Categories > Movies > Pitch Black > Onyx
Ch. 2
disclaimer: You know I don't own Pitch Black/Chronicles of Riddick. I do own Ryn Starbringer.
a/n: I guess I'll continue with this. See how far this fic goes.
warnings: violence, language, AU
Zhylaw looked over the breeders that had submitted to him in contempt and mild disgust. They knew nothing of the glory of The Underverse! Yet, they gave in so quickly and practically demanded to be converted and purified!
He should rethink converting any of these weak-willed breeders.
But he lost his chance to rethink things when the heavy double-doors of the Council Hall flew open and crashed against the stone walls. The doors had flew open with enough force to nearly send them flying off their hinges.
What forced the doors open with such brute strength?
It was the wolf-creature. She stood on all fours on the over hanging floor that looked down into the Colloseum-like room. Her fur was so soaked with blood that it seemed to flow off her in rivers. Her fangs were bared and stained red with blood. Her ears were laid flat against her skull. She was staring down into the pit with insane, bloodthirsty, jade green eyes.
The Necromonger troopers that were near the double-doors slowly backed away from the snarling beast. They didn't want the deadly attention of the blood-soaked creature on them. Luckily, her focus wasn't on them. Her main and only interest was vengance on the Valtarians. But the Necromongers didn't know that little factoid.
"We're going to be converted!" cried the one called Prince Kien, "That means you have to protect us from her!"
His little speech caused discontent amongst the Necromonger unit. They didn't want to get in the middle of her vendetta against the Valtarians.
"I wouldn't if I were you." she spoke, her mouth barely moved and her words were followed by quiet rumblings, "I have no quarrel with you or your people, strange one. My business is with the people you came to conquer. So don't attempt to stand between me and MY PREY!"
She ended with a roaring-howl that shook the foundations of the Council building. She stood on her massive back paws; and the blood not her own was pooled around her paws.
Zhylaw looked at the sniveling filth at his feet, then back a the wolf-creature, who seemed much bigger than before. Must be because she was in an enclosed building and not 300 yards away.
Her head was the size of Irgun's chest. Her mouth was big enough to bite six heads off at the same time. Her clawed, furry hands could completely engulf a man's head and the fingers would slightly overlap.
"You have my permission to do as like with these breeders," Zhylaw said to her in an over-permissive and superior tone.
"I don't need your fucking permission!" She growled, "You are not my master. You'll never be my master! I bow to no one, strange one! So don't assume that you can order me about!"
With that said, she jumped into the pit... right onto one of the royalty of Valtar.
The prince had no chance; not even to scream. She had taken his head with one mighty swipe of her clawed hand. His blood spewed from his neck like a fountain, soaking her once again in the blood of a Valtarian.
Zhylaw, his Purifier, and Necromongers withdrew from the pit. They stood one the surrounding over-hanging floor and watched the wolf-creature.
The Royal Valtarians that were kneeling next to her first victim could do nothing but stare in horrified shock as their own deaths came to them. The rest of the Valtarians snapped out of their horror induce trance quickly. Most tried to escape, but they were pounced upon like the prey they were. Some, brave fools, tried to fight her only to get disemboweled by her claws before they could even try.
The wolf-creature had wrecked mayhelm and stood in surrounded by the carnage she caused. All the royal bastards were dead. The floor of the pit was completely covered by the corpses of the hundred and fifty Valtarian of royal blood.
The insane rage that had driven her had withered and died. All that was left was the bloodlust, which was slowly dying.
She looked up, directly at Zhylaw. Her eyes showed the rapidly cooling flames of her thirst for blood. She walked towards him, climbing the steps. Her eyes deadlocked with his.
"Strange one," she rumbled as she stopped on the two steps from the landing, "Take me from this wretched planet."
Zhylaw was affronted, this breeder dared to order him! He was the Lord Marshal! He was the Holy Half-dead! "You dare order me! I should have you killed!"
An amused smile, or what seemed to be a smile, appeared on her muzzle, "I would kill you as quickly and as easily as I killed them. Your guards...your army can't stop me. Hell, they won't even be able to kill me, much-less try to anyway."
She went up a step and towered over the Lord Marshal, "As I said before, take me from this place. And I won't slaughter the whole lot of ya. Consider this an overture of a truce."
"Only if you conver..."
Zhylaw found himself dangling three feet in the air. Her right clawed hand was around his throat, keeping him from touching the floor. He didn't even see her move. His Necromongers wouldn't have enough time to stop her before she crushed his neck. He could feel the strength in those fingers. He was amazed over the precise control she had. Her grip on his neck was firm enough to keep him from slipping, but delicate enough not to accidentally injure him.
She was obviously letting him know that if she wanted to hurt or kill him it would not be accidental. It would be intentional.
The wolf creature got in his face and snarled, "No converting. No purifying. And no trying to control this one! Think of me as a honored guest."
In a show of good will, she set him back down on his feet. He waved off his troops, in his own show of good will. "I welcome you, honored guest." he said politely, "If you would follow me to the Basilica."
"Lead the way, strange one."
"It's Zhylaw, honored guest."
"Lead the way, Zhylaw. And it's Ryn..Ryn Starbringer."
------------(tbc...)---------------
a/n: I hate trying to describe buildings. The Council building is kind like the one they showed in Chronicles of Riddick. And Irgun was the Necro with the knife in his back.
Chapters 3-6 are up on my lj. I don't think I'll continue posting this story here.
Wulf: Happy, Ryn?
Ryn: Very... Now get to the next chapter!
Wulf: groans and falls over
disclaimer: You know I don't own Pitch Black/Chronicles of Riddick. I do own Ryn Starbringer.
a/n: I guess I'll continue with this. See how far this fic goes.
warnings: violence, language, AU
Zhylaw looked over the breeders that had submitted to him in contempt and mild disgust. They knew nothing of the glory of The Underverse! Yet, they gave in so quickly and practically demanded to be converted and purified!
He should rethink converting any of these weak-willed breeders.
But he lost his chance to rethink things when the heavy double-doors of the Council Hall flew open and crashed against the stone walls. The doors had flew open with enough force to nearly send them flying off their hinges.
What forced the doors open with such brute strength?
It was the wolf-creature. She stood on all fours on the over hanging floor that looked down into the Colloseum-like room. Her fur was so soaked with blood that it seemed to flow off her in rivers. Her fangs were bared and stained red with blood. Her ears were laid flat against her skull. She was staring down into the pit with insane, bloodthirsty, jade green eyes.
The Necromonger troopers that were near the double-doors slowly backed away from the snarling beast. They didn't want the deadly attention of the blood-soaked creature on them. Luckily, her focus wasn't on them. Her main and only interest was vengance on the Valtarians. But the Necromongers didn't know that little factoid.
"We're going to be converted!" cried the one called Prince Kien, "That means you have to protect us from her!"
His little speech caused discontent amongst the Necromonger unit. They didn't want to get in the middle of her vendetta against the Valtarians.
"I wouldn't if I were you." she spoke, her mouth barely moved and her words were followed by quiet rumblings, "I have no quarrel with you or your people, strange one. My business is with the people you came to conquer. So don't attempt to stand between me and MY PREY!"
She ended with a roaring-howl that shook the foundations of the Council building. She stood on her massive back paws; and the blood not her own was pooled around her paws.
Zhylaw looked at the sniveling filth at his feet, then back a the wolf-creature, who seemed much bigger than before. Must be because she was in an enclosed building and not 300 yards away.
Her head was the size of Irgun's chest. Her mouth was big enough to bite six heads off at the same time. Her clawed, furry hands could completely engulf a man's head and the fingers would slightly overlap.
"You have my permission to do as like with these breeders," Zhylaw said to her in an over-permissive and superior tone.
"I don't need your fucking permission!" She growled, "You are not my master. You'll never be my master! I bow to no one, strange one! So don't assume that you can order me about!"
With that said, she jumped into the pit... right onto one of the royalty of Valtar.
The prince had no chance; not even to scream. She had taken his head with one mighty swipe of her clawed hand. His blood spewed from his neck like a fountain, soaking her once again in the blood of a Valtarian.
Zhylaw, his Purifier, and Necromongers withdrew from the pit. They stood one the surrounding over-hanging floor and watched the wolf-creature.
The Royal Valtarians that were kneeling next to her first victim could do nothing but stare in horrified shock as their own deaths came to them. The rest of the Valtarians snapped out of their horror induce trance quickly. Most tried to escape, but they were pounced upon like the prey they were. Some, brave fools, tried to fight her only to get disemboweled by her claws before they could even try.
The wolf-creature had wrecked mayhelm and stood in surrounded by the carnage she caused. All the royal bastards were dead. The floor of the pit was completely covered by the corpses of the hundred and fifty Valtarian of royal blood.
The insane rage that had driven her had withered and died. All that was left was the bloodlust, which was slowly dying.
She looked up, directly at Zhylaw. Her eyes showed the rapidly cooling flames of her thirst for blood. She walked towards him, climbing the steps. Her eyes deadlocked with his.
"Strange one," she rumbled as she stopped on the two steps from the landing, "Take me from this wretched planet."
Zhylaw was affronted, this breeder dared to order him! He was the Lord Marshal! He was the Holy Half-dead! "You dare order me! I should have you killed!"
An amused smile, or what seemed to be a smile, appeared on her muzzle, "I would kill you as quickly and as easily as I killed them. Your guards...your army can't stop me. Hell, they won't even be able to kill me, much-less try to anyway."
She went up a step and towered over the Lord Marshal, "As I said before, take me from this place. And I won't slaughter the whole lot of ya. Consider this an overture of a truce."
"Only if you conver..."
Zhylaw found himself dangling three feet in the air. Her right clawed hand was around his throat, keeping him from touching the floor. He didn't even see her move. His Necromongers wouldn't have enough time to stop her before she crushed his neck. He could feel the strength in those fingers. He was amazed over the precise control she had. Her grip on his neck was firm enough to keep him from slipping, but delicate enough not to accidentally injure him.
She was obviously letting him know that if she wanted to hurt or kill him it would not be accidental. It would be intentional.
The wolf creature got in his face and snarled, "No converting. No purifying. And no trying to control this one! Think of me as a honored guest."
In a show of good will, she set him back down on his feet. He waved off his troops, in his own show of good will. "I welcome you, honored guest." he said politely, "If you would follow me to the Basilica."
"Lead the way, strange one."
"It's Zhylaw, honored guest."
"Lead the way, Zhylaw. And it's Ryn..Ryn Starbringer."
------------(tbc...)---------------
a/n: I hate trying to describe buildings. The Council building is kind like the one they showed in Chronicles of Riddick. And Irgun was the Necro with the knife in his back.
Chapters 3-6 are up on my lj. I don't think I'll continue posting this story here.
Wulf: Happy, Ryn?
Ryn: Very... Now get to the next chapter!
Wulf: groans and falls over
Sign up to rate and review this story