Hey all! I'm new to the fandom, after discovering how much I've missed playing Mortal Kombat over the years. I used to be a big fan of Kitana, but I recently just finished playing the Story Mode in MK9 and found out that I really love Mileena. I've got some weird pairings in mind for this fandom, but those will come at a later date.

This ficlet takes place during the end of the Story Mode in MK9.

I do not own Mortal Kombat.

Bloody Mary

Mileena had nowhere to turn to, it seemed. No one had accepted her like her father, Shao Kahn, had. But now that he was gone, the half-breed was all alone. She sat at her vanity in a silk, magenta nightgown; her black hair spilled just across her shoulders, golden eyes glaring back at her reflection. The clone still had her mask on, concealing her insecurity.

Quan-Chi had gone back to the Netherrealm, and anyone else with remarkable power was either dead or missing. It was all up to her now. Edenia and Outworld were both now hers and she didn't know what to do with these new titles. She had wanted to take the power. None of that mattered anymore; however, now that she was all alone.

The Half-Edenian Queen felt a growl deep in her throat. She glanced down at her bedroom floor, where Bakara's still body lay sprawled out from when she ended him just minutes before. Mileena feared that he would have gotten her first, had she not been quicker at the draw. Now she had yet another title, and not a clue what to do with it.

She had thought that, once she had all of these titles under her belt, that she would have everyone eating from the palm of her hands. But the truth was that they were all afraid of her. Sure, that meant that she could get whatever she wanted out of them, but it would never be genuine. If Kitana were still alive, those in Edenia and in the Outworld would live and die for her because of the respect that they had for her. Not the fear, like they had with Mileena. The hybrid now saw that.

Kitana had been compassionate, strong, and levelheaded. She had it all—beauty, brawn and brains. Mileena, on the other hand, was none of this. She was ruthless, maniac, and just plain evil. No handsome man would look at her and think she was beautiful, or majestic in any way. For she could only keep her mask on for so long, and when she finally removed it, there would be the most hideous teeth the hybrid had ever laid eyes on.

Mileena hissed as she ripped the mask off of her face. She slowly glanced back up at the mirror, preparing herself for the worst. Her golden eyes wavered back and forth, studying the reflection before her.

How could anyone love someone who looked like this? The hybrid Queen thought to herself. She could rule Edenia, she could rule the Outworld, but she would always be lonely. It had never occurred to her just how much her father's approval meant to her. He taught her that evil was good. She was made from evil sorcery for crying out loud. Evil was all that she knew, and all that left her was a big void in her heart.

Mileena soon grew tired of looking at her own reflection. She slid her chair back and punched her fist right through her mirror. The shards of glass fell out onto the vanity, and shattered across the floor. She glanced down at her bloody hand, flexing her skinny fingers with a solid frown in place.

She had a thirst for blood. One that could not so easily be tamed. Whenever she sparred, she looked forward to bathing in the blood of her opponent. She let her fists fly and took in every square ounce of pleasure from her fight. The cries of pain, the distinct sound of bones crushing—it was all like music to Mileena's ears. The hybrid felt an odd smile stretch across her face. All she wanted was playmates to dance with, was that too much to ask for?

Mileena's smile was short-lived, however, when she realized that maybe there really was no help for her.

No one will ever love a freak. Here she was, destined to spend many a millennia by herself. Where there was no Kitana to get to know, and no father to praise her in everything that she did.

There was just a lonely heir, afraid of her own reflection. And a lonely heir, that would rather die than admit that out loud.

And I'll end it here. What did ya'll think of this drabble? Reviews are loved!