Legal Stuff: Sadly, I don't own Mortal Kombat or any of its characters. If I did, I'd probably be a great deal richer and never have to work again. That'd be kind of sweet. I might not own any Mortal Kombat characters, but Licon is well-and-truly a creature of my own creation.
This isn't my first Mortal Kombat fanfiction – but it is the first I've actually put on a website/shown anyone. Comments and suggestions are welcome – especially since I'm not sure what kind of story this'll be yet. I'd love to hear from people if they'd like particular characters involved in this. As for when it's set? I'm guessing a bit before the Deadly Alliance computer game.
Anyway, enjoy and I'll look forward to reading reviews, if I get any. :)
CHAPTER ONE
Outworld – it was such a dark, cloying place. It was as malevolent and sinister as hell and probably twice as dangerous. There was that mustiness to the air, that dank fetid smell that seemed totally characteristic of the realm. Across the arid land, something did stir, though. Someone, humanoid in shape if not in overall appearance, made their winding way to a huge building, forking out of the landscape. Even that massive palace itself was dark and hateful, as if the rocks themselves knew just who inhabited it.
The Emperor, Shao Khan.
It was a name that bred fear and apprehension in most who knew it. Those who had the misfortune of actually coming face-to-face with the Emperor himself and survived quickly found themselves in service to him. Baraka was one such servant – and had been for many years now. It undoubtedly confused him as to why he'd been called away from his Tarkatan forces spread around the huge realm to quell risings from the Edenians and several other scattered groups of people. The Emperor didn't much like people conspiring against him. His kind were 'employed' to prevent it.
So… what was all this about?
Across that hideous visage of his, a snarl formed, forced its way from his lipless mouth as a low growl. He was sick of being ordered around, sick of being forced to different areas of Outworld to pursue different vigilantes. It did grow very tedious. Night swirled about like some sort of veil, concealing his approach to the castle. That suited him fine – he always did like trying to sneak past the Shadow Priests despite the fact that it was normally a hopeless cause. Those strange creatures seemed to know the approach of almost anything that came within a mile of the palace. Really, it made sense if you thought about it. There wasn't a chance that they'd let just anyone near the Emperor. It was far easier to just kill anyone that got a little too close.
No matter, though. As his 6ft form slinked its way across the dilapidated, almost rustic, bridge that separated Khan's castle from the mainland, the guarding Priests shot him a look, remained as mute and still as ever, their eyes probing easily through the shadows. A greeting was grumbled to them through the murky haze of night, even though he expected no response. Well… they didn't prevent his entrance into the palace and so he supposed he was expected. He stepped past them, the toughened fabric of his red-and-black clothing rustling lightly as he did.
The palace doors were open, as ever. There was rarely a need to shut them with the kinds of guards this place used. Not just Shadow Priests, of course. Why would they be the only ones? Choice Centaurs and Shokan were also called on to guard the place. Then there was the Zittaran ninja, Reptile. He seemed rarely to stray from the Emperor's side. Reptile was a creep, though, such a slave to the Emperor and Shang Tsung that he no longer seemed to have a mind of his own. Everything was for the good of the Emperor, for the good of Outworld. Did the coward never consider just acting for himself now and again? He supposed not. That was what came when you were probably the last of a rapidly-depleting race. Survival of the creepiest.
A step past those huge doors, nevertheless. Into the cavernous hallway that led in a winding 'S' shape to the throne room where Shao Khan often spent the vast majority of his time when he wasn't participating in the overthrowing of some realm or other. There was no delaying to Baraka's pace, though. It wasn't wise to keep the Emperor waiting. He'd hastened to this godforsaken place as quickly as he could – and he'd like to learn just why he'd rushed all the way here.
Huge doors, this time closed, marked the entrance to the throne room itself. Outside stood a muscular Shokan. A weakling in comparison to the great Goro and Motaro… but formidable, nevertheless. That was the problem with that particular race – knocking one of the bastards down took forever and, sadly, they were usually going to get up again. Yet, at least his race were fortunate in some small degree. Although they weren't really looked all that favourably upon by the other races common in Outworld, they tended to be nomadic enough to not attract too much negative attention. Shokan were normally far more interested in pursuing that little spat they had going with the Centaur. The great four-armed, muscle-bound brute gave no more than a nod of a strangely draconic head, pushing the door open for him with the upper of his left arms.
And they called his kind freaks? Figures.
"Ah, Baraka. Took your time, didn't you?"
The voice, dark and malevolent, swept out to ensnare him, draw him into the elaborately-decorated, candlelit room before he could even think of not entering. The throne room hadn't changed an iota. There were still the gothic pillars adorning the place, useless in placement – just there to look big and foreboding, as far as he'd been able to gather. They didn't really support anything, just lined the way up to the velvet-cushioned throne that Khan perched on. As he stepped in, he noticed that, for once, it wasn't the usual castle wenches that loitered around Khan as they normally did. Instead, two men stood there – one on either side of him. One was easily recognisable as Reptile. There was the Liconer irritating smugness across his scaled-green face, as if he was in some way glad of the Emperor's snappy greeting. Those lizard-like eyes burrowed a hole straight through him, no doubt searching for weapons other than his ever-present blades – something that could count as treachery against Khan. Yes, the Zitarran would just love to see him thrown down into the pits for the rest of eternity – and the Emperor was by no means kind enough to simply kill him. No, the real game was to make you wish for death before granting it to you. That was far more fun – far more of a game. Baraka tore his glare away from the green-clad creature long enough to offer a respectful bow of his head to the Emperor.
"My… apologies… I wasn't nearby…"
He allowed his voice to just cut off. Khan really did hate rambling apologies. Besides, what did he have to apologise for, anyway? He hadn't been nearby and the journey had taken time. It was a miracle he'd made it this far in such a considerably short amount of time. He'd got Khan's message earlier this morning and what was it now? Evening-time? He hadn't made bad time at all.
The Emperor gave a rushed nod of his head, dark eyes glaring through the skull-helmet. It was a hideous trophy. There was no reason at all why it shouldn't actually have been fashioned from a real skull. Baraka had always wondered just who the unfortunate victim was? Must have been someone quite powerful to be fashioned into a piece of armour. Perhaps King Jerrod? Hmm. It was a possibility, he supposed. Nevertheless, Khan seemed excited enough for some probably hideous reason to overlook the time Baraka had taken for now – in order to introduce the other man at his side.
"Yes, yes. No matter. I called you here, Baraka, to introduce you to someone. Reptile's already had the pleasure of meeting him. He's going to help us capture the earth realm. I think I can bend the rules adequately enough to have him destroy Rayden's precious band of mortals and render the realm helpless. Best of all, there's absolutely nothing stopping him entering earth realm under his own power. No one need know that I was behind this. Baraka, meet Licon."
Baraka's cruel gaze turned to the other figure at Shao Khan's right. His first impression was that the creature was tall. He stood at least 9ft in height, easily the match of most Shokan. Yet, the being looked almost human. There was a sweep of long navy-blue hair, eternally dark eyes and a haunting expression on a completely pure-white face. There was just something implicitly wrong about the creature. Something that just didn't sit well with him. There was an odd power to him that seemed to radiate and throb around the place strangely, noticeably.
"…What… is he?"
The question couldn't be held back. This leather-armoured creature couldn't be of a race he'd encountered before. The resulting laugh from the Emperor certainly did little to calm his nerves. On the contrary, it chilled him to the bone. There was a plot going on here – and he got the unnerving feeling that he'd be dragged kicking and screaming into it.
"Just a demon. He's agreed very kindly to help me fulfil my objectives. You're going to take him to earth realm and show him who I want killed. Do you think you can handle that adequately enough, Baraka? If not, I'll strike it down as an instantaneous failure…"
Baraka shook his head, fangs baring in a near-smile. This could be interesting. He was being put in charge of a potentially very powerful demon and being allowed to run with it? It was absolutely perfect. He'd do as Khan suggested for now and later suggest the demon change alliances… or else, he'd accidentally lose him to Quan Chi and Shang Tsung. There were those little mutterings of those two forming an alliance behind the Emperor's back. All very promising possibilities. As for the demon himself? He remained slightly slumped, uncaring that he was in the presence of an Emperor, apparently. A slender eyebrow was quirked lightly, seemingly awaiting Baraka's response. Apparently curious of whether he'd actually dare put himself into this sort of danger. As for the acid ninja? Reptile continued to cast distrusting glances between Baraka and the demon. He could suit himself. Apparently, Reptile didn't have the intelligence to lead this demon anywhere. His loss, Baraka's gain.
"Of course, I'll do as you command, Emperor…"
Another respectful bow that served to hide the further widening smirk that threatened to break out across that Nosferatu-esque face of his. This would be one hell of a ride whichever way the tide turned.
Of course, one thing was certain: earth realm wouldn't know what hit it.
