Dirty Blood
He stood tall, breathed a sigh of relief as he looked over at the fallen body of the monstrosity he had just fought. The ten-foot-tall beast now lay on the ground, looking like a pitiful creature run over by a massive semi-truck. Suddenly, a bright white glow enveloped the corpse, and the youth covered his eyes with his arm, shielding himself from the glare, then watched in silent awe as the body vanished, and the light split into five spheres, then soared out of the temple.
He shook his head in disbelief, looking at the now-bare spot on the stone floor. Out of nowhere, footsteps rang out in the massive sanctuary. He looked ahead, gazing into the dark passageway, trying to make out the people coming toward him. Once he got a good look, though, his eyes widened and he gasped in shock.
The Tekkenshu Force didn't give him enough time to react. They opened fire on the youth, making sure they struck him with the shower of bullets. The youth let out a slight gasp as he fell to the stone ground in shock, having been struck countless times. The Tekkenshu men began to come forward, when the youth tried to sit up.
He had no idea what was going on Wracked with pain, he tried to look up at his assassins, and saw only their helmets and automatic machine guns. Looking for anyone he might know, his russet eyes widened slightly as they fell upon a familiar form. Sitting up as much as he could, he reached out with his right hand, opened his mouth, tried to speak.
BAM! A single gunshot, and the youth flopped back onto the ground, lifeless. The Tekkenshu forces looked to the center of their small brigade, to see who had fired the fatal head shot.
Heihachi Mishima stood tall, wielding the smoking Magnum in his left hand. A look of pure coldness adorned his face. He looked down scornfully at the body of the youth, then lowered his gun mechanically. Turning on his heel, he nodded to the Tekkenshu on his left, and the leader beckoned for the brigade to inspect the body, while Heihachi walked away.
It's over. The curse of the Mishima name is over, he thought to himself. Heihachi strode tall, proud of himself for being able to overcome his feelings for his grandson, instead holding onto the thought that he was doing it for the better good of the world. The world didn't need another loose cannon like Kazuya to terrorize it.
"Are you sure he's dead, sir? I don't see any injuries," one of the Tekkenshu force officers said. He tapped the youth's arm with the barrel of his gun, unwilling to kneel down.
"Doesn't look like he's breathing. Jin Kazama is dead," the second officer replied.
"Why don't you take a pulse? I'm agreeing with Bruce here, there aren't any bullet wounds on this kid, and we emptied our clips into him, not to mention the head shot Mr. Mishima gave him," a third said. Immediately, Bruce shook his head.
"No way, man. I ain't gonna do that."
"Neither am I. There's something about that kid that freaks me out. I mean, c'mon, you heard the boss. He's got the Devil gene in him," Bruce's comrade said.
"Oh, you pansies, he's DEAD. It's not like Jin is gonna sit up and kill someone," the second soldier muttered, rolling his eyes. "Here, Casey, hold my gun." He handed his rifle over to the soldier standing at Jin's head, then knelt down and took the youth's wrist into his hand, found his veins, and checked for a pulse. He glanced up at his comrades and shook his head. "See, what did I tell you? Dead as a--"
"Dead?" Jin growled, opening his eyes. The two soldiers surrounding him froze in shock, watching the transformation coming over Jin. His hair lengthened slightly. Black markings adorned his face. A strange red mark emerged on his forehead. Jin opened his eyes, and they shone blood-red. The third soldier stared at the youth, who had been dead just thirty seconds earlier, shaking in terror.
"J-j-j-jin?" he asked. Jin smiled, and the soldier trembled in fear.
"That would be me. You, on the other hand, are history," he snarled. He grabbed the man's arm roughly, snapping it in two. The soldier hollered in pain, and Jin rose to his feet and flung the soldier across the room, listening to the crunch as the corpse hit stone and fell to the floor. He looked around himself, saw that Casey and Bruce had fled, then looked straight ahead. "Heihachi," he growled.
Heihachi was nearly to the passageway that would lead outside the temple when he swore he heard a strange noise. He was about to turn around when suddenly a scream rang out, and a soldier flew past him, colliding with a stone column in front of himself, and fell to the ground; bloodied, limp, and dead.
"Oh no," Heihachi murmured. He looked to his left without turning, then began to slowly turn. A red light, almost like hellfire, shone from behind him. He turned completely and gaped at Jin. The youth grinned angrily, opening his burning scarlet eyes and glaring straight at his grandfather. "Jin..."
Without a second thought, Jin ran right for Heihachi, grabbing the 73-year-old fighter by the face, then threw him through a stone wall in the temple. Heihachi plummeted to the ground soundlessly, hitting it moving, and rolled down the ground. Jin folded himself into a slight flip as he followed Heihachi, then crossed his arms in front of his chest as an enormous pain ripped through his shoulder blades. Suddenly, he threw his arms out as the pain subsided, and huge black-feathered wings sprouted from his back.
Jin chuckled to himself, seeing Heihachi rolling across the grasses, then dove right for him. He caught Heihachi on his back and tackled him to the ground. The stone passageway shook upon impact. Jin then pushed himself off the ground and took to the air again, beating his wings once as he soared into the distance, his figure gracing the moon.
Heihachi slowly sat up and watched as Jin Kazama flew away into the night. So it begins again, he thought to himself. First Kazuya--his son--and now his grandson, Jin. Both infected with the same Devil gene. One still alive.
He stood tall, breathed a sigh of relief as he looked over at the fallen body of the monstrosity he had just fought. The ten-foot-tall beast now lay on the ground, looking like a pitiful creature run over by a massive semi-truck. Suddenly, a bright white glow enveloped the corpse, and the youth covered his eyes with his arm, shielding himself from the glare, then watched in silent awe as the body vanished, and the light split into five spheres, then soared out of the temple.
He shook his head in disbelief, looking at the now-bare spot on the stone floor. Out of nowhere, footsteps rang out in the massive sanctuary. He looked ahead, gazing into the dark passageway, trying to make out the people coming toward him. Once he got a good look, though, his eyes widened and he gasped in shock.
The Tekkenshu Force didn't give him enough time to react. They opened fire on the youth, making sure they struck him with the shower of bullets. The youth let out a slight gasp as he fell to the stone ground in shock, having been struck countless times. The Tekkenshu men began to come forward, when the youth tried to sit up.
He had no idea what was going on Wracked with pain, he tried to look up at his assassins, and saw only their helmets and automatic machine guns. Looking for anyone he might know, his russet eyes widened slightly as they fell upon a familiar form. Sitting up as much as he could, he reached out with his right hand, opened his mouth, tried to speak.
BAM! A single gunshot, and the youth flopped back onto the ground, lifeless. The Tekkenshu forces looked to the center of their small brigade, to see who had fired the fatal head shot.
Heihachi Mishima stood tall, wielding the smoking Magnum in his left hand. A look of pure coldness adorned his face. He looked down scornfully at the body of the youth, then lowered his gun mechanically. Turning on his heel, he nodded to the Tekkenshu on his left, and the leader beckoned for the brigade to inspect the body, while Heihachi walked away.
It's over. The curse of the Mishima name is over, he thought to himself. Heihachi strode tall, proud of himself for being able to overcome his feelings for his grandson, instead holding onto the thought that he was doing it for the better good of the world. The world didn't need another loose cannon like Kazuya to terrorize it.
"Are you sure he's dead, sir? I don't see any injuries," one of the Tekkenshu force officers said. He tapped the youth's arm with the barrel of his gun, unwilling to kneel down.
"Doesn't look like he's breathing. Jin Kazama is dead," the second officer replied.
"Why don't you take a pulse? I'm agreeing with Bruce here, there aren't any bullet wounds on this kid, and we emptied our clips into him, not to mention the head shot Mr. Mishima gave him," a third said. Immediately, Bruce shook his head.
"No way, man. I ain't gonna do that."
"Neither am I. There's something about that kid that freaks me out. I mean, c'mon, you heard the boss. He's got the Devil gene in him," Bruce's comrade said.
"Oh, you pansies, he's DEAD. It's not like Jin is gonna sit up and kill someone," the second soldier muttered, rolling his eyes. "Here, Casey, hold my gun." He handed his rifle over to the soldier standing at Jin's head, then knelt down and took the youth's wrist into his hand, found his veins, and checked for a pulse. He glanced up at his comrades and shook his head. "See, what did I tell you? Dead as a--"
"Dead?" Jin growled, opening his eyes. The two soldiers surrounding him froze in shock, watching the transformation coming over Jin. His hair lengthened slightly. Black markings adorned his face. A strange red mark emerged on his forehead. Jin opened his eyes, and they shone blood-red. The third soldier stared at the youth, who had been dead just thirty seconds earlier, shaking in terror.
"J-j-j-jin?" he asked. Jin smiled, and the soldier trembled in fear.
"That would be me. You, on the other hand, are history," he snarled. He grabbed the man's arm roughly, snapping it in two. The soldier hollered in pain, and Jin rose to his feet and flung the soldier across the room, listening to the crunch as the corpse hit stone and fell to the floor. He looked around himself, saw that Casey and Bruce had fled, then looked straight ahead. "Heihachi," he growled.
Heihachi was nearly to the passageway that would lead outside the temple when he swore he heard a strange noise. He was about to turn around when suddenly a scream rang out, and a soldier flew past him, colliding with a stone column in front of himself, and fell to the ground; bloodied, limp, and dead.
"Oh no," Heihachi murmured. He looked to his left without turning, then began to slowly turn. A red light, almost like hellfire, shone from behind him. He turned completely and gaped at Jin. The youth grinned angrily, opening his burning scarlet eyes and glaring straight at his grandfather. "Jin..."
Without a second thought, Jin ran right for Heihachi, grabbing the 73-year-old fighter by the face, then threw him through a stone wall in the temple. Heihachi plummeted to the ground soundlessly, hitting it moving, and rolled down the ground. Jin folded himself into a slight flip as he followed Heihachi, then crossed his arms in front of his chest as an enormous pain ripped through his shoulder blades. Suddenly, he threw his arms out as the pain subsided, and huge black-feathered wings sprouted from his back.
Jin chuckled to himself, seeing Heihachi rolling across the grasses, then dove right for him. He caught Heihachi on his back and tackled him to the ground. The stone passageway shook upon impact. Jin then pushed himself off the ground and took to the air again, beating his wings once as he soared into the distance, his figure gracing the moon.
Heihachi slowly sat up and watched as Jin Kazama flew away into the night. So it begins again, he thought to himself. First Kazuya--his son--and now his grandson, Jin. Both infected with the same Devil gene. One still alive.