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Disclaimer: Pitch Black belongs to USA Films. The title of my story is taken from a letter written by Maj. Sullivan Ballou, one week prior to his death at the First Battle of Bull Run. “Sarah, my love for you is deathless. If I do not return, my dear Sarah, never forget how much I loved you nor that when my last breath escapes me on the battlefield it will whisper your name."

Rating: R

Whisper Your Name

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Ch 1 - Ghosts Of The Past

“Richard,” Carolyn Fry whispered to the darkness that slowly turned the purple streaked sky into a thick cushion of velvet that sparkled with stars. The festive sounds of the Earth holiday Christmas could be heard coming from the small two-story building that wrapped around three sides of the garden terrace where she sat in solitude.

It had been a rough 15 months for her. A year earlier, she’d been in the hospital, too weak to do much more than nod her head, with very little memory of the events that had gotten her in that condition. Now she could remember almost all of it. The crash of the Hunter-Gratznia was vivid in her mind and her dreams. But it was the two days spent fighting the alien monsters that roamed the eclipsed planet, which often brought her awake screaming in a cold sweat.
Her last clear memory of the terror that had been stalking them, was getting Imam and Jack safely to the skiff, then going back to help Richard. If she closed her eyes, she could see the look of concern and caring on his face, and her own reflection in his shined eyes. Then she had been struck from behind, and filled with a sharp searing pain that had caught her by surprise. In her mind, she had known what it was: her own death. The monsters had gotten her. But somehow, she’d lived. Richard B. Riddick, escaped convict and killer, had saved her, but had been unable to save himself.

Imam had told her that Richard had been badly wounded fighting the alien that had attacked her. He had managed to get her back to the skiff, before other aliens had struck and carried him off. Carolyn had been bleeding badly, and was almost in shock, but had been strong enough to pilot the skiff through a blast-off. According to the Holyman, the last thing she did before she passed out was set the autopilot for the Sol Track shipping lanes. The two passengers had put her in the only sleep tube on the small shuttle, and had crossed their fingers that someone would intercept their distress call before they ran out of water or oxygen.

She remembered clearly, standing in the rain, as she and Richard held tightly to one another. But of getting the skiff off the ground, she remembered, nothing! Her next clear memory was waking up in a hospital on New Mecca. Lost somewhere in the shadows of those weeks, was all she had done, and what had been done to save her life. Though at times she had a faint memory of the sound of a man’s voice calling her name and telling her she had to live. That she couldn’t die for him. She knew that voice, and it could belong to only one person. Even now, she shook her head at the tricks her mind had played on her. It couldn’t have been Richard; he’d been dead for weeks. She must have been caught in a loop, fixated on his last words, the ones he’d said to her before the monster had struck.
As she listened to the Christmas carols that were being sung by boarders at the small hotel in Mecca City, that she ran with Imam and Jack, she shivered and looked closely into the shadows that were cast by the rising moon. Something made her feel jumpy, almost as if she was being watched. She had grown accustom to that sensation when she’d first been released from the hospital. The Company had kept a close eye on her, often from a discreet distance. She hadn’t been surprised that they’d sent their watchdogs after her, it was the price she’d paid for being the only member of the crew to survive the crash of a Company ship.

What had surprised her was the stance they’d taken, in what she had thought was an informal hearing, a few months after her release from the hospital. The Company had declared pilot error as the cause of the crash. They stated that if Carolyn Fry had followed the flight computer’s orders and dumped all remaining bays, the Hunter-G, would have been saved.

She found it interesting that in the official report it wasn’t mentioned that the only bay she had been unable to expel had been the one containing the passengers. But what she thought hadn’t been deemed important. She’d been little more than a spectator, in the three-day ordeal, which had ended with the loss of her credentials, and what amounted to blacklisting by the Company. They had needed a scapegoat and had had no qualms about throwing her to the wolves

“Carolyn, you out there?” Jack stuck her head out the door, interrupting the blond woman’s brooding.

“I’m just enjoying the night air.” Carolyn looked over her shoulder at the young teen that came to join her.

“Here’s some of the hot cider we made. We did good, this time!” It was evident that the child was thriving in the family life that the Holyman and Carolyn were trying hard to provide for her.

“Whatta mean this time?” Carolyn chuckled.

“Well ya gotta admit that your cooking isn’t much better than mine, and that isn’t saying a whole lot.” The two women had shared many laughs at their attempts in the kitchen, though both were proud of the progress they were making. “Though we haven’t made a lodger puke in months!”

“We were never that bad.” She rolled her eyes at the teen’s exaggerations.

“Ha, you weren’t in the mood to eat much when you first began doing the cooking, I was!” The accidental reminder of Carolyn’s poor health in the past, and the reason for it, brought a stop to the joking. “Here, Imam says I’m to give you this, and be sure you put it on.” The younger woman placed a blue wrap over the older one’s shoulders.

“Thank you, Jackie.” Carolyn pulled the soft wool around her. “I hate to wear it, when I don’t know who sent it.” She grimaced at the lovely shawl that she had found carefully wrapped under the Christmas tree that morning. It was the exact shade as her eyes and she loved it, but it gave her pause. She knew it hadn’t come from either Jack or Imam. It was obvious she had a secret admirer out there. But since there was only one man she wanted, and he was dead, it didn’t seem right to wear a gift from someone else.

“You okay?” A frown marred the teen’s smooth brow. She hadn’t seen the older woman this sad in months.

“Sure,”” Carolyn lied, as her eyes darted around the outer edges of the terrace. She couldn’t very well tell Jack that she felt as if someone was watching her, again. The young girl had had enough nightmares of her own after their ordeal on the eclipse planet.

Jack looked into the shadows and glared at the man who she knew was probably hiding there. He was a big man, who could be rough and tough, but who had shown her nothing but kindness. A part of her loved him like a big brother. Another part of her wanted to shake him until his teeth rattled, for the game he was playing. She was sure the shawl had come from him. That meant that he was back. But why in the hell he wanted to keep it a secret from Carolyn was beyond her.

In the beginning it had all made sense to Jack. They’d been in the skiff and Carolyn’s blood had been everywhere. Richard had been slick with it when he’d carried her up the boarding ramp. As the hatch closed behind him, and he lay her on the deck, both Jack and Imam were sure she was dead. But Richard had refused to let her die! As the big convict had piloted the ship away from that hellhole of a planet, Jack and Imam had cut up blankets and bound Carolyn’s wounds.

It had been Riddick’s idea to put her in stasis until they reached New Mecca. He had spent 40 hours at the helm, never sleeping, driven by one purpose, to get Carolyn to medical care as quickly as possible. And he had done it! She had lived, but as far as everyone was concerned, Richard B. Riddick had died. The man he had been was torn apart by monsters on a rainy black night as he held a small blond woman close to his heart. In his place was born Zeke Richards, prospector and miner, a free settler; destine to wander the galaxy always alone.

Riddick had planned it all, including the story they had told everyone. He’d hidden in an empty supply locker, until Imam and Jack had seen that Carolyn was taken to a hospital. Once the skiff was abandoned, he’d disappeared into the night. A few days later he’d showed up on their doorstep demanding to know how Fry was. He’d spent his days with them, but had slipped out each night. Somehow he managed to sneak into the hospital and had sat with the unconscious woman, until he was sure she was going to be all right.

The night nurse had told Jack about the shy, kindly prospector who’d held Carolyn’s hand all night, every night, often talking to her, telling her she had to live. Whispering her name over and over again, as if he would call her back from whatever depths she had gone to hide in. It was the old nurse’s belief that without his support the small thin blond would have given up and died.

“You still miss him don’t you?” Jack asked quietly as she watched her friend sipping the spicy cider, trying to pretend that everything was all right.

“I didn’t realize it showed.” Blue eyes met knowing brown ones. “I don’t have any right to, really.” Carolyn forced a smile. “Though the best part of me died on that planet. He gave me courage and made me stronger than I ever thought I could be.” He had given her much more than that, but she would never speak to anyone about the passion that they had shared during the long systems check on the skiff. That was something that she held close to her heart.

The memory of his touch still had the power to make her ache with longing. There were nights when she thought she could almost catch his scent, if she closed her eyes and tried hard enough. At times like that, she could feel his skin move against hers while his mouth kissed and tugged at first one nipple and then the other. He had played with her and teased her, driving her higher and higher, until her desires had exploded again and again, making her want no one but him. When they had finally come together their passion had been so intense, that if they could have bottled it, they’d have been able to use it to fuel the little ship.

“Carolyn?” Jack whispered her name, surprised by the look of open desire and longing that filled her friend’s face. ‘So that’s the way of it.’ The teen thought to herself. For the first time she understood the fear that had dogged Riddick’s heels when he had run from New Mecca three days after the sick woman had regained consciousness. Somehow the two adults had found time to share something very intimate while surrounded by death and monsters. From where Jack stood, it looked like that something had opened the door for feelings that neither the man nor the woman had expected!

“Sorry, Jack, I was lost in thought.” She turned away to hide the fire that she knew burned in her eyes. “I can’t help wondering where he would be, or what he’d be doing if he’d lived.” She sipped her cider as she looked at the stars in hope of finding an answer.

“Oh, Carolyn, I wish I could make it all better.” Jack whispered as she leaned over and gave her a hug. Even through the other woman’s shirt and wrap, she could feel the ridges of heavy scar across her back, but it only made her hang on tighter.

“Thanks, honey.” She squeezed back, letting herself be held for just a moment before breaking the child’s hold on her. It had been a long time since some one had held her like that and she’d needed it badly. “You go back inside, and help Imam with the last of the boarders, I’ll be in shortly to clean up from the party.”

“Dishes are already done.” Jack grinned at her. “Don’t stay up too late, you look tired.”

“All right,” she nodded as she reached to unfasten the clip that held her hair off her neck. She ran her hands through the blond strands that she’d let grow for the first time in years. Now that she didn’t constantly have to worry about long periods of cold sleep, she could wear it any way she pleased.

Once she was alone on the terrace again, she stood and walked to the wall at the back, where they had planted night blooming jasmine. It was a scent she remembered from her childhood and had been pleased to discover that the climbing vines had thrived on the semi-arid world were she now lived.

She breathed deeply and tried to clear her mind, but couldn’t. For some reason, Riddick seemed closer than he had in a long time. She shook her head at her wild imagination. Between the fragrance from the jasmine and the spicy liquid in her mug, she would almost swear she could smell his delicious scent. Raising tear filled eyes to the stars, she smiled and whispered. “Merry Christmas, Richard, I miss you very much.” Then she took a sip of the warm cider and with a half smile she turned and went into the darkened inn.

Three feet away from where Carolyn had been standing, the shadows seemed to move, and a large man slipped out from behind a thick vine covered area. “Merry Christmas, Carolyn,” a deep voice whispered to the door the woman had just closed. “I miss you too, Babe, but that’s why you gotta think I’m dead.”

He was flooded with memories as he strode quietly out of the shadows. She was just as he had remembered, except her hair was longer and she was a bit thinner, if that was possible. He moved with stealth to the place where she’d been sitting and found her barrette on the table where she’d left it.

It had all started because of her hair. He could remember sitting in the shade of a long dead animal’s skull as he’d listened to her halting voice as she’d told a story that had twisted into his heart and had made him cut off a lock of her hair. She hadn’t known he was there then, as she hadn’t known he’d been watching her tonight.

With shaking fingers he reached for the delicate clip. It looked small in his large hand, but it was a piece of her, so he held it tightly for a moment as he listened to the quiet in the garden terrace and let memories flood him. Memories of her as she’d faced him down when he’d been chained in the ship. As he’d challenged her at every turn, but no matter what he’d done, to frighten her, she’d stood her ground. He’d known then that there was only one way things could be between them. He’d seen it in her eyes and heard it in her voice. What had surprised him was the strength of the passion that she’d ignited in him.

Standing in the dark, with her sleeping in a building that was only meters away, he let himself dream of all that they had shared in those few hours during the systems check. The way he’d teased and tested her, until she’d finally come screaming at him, her temper exploding between them. The fire in her eyes had met his passion head on and he had pulled her close and kissed her.
The second their lips had touched, a storm of feelings had taken control and for the first time in his life, he’d cared that the woman he was with felt as much pleasure as he did. She had been tiny and perfect beneath his hands and he’d teased and tormented her until she’d been a wild thing, clawing at him for release, but he hadn’t been easily swayed. He’d wanted to feel her soft skin against his and the taste of her lips as he’d kissed her again and again. Finally he’d relented a bit. As he’d trapped her legs between his, he’d arched her back so he’d been able to feast on first one velvety nipple then the other. He’d driven her to the edge, and then he’d pulled back as she’d writhed in passion beneath him.

He hadn’t given in until she’d been as ready for him as he’d been for her. Finally as she’d whimpered his name, he’d spread her legs and he’d filled her. She’d been sent over the edge on his first thrust. As she’d cried out his name again and again he’d driven deep into her small tight body. Three different times he’d felt a series of contractions as her inner muscles had danced in a rhythm as old as mankind. Her eyes had been swimming with tears as she’d whispered his name and had begged for more. He’d thrust harder and deeper than before. This time her contracts had been so intense that he’d exploded with her.
“Oh Babe!” He had whispered then and he whispered now. Though the night in Imam’s garden was cool, he was drenched in sweat. The fullness in his trousers was marked with each pulse beat, as he groaned and chuckled. “Oh God Carolyn, if just your memory can do this to me, it ain’t safe for me to be anywhere around you.”

His mind made up, he gripped the small hair clip and walked uncomfortably into the shadows, where he’d come from.

Chapter 2 - Realities Of The Present



Latest Month

September 2012


The moving finger writes: and having writ Moves on. nor all your piety nor wit Shall lure it back to cancal half a line, Nor all your tears wash out a word of it...The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam

If I quiet the voices in my head, I would face the day with nothing to write. - Unknown

I must go down to the seas again the lonely sea and sky...J Masefield

Cinderella walked on broken glass,
Sleeping beauty let a whole lifetime pass.
Belle fell in love with a hideous beast,
Jasmine married a common thief.
Ariel walked on land for love and life,
Snow white barely escaped a knife.
It was all about blood, sweat, and tears.
Because love means facing your biggest fears

The heart has its reasons that reason knows nothing of...French Proverb

I have drempt in my life dreams that have stayed with me ever after. They've gone through me like wine through water and altered the colour of my mind ...E. Bronte

To love someone deeply gives you strength. Being loved by someone deeply gives you courage...Lao Tzu

It takes chaos to give birth to a dancing star ..F. Nietzsche

How many loved your moments of glad grace, and loved your beauty with love false or true? But one man loved the pilgrim Soul in you, and loved the sorrows of your changing face...Yeats

Let us go, you and I, when the evening is spread out against the sky...T. S. Eliot

In that book which is my memory, on the first page of the chapter, that is the day when I first met you, appears the words, "here begins a new life".
La Vita Nuova

Midnight courage of the heart...Jen Kirkwood

The three o-clock in the morning courage which Bonaparte thought was the rarest...Thoreau

Did you say it? I love you; I don't ever want to live without you; you changed my life. Did you say it?
Make a plan, set a goal, work toward it, but every now and then, look around, drink it in, 'cause this is it. It might all be gone tomorrow. - Meredith Grey

Shakespeare is easy, life is hard...Wheels

Don't try to be a great man, just be a man. Let history make up its own mind...Z.Cochron

I had a job to do and I was unafraid...Jack to John Creighton

For I dipt into the future, as far as the human eye could see. Saw the vision of the world, and the wonders that can be...RWW Hipwell

Without diviation from the norm, progress is impossible...F. Zappa

The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea, In a beautiful pea-green boat: They took some honey and plenty of money, Wrapped up in a five-pound note. The Owl looked up to the stars above, and sang to a small guitar...E Lear

Sweet and low, sweet and low, Wind of the western sea, Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea! Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dying moon and blow, Blow him again to me;... Tennison

Charmed magic casements, opening on the foam
Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn... Keats

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