The defeated ninja lay, motionless, upon the cold, marble floor of the Shaolin temple.
The victor's frozen, black eyes stared down upon his Shirai Ryu rival, colied in wait.
Seconds passed. The ninja, clutching his shattered ribs in agony, would writhe upon the floor, yet unaware that the fight was not yet over. His breath was heavy, his yellow mask soaked in dark crimson, with the constant flow of loosened blood spilling from within his broken body.
Hanzo's eyes, at last, would slowly open, to stare into those of his assailant. Gritting his blood-stained teeth, he thrust forth his good arm, the fist aimed directly at the fighter above him. To Hasashi, the fight was not yet over.
The fist met a frigid palm, and with a resounding crack, the wrist was broken, the now-useless limb falling limp to his side.
In reprisal, Sub-Zero struck, the free hand wrapping itself about the ninja's neck, hosting his broken body into the air.
Hanzo had little left but a token struggle, but even that would soon disappear, as the Lin Kuei warrior flash-froze the neck of his victim; the skin, muscle and tissue of Hanzo's throat becoming tight and brittle. Hanzo would sputter, he would gasp, his body would cling to life as well as it could, but the best he could hope for now was that the frost would set in slightly deeper, to his spinal cord, granting the failed warrior a quick, merciful death.
Sub-Zero, though, had no desire for such benevolence.
His other hand grasped the bottom of the ninja's neck, and the two hands pulled in opposite directions; the lower towards the floor, and the upper into the air, and the frozen skin, like that of a cadaver, quickly yielded to the tension. The flesh tore in two, as did the muscle and cartilage that until then were the construct of Hanzo's throat. Hanzo's very last gasp for air was actually quite visible through his exposed windpipe, only seconds before the airway, too, would stretch, and snap in two. All that remained intact was the spinal cord, each vertebrae slipping, undamaged, from the shell of a body that had now slumped to the floor. While blood would pour and pump copiously from the aortic valve of the discarded neck, the severed head shed no blood, the frozen throat acting effectively as a tourniquet. As well, Hanzo felt nothing as his head was ripped clear off his shoulders, the chill of Sub-Zero's palm anthestizing his nerves. Thus was the desired effect of Sub-Zero's expertly-honed deathblow. With no bleeding, there was enough oxygen left in the victim's brain to sustain life for nearly a minute, and without the shock of pain, the ninja would experience every last agonizing second. In that minute, Sub-Zero at last finished this twisted, torturous maneuver, pointing his victim's eyes at the crumpled, blood-soaked body that was once his. His jaw dropped in a silent scream, immense fear and pure hatred firing through what was left of Hanzo Hasashi. In the closing seconds of his life, Hanzo's eyes would then be brought to his murderer's face, the cold, dark orbs staring into his white, frightened eyes. As the world around him gradually faded to black, Hanzo Hasashi's last memory would be the silent whisper, slipping forth from behind his killer's blue mask.
"Fatality."
Sub-Zero released his grip, allowing the head to fall, and land with a dull, heavy crack upon the cold marble, then would solemnly walk through the foyer of the Shaolin temple, as the Shirai Ryu's famed "Scorpion" lay dead on the floor.
(Based on characters and scenarios created by Ed Boon and John Tobias.)
(Property of Midway used without consent and not for profit.)
The victor's frozen, black eyes stared down upon his Shirai Ryu rival, colied in wait.
Seconds passed. The ninja, clutching his shattered ribs in agony, would writhe upon the floor, yet unaware that the fight was not yet over. His breath was heavy, his yellow mask soaked in dark crimson, with the constant flow of loosened blood spilling from within his broken body.
Hanzo's eyes, at last, would slowly open, to stare into those of his assailant. Gritting his blood-stained teeth, he thrust forth his good arm, the fist aimed directly at the fighter above him. To Hasashi, the fight was not yet over.
The fist met a frigid palm, and with a resounding crack, the wrist was broken, the now-useless limb falling limp to his side.
In reprisal, Sub-Zero struck, the free hand wrapping itself about the ninja's neck, hosting his broken body into the air.
Hanzo had little left but a token struggle, but even that would soon disappear, as the Lin Kuei warrior flash-froze the neck of his victim; the skin, muscle and tissue of Hanzo's throat becoming tight and brittle. Hanzo would sputter, he would gasp, his body would cling to life as well as it could, but the best he could hope for now was that the frost would set in slightly deeper, to his spinal cord, granting the failed warrior a quick, merciful death.
Sub-Zero, though, had no desire for such benevolence.
His other hand grasped the bottom of the ninja's neck, and the two hands pulled in opposite directions; the lower towards the floor, and the upper into the air, and the frozen skin, like that of a cadaver, quickly yielded to the tension. The flesh tore in two, as did the muscle and cartilage that until then were the construct of Hanzo's throat. Hanzo's very last gasp for air was actually quite visible through his exposed windpipe, only seconds before the airway, too, would stretch, and snap in two. All that remained intact was the spinal cord, each vertebrae slipping, undamaged, from the shell of a body that had now slumped to the floor. While blood would pour and pump copiously from the aortic valve of the discarded neck, the severed head shed no blood, the frozen throat acting effectively as a tourniquet. As well, Hanzo felt nothing as his head was ripped clear off his shoulders, the chill of Sub-Zero's palm anthestizing his nerves. Thus was the desired effect of Sub-Zero's expertly-honed deathblow. With no bleeding, there was enough oxygen left in the victim's brain to sustain life for nearly a minute, and without the shock of pain, the ninja would experience every last agonizing second. In that minute, Sub-Zero at last finished this twisted, torturous maneuver, pointing his victim's eyes at the crumpled, blood-soaked body that was once his. His jaw dropped in a silent scream, immense fear and pure hatred firing through what was left of Hanzo Hasashi. In the closing seconds of his life, Hanzo's eyes would then be brought to his murderer's face, the cold, dark orbs staring into his white, frightened eyes. As the world around him gradually faded to black, Hanzo Hasashi's last memory would be the silent whisper, slipping forth from behind his killer's blue mask.
"Fatality."
Sub-Zero released his grip, allowing the head to fall, and land with a dull, heavy crack upon the cold marble, then would solemnly walk through the foyer of the Shaolin temple, as the Shirai Ryu's famed "Scorpion" lay dead on the floor.
(Based on characters and scenarios created by Ed Boon and John Tobias.)
(Property of Midway used without consent and not for profit.)