For RktikFox, who said this would be a really good long fic. So here it is,
for you*
Christie looked uncertainty at the large building of the Mishima Corporation. On the invitation, it said that the whole of the Mishima Corporation was the prize. Christie couldn't care less about winning; all she wanted to do was find Eddy again.
Inside, Christie walked up to the front desk.
"I'm here for the Tekken tournament," she said in shaky Japanese.
The receptionist pointed to a sign which said in several languages
"Tekken contestants meet in main conference room at 7:00 PM. Please go up to the 13th floor and choose your room."
Christie looked at her watch. It was 3 PM. Plenty of time to have a shower and get some rest before meeting the other contestants.
Christie looked around the room. It was big, spacious and a lot more up- market than anything she'd ever been in. She lay back on the big double bed and thought back to the elevator, where she'd met some of the other contestants.
There were three men and one girl, apart from herself in the lift.
One, a sinewy man with snakeskin trousers had smirked at her and blown cigarette smoke around. The others, a red head and a tall blond with a Mohawk had simply ignored her. The girl was a tiny Asian girl, had smiled rather nervously at her.
From what Eddy had told her, the red-head was Hworang, the guy with a Mohawk was Paul Phoenix and the man with cigarette was Bryan Fury.
Christie frowned. Eddy had told her that Bryan Fury would not have lived to see the next tournament. Something about him being dead….
When the other fighters assembled in the conference room, Christie had never felt so scared in her life. The others looked like they had seen a lot more tournaments than she had. A tall brunette stared at her in obvious disdain. Another man, with tattoos and a mustache sneered at her. Christie wished she was some where else.
Think of Eddy, she told herself. You're only here because of Eddy.
Suddenly, everyone's gaze turned to the speaking platform at the front.
A tall old man stepped up to the microphone.
"Welcome," he said, "Welcome to the tournament that is going to be the the fight of your life."
Christie looked uncertainty at the large building of the Mishima Corporation. On the invitation, it said that the whole of the Mishima Corporation was the prize. Christie couldn't care less about winning; all she wanted to do was find Eddy again.
Inside, Christie walked up to the front desk.
"I'm here for the Tekken tournament," she said in shaky Japanese.
The receptionist pointed to a sign which said in several languages
"Tekken contestants meet in main conference room at 7:00 PM. Please go up to the 13th floor and choose your room."
Christie looked at her watch. It was 3 PM. Plenty of time to have a shower and get some rest before meeting the other contestants.
Christie looked around the room. It was big, spacious and a lot more up- market than anything she'd ever been in. She lay back on the big double bed and thought back to the elevator, where she'd met some of the other contestants.
There were three men and one girl, apart from herself in the lift.
One, a sinewy man with snakeskin trousers had smirked at her and blown cigarette smoke around. The others, a red head and a tall blond with a Mohawk had simply ignored her. The girl was a tiny Asian girl, had smiled rather nervously at her.
From what Eddy had told her, the red-head was Hworang, the guy with a Mohawk was Paul Phoenix and the man with cigarette was Bryan Fury.
Christie frowned. Eddy had told her that Bryan Fury would not have lived to see the next tournament. Something about him being dead….
When the other fighters assembled in the conference room, Christie had never felt so scared in her life. The others looked like they had seen a lot more tournaments than she had. A tall brunette stared at her in obvious disdain. Another man, with tattoos and a mustache sneered at her. Christie wished she was some where else.
Think of Eddy, she told herself. You're only here because of Eddy.
Suddenly, everyone's gaze turned to the speaking platform at the front.
A tall old man stepped up to the microphone.
"Welcome," he said, "Welcome to the tournament that is going to be the the fight of your life."