Pitch Black Cyn

Leaning back against a wall, away from the light, Cyn listened to the group’s panic as Al rested against her side.

Fear was thick in the air, a familiar cologne that usually signaled the beginning of a meal.

Keeping herself from salivating, mainly because Al would most likely elbow her in the kidney, Cyn tuned into the conversation once more.

“Remember that bone yard? These must be the f***ers that killed every other living thing on this planet.” Johns voiced, trying to sound tough.

It rang hollow to Al’s ears.

“I saw the cut-marks on the bones. Wasn’t a natural die-off.” Fry agreed.

“Quiet, please. Everyone.”

Cyn could hear the creatures just fine from where she was, and decided not to crowd around Imam like some of the others.

“Why do they do that? Make that sound?” Jack whispered.

“It’s how they see.”

They all looked towards Al, who rolled her eyes behind the visor and untied the bandana from her ears.

Now that the sonar had nothing to echo off of, it wasn’t nearly as painful.

“Why do you think I had my ears covered? Both of our species’ use echolocation.”

Johns eyes narrowed, as if he vaguely recognized her from somewhere, and she nearly snorted.

It was about time he did…

Clicking echoing off metal caught everyone’s attention viciously, and they swung around to see an empty corridor.

“Breach in the hull, maybe.” Fry voiced, hands tight on a flashlight.

The clicking grew louder, and all eyes landed on Johns. …

“I’d rather piss glass.”

“Well, you got the big gauge.” Riddick needled.

“Wanna rag your fat mouth?”

“Maybe it’s just their beads again.” Jack hoped, clinging to Cyn’s arm.

“Imam, are you still-?”

“No, no, no, I do not believe-.”

“C’mon man, you’re driving everybody bugf*** with those things. Why don’t you just lose the goddamn-?”

Something fell heavily in the darkness, making Al’s ears twitch sharply and Cyn’s claws to unsheathe themselves.

“Big beads.” Riddick noted.

Johns gathered his wits enough to go towards the open container, and Cyn followed his progress with glow cat’s eyes.

A few shotgun rounds later, the merc had turned back around, ready to assure them that the threat was gone-

The massive predator was close, too close for anyone’s comfort, and her tail-blades flew to full-mast immediately.

“Very big beads.” Johns agreed, back with the group and the safety their light offered.

“Not staying in here another-!”

Paris’ panic attack was cut off when Al tripped him on the man’s way to the main door, where he would have opened the portal to Hell.

“Christ, you don’t know what’s out there!” Fry shouted, pulling the antiquities dealer back.

“I know what’s in here!”

“Everybody, come. This way, and we should be safe. Hurry, please.”

Imam quickly herded everyone into a container, where they all huddled together, listening to the monsters outside.

The light from a cutting torch made Cyn hiss, pupils shrinking to slits as she covered them, and Al grit her teeth in pain.

Now they could see the creature’s blade-like hands trying to break through the door, and Jack clung to Cyn resolutely now.

“Can you do something else with that? ‘Sides holding it in my f***ing face?” Riddick growled, eyes sensitive to the light even with his goggles.

Thankfully, the merc took the hint and began to cut through to another container.

Once the hole was made, Cyn shoved Jack through first, and the group followed quickly, blocking the hole just as their old hiding spot was filled with predators.

This went on for about four more containers before Al realized something was wrong.

Ears twitching, she stared into the darkness, pushing up her visor.

Cyn noticed immediately, moving away from the light with the grace of any hunting cat.

“…This is the open container.”

Nodding, Al slipped the shiv out from between her breasts as Cyn’s tail-blades waved in the air threateningly.

“Stay here.”

Both turned to Riddick, not happy about the implications.

“Riddick-.”

“How long do you think Jack’ll last without you there to hold her hand?”

Cyn’s mouth snapped shut, knowing the answer but not wanting to admit it.

Letting out a defeated breath, Al slipped her shiv away and headed back towards the group.

“Don’t get yourself killed.”

“Yeah, who else would agree to sleep with her?”

BAM!

“OW! Where’d you get that rock?!”

Grumbling as Riddick chuckled, walking past her into the darkness, Cyn turned her head to follow him.

“…Hey.”

When he paused, a serious expression crossed her face like a shadow.

“We mean it. Don’t make us go after you.”

The slightest of nods was her only answer, and Cyn watched the convict walk away before turning to head for the group.

Sitting on a crate near the edge of the light, Al scanned the immediate area warily, eyes shining when light hit them.

Though she was blind most of the time, and forced to rely on echolocation, her eyesight was rather good in the dark.

Johns had just finished cutting through to the next container, and Cyn walked up to make sure the coast was truly clear this time.

Peering into the darkness beyond, she took a deep breath through her nose.

Finding no predators laying in wait, she motioned for Jack to go through first.

Fry and Johns follow, though not before Ali and one of the other boys got through.

Turning towards Al, Cyn quirked an eyebrow in question.

Shaking her head, Al returned her attention to the darkness before her ear twitched sharply in surprise.

The quick flicker of her eyes over the remaining group put Cyn on-edge, and she did the same.

‘Wait…Didn’t Imam come with THREE boys?’

Heartbeat accelerating, Cyn whipped around at the sudden absence of sonar-clicks.

‘That’s probably not good…’

Fry pulled herself back in just as a scream cut through the air, and the predator in Cyn recognized the smell of freshly-spilt blood.

Moving forward without a second thought, she grabbed the flashlight from her belt and turned it on.

Al’s sudden movement had her lower it before Riddick turned the corner in a hurry, not blinding his light-sensitive eyes.

Seeing movement behind the convict, Cyn brought it up to hopefully blind the creature, ready to go for the throat.

It shrieked though, flailing in an attempt to escape, and the smell of burning flesh reached the cat-girl’s nose.

‘Light HURTS.’

Dropping the flashlight so it still pointed at her prey, Cyn lunged, sinking her teeth into the vulnerable throat and ripping right through the arteries.

Once it stopped moving, she ripped the flesh free and chewed thoughtfully.

‘They all taste like beef jerky…’

Looking over her shoulder at the stunned humans, she wiped the blue blood off her mouth with the back of her hand.

“What?”

Fry looked away first, disturbed with the image of childish, talkative Cyn eating the dead creature like an animal.

Sweeping the light of her flashlight over the carcass, she paused at the sight of its skin blistering under the beam.

“JESUS…” Shazza voiced.

“Like the light is scalding them.” Paris agreed.

“It hurts them. Light actually hurts them…”

The sounds of two creatures fighting caught their attention, and Cyn slipped off her prey’s body as Imam looked towards Riddick.

“Is that…Hasan?”

The convict only nodded, and Cyn closed her eyes.

She hated when children died…

“We’ll burn a candle for him later. C’mon.”

Fighting down the urge to bite down on Johns’ throat, the cat-girl tried to ignore him.

‘Stupid frickin’ mercs…’

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Huddled around Fry’s flashlight, the group looked like frightened rabbits, glancing around at the shadows as if expecting to be eaten by wolves at any moment.

Cyn hated it when she wasn’t the cause of such fear…

“One cutting torch…two hand lights, two more in the cabin…I think two more…” Fry listed out loud.

“Spirits. Anything over 45 proof burns pretty well.” Paris offered.

“How many bottles?”

“Not sure. Ten?”

“Those umbrellas, the ones that mist. Would they burn?”

It was as if she could read the man’s mind.

“If you got a receipt?”

“Possibly.”

“Alright, so maybe we’ve got enough light.”

“Enough for what?” Johns demanded.

Rolling her eyes in the shadows, Al leaned forward with a harsh scoff.

“What do you think, Johns? A tea party? Some people aren’t willing to wait here for death to eat the meat off their bones.”

“And you call yourself a human being.” Cyn agreed, snorting.

“We can stick to the plan. If we get four cells back to the skiff, we’re off this rock.”

“I hate to kill a beautiful theory with an ugly fact, but that Sand-Cat won’t run at night.” Paris voiced pessimistically.

“We’ll have to carry the cells, drag them, whatever it takes.”

Cyn couldn’t help but be impressed by their ‘captain’s’ fierce survival instinct, and shared a look with Al.

Perhaps she’d survive to the end after all…

“You mean tonight? With all those things still out there?” Jack whimpered, causing Cyn to instinctively wrap an arm around the runaway’s shoulders.

“Oh, sure. Why not? Sounds like a hoot!” Paris grumbled.

“Back it up. How long can this last? Few minutes? Couple hours?” Johns voiced.

“Months.”

All eyes snapped to Al, who quirked an eyebrow at their confusion.

“It said so, when you first found out about the eclipse. Moving it in either direction showed that the planet is moving in time with this one.”

“So there goes your plan for waiting it out, genius.”

“Look, we gotta think about everyone now, the kid especially. How scared is she gonna be out there?”

Growling, Cyn stood up in her indignant rage, leaving Al to comfort Jack for the moment.

“What kind of MAN uses a kid to hide his fears, Johns?”

“You little-!” He shouted, beginning to stand.

“If you’re about to shit your pants, at least grow a pair and admit it.” She snarled lowly, claws unsheathed.

“What, because the cannibal’s grown a heart?” Johns scoffed, getting into her personal space.

Bad idea.

The humans went still, eyes wide at this new information, and Al closed her eyes in anger.

‘DAMN IT, Johns…’

“That’s right, these two are some of the worst convicts to ever grace a triple-max prison. The Cat and the Bat.”

Cyn’s fists were clenched so tightly that blood was dripping from in-between her fingers, pupils turned to mere slits in her rage.

It was telling her to kill him slowly, to gouge out the merc’s eyes and gut him alive before tearing his life away with her teeth-

“Did I make the little kitty angry?” Johns needled.

Cyn’s vision went red.

“CYN!”

When reality seeped back in, Cyn was holding the merc up by his throat, her claws threatening to pierce the arteries on both sides of his neck.

Looking over her shoulder, she saw Jack’s frightened face, and all of the rage just melted out of her.

Dropping Johns carelessly to the floor, she turned back to the child and pat her head in apology.

As Johns got back to his feet, Imam turned towards Fry in concern.

“Are you certain you can find the way back? Even in the dark?”

“No, I’m not. But THEY can.”

Cyn looked over her shoulder to see the group staring at the three convicts.

“…Why do I get the feeling this isn’t going to end well?”