traced the outline of his shiv with his thumb as he waited for the clerk, and tried no to think of how lifeless she had looked through the glass.
“Welcome, welcome” the fleshmonger said as he stepped out of the back room and pulled the napkin he’d been using as a bib from his shirt.
“I am Meng Fan, how can I help you today? Would you like to see a menu?”
Riddick bristled, but kept his voice even as he spoke. “How much is that geisha in the window, the one with the long, dark hair?”
Meng Fan smiled with understanding. “The one on the sofa?” Riddick nodded. “Ah, Lola. Sir has excellent taste. She is normally 500, but I like the look of you, so you can have her for 400.”
“That’s an awfully high price for just a few hours. Is she really worth it?”
“Of course she is!” his chest puffed out with indignation. “Are you implying that I would try to cheat an honorable man such as yourself?”
Riddick’s smile was meant to be reassuring, but it came across as predatory. “My apologies, Meng. But why don’t you bring her out here so I can look her over before I make a decision.”
Not wanting to miss out on a sale, he agreed; and Riddick watched as the ‘Chinaman’ unlocked the door and disappeared into the display room.
He exited shortly after, pulling her out on a leash. Riddick’s blood had been simmering before, and it was all but boiling now. He knew how it felt to be bound and treated like an animal. It was a feeling he would have spared her.
Grinning proudly, Meng Fan brought her over to Riddick and handed the leash to him. The whole time ‘Lola’ hadn’t spoken a word or given any indication that she was aware of what was happening.
She stopped when her keeper did, and stood before Riddick with her head tilted down and her arms hanging limply at her sides. “There you are sir,” the peddler spoke. “See for yourself if she is truly worth the price.”
Riddick started to circle ‘Lola’, as if he was appraising her; the leash wrapping itself around her torso like a maypole as he moved. Stopping in front of her, he tilted her face up, but her eyes remained closed. “Open your eyes,” he commanded.
She opened them slowly to reveal a blank expression and dilated pupils. “She’s drugged.”
Meng Fan shrugged, “Sometimes it is necessary to calm her down. But I assure you, it won’t affect her performance in the least. I guarantee it.”
“I’m sure you do,” Riddick growled, his eyes from behind his goggles never leaving the girl in front of him. In a softer tone he spoke to her. “Close your eyes.”
She languidly closed her lids, and he turned around to face the proprietor of the sex shop.
“So do we have a deal?” he asked expectantly.
“No, we don’t,” Riddick answered. And before the storeowner could ask why, Riddick lunged forward and slit his throat.
The proprietor collapsed to the floor, his life-force spurting out of the gash in his neck and turning everything it touched a deeper shade of red. From the floor, he stared up at his killer with wide, questioning eyes.
“I’d like to say this isn’t personal, but I’d be lying. And if there’s one thing I’m not, it’s a liar,” Riddick said as he crouched down and wiped his blade on the dying man’s clothes.
Once he was satisfied the fleshmonger was dead, he stood back up and walked back over to the girl.
“You can open your eyes now,” he told her, but she only screwed them up tighter. He frowned ever so slightly and took a deep breath. “I’m going to take the collar off now, okay.”
She didn’t say anything, and he was beginning to wonder if she could understand him at all. He brought his hands up very slowly, and carefully removed her mark of bondage. She flinched a little at his touch, but otherwise didn’t react.
“Stay here and don’t move. I’ll be right back”
Still no response. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he went into the back room, and he wondered if maybe he wasn’t too late.
When he came back out, cloak in hand, he saw her kneeling by the body of her dead captor. Her hands were covered in his blood, and there was a pair of scissors sticking out of his chest.
Apparently, she was more with it than he thought. “Come on,” he said when he was next to her.
She slowly got to her feet, and he wrapped the commandeered clothing around her.
“Here,” he said as he took a spare bit of cloth out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Wipe your hands off.”
When she was done, he took the now crimson cloth from her and put it back in his pocket. He fastened the cloak around her, and gently grabbed her by the elbow.
“Let’s go,” he told her as he pulled her to the door.
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She didn’t fight him or try to speak all the way back to his ship, and he wasn’t sure if he should be grateful, or concerned.
Once they were both safely inside, he took her to the small bedroom he’d prepared for her.
“Sit,” he commanded. She sat down on the bed.
Riddick ran a frustrated hand over his permanently shaved head. “You stay here, I’m gonna go get clearance for take off. I’ll come back once we’re out of atmo.”
She only sat mutely, staring at the corner of her room as if it held the answers to the universe.
He walked out and hit the release button closing the hatch, and after a second thought, keyed in the code to lock it.
They were cleared for take off almost immediately, and were soon pulling out of Caligula’s orbit. He set a course for one of the remote shipping lanes, and switched to auto-pilot. But he was reluctant to leave the pilot’s chair. He didn’t want to go back and see her like this. And he had a call to make.
Riddick leaned over the console , opened up a secure channel, and keyed in the number he’d committed to memory years ago. He was answered after two rings.
“Hello?”
“I got her holy man.”
Riddick heard Imam let out a sigh of relief. “Praise be to Allah that you have finally found her Mr. Riddick. And praise be to you, as well.”
He grunted.
“Tell me, how is she?”
Riddick paused, thinking the best way to answer the question. “I’m not quite sure yet. She’s a little out of it right now. But I’ll send you a wave as soon as I learn anything new.”
He could tell the holy man was disappointed, but he knew not to press the issue. “Very well. Just, please, take care of her, and bring her home.”
“I will,” he said tersely before he ended the transmission.
Riddick leaned back in his chair and stared out at the stars.
“Light’s fifteen percent,” he called out, and tore off his goggles.
When the hell did things get so fucking complicated he asked himself as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
He hesitantly got up and walked to the ship’s small kitchen. After grabbing some towels and a bowl of water, he made his way back to her room.
She was asleep on the bed when he found her, so he quietly walked over to the bed, and set his supplies on the table next to it.
He tried to remain indifferent and detached as he took off her clothes and ran the cool, damp cloth over her skin, but it wasn’t easy. He was a man, and she was a woman. A very attractive woman at that. But all he had to do was think back on how dead her eyes had looked at the Him-A-Laya to bring him back to the present.
She seemed a little too thin, but other that that he thought she looked perfectly healthy. Until he got to her wrists and saw the faint vertical scars there.
He had to bite back the plethora of obscenities that threatened to come out and wake her as he saw them.
It took him a few minutes to get back in control of his emotions, but once he was, he hastily finished cleaning her up, and covered her with a blanket.
She still hadn’t stirred. Riddick checked her pulse at her neck. Slow and steady. His hand then traveled over her face, and pushed a lock of hair away from her forehead.
“Just what the hell happened to you, Jack?”
Knowing he wasn’t getting an answer tonight, he grabbed a spare blanket from the closet, and made his way to the chair at the other side of the room.
She needed her rest, and so did he.