Disclaimer: I do not own Riddick nor Pitch Black. I wish though. This is my first time to actually writing a story, if reader's can give me an idea if it's good or bad or just plain sucks. I would greatly appreciate it. Enjoy!

Walking onto the deck where the cryo sleep containers were lined up against the wall, something felt different. Something bad was going to happen on the Hunter Gratzner. I looked up at my brother, Lawrence, to get a piece of contentment off him but only felt anxiety. We were supposed to be heading to a medical facility so I could be receiving psychological treatment. No, I'm not crazy, just odd. Oh, where are my manners, the name is Maria Cinder Rayne Victoria Bronson and I can see Death.

If you are wondering if I'm talking about the black cloaked figure with the wicked scythe, the answer is no. Death is much more than that. I've known and been able to see Death ever since I could remember. Death wears an all black business suit with a handheld. I guess if times changes and lots more people than usual, you need something more modern to keep up with the death counts. Death is a female. How do I know? I never seen her face, that is privileged for the dying, but her voice is very beautiful and husky, like a singers voice. I've also been able to see who is marked for death. It's like a black smoky appearance that shrouds people. Ever hear, doctors say that blood just won't wash off their hands? Well I can see who killed that said person. It's like a carbon piece of that person that was killed is always on them no matter if they scrub to the bone and change a set of clothes. It is always there.

My brother, Lawrence Michael Wayne Bronson VIII, trying to direct me to my container when something caught my attention. A mocha colored man blind folded with a horse bit in his mouth locked in his container. I stepped away from my brother to look closely at this man. He was quite a bit taller than me, shaved bald, and he definitely worked out. He was wearing everything in black; tank top, cargo pants and boots. It wasn't just the man that caught my attention but the death that surrounded him. My petite hands gently fell on the glass separating me from him to get a closer read on this man. He has killed so many but to insure his survival. I've seen his killing before on the news wave though it's different to see him first hand. I can't tell over news wave who is marked and who has killed. This man was the most wanted convict in the verse. The man that couldn't be held in hells cages. Richard B. Riddick. Everything about this man is wrong. Yes, he has killed but I know who has killed. No innocent blood is on his hands. Other convicts, prisoners, animals from hunting, and mercs.

My hand was yanked off the clear glass by a ginger haired man wearing police uniform. He was taller than me but than again who isn't. I read the name on his plate. Johns. The man has innocent blood on his hands. He has killed to ensure any capture, Riddick's capture, his bounty. Johns is a merc.

"I wouldn't be doing that if I were you. That's Riddick up in there."

"I'm not scared of him."

"You should be. He wouldn't waste carving a pretty face like yours up."

Johns tried to make me scared of him but I knew better. "I fear no man."

I mean why would I be. I see Death on a daily basis. "Riddick isn't a man. He's an animal."

"We are all animals, some more than others. It's the ones that keep it quiet are the ones that we should fear the night. What does that make you, Johns?" Johns had an evil glint in his eye when I started to speak some more, "Maybe you should be in those chains for killing innocent lives to secure your pay day even with that fake nickel slick badge. Riddick's innocent compared to you."

Johns was about to say something when Lawrence grabbed my arms yanking me back towards my cryo container. Riddick's temporary prison was adjacent to mine. I couldn't hear what Johns was saying to Riddick before his left for his cryo container but I could tell it wasn't pretty. The last thing I remember seeing was a slight flair of his nostrils and for the smoky black color surround my brother before the sleeping gas consumed me.

*Riddick*

The say most of your brain shuts down in cryo sleep. All but the primitive side. The animal side. No wonder I'm still awake. Transporting me with civilians. Sounded like 40, 40-plus. Heard an Arab voice, some hoodoo holy man, probably on his way to New Mecca. But what route? What route? Smelled a woman. Sweat, boots, tool belt, leather. Prospector type. Free settlers. And they only take the back roads. And here's my real problem. Mr. Johns, the blue-eyed devil. Plannin' taking me back to slam only this time he picked a ghost lane. The woman from earlier. Smelled cotton, leather, vanilla cinnamon. Her words, saying that I'm innocent compared to Johns, replays in my mind. If this bit wasn't in my mouth, I would've laughed. She could tell past the fake uniform and southern charm, that Mr. Johns was nothing but a merc. I'm not scared of him. I fear no man, she says. How interesting. A long time between stops. A long time for something to go wrong.

*Maria*

Bright light piercing my container was very annoying. When I realized I'm on my back. I shouldn't be on my back. I should be standing. Something must have gone wrong. Trying to pull the lever to let me open my container broke off. Banging on the door so some could hear me. I wasn't going to die in this. This isn't going to be my tomb. Wrapping my hands from the abnormally long sleeve that I tore off. My hands went for the broken lever used it to pry it open. With no such luck, I just used rest of my strength to beat the glass a hard as I could just in case somebody else was alive. The fracture of glass set a wave of relief through my body. It was then the door to my container opened. A female with black wavy hair reaching my hand to help me out. "You're alright there?"

I just nodded my head to breath in the air but the air felt very tight as if there wasn't very much in the air. "You lucky we heard the banging on that there glass. We wouldn't have seen you," I turned to see a man dark skin color than the Riddick with black curly hair speak.

"Lawr- Lawrence? Where's my brother?" I asked to search for the wreckage.

"He's gone. He was one of the unlucky ones to be pulled out of the ship when we crashed," she says.

I was shocked. I never thought I would see Death claim my brother this early in life. Death is unpredictable. My hands went to my hair to grab the black tangles. There was no one left. No one in my family. Oh well, I will grieve for him later on after we get saved off this rock. I got up from where I was sitting to walk towards the light. Something else about this planet seems odd. It is coated in death. Black smoky appearance is thick everywhere especially where the termite spires off towards the distance. I noticed out of my peripheral vision, a black business figure. I looked at it closely to see Death standing at the termite spires. "Death is coming."

The sound of metal clinking on metal caught my attention. Curiosity got the best of me so I went to check to see where it came from. There was Johns cuffing Riddick's arms behind him around the support beam and feet to the grates. A loud male scream was back in the direction of the cock pit area making Johns head towards the scream. I took the opportunity to get a sneak peek at the escaped convict. I watched his head turn slightly. Probably estimating how far I am from him. I squatted in front of him as I watched his head follow my footsteps and nose flare. Riddick must have my scent. No surprise there. In and out of slams will teach a guy how to survive even if blindfolded.

The smoky mist surrounding him starting to dissipate. I read the mist carefully. He was so close to achieving his goal in killing Johns. Made me slightly chuckle. Hey surrounded by Death can twist your sense of humor plus I don't like the merc. I was about to say something when I heard familiar footsteps. I didn't want Johns to notice I was there so I scooted closer to Riddick's right side hiding myself his large frame and the support beam. I felt bad that he was handled like this. I heard a slight growl rumbling in his chest but it didn't scare me in the slightest. Once I saw the familiar blue uniform move off into the sun, I moved away from Riddick. I looked closer at the mist carefully. He plays a hand in the mercs death. "It will come soon. Look in the right place. His death will not be brought by your hands. With death comes freedom for a while."

I got up wiping his brow off with my bandaged hand to cool him off then left Riddick only to by cornered by Johns at the entrance. "Thought I told you to stay away from him. What did you say to him?"

Johns body was seriously raping my personal bubble. He didn't feel right. Not how Riddick's form seem to fit perfectly against mine. Bringer and spectator of death. I didn't answer Johns right away earning my body being flushed against his in a manner that made me want to throw up. In a demanding voice he asked, "What did you say to him?"

I could smell the dosage of medicinal drugs pouring out of his pores. Biting back the bile, I answered, "Only that in your death brings his freedom."

He snorts, "Riddick isn't going to kill me. Tried many times, he hasn't yet."

I looked at his smoky mist. It was spiking. A smile played with my lips as I say in a chuckling manner, "Riddick is not the one you should fear. Death is already here and has a claim on you."