A/N Right now, I have eight chapters planned for this story, two for each POV. This might end up being increased, depending on circumstances and my writing pace. Please enjoy, and review if you have the time, and/or any constructive criticism of my work.
THE SAMURAI
"I need . . . that blonde's number," the actor mumbled as his consciousness faded. Johnny Cage's soul dimmed a little, only a little brighter than Reptile's soul, which had almost became black. Johnny almost killed him. Maybe I was right about him.
Kenshi could see the souls due to the incident. The loss of his sight had cursed him with having to see using the ripples of sound every movement or impact made. Every sound can be felt. Every ripple seen. But it had also gave him a unique gift: he could gaze into the spirit world.
He recalled the meeting he and Raiden had two years prior, inside the cold, barren mountain that housed the Wells of Souls, where he originally lost his eyes:
"Raiden. You've arrived. Have you made your choices?" he'd asked, seated upon the Well, gazing at Raiden's soul through the wall between them, lightning carved into the shape of a man.
"Yes. I would like to hear your suggestions first, though. Your ability to see through the spirit world could be essential in choosing the right combatants," the God had replied, moving into the chamber.
"Very well. My suggestions are Johnny Cage, Kung Lao, Liu Kang, and Nightwolf."
"The actor? And that's a small team."
"They are the only souls on the planet that called out to me. I noticed that a woman named Sonya Blade also had potential, but it is squandered on her. She would never survive the tournament."
"Why not?" Raiden had asked, standing in the doorway like a statue, arms folded, his spirit calm and angry simultaneously, flashing and thriving like white-blue snakes.
"She obsesses over a man named Kano. She would only attend the tournament with him in tow. His spirit is treacherous and vile. He would hinder us, and her."
"I see. I may think a way around that, as she is also one of my choices. She appeared in one of my visions."
"Really? Interesting. Who else?"
"I also have Liu Kang, Kung Lao and Nightwolf. Their inborn abilities make them excellent picks for the tournament. I was also considering releasing Fujin and Tremor from their oaths. Why Johnny Cage?"
"His soul is different from the other Earthrealmers. It has a . . . haze to it. I believe his ancestry, like mine, is not entirely of Earthrealm."
"I shall seek him out. I hope you are right about this."
"As do I. But I suggest that you do not release Fujin and Tremor, they are needed where they are."
The God paused, the lightning whipping out again, indicating a spurt of annoyance. "Hm. Maybe you are right."
In the present, Sonya Blade lowered herself into the pit, her soul a glimmering fortress of steel. Her opponent's soul appeared to be congealed blood. An abomination of the sorcerer's, no doubt. The sand muffled their footsteps, making his vision less clear, like trying to watch a wisp of smoke in a steam room. There wasn't enough sound. He unsheathed his sword and stabbed it into the ground, as easy as cutting butter.
His vision sharpened, outlines becoming clear, if not the details, appearing like smooth glass in a vast darkness from where he felt the ripples. I miss colours. The blue of the sky especially. This island must be beautiful.
"Sonya Blade, Skarlet, the same rules apply as in the first fight," Shang Tsung told them, the thousands of souls contained within his own swirling like a tornado, screaming and crying in their eternal anguish. Kenshi could hear every single one of them. His own ancestors were in there, he knew. I will kill him. "Round one, fight!"
Kenshi paid no mind to the blood and steel fighting each other, trading blows fast and sharp. His focus rest solely on the sorcerer.
"My name is Song, I am pleased to meet you." A smile, seemingly innocent, truly vile.
"I have little time old man. What do you want?" Arrogance and no anger. A time long gone.
"I have heard of your prowess in battle, and wish to gift you with something." A trick. A trap. If only I'd used the eyes I was gifted with.
"Something?" I should never have asked.
"An ancient sword." Curiosity sparked. I guess I was the cat.
He spent a few more minutes, simply reflecting on the pain that one moment had led to, when a scream dragged him into reality. He glanced down to see Sonya laying on the ground, clutching her face. Blood pooled beneath her fingers and dripped to the sand like rainfall.
"Round two goes to Skarlet!" the trickster announced. "Final round. Fight!"
Kenshi watched the man closely, the cold grins that flicked up every time Skarlet landed an attack, the warm grimaces that appeared whenever Sonya gained the upper hand. A few moments passed, and the sorcerer's heart rate spiked. His snake's lips parted cooly, "Sonya Blade wins."
The woman clambered up the ladder, ignoring the ghastly wound on her face and standing next to Kano. She certainly doesn't like leaving him alone. It'll mean her death.
"You ought to get that wound treated," Kenshi suggested, his voice barely a whisper, a scratch on stone that he rarely used. "We can watch Kano."
They both looked surprised that he knew the name, but she shook her head anyway, her tangled ponytail swaying. "Thanks for the offer, but he isn't leaving my sight. Not yet." She seemed unsteady on her feet, and her eyes seemed to be focused over his shoulder. She's seeing double.
"The next fighter will be," Shang Tsung began, "wait . . . he's here?" Venomous laughter rang out and Kenshi need not ask whom he meant. "Is that you Kenshi? I didn't recognise you without your eyes. Those grey streaks in your hair don't help either. Last we met, you were a young . . . whole man."
"They've met?" he heard Kung Lao ask.
"Quiet," muttered Raiden.
Kenshi's hand tightened into a fist. "You knew damn well I'd be here," he snarled. "You organise the matches."
"Not this year. The Emperor wanted to be sure that the fights were . . . fair." He clearly means the opposite. Don't bite. Don't let him provoke you.
"Not so much. I've learnt much since we last met."
"Yes. Now you can walk in a straight line without trailing a bloody hand on the wall." More laughter. I will kill you. I will kill you. I will. "Here, let me show you your opponent. Ermac!"
A figure appeared on the other side of the pit. Judging by the rest of the combatants covering their eyes, he assumed there'd been some flash of light. He gazed through the spirit world at his opponent and almost gagged on his rage. Anger flooded his veins, boiling his temperament, removing his restraint.
This "Ermac" was constructed from the souls of his ancestors, a contraption of pain and anger. They noticed Kenshi though, he could tell. They even calmed a little, though they still fought in their futile effort to escape their new host.
"I will kill this abomination!" he screamed. "I will reclaim my ancestors, and kill you!"
"Kenshi, calm yourself! If you're unfocused, you will be defeated," Raiden warned, placing a hand on his shoulder.
Kenshi tore it off and leapt into the pit. "Face me!" he shouted. Ermac walked off the edge of the pit, where he hovered in the air before slowly descending. His ancestors cried and flailed. Kill. Kill. Kill. A telekinetic. Don't give him time to focus his abilities.
"Round one, fight!"
Kenshi arced his sword upwards, and one of the souls within it materialised in front of Ermac, imitating his motion. His opponent only just managed to dodge the attack, and the imitation only managed to graze his shoulder.
Both teams of combatants above murmured to each other. No one had expected Earthrealmers to have abilities, no doubt. Except Raiden, who shouted down. "Kenshi, show restraint! You cannot kill in the the preliminary matches!"
Kenshi growled, his mind reminding him of the truth in Raiden's words, his sword arm wanting to cut Ermac head to foot. His sword arm won.
He slashed out again and again, short movements that succeeded each other quickly, giving Ermac little time to avoid them. His opponent rolled and leapt and sidestepped, but no matter what movement he made, Kenshi was able to divert him. Ermac couldn't get within ten feet of the samurai.
Kenshi rushed forward, running through the imitation he had created and lunging, his katana darting forward like a viper. The blade found the soft of Ermac's stomach, and he twisted, ripping through sinew, muscle and organs. He tore the blade upwards, splitting Ermac open in a fountain of warm, wet blood.
The body collapsed and Kenshi's ancestors flew into his sword, melting into the steel, finding their home again. New strength rippled through Kenshi and he gasped. I feel . . . fresh. New.
Raiden was shouting at him, thunder rolling in the distance, but he ignored him and turned to a furious Shang Tsung. "You're next."
"And you are fighting in the loser's bracket," the man growled. "Where you will die. Much to my amusement."
Kenshi turned and climbed back to the surface, the blood coating his hands making it harder to climb than it should have been. The wooden rungs slipped and swung, giving him a faint taste of nausea. It would entertain the sorcerer to no end to see me fall of a ladder like a simpleton.
Raiden shook his head. "You realise that being in the loser's bracket prevents you from challenging Shang Tsung?"
"Only if someone from the winner's bracket wishes to challenge him." He paused. " I . . . feel different," he admitted. None of his muscles ached, there was no strain or knots, that usually stretched and frustrated him when he trained. Have I healed?
"You look different," Raiden replied. "The grey in your hair is gone. The souls must've rejuvenated you, in the same way Shang Tsung keeps himself young."
"Do not compare me to that monster."
"We both know that is not what I meant," Raiden snapped. "Absorbing souls has the same effect, no matter the man."
"I did not absorb the souls. I reclaimed them."
"I know."
No, you do not, you weren't there when he took my eyes. You don't feel the relief and satisfaction of having them back.
"The next match!" Shang Tsung shouted, venom laced into every syllable. "Will be Sub-Zero and Scorpion."
A pair of ninjas made their way into the pit. One wore robes with structured bones. His mask was slitted along the sides. His soul was blackened and dead, but fire still raged within. Scorpion. I've heard of him. Does this mean Quan Chi is supporting Outworld?
He looked over to Raiden, who bore the same look of worry. "You realised it too?" the Thunder God asked. "We will have to keep a close eye on him."
The ninja from their side wore robes layered with a plating that acted as light armour. His mask had the symbol of a clan marked into the sides. The soul beneath the skin resembled ice. There is a Lin Kuei on our team, and two on the opposing. Why would they fight for both sides?
"You killed my family and clan," Scorpion rumbled.
"I did no such thing. Hanzo, we knew each other for years before the incident. Why would I? I've asked the Grand Master, and no such attack took place from our men!" Sub-Zero protested.
"Liar! I saw your face. We spoke. I watched as you cut down my wife! My child!" he roared.
"I can not show you my innocence, if you are blinded by anger."
Shang Tsung interrupted, with a deadly smirk, "Round one, begin!"
Scorpion moved at his first opportunity, snapping his arm out and flinging a kunai forward with rare precision. His opponent rolled under, snatching the rope out of the air and coiling it around his arm, drawing Scorpion closer and closer.
They met in a close-quarters brawl, trading elbows and knees, neither of them able to move away from the other. The kunai hang limp from the coiled rope and Scorpion snatched for it. Sub-Zero slammed his head into his, eliciting a loud crack.
He held his hand out, and ice slid out from his palm, forming a fearsome sword. More people murmured. Impressive. Most cryomancers can't freeze their own piss.
He swung it down, severing the rope and allowing him to slide away on a trail of ice. Scorpion roared and extended his arms to either side. Fire formed in his palms, and spread down his arms, soon enveloping his entire body in an inferno.
The flaming ninja rushed forward, leaving a trail of sparks in his fiery wake. Sub-Zero formed balls and daggers of solid ice, flinging them at his opponent to no avail. Scorpion batted each away, and any ice that tried to cling to or freeze his body melted off.
Once in close quarters he merely grabbed Sub-Zero, and the robes beneath the plate caught fire. Sub-Zero began to scream.
"Scorpion, enough! We need him alive! Enough!" Shang Tsung shouted down.
The spectre paid him no heed, remaining intent as Sub-Zero burned alive in his own armour. His skin melted and dripped off his bones, crisping and flaking. After a few seconds Kenshi and the rest of the Earthrealmers stopped watching. They knew the match had been won, they didn't need to watch that.
Sonya Blade and Kano in particular looked shocked. I bet they are as pale as the snow outside the Well of Souls. Her wound had tore her face from the bottom of her left cheek up to her hairline, torn and cracked flesh on either side. That must stand out even more. He looked down at the unconscious Johnny Cage. You are lucky you did not need to see or hear this.
Kenshi walked past them, moving to the shoreline. He sat with crossed legs and lay his sword upon them, admiring the design engraved into the polished steel. A dragon and a phoenix. How fitting.
"They say the sword's name is Sento." That vile smile again.
He slowed his breathing in time with waves. His vision faded, except for the glean from Sento which began to pulse with his heart. It glowed an eery green and a man appeared before him.
"Kenshi. You have came," his ancestor said. "Thank you."
"I had to get you back," Kenshi admitted. "It was a great shame, being fooled by that sorcerer."
"Indeed. But you are now an honourable man. Are you done here?" the spirit asked.
"No. There is still a tournament to win . . . and a sorcerer to kill." His entire body felt as if it were on fire when he spoke his intentions aloud.
"That won't bring your eyes back."
"No. Because nothing can." I will kill him.