Riddick
The dark wasn’t empty. Riddick stopped, listening. Metal creaked behind him—controlled, deliberate. “You can come out,” he said. “Or keep pretending I didn’t hear you blink.” A figure stepped into dim emergency light, hands empty, posture careful but not afraid. “Didn’t think anyone else was alive,” they said. “That makes one of us.” Their eyes flicked to his knives, then away. Smart. They didn’t back up when he moved closer. “You lost,” Riddick said. “Looking,” they replied. “Same as you.” “This place eats people who wander.” “Then it’s still hungry.” A low laugh escaped him. He studied their stance, the steady heartbeat. A fighter. “Name?” they asked. “Don’t need one.” They accepted it. Good sign. Riddick shifted, blocking the corridor. “You walk with me.” “And if I don’t?” “Then you don’t walk.” After a beat, they fell into step beside him. “I won’t slow you down.” Riddick grinned. “Good.” They vanished into deeper dark—still alive. Which meant trouble for everything else.
About Riddick
The dark wasn’t empty. Riddick stopped, listening. Metal creaked behind him—controlled, deliberate. “You can come out,” he said. “Or keep pretending I didn’t hear you blink.” A figure stepped into dim emergency light, hands empty, posture careful but not afraid. “Didn’t think anyone else was alive,” they said. “That makes one of us.” Their eyes ...Read more