Botan smiled with utter satisfaction at the specimen of her own acquisition, as he stood before her with the creepiest of postures: partially black-sleeved arms hung down at his sides, his black-clothed torso slowly...steadily dipping down, only to rise back up to normal for a few seconds. His white pant-clad legs held him up, but every few seconds... his knees would slightly bend, like the figure had some sort of problem with his medulla, maintaining his equilibrium.
Long, fiery strands hung down to his chest and obscured most of his face... but two hollow eyes still shone through. Empty, devoid of the concept of human compassion and empathy... eyes that suggested total disregard of the concerns of others.
He was unhinged. He was creepy. He was pale as a ghoul. He was known only as...
"Freeman." Botan called out his name. "Can you understand me?"
No response.
Botan was understandably unsettled just being in his presence... the man was a pariah on Second Southtown, carving a path of blood and death that put most slashers to shame. She made absolute sure to encase every molecule, every ATOM of his being with her mind-hijacking sutures, to ensure he was under her complete control. If not... god help the world...
"Listen carefully." Botan commanded, her voice soft but sharp. "You will obey me. There's a tournament going on at a Stadium down the street... two of the competitors just took each other out, and a replacement is needed."
Freeman remained silent, standing as still as he could in the midst of all the twitching. Those hollow eyes continued to stare into hers...
"You will infiltrate the tournament as a competitor. When there... you will fight Adelheid Bernstein, the proud successor of Rugal's bloodline. All of Germany hails him as a fighting champion, and he is beloved by the masses. You will fight him. You will kill him. Make it so everybody sees his blood. This should please you, yes?"
Freeman still was unresponsive, though his body seemed to shudder at the mention of blood...
Botan noticed it, and smiled wider. "Yesssss... of course it should. You live for nothing else. You're a living tool of murder, birthed from God's dark side to enact his most sinister fantasies upon humanity. You're my ace. Where Shion's moronic mercenaries failed, you'll bring me the greatest success. And, you'll get to do what you love in the process: spill the purest, most prideful, high-born blood. It sounds like a great mutual benef-AGGGHHKKKKKKKKKKKKkkkkk!"
She tried to gasp; her airway was closed. She looked down, and saw her feet several inches above ground. It took a moment to process, but she flailed her hands in defiance and found the cold appendage: his fingers were around her throat, squeezing so hard her vision blurred to a haze.
"Kk..khhh...kkkggghhkkkk...!" she tried as hard as she could, so hard tears formed in her eyes... but no words would come out. Her efforts to pry the hand loose were in vain, pathetically inferior to his strength, his unrelenting, unstoppable madness. But how did he...?!
Freeman threw her effortlessly against the nearby window, so hard it impacted with a crackle and left a huge dent which, if left unattended, would slowly accumulate into a full-on shatter of the glass. Her body, suspended in impact absorption for a few seconds, finally slipped free of the window and slumped to the pavement.
Freeman walked away, not bothering to look back at the fallen body of his victim. There were plenty more to come, after all.
Even with the return of the hostess proper, that didn't necessarily signal a return to calm and normalcy within the tournament or Stadium itself. Adelheid stayed by her side, every footstep, every breath, until they were secure within the perimeter of her VIP booth, Krauser, armed guards, and her bodyguard Silber.
Speaking of Silber...
"Are you okay?" Krauser asked, having been briefed on the full report of what went down outside the Stadium, including the ambush and subsequent attempt on their lives.
"Adelheid trounced them nicely, thank you." Rose slightly bowed. "We are unharmed. Unfortunately, since this can be chalked up as an official assassination attempt-"
"She's not leaving again." Adelheid butted in with a stern affirmation.
"B-brother!" Rose whined.
"Don't argue, Rose. Stay here, with your guards. After the round ends, we'll consolidate with the local police department for extra security, and to investigate this matter."
"Hmph." Krauser sneered. "Like we need the help of a bunch of blue collar grunts. I can protect you better than a whole police force. Silber can, too."
"You'll help us?" Rose asked.
"Not that you two whelps are in my best graces right now..." Krauser sighed. "But if what you're saying is true... I suppose we can't let a tragedy befall the week's proceedings. I'll do the best I can."
Rose smiled, and extended a much more respectful curtsy. "Thank you, Lord Krauser. I think you're sweet, under all that purple hair and muscle~"
Krauser rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes. Now... we've hit a snag here. I've already announced fight 23, but Bogard and Garcia took each other out a minute ago. Do you have alternates picked out?"
Upon hearing those words, Silber nudged his way past Krauser and made his presence known. "I'm ready. Put someone in front of me."
"...No."
"WHAT?!"
Rose Bernstein risked her life and limb, her well-being, by doing something no logical soul on the green Earth ever dared to: say no to Silber. But she did, and the blonde stood her ground before his much larger frame, his grizzled face staring down at her, snarling with jagged fangs.
"Mr. Silber... I apologize. But circumstances have changed. I must have you at my side at all times. I can't afford to let you be distracted by getting to compete!"
Silber's sour expression suggested he was NOT pleased, and the way he folded his arms and kept those eyes fixated on hers didn't help matters much. With a deep, raspy exhale, he spoke:
"You really think this a wise move?" the piercing edge of his voice sent shivers into her.
Rose, eyes still on his, took a DEEP composing breath... reached into her dress to remove a hanky, and gently dabbed her forehead. "Mr. Silber... I'm well aware it's a dangerous move on my part, to deny you like this. And I'm prepared to face the cost."
A slight, almost animalistic growl. "You better be... I want extra. 15%."
In a shrill show of shrewdness, Rose stepped forward and haggled. 10%!"
They were nose to nose. Rose could feel the warm, unnerving breath drift across her face, sending chilling tingles through her skin.. or maybe it was the thrill of standing up to him that made her feel such a way. Nonetheless, Adelheid was on eggshells, an itchy trigger finger urging to jump in...
...One last growl from the man, then a conceding sigh. "Fine then."
Rose's expression brightened immediately, and she gently stroked the man's cheek. "I'm so glad we can come to an understanding, Mr. Silber. You're a reasonable man. That's why I like you~"
Silber gently nudged her hand aside and walked away, sitting back in his designated seat beside hers. Even with the promise of extra money... one could tell the man was utterly heartbroken right now. Wherever his rotten, decrepit organ was beating inside there.
"Now then..." Rose turned to Adel and Krauser. "For the time being, things go as normal. We'll draw two names for the alternate fight, and make it a dark bout. Whoever wants to watch it can catch it on ESPN or something. Okay? Just go get ready for your fight, brother. I'll be fine here! Honest!"
Hesitation. He looked ready to walk away... but something inside kept his feet glued for a moment more. It'd be the first time he was away from her since the ambush. It wasn't easy... trusting her life to others. It was the hardest thing in the world. Father had always told him-
"Brother? Go now? Please?" Rose spoke with a hurried urgency, gesticulating with the back of her hand in a swatting motion, as if to shoo him away. "I'll be okay... I promise. I'm strong."
Adelheid sharply sucked in through his nostrils, his chest rising to a dramatic peak... an exhale later, and his body sank back to normal. "Fine then. Keep her safe, Silber. If anything happens to my sister... I'll come for YOU."
Silber, despite his general disposition, took the threat well. With a small, acknowledging nod, he sent Adelheid on his way, the young man at least partially content.
"Now then..." Rose put on her most showing smile, as she twirled around, her dress swaying with her elegant movement. "BRING OUT THE PENULTIMATE FIGHTERS!"
IN THE LOCKER ROOMS...
He felt strangely at home, within the darkness and solitude of the confined walls. Familiar... like a friendly reminder of who he was. Where he came from. What he was meant to be.
Alone. His name was synonymous with scorn... born, bred, molded to hate, to attack and condemn his "enemies". Perhaps that had imprinted on him just a little too long... even now, in another year of fun, friendship, festivities, Iori Yagami couldn't bring himself to join in with the crowd. He wanted to be away from them. He wanted to be the bummer. The wet blanket. The party pooper. The one to ruin everyone's good time. It was his role, his piece of the grand design... Iori Yagami, the hateful one. The hated one...
...In that locker room, there was plenty of hate to go around.
"You think you're better than me, Yagami?"
A voice in the darkness. Iori's head perked up; he looked around... the shadows concealed all trace of other life forms.
"Yeah, that's right. I'm talking to you. Am I worth your attention? Huh? Or am I too far beneath you to be bothered with?"
Iori was displeased by the sudden addition to his solitude... his "he" time. Upon hearing the voice for the second time, he was off the bench, skulking around the perimeter of the enclosed areas... hunting...
"Where are you?" Iori snarled to that familiar voice.
"Hahahahaha... I'm nowhere." the voice laughed. "I have nowhere to "be", because I'm "not". You feel me?"
"How about I just make you "nothing"? Iori threatened to the echoing walls, already extending his fingers, bent into clawed positions.
"Hah... you know, I get so damn tired of seeing your face." the voice continued to echo all around him the red haired man spinning around... around... but impossible to pinpoint.
"You're always there... always so entitled... always so privileged!" the voice grew more fierce. "You think you have it soooo bad, Iori Yagami! You plead righteousness and pity under the curtain of your stupid little curse... like you have it worse than everyone else. Like you're allowed any consolation, any commodity, because you "deserve" it. You poor tortured soul... PTEWWW! YOU MAKE ME SICK!"
Iori's flames lit, illuminating the dark of the room with a macabre purple glow, his white skin glowing with a violet hue, as the shadows reflected menacing eyes. "Are you gonna come out, or am I gonna have to burn this locker room to the ground!?"
"You're a parasite, Yagami!" the voice ignored him, and continued to rant. "You prey on others protected by your little righteous shield! You hurt who you please. You step over others. YOU SCREWED WITH MY LIVELIHOOD!"
Yashiro's voice boomed so loud with that last line, an echo effect repeated it again... again.. a third time, before it at last faded.
"You think you got it so bad?" his voice carried on. "Tell me... do you appreciate the sun on your skin when you wake up in the morning? A breeze from your air conditioner? Food in your belly, when you open up the fridge and mindlessly throw something in the microwave? Maybe the addicting bliss of nicotine, when you take a long drag? Things you take for granted every day of your life... YOUR CURSE ISN'T SHIT!"
"YOU...you're... wrong..." Iori's voice appeared to be intense for a moment... but surprisingly came out softer than he intended.
"Am I?"
"You are..." his voice grew slightly harder.
"Say it again."
"You're WRONG." a yell.
"SAY IT AGAIN!"
"I SAID YOU'RE F***ING WRONG!" Iori roared one last time, flailing his hands out, sending streams of purple flame ablaze in the locker room, in all directions. Surprised by his own outburst, he was forced to hunch over... hard pants drew out. He looked around... everything alight. He'd overdone it...
...In a dark corner, the flames slowly illuminated the shadowy figure as he came into sight... legs... chiseled torso... his white skin and hair... he was right there.
"For too long, I've been starving to death." Yashiro addressed him head on. "My skin, freezing. My head... my head hurts all the time, from the strain of keeping my form here. I'm always so weary... so tired of having to concentrate."
He thrust a judging finger out. "You think you have it bad? I'd give anything... ANYTHING to be you right now, Iori Yagami... even if I hated myself... at least I could feel."
Iori remained silent, from a combination of having to regain his wind, and the uncertainty of how to respond. How... how was he SUPPOSED to feel? This man... someone he'd never given a second thought to, even when he stole his gig that night... was he truly blind, to be unable to see the unfathomable hatred he'd wrought?
Yashiro slowly slinked backwards, as the shadows started to gradually obscure him, little by little. "You're going to pay for your insolence, Iori Yagami. This isn't revenge... this is simply teaching you a lesson. I want you to know who I am... and I want you to know how you created me. When you've seen it, every OUNCE of it... then your miserable life can be complete."
With that last line, he faded into darkness, no longer in sight or sound.
Iori said nothing. He simply looked down... before he knew it, he'd spaced out. Several dozen seconds went by, his eyes never shifted. His mind wandered... the scattered pieces started coming together, little by little. He'd never thought, even once, his amour propre could be challenged. He long deemed it invulnerable... because HE himself was immune. All this time... was it really a weakness?
...It was whatever he decided it be. That creed alone picked his head back up, as hungry eyes darted towards the way to the exit... he raised his fingers and they curled into claws once again.
It's finally the moment you've all been waiting for. Will Yashiro punish Iori's ego? Or will Iori defend his pride? Find out next time, in the CO MAIN EVENT OF ROUND 1!
