Six

'In hell'- Jack

Jack woke up in her bedroom, cuddling her teddy bear. It was night. She could hear faint footsteps and then someone tucking the covers over her head. And crying.

Jack never saw her again.

Don't let _anyone_ hurt you.

The words were buzzing in Jack's ears. In one split second she remembered her sister's voice, her face. She could never forget Nikki's face. Her red eyes, her tears, her scars… It haunted her for many years and the nightmares were starting to get away, too.

But they were replaced by new ones.

And they were about to be realized in front of her. No, things couldn't get any worse. This was going to be hell.

Riddick pressed her against the wall harder, his hand firmly gripping Jack's wrists above her head.

He let go off her mouth.

"Scream as you will, Jack," he said, nearly menacingly. "No-one here to listen to you if you do."

She swallowed hard.

Oh, shit.

He smiled, examining her reaction.

"Oh yeah, you got all dressed up for me, haven't you, Jack," he continued.

Terror in her eyes widened.

Riddick leaned closer to her, now sniffing at her neck.

"Nice smell, Jack," he smiled, his lips brushing against her ear. "I _like_ it."

His breath was warm, but it sent shivers through her body.

"It must have cost you a fortune, aren't I right?" He licked his lips. "All that for me?"

You damn psycho-bastard!

Riddick could feel her shaking underneath him.

He moved his head to the other side of her neck. "You're not scared of me now, are you, Jack?" He whispered hoarsely. "You definitely weren't before."

He paused, as if thinking. "I think we should do something about your clothes. Not that I don't like them--," he looked at her, as a predator would over his prey.

His hand went abruptly to her top, just where it revealed a piece of bare skin.

Jack tried to move as far away from him as possible. Any second she would melt into the wall. He smiled devilishly, amused.

His fingers slid under it, playfully going over her waist.

Now she began to struggle.

"You sick fuck!" She yelled at him. "Get your fucking hands off of me!"

He laughed in her ear.

His hand climbed up her abdomen, cupping her breast.

"I'll rip your fucking nuts off for this!" She seethed.

"You don't like it, Jack?" He asked, playing hurt. "So…What about this?"

He let go, his hand slowly slipping down to her waist. Then he pushed it under the waistband of her trousers.

"You son of a bitch!"

He smiled.

And then his expression abruptly changed.

No emotion, no humanity. His eyes were unreadable. The beast within him took over.

" Don't play with me, Jack." He growled, "I don't let people who mess with me come out of it alive."

His grip over her wrists was getting painful. She gazed at him with terror, fear, agony. A mixture of feelings. This wasn't the Riddick she 'knew'. A stranger. A murderer.

Oh God, if he wants to kill me, lets get it over with. I can't take it any longer…

But no rapist.

He freed the grip over her unexpectedly, still holding her left arm. She was still too paralyzed to do something. Suddenly, it seemed slightly apologetically, he leaned forward to her, twisting her arm.

"What the he--"

A shot of pain shot through her. Fuck! She couldn't move her arm! He hadn't dislocated it, she noticed, but 'just'…she didn't know _what_ he did with it. It just hurt like hell.

"God damnit, what…"

He smiled, mock-menace in his voice. " Don't mess with me, again."

Shit. *Shit*. She couldn't move her fucking arm. Not the slightest. It seemed as an extra piece of her body.

"Common here," he said, "I'll put it back for you."

This enraged her even more. She struck out at him with her other arm only to have him catch it in mid-swing. No, she wasn't listening to him. A mad frenzy took over her.

"Don't tempt me, Jack," he laughed at her, holding her hand in front of his face.

Somehow she managed to move her limp arm, surprising him with a hard punch. A trickle of blood escaped from his nose, resting in the corner of his mouth. He opened it slightly, wiping the blood with the palm of his hand, slowly. Then he licked his lips.

"A good one, but not good enough. Next time…next time don't hit me." He said, huskily.

God, the pain was starting to get unbearable.

Riddick started looking around. His eyes rested on the restraints on the table.

He smiled, wickedly. "Gotta keep you out of sight for a while."

"What?!"

He grabbed her, pulling her with him over to the table.

"No! No, you won't-"

He nodded his head, raising his eyebrows. "That's _exactly_ what you need, Jack."

Fuck him!

The feelings in her changed from fear to rage as she realized what he was going to do. She tried to dive past him, heading for the door.

She never made it.

He had her pinned underneath him. Fastening the restraints she struggled against them screaming obscenities.

"Calm down, Jack. This is not going to kill you," he laughed at her.

"I'm gonna kill you for this!" She yelled at him.

Shit, maybe that wasn't the wisest to say to an escaped convict. She searched his expression for any sign of fury, but finding none she decided to keep screaming.

"You son of a bitch! What the hell are you doing?!"

"Well, Jack. To tell the truth, it's a long time since I had a good fuck," he smirked at her.

Great.

What?!

"Goddamnit! Let me go you sick bastard!" She surged up against the restraints, now struggling fiercely. "You're not fucking with me!"

He chuckled at her response. Just then she realized he was only playing with her.

"Shit! Shit." Jack calmed down, taking a deep breath.

He looked down at her, a smile forming in the corners of his mouth.

"What now, Riddick? What are you gonna do with me now?" She seethed.

He didn't answer. She caught a glimpse of the hypo only a second before she felt the sting on her neck. Everything went pitch black.