Eyes In Darkness

Chapter 7

I froze, holding my breath.
The creature's tail swayed back and forth in the dark, glistening with black fluid. I didn't dare move. The air was thick with the smell of metal and something rotten.

Everything was fine—until Suleiman stumbled into the corridor.

The boy's flashlight beam jittered over the walls. Riddick's voice was a low growl.
"Don't move, kid. You've got terrible timing."

Another tail slid into view. Then another. The sound that followed was a shriek so sharp it made my bones ache.

Suleiman bolted.
"Wait—!" I tried to whisper, but it was too late.

The creatures dove. One slammed into him, dragging him off his feet, then another followed. The corridor filled with screaming.

Riddick's hand caught my arm. "Don't look."

I squeezed my eyes shut as the screaming turned to a sound I'll never forget—wet and tearing. Flesh and bone. Then silence.

We didn't move. Not until the tails shifted again, scraping the walls. One clipped a metal crate, sending it clattering to the floor. The crash made the creatures shriek again, and that was enough to make us run.

The corridor shook behind us as they gave chase. The air reeked of smoke and blood. My lungs burned by the time we spotted light ahead—a cutting torch. The rest of the group.

We were almost there when Johns turned toward the noise, flashlight in hand. The beam flashed directly across Riddick's face.

He hissed in pain and stumbled, half-falling into the pool of light. The creature lunged from behind, but Johns spun and fired, round after round. The thing screeched and crashed through a hole in the hull, vanishing into the dark outside.

Everyone stared at the jagged hole in shock.

I dropped to my knees beside Riddick, helping him sit up. "You okay?"

He blinked hard, muscles tense. "Fine. You?"

I nodded. He studied my face for a moment, then pulled me against his chest, one arm wrapping around me in a brief, steadying hug. The sound that came from him was low—almost a growl, almost a purr—and it made something inside me unclench for the first time all night.

The others finally started to move again. Imam's voice broke the silence, soft and trembling.
"Where is Suleiman?"

My throat closed. "He was taken," I whispered. "I'm so sorry, Imam."

He staggered, grief carving deep lines into his face. The boys clung to him, too scared to cry. Tears burned in my eyes. Suleiman had been like a nephew to me—I'd known him since he was born. Losing him felt like losing a piece of home.

And what terrified me most was knowing it could happen again.
That it probably would.

Ali. Jack. Hassan. I couldn't lose them too.

Before panic could take hold, Riddick's arms were around me again, solid and grounding. The rumble in his chest was low and steady, calming the tremor in my hands.

That moment shattered when Fry and Johns started arguing—shouting over each other, panic spilling out as anger.

Then Johns snapped. He yanked his shotgun up and leveled it at Fry's chest.