PROLOGUE THE ULTIMATE XIII DRAFT 1
Heavy breathing…
Loud chanting…
A sinister laugh…
'Where am I?' was all the man could think of. His eyes closed, concentrating on restoring his own breathing pattern.
Something clamps around his throat as his neck is squeezed causing him to cough excessively. He opens his eyes to find a golden ring of amber in a pair of eyes staring down at him. Unable to breath normally the world around him becomes darker. All of the thoughts in his head slowly die down as a sickingly, evil grin appears on the other man's face.
Then Fear.
As his consciousness fades away he remembers what is happening. He is in an arena, the massive crowd that surrounds the fighting grounds chant louder and louder… Yet he can't quite make out what their saying.
The man grinning at him and chocking him to near death is his opponent. 'Was' his opponent he thought, as the grim fate of him surface. He knew he was losing… going to lose. Yet in this game the loser doesn't get to go home to try again someday. The loser didn't get to go home to see his family again.
Because in this fight,
In this tournament,
The loser will die.
Silent tears form under his eyes and run down his cheeks as the man before him raises his hand above them. A red beam of energy materializing out from the hand of the amber-eyed man. As the choking man looks upon in fear, only one picture floods into his mind. The chanting of the crowd growing louder and louder soon fades from his thoughts. Even the fear of knowing of his soon-to-be untimely death didn't plague him.
The red beam moves downward towards the choking man.
He thinks about the face in his mind.
The beam moves closer.
'I'm sorry for failing you…'
The beam is almost upon him.
'I'm sorry for leaving you now…'
The amber-eyed man grins sadistically as he approaches the kill and yells, "NOW YOU DIE!"
The beam moves much faster, inches from the neck, and inches from taking a life.
'Take care of your mother…'
The beam connects with the outermost layer of the mans skin, burning some of the tiny hairs on his neck. The beam then slices cleanly into the neck of the man, just after his last dieing thought.
'I'm sorry…Sora'