Can You Live Forever

Can You Live Forever

Author's Note: This story takes place before EPI.

DISCLAIMER: As always the characters of Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon Jinn, Yoda, Darth Maul and any others used belong to George Lucas and Lucasfilm LTD. Who ever owns Highlander and or their likeness here is your dues, you own them, not me. NO copyright infringement is intended by this. It was all in good fun. Enjoy and let me know what you think. =)

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The highlander crouched in the shadows. The alley he was in was cold, dark and wet. The smell of urine and rotting food filled the air. A light mist of fog hung heavy as well, adding to the atmosphere's eerieness. There were few street lights in this area, creating a perfect hiding place.

As he looked out, the shadows seemed to move in the fog, creating forms that danced around, swirling with the gentle breeze. It was quiet here, only the sound of the rats scurrying about could be heard. He could also hear his own heart beat, thumping quickly in his chest. He was waiting, waiting for his adversary, waiting for his battle.

He had thought the man he was waiting for was dead, killed many years ago by his sword, but somehow, someway, he had returned, to finish the battle. It was told that an immortal could return to life, if called upon by another. So who called the man back and why? But the highlander needed to worry about that later, the battle will soon begin.

He could feel his adversary coming. All immortals could. A sensation of knowing was felt in his body, the man was close by. However, something else was in the air. An eerie feeling, an evil feeling, one he had never felt the likes of before.

This evil seemed to travel with the fog, dancing around it, through it, seeking out its prey. It traveled through the boxes, through the street, then to his body. He felt it immediately. It pulsed up through his body, gently at first, filling him with excitement of its arrival. Like gentle fingers, it moved up his body, caressing it as it went.
He could fill his own heart beat more quickly. He took in a sharp breath as he felt the evil penetrate his very being, gripping at his heart with its cold fingers. It wrapped around his heart, chilling his body. He shivered from it, but he wasn't sure if it was from excitement and pleasure or anger and fear.

Then he heard it. Foot steps. They echoed in the alley. They were steady, confident in fact. Was this his adversary coming to meet him, or was it the source of this evil that was wrapping itself around him.

As he peered into the darkness he saw the form approaching. It kept looking behind itself, as if looking for something else. The blond haired man turned, knowing the highlander was near by, he could feel him but also... something else. Throwing his trench coat aside, he produced his sword. It was a finely crafted sword, one the Vikings used many years ago. It was heavy as well, but this blond haired adversary had the strength to wield it. He was tall, muscular and his eyes held a fierce stare.

As he started to draw closer to the highlander's hiding spot, the highlander started to move but heard another noise. He stopped, remaining in his hiding place. He heard other foot steps. These were more eerie than his advisory's. They were sure steps that echoed in the alley. They were confident, more so then the previous, steady and evil. A blade was being dragged. The metal to concrete sound echoed in both the men's ears. They both looked into the fog.

The fog seemed to whirl as if parting for the other. Then out into the light stepped a dark robed figure, holding a sword tip to the ground. It stopped and raised it's head. The two men gasped in unison. There before them stood pure evil in its truest form. It was like none they had ever seen.

The black robed figure smiled, revealing his evil grin. Then slowly the rest of the face was exposed as the black robed figure lowered it's hood. A man, so they thought, stood before them. He was dressed in black robes and had a belt about his wait. On this belt hung a large metal device the two had never seen the likes of. His hand clinched a sword, a samurai sword, made of black ivory. His face was tattooed with black and red markings all over and small horns protruded from his shaved head. But his eyes were the worst. The tattooed man starred at the blond haired man through yellow-red eyes. They held a glee of evil. Those eyes seemed to penetrate the darkness, as if it was a part of it, and into the blond man's body.

The tattooed man threw his robe off and stood ready. Then, with a simple wave of his hand, he motioned for the blond haired man to come at him. He wanted a battle.

The highlander knew the blond haired man, this man had been hunting him for years. He never backed away from a battle and never lost either. The highlander thought this blond haired man was the epitome of evil, till now.

He watched as the blond haired man simply smiled and nodded. "Today seems like a good day to die, my friend, I hope you are prepared," he said as a confident smile curled upon his lips.

"Then today, my friend..., you shall die," the tattooed man answered in a low growl. His hand clutched the sword handle, eager but patient, waiting for the blond haired man to make the first move. Then in a strange move, he lowered the sword, leaving himself open. The highlander felt this battle would not last long.

The tattooed man looked young, inexperienced with the sword in his hand. But the highlander learned in his long life time, looks can be deceiving.

The blond man lunged at the other with vicious blows, jabbing and slicing through the air as he drove the other back. But the tattooed man blocked each one easily and seemingly with little effort. They moved down the alley further away. The echoes of the blades meeting rang out like shots. The highlander followed, still hiding as he went.

The two moved into the street, blades clashing. The blond immortal seemed to have the upper hand till in a quick move, the tattooed man's blade raked across the immortal's chest. The blond haired man staggered back. He was surprised at this advisory's quickness. He looked down at the blood that was dripping out, it wasn't bad, a mere graze, a precise graze, the blade could have gone deeper. He looked up at the tattooed face, seeing a smile upon it. Who was this stranger? He wasn't an immortal that he knew, but he fought with the skills of one.

He switched blade hands, knowing now he couldn't toy with this man. He thought at first he could, so he used his non-fighting hand. But this man was skilled and wearing him down. His other arm ached from the harsh blows he brought on the tattooed man. Now he would show him a real battle.

The immortal lunged at the tattooed man again, but instead of driving him back, the tattooed man barely moved. Blocking each move with quickness and skill. They locked blades and looked into each others eyes. A smile still remained on the tattooed man's face and he never even broke a sweat. His breathing was calm and steady as if he had just walked up. His eyes glittered with the darkness of evil.

The immortal's eyes went wide as if he had just realized he was looking into the true face of death. He pushed the other man back and lunged at him in desperation, desperation to live.

The tattooed man jumped up in the air and somersaulted backwards and landed skillfully on his feet. Then, again jumping, he somersaulted over the immortal and sliced his back wide open. A killing blow.

The immortal fell to the ground with shock on his face. The pain was fierce and intense. He heard the laughter of the other man ringing in his ears. He closed his eyes, expecting the next sounds he would hear was that of his head being taken. To his surprise, it didn't happen. The sound of the tattooed man's boots were only heard as he moved away.

The healing was already beginning. He felt the skin closing, healing. The soreness was fading. He stood and smiled. He was not beaten. Perhaps his adversary did not know how to kill an immortal. He stood, and like his adversary had done earlier, he dragged the sword tip on the ground.

The tattooed man stopped, hearing the sound. A smile crept across his lips again. Then a laughter rang out. Just as the immortal swung to hit him, the tattooed man held the sword up behind him blocking the blow. He spun quickly, slicing at the figure attacking him.

The battle continued. The clashing of the swords echoed in the highlander's ears. Every once in a while it was broken by a grunt from the two men. The highlander watched from his hiding place. The two's shadows dance on the walls till the tattooed man nearly found his target.

The tattooed man saw the fear in the immortal's eyes as the blade grazed his neck. He had found it. The weak point. He hated to end this battle. He was having fun, toying with this man and his insignificant sword fighting. He preferred his sword much better, the power it sent through him each time he wielded it.

He stopped in a sudden move and the immortal stopped as well, gasping for air. What was this stranger up to? Then in a surprising move, the tattooed man discarded his sword..., smiling. Was he giving up? If so, his death would be pleasurable to the immortal. Though he wouldn't get a quickening from this mere mortal, he would still have the human pleasure of taking his head. Perhaps he would keep this one's head, as a prize of his victory.

The tattooed man's smile seemed to get wider, eviler. The tattooed man took the large metal cylinder from his belt. He held it out for the immortal to inspect. It was indeed long but simple looking. It held two red buttons, one on each end.

The highlander did not like this, he could feel something was up. The evil darkness he had felt earlier had tightened around his heart and sent chills through his body. He shivered from his hiding place. He too was looking at death.

The tattooed man touched one of the buttons. From one of the ends, a red light blade sprang to life, humming its evil. The immortal forrowed his brow. What was this... this thing he was holding, a light? Then another sprung from the other end joining the other's song. The tattooed man, twirled it around in the air, sending its eerie song into the air before coming to rest, "Now, play time is over," the tattooed man breathed.
He swung the red glowing rods at the immortal and as the man stepped back he felt the red hot heat of the red blades sear his skin. He looked down. It not only cut his chest but burned it as well. The smell of burnt flesh rose up into the immortal's nostrils, making him nauseous. Fear began to rise in him, he wasn't healing quickly.

The immortal looked up at the evil face that was advancing on him. He backed away and as the other end of the red blades came at him, he tried to block it with his sword. The sword fell into two pieces, neatly cut through. The immortal starred at the remaining piece in his hand with disbelief. A red light that cuts? He looked up into the yellow-red eyes of the tattooed man. He saw his own death.

As the highlander looked on, he saw the double red blades quickly flash before the immortals face, not touching him. The immortal turned to run, he wanted to live to fight another day. But he was held fast, high in the air. He looked down as he dropped his sword and saw he was three feet from the ground. He looked over his shoulder and followed the tattooed man as he walked calmly around to face him.

He was smiling. "Remember this name, remember it for all time, especially in your death. I want you to know who killed you..., I am evil..., I am the Lord of Darkness..., I am... Darth Maul." With those words he brought his red blades in two swift and killing moves. One sliced the immortal at the waist, separating his upper body from his bottom, then the second was his head. The tattooed man watched as the body fell lifeless to the ground and the head rolled to his feet. He looked towards the highlander.

The body of the immortal withered about, bulking as energy bolt lept from the body, creeping across the ground. Darth Maul watched as they danced around him then moved on, seeking something... someone out.

The highlander gasped, fearing he was next. He didn't move though..., he couldn't. The coldness of the evil gripped at him, holding him in place. The Quickening dived at the highlander pulsing through him. He screamed as the energy surrounded him. Lights that were around began to burst along with the glass. The power was so great it jolted the highlanders body.

Darth Maul stood watching, these men were different, not like the mere humans he had encountered, they were special. He watched patiently, feeling his own energy wrap around him like a comforting blanket. It caressed him, soothed him.

When the show ended, Darth Maul stood silent, watching as the highlander fell to the ground, he appeared exhausted, weak, vunerable. The evil within Darth Maul reached out to the highlander, wrapping again around his heart, chilling him. The highlander met Darth Maul's evil yellow-red eyes, he feared his own death was near.

But Darth Maul laughed softly then kicked the head towards the highlander, "Another day..., another day." He walked away calmly, grabbing his robe as he left.

The highlander let out his breath as he looked down at the head and now dead immortal. Darth Maul took no quickening..., only pleasure in this death. He was the darkness the highlander had been feeling..., the cold..., the fearlessness. He was evil, pure and true. This Darth Maul had let him live..., but for how long.

Fin