Black a color that matches with my soul.

The lights went out pitching the bar into total oblivion. Wylie pulled her glasses to the top of her head and blinked once rubbing the meat of her hands against her eyes. The shouts from the other side of the bar was almost deafening. She glanced over to see Riddick in a crouched position with his muscular arms hung easily between his thighs. Wylie grinned out of the corner of her wide mouth and moved her shiv aimlessly between her hands.

Riddick looked over putting a finger to his wide lips. He crouched, crab walking around the other side of the bar and dissipated into the gloom.

A stray plasma burst blanked out the room for a moment searing Wylie's vision

"Damn it Johns! Be careful you almost took off my frigging foot."

"Shit, shit, shit." someone Wylie didn't know squealed. "Their in here with us. They can see in the dark."

"Can it Jordan." another voice piped in.

"Jordan," the voice announced. "Go over to the back door and kick it open. We need some fucking light in here."

"K boss."

Wylie looked around her corner of the bar to see Jordan stumbling to the back of the bar with his hands out in front of him feeling along the far wall..

Wylie stood, moving silently she crossed the narrow gap of the room in a few strides. She reached Jordan and calmly grasped the top of his head arching the line of his neck in a graceful curve backwards against her shoulder. Before he could whimper Wylie had slid the razored edge of the shiv against the tinder flesh of the throat. She felt the scalding gush of his blood coat the handle of her shiv and worm its way down both of her arms. Grunting quietly she arched her back trying to hold the bulk of the Mercs body up to stop it from crashing to the floor.

Another plasma burst seared her vision.

Fucking muscle spasm

Wylie released Jordan's body letting it fall to the floor unceremoniously, the smoking plasma gun still glowing dully in the blackness

"Fucking cunt." A voice yelled in the darkness. Wylie had enough time to make a dive behind Jordan's now cooling body as a bevy of plasma shot lit up the bar again.

"She got Jordan!" A confused voice shouted.

Wylie peeked her head above Jordan's shoulder to see the remaining Mercs in a crouched position moving their plasmas blindly left to right.

Good time to get my ass ghosted. They all got itchy trigger fingers.

Wylie grabbed Jordan under the arms and slowly dragged him behind her stretch of the bar.

Time for a little entertainment.

Wylie sat Jordan's limp body up pushing her weight against it to keep it upright. She slowly grabbed it by the elbow and raised the hand above the eye level of the bar. She slapped the bar furiously with the palm of the dead mans hand hoping to mimic the sound of someone in distress

"Jordan, Jordan!" One of the men called for his partner.

Wylie smirked slapping the bar in response. She peeked around the side of the bar careful to squint her eyes.

"Boss, Jordan's over there! We gotta go help em!"

Plasma bursts lit up the gloom in their desperate attempt to get some kind of light.

"Don't move!" Johns yelled out. "If she got to him hes already dead."

Again Wylie slapped the bar, more feebly this time.

Another plasma burst skittered over the top of the bar cleanly detaching the dead mans hand causing it to fall on the floor with a wet splat.

"See? Hear anything?" Johns bellowed the sound echoing. "Hear Jordan yelling? No you don't, cause hes fucking dead! Now don't fucking move!"

Wylie looked over and picked up the dead limp hand.

You'll come in handy...handy heheh...where the fuck is Riddick at?

She could hear the rest of the Mercs milling around trying to cover each others backs.

Wylie stood, grasping the hand and then picking up the plasma gun. She took a deep breath and ran towards the group of Mercs. Looking at them she tossed the severed hand at the largest one that she figured was the ringleader.

"Here, catch!" Wylie said as she saw the Merc instinctively reach out in the gloom to grasp the now icy digits of his fallen partner.

"Fuck, fuck!" He screamed as he realized what he was now holding.

"Yeah," Wylie said, "fuck is about it."

Wylie aimed the plasma and fired into the group punching a hole through the abdomen of one and taking the bottom part of the mandible off another of the Mercs hearing teeth skitter across the barroom floor

Wylie grimaced and dropped the gun to her side her fingers scorched by the heat of the barrel. She looked at the scene in front of her. One of the Mercs was now spasming on the floor his hands clutched over the smoking void that used to be his stomach. The other was now wailing pitifully, his hands scabbering at the bloody stump of his lower jaw.

Wylie wrinkled her nose at the smell of burning flesh and stepped over the body of the Merc who was gut shot and still twitching. She took her eye off the second Merc to see Riddick dispatching the third with a clean puncture through the sweet spot. Walking over slowly to the Merc who was now kneeling Wylie squatted down next to him and pushed his hair behind his ear.

"Go to sleep little one." She whispered quietly into his ear. Slowly she picked up the plasma and pressed it to his temple and pulled the trigger watching his head dissolve into a spray of bone fragments and thicker things.

Where the fuck is Johns at?

"Riddick? You all right?" Wylie asked cocking her head towards him

Riddick didn't answer his big bulk moving through the bodies pushing some of them aside with the toe of his boot.

"Riddick?"

Without turning he waved his hand at her telling her silently to come near him.

Wylie stood wiping the gore on the legs of her pants and feeling the fresh liquid warm them. She walked over quietly and stood next to Riddicks bulk.

"Johns!" Riddicks voice rumbled. Come out.