Forgotten Past: Chapter One-The Dark
Jack fell into the mud, clawing at it, desperately trying to regain her
faltering footing. The clicks and screeches coming from the monsters behind her
were closing in, gaining on her.
There was a great whoosh of air and she felt a leathery wing brush against the
back of her neck. She cried out and clasped the blade tightly in her hand.
Something heavy fell against her back and she crashed to the ground, the breath
knocked from her struggling lungs. She rasped in a cold, wet breath and rolled
sideways. Jack swung wildly with the blade, felt it connect. Warm blood
splattered on her face and she sprung to her feet once more, running towards the
light.
But it was to late. She felt the claws bite into her flesh, the teeth tear her
skin from her bones and screamed. She screamed until her throat was raw, but
still the sound echoed from her mouth, her head flung back.
The darkness swallowed her, pulled her down into its icy depths. And then she
woke up, sitting straight up on her bed, and still screaming.
There was a low growl and she was suddenly shoved back down flat on the
mattress, a hard, callused hand flattened roughly over her mouth.
She fought back, pulling the blade out from beneath her leg and lashing out at
the hand. But the voice stopped her. It stopped her as it had always stopped
her.
“Jack! Dammit, Jack, wake up!” That growl was words now and she forced her
eyes to focus on the face hovering above hers. Riddick’s glowing eyes stared
down at her, their silvery depths calming her. She dropped her knife hand to the
mattress and went very still, slowly relaxing her tensed muscles.
A low moan raised from her throat and she rolled away from him towards the wall.
Every night for the past month she’d woken them both up like this. And every
night she’d drawn the blade he’d taught her to use; on him.
Riddick pushed to his feet quietly and slid back into his chair. “I’m going
to take that knife away from you if you keep trying to kill me with it,” he
growled, watching her back.
They seem to have worked out some sort of routine, now. She fall asleep, he’d
follow soon after. Then she’d wake up screaming her head off and he’d try to
shake her out of the nightmares. Then she’d pull that damn knife he’d made
her and try to kill him with it. She’d suddenly hear his voice and realize
what she was about and moan, roll over and then they’d go back to sleep. After
that, she’d make it through the rest of the night without mishap. Without
another nightmare.
She was silent for a long time, her breathing slowing down gradually. “I’m
sorry,” she finally murmured, still keeping her back to him.
He shrugged, not caring that she couldn’t see the movement. He knew Jack could
hear it. “Don’t worry about it. One more night of this though, and I’m
keeping your blade with me at night.”
Jack rolled back over to face him, her eyes already adjusted to the light.
Riddick hadn’t let her get her eyes shined, although she’d begged and begged
him for two years. She’d finally given up, realizing that if she really wanted
it done, she’d have to go behind his back for it.
Riddick cocked his head to the side, watching her. She seemed to have slipped
back into that place in her head. She said it wasn’t so horrible there when
she was awake. It only got bad when she was sleeping, when it was dark in her
mind and the monsters could come out again.
He understood that. He could fight it when he was awake, too. But when the night
came, and sleep was necessary, there was no escape.
Riddick had just learned to control himself when he was sleeping. He’d woken
up screaming more than once, though. At first, it had been him. His scream would
wake Jack and she’d crawl across whatever space that separated them and curl
up as close to him as he’d allow her to.
Not anymore though. She became more and more distant from him every day. He knew
he should be glad she didn’t need him for everything anymore. But he wasn’t.
For three years he’d taken care of her. The first two years had been the
hardest, but whenever he got back from whatever job he was doing, she’d been
waiting for him. A grin on her face, just happy to see him come back to her. To
know he hadn’t left her alone.
Then he’d come home one night to find her gone. Her belongings were still
under her mattress, but her blade had been missing.
Struggling between wanting to go after her and waiting until she came home, he
opted for both.
He’d gone out into the night and tracked her down, through winding streets and
parties that raged long into the night. She’d been at one of those parties,
dancing with some boy that had his hands tangled in her dark hair.
Riddick had struggled against the urge to cut the kid’s hands off and drag
Jack home. The fatherly feeling had stunned him and he’d backed off, realizing
that although Jack was in his care, she wasn’t his. Never had been. He was
quickly realizing that she never would be, either.
When she’d come home, hours later, the lights had been off, as usual. He’d
been sitting in a chair, facing the door.
Jack had frozen when she’d seen his glimmering eyes gazing at her in the
darkness.
“Are you all right?” he’d asked, the need to grab her and look her over
rushing through him.
She’d stared at him, her eyes searching his dark face. “Yes,” was all she
said, her voice low and quiet as it slid through the night to his ears.
“Good. Get some sleep. We leave here tomorrow.” And that had been that. He
hadn’t confronted her about leaving without his permission. He hadn’t
spanked her like he would have liked to. Hell, he’d wanted to punch her out
for freaking him out the way she had.
And for many nights after that, wherever they were, she’d been gone when
he’d gotten back from work.
She worked now, as well. She made her own money, bought her own clothes and most
of her own food.
He hated that Jack didn’t need him anymore. That if she so pleased she could
leave him and he’d be alone again. But that’s what he wanted, he told
himself, letting his eyes drift shut.
He wanted her to be on her own, then he could leave her and forget about that
last trace of horror back on that monstrous planet. Where he’d learned to be
human again and that not everyone thought he was a monster.
“Goodnight, Riddick.”
Riddick’s eyes flew open when he heard Jack’s soft voice say those two
words. She hadn’t said that to him in almost a year, and he felt himself
smiling in the dark, despite what he kept telling himself.
He didn’t care that he should ditch her. She stayed because she wanted to, and
that was enough for him. Riddick would keep her.
***