2 - NIGHT WATCHER

Riddick's eyes opened wide. Frigid air and darkness crept through the fluttering curtains like an intruder. The murky room filled with a sense of dread. A shadow moved over his body, and an icy hand touched his sweaty chest. It caressed the glistening skin beneath its jet black talons. The unnaturally sharp nails skimmed the surface as a strangely off key voice asked, "Can you remember what happened at the field today?"

Shifting to the side, Riddick flipped on the bedside lamp. Its sterile light did little to chase away the apprehension hanging over the bed like a looming storm cloud ready to burst. Dahl had leaned on one elbow. There was a pillow stuffed beneath her shoulder, propping her up on one side. She faced Riddick the way she had so many times before. But this time, pitch-black eyes locked him over with great interest.

His hand flew to the nightstand, searching for the knife he kept close. Not there, he thought.

Dahl smiled. Her right eyebrow rose in mock surprise. Long fingers with onyx talons softly slid over his shoulder, rolling him back over with a strength far above the slender woman behind him. Whatever this thing was, it was not Dahlia John's. Riddick seized its hand. He yanked closer, black eyes glaring back at him emotionlessly, and he spat, "Get out of her."

"Are you so sure I'm in her and not in here," she asked, caressing his cheek and patting him on the head. "After all, the mind is a tricky place to invade."

"I said, Get out of her." He warned, pulling the thing closer. Their noses almost touched.

Dahl wrapped her arms around him, pulled him closer and said in a voice feigning mock ecstasy, "Now you're speaking my language." Riddick shoved her away roughly. She righted herself and said, "Careful sweety, we wouldn't want you damaging the wrapper just to get at the candy inside."

"Now," he demanded, grabbing and shaking her.

She removed his steely hands with no more effort than a parent redirecting a misbehaving child. She was beyond powerful. "I am not hurting her." She explained, tapping her own temple with a thick, razor-sharp nail. "Dahlia is sleeping peacefully. Let's try to keep it that way, shall we? We need a moment alone."

"What do you want, witch?" he demanded, slowly pushing her away. He wanted nothing more than to punch her in the face. But he wasn't looking at Ginger or Shazza. He was looking at the woman he had fallen in love with.

Her face became a scowl, and she said in an exasperated tone, "Every time I leave you to your own devices, you only get yourself further into trouble. As such, I thought it high time there was an impromptu intervention."

The words struck him like a hammer hitting an anvil. He'd heard those words many times before. "Sister Beatrice used to say that?" he thought aloud. "How could you know that? She's long since dead."

She pasted him on the head and shook her head at him as if he were being a dullard and said, "Like Shazza Montgomery is dead, like Ginger is dead or, perhaps, like Martin's mother is dead." She caressed his muscular chest, peered into his shimmering eyes, and said, "You have the most beautiful eyes. Pity, you still don't know how to use them."

Riddick's mouth fell open, his skin flushed, and he thought out loud, "In the alley, it was you on the roof, you were the sniper."

"I have played many parts, portrayed many people. I'm quite good at it. Even if I so say so myself."

He pictured Ginger's black-eyed corpse lying in the puddle. It made the old anger fester in his stomach. The night Martin sacrificed himself on Helion 4, he promised the older Martin he would save Ginger. In the end he failed not just the older Martin, but he failed the boy Martin, as well. Both Martins had lost their mother that night. And her death was his fault. "I knew it was personal." He said, the tone of guilt weighed on him.

"Indeed," she replied, caressing his cheek as her face became pale and translucent. "It was very personal. The Necro prick shot me without cause. In my defense, I enjoyed being Ginger. She knew how to have fun. However," her tone became increasingly darker. "That is not the only reason I killed those brainwashed idiots. They stole something far more valuable to me than my life."

"What's more valuable than one's life?"

She stared at him as if he were being obtuse. Surely he must know the answer, she thought. But after He said nothing, she finally answered, "He ended the only life I would ever have with my children. I think you - of all people - should know the anger of losing a child."

"Are you fucking nuts?" he asked, genuinely not understanding why she believed he could, or should, empathize with her. He had never had a child. How would he know what it feels like to lose one? "Is that the goddamn problem?"

"All this rage; all this anger over the loss of her and you cannot see the truth."

"I saw you as a hooker? You enjoyed being a hooker?"

"Oh, sweety, don't hate me because everyone wants some." she said, grinning coyly at him. "Besides, if I'm not wrong, you seemed to like my assets when I was walking away from you on Helios 4. You remember, the night I gave you my number and you called me."

"I needed a diversion." He said angrily, slapping her hands away as she caressed his chest.

"And how about now?" She asked, running a hand down his belly until he grabbed it just shy of dropping below his belt. "Oh, come now. It's not like you'd be cheating." She leaned closer and whispered, "I could let her watch. It would be her dirty little dream and our dirty little secret."

"Watching," he thought aloud. "You were watching me through those dead eyes. It was you."

"I had to be certain you could finish the task at hand." she replied, unphased by his question.

"What task?" He asked, releasing her lecherous hand from his grip.

"Someone had to save my little angels from your filthy Creator." she replied, staring at him as if inspecting every pore on his face."And who better to save them and kick off his coming demise than his precious Riddick." She spat her last words. "The one he created to do his bidding."

Riddick's skin darkened, his eyes glowed blue, and the air vibrated as the transformation came back in full force. "Who is he?"

"Still haven't figured that out?" she said, staring into his eyes with a coy smile. "I would have thought it obvious."

"Just tell me."

The Lady in Black took Riddick by the lower jaw, moving his head around as she stared into the thing behind his pupils. "You fear whom he may be; so, you refuse to believe what you already know to be true."

Riddick jerked away angrily. He didn't like her touching him. "The only truth I know," he replied, knocking her hand away from his face. "Is that you're all fuckin' with me and I'm sick of it."

"I would expect nothing less." she replied. "If you are, in fact, anything like yours..." Her voice trailed off and then she added, "Creator."

"I'm nothing like him. I don't even know who he is!" Riddick said, voice rising to a shout.

"You speak one way. But your actions say otherwise." she replied matter-of-factly. "Unless, he controls you."

"No one controls me."

"And yet, there you were on Helios 4." she replied, patting his cheek. "Doing my bidding."

"Your bidding?" he said, taken aback by the idea she had drawn him to Helios 4. Martin had asked him if he felt drawn there, and Riddick had admitted he had.

"I left you a present on the wall. Did you find it?" she asked, already knowing the answer. She had left a framed photograph of him, Martin and Breanne, hanging on a back wall.

"That photo belonged to a nun at the orphanage."

"Sister Beatrice." she replied with a cordial nod. "I knew the old girl very well. We are close personal friends. So close in fact, one might even say we were of a single mind."

"You took it from her wall."

She rapped him on the bald head as if knocking on a front door and said, "You really are quite dense, you know?"

Riddick said nothing. He just waited for her to explain.

"Alright, if you insist on being told the obvious," she said in an exasperated tone. "Then let me clarify your last statement. I took it from my wall and placed it in that maintenance bay where I knew both you and my son would find it." His mouth dropped open, and she added, "Did you really think I would allow anyone to just whisk my children off to some backwater orphanage in the middle of nowhere, where I would never see them again? I was there working long before they arrived. Call it doing penance for Ginger's sins."

"You sent Santana into that alley."

"In a fashion."

"And you pulled me back in time. You did this to me to save Martin!"

"Admittedly, I took what I needed from you to save my baby boy. And I can never thank you enough for what you did for him." she admitted. "But I did not put you in the position you now live."

"Who did?"

"Can't say."

Riddick grabbed her by the throat, choking her with all his might. "Or won't say?"

"That too."

Dahl's face turned beet red as the blue glow of Riddick's terrifying change reflected in her bulging eyes. Reaching up, she struggled to pull his charred hands away as tears streamed down her cheeks.

Standing behind her, The Lady in Black leaned down, smiled at Riddick and said, "I warned you not to wake her."

Riddick's jaw dropped. He released his grip as Dahl gasped and choked. He knew she would think he had lost control and attacked her while she slept. For the first time in a long while, terror welled up in r she may leave him.

"You really are going to have to learn how to control the darkness inside you, if you want to beat him and keep her." She warned. And with that, she vanished.

"What are you doing?" Dahl demanded, rubbing the redness circling her neck. "You could have seriously injured me."

Riddick sat up in bed, back turned to her, trying to hide the look of shame on his face. "I'm sorry," he said. "I had a bad dream."

He turned back, not knowing what to expect. Dahl lay beside him, brilliant silver/blue eyes glistening in the light behind him. He forgot the vision, immediately marveling at her as if she was a precious jewel. His fingers went to the long blonde hair spilling down her side. "I saw something; something I've never seen before."

"What?" she asked, as a growing concern entered her raspy voice. Her throat hurt when she spoke. But she didn't want him to know how badly it hurt.

Riddick took a water glass off the bedside table and handed it to Dahl. She took a drink and placed the glass on her table. It helped. Most of the pain subsided, but there was still an achy tickle in her throat.

"It's OK," she said, offering him a weak smile.

"A pyramid." he said, glancing at her with a foreboding expression. "It looked like an old photograph the Reverend Mother kept on her desk. She made a point of teaching me everything about the great pyramids. It looked like the great pyramid at Giza." He explained, shaking his head as if he didn't believe it himself. He said nothing of the recent possession or proposition.

Confused by his tale of the moving painting, Dahl asked, "You saw the Giza Plateau?"

"No." he said, shaking his head. "It wasn't Earth. But it was the same as the Giza necropolis."

"Necropolis?" Dahl Dahl, jaw dropping as a foreboding look of dread contorted her face. "The Necromongers call their throne room the necropolis, don't they?"

"Yeah. That's no coincidence." Riddick answered, shaking his head. He spent the next few minutes telling her the story of Shira, Zhylaw, Vaako and the little girl as she looked on through a mask of growing alarm.

After a few moments to digest his tale, she replied, "Why does everything seem to lead back to those assholes?"

Riddick laughed and said, "Shit luck."

Dahl placed her head against his chest listening to the beating drum inside and reassured him, "Don't worry baby, I'll save you."

Riddick smiled down at her. "You already did?"

"Oh," she said, looking up at him. "How so?"

He stared into Dahl's eyes, thinking how much she meant to him. "For as long as I can remember, I've lived down to the Universe's lowest expectations of me. I've been broken and alone for so long, I'd forgotten I could be anything else. You taught me how to love again, how to trust again. You helped me realize there's still good out there."

Sensing an uneasy sincerity in his voice, she knew there was so much more he wanted to tell her. She reached up, caressed his cheek, and asked, "What's wrong? You'd tell me if you started seeing her again, right?"

"Nothing's wrong," he lied, knowing his feeble attempt to reassure Dahl had failed miserably. "Don't worry." He pulled her closer, wrapped her in a gentle embrace, and kissed her softly on the cheek before she could continue. His display of affection was both comforting and disturbing at the same time.

Dahl pressed her ear against his thick chest, wishing he would explain what was wrong. Reaching down, he gently raised her chin and said, "Before I met you, I was on the run. During that time, only one person ever came back for me and that decision killed her." He paused, remembering the horror-struck expression on Carolyn Fry's face as a bio-raptor dragged her into the darkness on M6-117, and then he emphasized, "No one should ever die for a man like me. I'm not worth it." He thought about the vision he'd just seen, was afraid for Dahl and added, "I should live my life alone."

"No one should have to feel as though they should alone," Dahl replied, her gentle eyes glistening in the sidelight. She moved up, kissed him on the mouth, and felt him grip her as though there might be no tomorrow. She sighed in his embrace; secretly hoping the moment would last forever, but knowing it wouldn't. Because she could tell he had something to say, something she knew he didn't want to admit, and something she knew she didn't want to hear.

For what seemed like a sublime eternity, Riddick ran his fingers through the length of Dahl's hair, occasionally caressing her back and hugging her gently. The gentleness of his touch amazed her, and the depth of feeling in his fingertips stole her heart. She loved him. She loved a man the universe labeled monster and didn't care. Under the dark, cool night of the three Pegreno moons, he was hers and she was his, and at that moment that's all they needed.

"I saw you today." she said, rousing him from his thoughts. "Before we went over to the ball field." She propped herself back up on her pillow again and gestured towards the front of their home. "I watched you take a note off the front door." Riddick's expression became wary, but Dahl sensed his willingness to talk about the note he had found earlier in the day. "What did it say? Have they found us?"

"Us," he replied, without giving the rough carelessness of the word much thought. He saw the hurt hit her face and wished he could take it back. But it was too late. He felt her tense and knew he had hurt her feelings.

"Yes, us." she snapped, prodding him unexpectedly in the ribs. "There's no you… or me; there's only us."

Riddick's face mirrored his regret. He reached out, stroked her alabaster cheek and said, "I'm sorry. It's just Johns was right about one thing. Every time someone gets near me, they always get caught in the crossfire."

"Hold on," she thought aloud. "You're not seriously considering any of these visions are real?"

His head teetered on his shoulders as if he were considering it might have been real. "I realize now, we haven't been hiding from anything. Whatever's out there has known where I was all along. It grew stronger while I hid here in the light. But now, it's back and your..."

She grabbed him in a rather vulnerable spot and replied, with a coy grin, "I can defend myself."

He lurched, moved to pull her hand away and said, "I'd like to know how every woman seems to know that fighting style."

Dahl smiled, knowing she had the lower hand and said, "Hey, if you can't win their hearts and minds, grab them by their..."

Riddick reached out, placed a finger over her lips, preventing her from finishing the sentence, and said, "No."

"What," she said with a coy smile. "You don't like it when I grab your..." She paused as an expression of shock overtook her face. "Well, apparently somebody still likes it."

Riddick's eyes rolled in his head as he reached over and switched off the light. There would be no dirty little dreams or secrets tonight. But he was going to be so very dirty.