Title: Black Spiral

Author: Chez

Email: [email protected]

Rating: R for violence and disturbing imagery

Category: Riddick

Summary: Maybe the story of Riddick�maybe just his insanity�

Notes: My 2nd PB fic and probably the darkest piece I have ever written�

Disclaimer: I do not own or claim rights to the characters or settings of Pitch Black. They belong to those who have created them�I only enjoy them

Archive: The Nut Crew�anyone else only needs ask�

Feedback: Feed Me

Prologue:

It had begun at the dark embrace of a tunnel and had further coiled its way into time and space-- and everything that was and would be. The dimension it had traveled to and thru was a complexity in itself and the task at hand was of the utmost importance to its nature. It was dark and crimson in color and it swirled-- spiraling into black oblivion. It crushed against blades of obsidian and flowed thru rough corridors like the ocean rushing towards hell. Its destination had been chosen and the process-- had begun�

And so had begun the directly tainted life of a child thrown into a dumpster in the back of a decaying alley --never even having a blessing of innocence. The child�s life had begun with the coldness of congealed crimson and so it seemed would end in such horror. His cries where that of a steel blade searching for its victim, and the sweet metallic melody echoed along the planes of his new world.

They had found him that night and his life was spared the one possible true blessing�death. And in stealing his death�they had fated their own.

So the child grew and was tossed along the whirlwinds of life without ever being embraced by the warmth of light, or that of his mother�s breast. As he grew, the nature grew inside him as well and his first victim was claimed at the tender age of six.

No one ever guessed though, that old McDermott had not fallen from his top window but had rather been somewhat helped with that action. Eventually, a trail did seem to appear along the side of the child. Names and dates�all faceless in the commotion that they had become.

He had been sent then to a place they had told him would help him�help him to get better, but he had known he had no need to heal. There was no part of him that had ever been pure. It was deep in those dank yellowed walls that darkness finally claimed his full attention. His mind sank into rhythm with the spiraling black oblivion and�

--the man was born� Riddick.

--the madness of the century-- of all the time to come�