Ever After?
Chapter 5: Confrontation
Ok, chapter 5 is up, by Tuesday night, as promised to everyone that keeps mentioning my large absence between chapters! Yeah, I've decided that I'm going to try and set deadlines for chapters, and I give all of you permission to harass me through e-mail if I cannot make that date. (Friendly harassment please, just bits of persuassion and mock threats. I don't want any anthrax coming through my desktop, ok?)
So, with that said, let's go for the next chapter being up no later than February 9th. (Got a lot of work for the next two weeks, but I'll still try to work around it.) Also, reviews, comments, questions, suggestions (and flames, though I don't care for them much) are always welcome.
The people were becoming restless. Days had passed since the destruction of Earth. Now, buildings that remained were nothing more than skeletons, few patches of foliage were still green with some form of life, and millions were left torn apart from friends, families, and homes to find themselves herded in chains to caves and deep pits. Left shivering, terrified, and clueless to the events unfolding around them, the humans clung to priests, begging for peace, striving for hope. Those brave enough to speak for the people were placed as the leaders, and gave the citizens of Earth enough courage to remain alive with what they could find for food or shelter against the devastating storms that continued to crash overhead.
It had been the 12th day without sunlight. It was only the constant flashes of lightning that provided anything to see by. Rain fell intermittently, providing enough drinking water to keep the body hydrated. Food was difficult, though. Any creatures that could be found were devoured whole, eaten raw and bloody by those hungry enough. The ones who couldn't stomach such savage rations moaned in the darkness, the pains and cramps leaving them in tears. Anyone lucky enough died of starvation before too long, before the lack of food drove them to insanity. Most envied such an easy escape.
For the young man who hadn't spoken more than a few words of comfort since he'd been tossed into this rugged jail cell, he only envied an explanation. One day the weather is glorious, the gangs are causing problems as always, and he was enjoying his daily cup of coffee with crème and sweet-tarts, and then the world turned upside down and from the gates of hell flooded the most vile creatures, claws slashing and teeth grinding, as they rounded up the screaming people, chained them together, and sent them off in flashes of light. Fires raged from the skies, charring everything in contact. Soon the sun was blocked by the towers of smoke, and that was the last he saw of the yellow, life giving globe. Within minutes, it seemed, the city was a waste land of rubble and bodies, the people who remained alive were enslaved and disappearing with every breath, and then he two was taken prisoner before he could resist. His world had blackened until he awoke to women crying, the moans of dying surrounding him, alerting him to what could be a similar demise for himself.
His training had kept him alive this long, though, and he had no intention of giving in just yet. Not without reasons, not without truths, and not without the chance for revenge. A small girl, quivering with nightmares that wouldn't leave her, and infection plaguing her body from a deep gash in her side, moaned with her pains, and he lad a hand on her head to soothe her. She opened her eyes and hope glimmered in them when he smiled. With a slight shift, she settled against his side for warmth and comfort before drifting into an uneasy sleep. She couldn't have been more than six, and his stomach churned with disgust. Women and children, beaten without mercy, without a chance to fight back.
Before, it had been his job to stop those who went out of control in their beliefs and protests, to keep citizens safe from harm. This time, he had failed. He couldn't make that mistake again. There would be no giving in until he had a chance for payback. He would not give in.
Not without revenge.
All she had to do was breath. But even Sonya couldn't keep that simple command straight and constant. Numerous times she found herself choked for air, her throat burning with sorrows contained. Or maybe she was choked by the smoke. It was everywhere, curling around her in wisps, stroking her with all the warmth of death's own bony fingers.
No, that wasn't right. She blinked. There was no smoke, only a few billows from the torches along the walls. They left the room bright and warm, a touch of comfort with every glow. She smiled and continued along in the crowd of faces she couldn't see, he voice lost among others she couldn't understand. Where were they going again?
And then the world blackened into midnight. Shadows danced to a silent band, round and round her again. She turned to find herself alone.
No. You'll never be alone.
The masses had continued on while she stopped. The torches flickered and died, leaving her in the hall with the moon for her guide. Only, the cold porcelain light of the night never touched her. She felt warm, no, hot, moist, and her skin was tinged red. Like the walls, like the floor; everything was stained red, cast upon by the blanket of light from the blood colored moon.
We're together now.
The light spilled down the walls in rivers, mimicking all the care of spilled paint; it drowned the men glaring from their stiff portraits, it pooled at her feet to stop just before her toes. There it swirled and steamed, burst into flames and consumed her whole. The heat choked her. The flames caressed her. Eyes burned from the brightness of the flames, and her ears were flooded with their screams.
Screams and screeches, wails and howls, all erupting from the faces swirling in the fire. All screaming at her, damning her, and she could do nothing but step back, cry out her own despair, it wasn't her, it was never her. Smoke wrapped around her neck, took shape and gripped her, choking her, and Sonya felt compelled to let herself go.
You'll die, it whispered.
You'll rule. You'll sacrifice. You'll kill.
And then you'll die.
DON'T.
RESIST.
ME.
The face smiled from the smoking, swallowed her whole in its blazing eyes.
It sounded like the crack of a whip. It stung like one, too. The pain coursing through her cheek was nothing, however to the searing pain in her lungs as Sonya finally drew a breath. Black spots laughed at her and swam away, dragging her from the foggy depths of her mind, to surface at Shang Tsung's smoldering eyes.
"Are you well?" he asked, his voice carefully calm and flat.
"Fine," she answered automatically, trying not to wince at the pain heating her cheek. "Well enough to know that you didn't have to hit me that hard."
His face remained still, but his voice held barely contained rage. "You speak out of place, woman. Now is not the time, and certainly not the location to play the stubborn fool which you enjoy so much."
Face flushing, Sonya rose to her feet and stepped into his face, ready for the fight she so desperately needed-
-until she paused to take note of the fact that she had to get up to yell at him. Which meant she was on the ground prior to the discussion.
"Just now noticing, I see? You have no idea what happened. Do you?"
Sonya only stared at him, waiting for an answer while she tried to conjure one of her own.
But Tsung shook his had, placed her arm in his, and began escorting her back into the passageway they were traversing earlier. "We have no time for this. We are being awaited, and to be late would be unbeneficial."
"But-"
"No. We will discuss this later. But for your own good, and by Hell's fires for mine, don't you dare show such weakness again, or you may ruin us both." He paused, long enough to draw her attention and look her dead on. "And I will see you dead before you ruin me. Understood?" he annunciated.
Briefly, she found herself shocked by the coldness in his words, but she quickly slammed the suprise down. Through her fake smile, she seethed, ".Perfectly, darling husband."
As they continued on in oppressive silence, Sonya noticed the burning tingle from her hand, and she looked down to see it black, charred from the scar and spreading in tendrils across her fingers, up her arm-
-and when Sonya blinked, her hand was fine, clean and smooth just as before. Shadows, she thought, it was only the shadows.
They were more intimidating in person than from afar, Sonya noted as she entered the private dinning area. Their dress remained the same, all in black, except each was now adorned with a colored robe that hung to a little above the knees. Each of the five Lords kept eye on her arrival, scrutinizing her, judging her. She felt slightly sick at their expressions, ranging from anger to intrigue and then to lust. But as quickly as the emotions came, they fled, leaving cold indifference.
"You're late, Tsung," one dressed in red silks remarked with a clipped tone.
"Forgive our tardiness. My darling spouse is easily distracted by pretty things and soon got herself lost." The men chuckled with him as he remarked, "Typical woman."
Sonya tried to keep her cool but her clenching hands gave away too much.
"Sensitive, is she? Whatever do you see in her?" This from a man in royal blue. His voice scratched like nails on a chalkboard.
"Not sensitive, Rotiart. Simply proud. Just like the rest of us."
The denial from one Lord in green snapped back at Tsung. "She's nothing like us, and you're a fool for trying to make her so."
"I'm not trying to make her anything. I'm only shaping her into what she already is."
"It will take a lot of work to shape her into a man," the man sitting at the end of the table, his robes of a deep purple, quipped from afar, and hid his smug smile behind is drink.
Laughs all around, and Sonya felt adrift in a sea of humiliation.
"Why would you want to do that? Such a pretty thing, it would be a waste," the one named Rotiart replied.
"You will at least knock her up first, wont you?"
"Secure an heir to your realm, that's all she's good for anyway," the last man, donned in orange, hissed from his own seat next to the one in blue. He hadn't stopped glaring at Sonya. Not once.
Tsung simply smiled at the remark. "Don't be foolish, Latrom. She's good for a lot more than just that," he replied suggestively.
All the men laughed again as Sonya's back went straight and her face flushed. The lash backs were racing through her mind, right to the tip of her tongue, when the men at the table stood and bowed respectfully. Sonya turned to find the Emperor, dressed in a suit of black armor, standing directly behind her. Breath caught and blood thinning to ice, Sonya was dumbfounded just long enough to make the Emperor chuckle.
"So, this is the earth woman that gave us such a delicious realm to feast on," he drawled in his low, demonic voice. A moment passed to look her over before he remarked, "How quaint. For being the so called best female warrior Earth had to offer, I'm not seeing much to impress. Then again," he smiled viciously, "Rayden has always been such an undemanding god."
The others, Tsung included, laughed at the jibe.
Khan turned away to take a seat at the table, calling over his shoulder, "Forgive me. Rayden had been such an undemanding god."
Sonya felt the chill race up her spine, clouding her head. Tsung had told her he was dead... But it couldn't be true.
"Interesting."
Sonya suddenly snapped from her daze, focusing again on the Emperor. A peculiar look, something between thoughtful and amused, rested in his eyes. A lone hand caressed his chin before he spoke. "Leave us," he ordered.
The men looked confused.
"I said leave us! I want a moment with the mortal."
Without hesitation, each man left, Tsung not even giving a second look back.
Sonya heard every movement around her, from the shuffling of the Lords' robes to the click of the doorknob. Then the cackling of the torches, the rustling of the tapestries on the walls, the heavy beat of her heart. Her gaze remained dead ahead, a thousand yard stare, giving away nothing, just as she had been taught. The silence carried on for minutes, and she remained still and silent the entire time, with only her thoughts racing loudly in her head.
"What a brave face. You're a decent liar."
Silence.
"So, Tsung has taught you something of respect." Khan stood, his chair scraping along the stone floor, and then his boots clicked with each step, moving closer to his companion. "It must be hard for you, knowing that you have to serve me, who has destroyed your world and will destroy everyone you care about, if you make one false move." He moved close enough to sniff her hair. "Tell me. Is it hard?"
"It will be harder tolerating your body odor."
"Ah. Arrogant mortals. Always speaking with the powers of a god." He stepped into her sight, gazing down on her intensely. "Do you think you're immortal? Do you think you're invulnerable? Because you're not. You're tissue paper to me. A gnat on the wall waiting to be crushed. You are expendable, just like the rest of your pathetic realm."
"If it is so worthless, why did you go after it?"
"Because," he leaned down, "you're realm holds billions of people, all carrying souls, that people like myself and your dear husband, feed on." He sneered. "And when Tsung grows tired of you, you will be added to the list. Just like Kitana."
He laughed and turned, sidestepping to circle her. "That angers you, doesn't it? Thinking about Kitana? Are you still hearing her screams? Can you feel the fire under your own feet? Or are you just wallowing in the guilt of your own loss? Thinking that if only you had fought harder, you might have won?" He paused by her ear. "Do you ache when you think about failing your friends?"
Shut up, her mind screamed, but her voice was missing. Her throat was clamped shut with the strain of his words. No, fight it! And there he was, piercing her soul with his merciless eyes, relishing in her inner turmoil, daring the heat of her anger burning brilliantly from her eyes.
"I hate humans. I enjoy making them suffer, hearing them scream and beg for pity. Few have provided challenges worth noting. Liu Kang was one, the only one, who stood any chance of winning. If not for you, perhaps the realm would have been saved. But look what happened. You thought yourself so strong and so worthy, and you lost. You are weak, Sonya Blade. Weak and worthless. And whatever plan you have of betrayal against me, forget about it. It would never work. I would see it coming too soon." He leaned in further, searching her deeper, penetrating her with his overwhelming eyes. Suddenly, his hand snaked up and gripped her by the neck, lifting her to his eye level, letting her dangle against his grip. "Because you can't mask your thoughts, or your disgusting emotions. I can read every single one at a glance, a simple look, and I already know everything."
Sonya felt chills running through her, little fingers probing every secret in her mind, but she forced herself, willed herself with everything she stood for, not to cave in. "You think I'll betray you?" she choked out. "Then why don't you just kill me where I stand?"
Khan smiled cruelly, his eyes crinkling around the edge that made him look slightly more insane. "You couldn't kill Kano, your archenemy, even when you had the perfect opportunity. Twice, you had the chance to see him dead, and you wanted him to serve justice behind bars instead. You're too sympathetic. That is why you are no threat to me. And I'm keeping you alive just so I can throw that in your face everyday for the rest of your pathetic, miserable life." He dropped her to her feet and began to walk away, in the direction he first arrived. "Start enjoying your new position as my servant. You'll be playing that role for a long time. Now get out." He turned a corner and disappeared, leaving Sonya with a flurry of emotions and a lack of breath.
One day, she thought, one day you'll eat your words Khan. I swear to God.
You're being watched.
Sonya's head snapped up, her instincts alerting her to danger close by. She scanned the room twice, three times, but could find nothing of concern. Then, as suddenly as it had come, it had disappeared. The feeling was gone. The being had left.
Enough of this, she thought. She stood, regained her composure, and left the room. Tsung was outside the door, regarding her silently for a few moments before speaking.
"I have business here, you shall return to Outworld alone." With the use of his magic and without another word, he transported her back to her room. Sonya took a breath, and stepped into her closet. She found what she was hunting for, and set to work.
Daniel.
Crack!
Her parents.
Smack!
Jax.
Whoomp!
Liu.
Her breathing came heavier with each punch.
Kitana.
She was seeing red with every kick.
Johnny.
"Argh!" And the sack of sand went flying up into the air with the force of her hit, and came back down to meet every hit after that, each coming harder than the last, until the sweat stung her eyes into near blindness. Fire inflated her lungs, invisible weights held her legs down, forcing her to work for her attacks. But through the pain and the tears, she continued fighting, her emotions pushing her to her limits and beyond.
I'll kill you all, she thought. Kano and Khan and the Lords and Motaro and that damn bastard Tsung! It's all your fault! You ruined my life! He replaced the bag and Sonya flew a crescent kick at him, straight for his head, wanting to hear his neck snap in half, to see the life drain from his eyes-
-only her foot cut through empty air, her momentum sending her hard to the stone floor. The breath flushed from her, leaving her dazed and choking.
"You'll beak the bag at this rate."
She looked up, blinking as she waited for the world to stop turning, and glared at the two sorcerer's spinning sideways in her vision. All she wanted was to watch him die in her dreams, and he denied her that. Seeing him in person was not improving her mood.
"It'll be the bag or your head," she seethed when she could breath.
"What a way to welcome your husband home." He let go of the bag, allowing it to swing over her prone body. "And you need some work on that kick. If your feet were right, you wouldn't have fallen."
"Fuck you!" She jumped to her feet. "I didn't invite you in here, I don't want you here, so get the fuck out!" she annunciated with a powerful punch to the bag that sent it swinging.
Tsung watched it move. "You hit pretty hard when you're angry."
Sonya growled and stalked away, only to find her arm bent up and her face crushed into the floor before she knew she had even been touched.
"All fighters should know to never turn their backs to a potential enemy."
Sonya reached boiling point, and with a cry of fury, spun herself out of his arm lock onto her back, kicking out her left leg to sweep him and bringing her right leg down onto his sternum with cracking force. Then she twisted herself up onto her feet, crouched, and charged in for an axe kick to the neck. Tsung blocked it, locking her ankle as he kicked up to the outside of her standing leg, hitting the bundle of nerves that sent her to the floor in a moment of paralysis.
He stood and walked over to her, offering his hand to help her up. "Again?"
Sonya glared and stood on her own, her chest heaving. "Ok," and she flew in for a high attack, throwing in punches and kicks at every opening she saw, forcing him back, back, until he was almost against the wall, always retreating, but never attacking. He continued brushing off her attacks like he was swatting flies. Why wasn't he attacking?
"Fight back, damn you!"
"No."
"Why not?!" She threw a powerful snap kick, putting all her anger behind it, only to find her foot in the wall. "Damn it!"
"I'm learning your mistakes so I can correct them later."
Sonya spun, throwing her elbow into the turn, missing him by mere inches. Again, they moved, her attacking, him retreating, her breathing wildly, and him acting like he was out for a walk. The peacefulness of his attitude was driving her mad, and she couldn't take it anymore, she needed this fight, damn it all to hell! "Enough!" she screamed and dropped her attack to simply shove him away. "Why are you doing this to me?! Haven't you had enough fun with me tonight?! Stop fucking around and fight back!"
Tsung tilted his head slightly. "You are angry with me. More so than usual."
"I'm angry with everybody, you're nothing special!" she snapped.
Tsung crossed his arms, a serious look on his face. "Explain."
"It's none of your goddamn business," she answered vehemently.
"I'm not here to hold your hand, Sonya. Respect is earned, never given."
Sonya gave him a sharp glance. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"These men have lived for thousands of years, and have been living under particular rules that are never questioned and never changed. A man is always more powerful than a woman, and to treat you with any form of respect would have given us both a severe quarrel with them. Learn now, you are always under me, and always subject to humiliation until proven otherwise. You will be ridiculed, so get used to it," he snapped.
He stepped closer, his voice dropping a bit lower. "Also, these are men of action, and judge by what they see, not what they hear. To say anything good of you would have fallen on deaf ears. They want to see you prove your worth. Tonight was nothing compared to what lies ahead. Take my word, and toughen up."
Sonya recoiled. "Toughen up?" she hissed.
"You show your emotions too easily. That is why I beat you, and that is what Khan will always use against you. Work on it."
Sonya's eyes left his, because she couldn't stare him down when his words rang true.
"But also remember," he added, "to listen carefully to what they say, because it could always be a lie. They speak one thing, and think another."
"Remind you of anyone?" she countered.
"Absolutely," he replied with a hint of a smile. "For despite what I say, I still have faith in you."
Sonya's head snapped up, looking for an explanation in his eyes, but he was already leaving the sparring room. She stood there for a few moments, taking in his words, and trying not to think what they could mean. It wasn't possible he could.
She shivered. No, she wouldn't think that. It was all a trick, right? Everything was smoke and mirrors here. Like he said, say one thing and think another. That was exactly what he meant. He was thinking something else entirely, he didn't ca-
Her hair whipped around her face as she spun, her body already preparing for a fight. Yet again, the feeling of being watched left her as soon as it came. But her back still tingled, right at the base of her neck, and she knew what she saw. This time, it wasn't fast enough to get away, and Sonya caught a glimpse of black hair and a mask.
She was being followed.
All rigthy, end of this chapter. Well, I don't know what you guys think of the story after reading this chapter, but I know that it's not really Mortal Kombat action packed like it should be, so I'm going to try and spice it up a bit more. Yeah, the fight scene here was bland, but that's because Tsung just wasn't into it. Also, if it seems a little slow, let me know. I want to start moving it along, but I don't want to move to quick and leave everyone doing a double take, holding up signs reading: What the $&*^$ just happened? I guess right now, I'm just dropping clues for you, hoping to keep your interest by making you think: Now what the hell is that about? Or who is that person? Or something like that.
Oh, and I'm working with Tsung in a different way, but if you think he's too OOC, let me know how you think he should act, and I'll see if it is applicable. I'm also game for suggestions for future chapters. You can post them in reviews, or send them out to ChibiSonya or myself by e-mail.
Take care, and let's get out some more chapters in less time! (Yeah, right, but one can hope.)
Ok, chapter 5 is up, by Tuesday night, as promised to everyone that keeps mentioning my large absence between chapters! Yeah, I've decided that I'm going to try and set deadlines for chapters, and I give all of you permission to harass me through e-mail if I cannot make that date. (Friendly harassment please, just bits of persuassion and mock threats. I don't want any anthrax coming through my desktop, ok?)
So, with that said, let's go for the next chapter being up no later than February 9th. (Got a lot of work for the next two weeks, but I'll still try to work around it.) Also, reviews, comments, questions, suggestions (and flames, though I don't care for them much) are always welcome.
The people were becoming restless. Days had passed since the destruction of Earth. Now, buildings that remained were nothing more than skeletons, few patches of foliage were still green with some form of life, and millions were left torn apart from friends, families, and homes to find themselves herded in chains to caves and deep pits. Left shivering, terrified, and clueless to the events unfolding around them, the humans clung to priests, begging for peace, striving for hope. Those brave enough to speak for the people were placed as the leaders, and gave the citizens of Earth enough courage to remain alive with what they could find for food or shelter against the devastating storms that continued to crash overhead.
It had been the 12th day without sunlight. It was only the constant flashes of lightning that provided anything to see by. Rain fell intermittently, providing enough drinking water to keep the body hydrated. Food was difficult, though. Any creatures that could be found were devoured whole, eaten raw and bloody by those hungry enough. The ones who couldn't stomach such savage rations moaned in the darkness, the pains and cramps leaving them in tears. Anyone lucky enough died of starvation before too long, before the lack of food drove them to insanity. Most envied such an easy escape.
For the young man who hadn't spoken more than a few words of comfort since he'd been tossed into this rugged jail cell, he only envied an explanation. One day the weather is glorious, the gangs are causing problems as always, and he was enjoying his daily cup of coffee with crème and sweet-tarts, and then the world turned upside down and from the gates of hell flooded the most vile creatures, claws slashing and teeth grinding, as they rounded up the screaming people, chained them together, and sent them off in flashes of light. Fires raged from the skies, charring everything in contact. Soon the sun was blocked by the towers of smoke, and that was the last he saw of the yellow, life giving globe. Within minutes, it seemed, the city was a waste land of rubble and bodies, the people who remained alive were enslaved and disappearing with every breath, and then he two was taken prisoner before he could resist. His world had blackened until he awoke to women crying, the moans of dying surrounding him, alerting him to what could be a similar demise for himself.
His training had kept him alive this long, though, and he had no intention of giving in just yet. Not without reasons, not without truths, and not without the chance for revenge. A small girl, quivering with nightmares that wouldn't leave her, and infection plaguing her body from a deep gash in her side, moaned with her pains, and he lad a hand on her head to soothe her. She opened her eyes and hope glimmered in them when he smiled. With a slight shift, she settled against his side for warmth and comfort before drifting into an uneasy sleep. She couldn't have been more than six, and his stomach churned with disgust. Women and children, beaten without mercy, without a chance to fight back.
Before, it had been his job to stop those who went out of control in their beliefs and protests, to keep citizens safe from harm. This time, he had failed. He couldn't make that mistake again. There would be no giving in until he had a chance for payback. He would not give in.
Not without revenge.
All she had to do was breath. But even Sonya couldn't keep that simple command straight and constant. Numerous times she found herself choked for air, her throat burning with sorrows contained. Or maybe she was choked by the smoke. It was everywhere, curling around her in wisps, stroking her with all the warmth of death's own bony fingers.
No, that wasn't right. She blinked. There was no smoke, only a few billows from the torches along the walls. They left the room bright and warm, a touch of comfort with every glow. She smiled and continued along in the crowd of faces she couldn't see, he voice lost among others she couldn't understand. Where were they going again?
And then the world blackened into midnight. Shadows danced to a silent band, round and round her again. She turned to find herself alone.
No. You'll never be alone.
The masses had continued on while she stopped. The torches flickered and died, leaving her in the hall with the moon for her guide. Only, the cold porcelain light of the night never touched her. She felt warm, no, hot, moist, and her skin was tinged red. Like the walls, like the floor; everything was stained red, cast upon by the blanket of light from the blood colored moon.
We're together now.
The light spilled down the walls in rivers, mimicking all the care of spilled paint; it drowned the men glaring from their stiff portraits, it pooled at her feet to stop just before her toes. There it swirled and steamed, burst into flames and consumed her whole. The heat choked her. The flames caressed her. Eyes burned from the brightness of the flames, and her ears were flooded with their screams.
Screams and screeches, wails and howls, all erupting from the faces swirling in the fire. All screaming at her, damning her, and she could do nothing but step back, cry out her own despair, it wasn't her, it was never her. Smoke wrapped around her neck, took shape and gripped her, choking her, and Sonya felt compelled to let herself go.
You'll die, it whispered.
You'll rule. You'll sacrifice. You'll kill.
And then you'll die.
DON'T.
RESIST.
ME.
The face smiled from the smoking, swallowed her whole in its blazing eyes.
It sounded like the crack of a whip. It stung like one, too. The pain coursing through her cheek was nothing, however to the searing pain in her lungs as Sonya finally drew a breath. Black spots laughed at her and swam away, dragging her from the foggy depths of her mind, to surface at Shang Tsung's smoldering eyes.
"Are you well?" he asked, his voice carefully calm and flat.
"Fine," she answered automatically, trying not to wince at the pain heating her cheek. "Well enough to know that you didn't have to hit me that hard."
His face remained still, but his voice held barely contained rage. "You speak out of place, woman. Now is not the time, and certainly not the location to play the stubborn fool which you enjoy so much."
Face flushing, Sonya rose to her feet and stepped into his face, ready for the fight she so desperately needed-
-until she paused to take note of the fact that she had to get up to yell at him. Which meant she was on the ground prior to the discussion.
"Just now noticing, I see? You have no idea what happened. Do you?"
Sonya only stared at him, waiting for an answer while she tried to conjure one of her own.
But Tsung shook his had, placed her arm in his, and began escorting her back into the passageway they were traversing earlier. "We have no time for this. We are being awaited, and to be late would be unbeneficial."
"But-"
"No. We will discuss this later. But for your own good, and by Hell's fires for mine, don't you dare show such weakness again, or you may ruin us both." He paused, long enough to draw her attention and look her dead on. "And I will see you dead before you ruin me. Understood?" he annunciated.
Briefly, she found herself shocked by the coldness in his words, but she quickly slammed the suprise down. Through her fake smile, she seethed, ".Perfectly, darling husband."
As they continued on in oppressive silence, Sonya noticed the burning tingle from her hand, and she looked down to see it black, charred from the scar and spreading in tendrils across her fingers, up her arm-
-and when Sonya blinked, her hand was fine, clean and smooth just as before. Shadows, she thought, it was only the shadows.
They were more intimidating in person than from afar, Sonya noted as she entered the private dinning area. Their dress remained the same, all in black, except each was now adorned with a colored robe that hung to a little above the knees. Each of the five Lords kept eye on her arrival, scrutinizing her, judging her. She felt slightly sick at their expressions, ranging from anger to intrigue and then to lust. But as quickly as the emotions came, they fled, leaving cold indifference.
"You're late, Tsung," one dressed in red silks remarked with a clipped tone.
"Forgive our tardiness. My darling spouse is easily distracted by pretty things and soon got herself lost." The men chuckled with him as he remarked, "Typical woman."
Sonya tried to keep her cool but her clenching hands gave away too much.
"Sensitive, is she? Whatever do you see in her?" This from a man in royal blue. His voice scratched like nails on a chalkboard.
"Not sensitive, Rotiart. Simply proud. Just like the rest of us."
The denial from one Lord in green snapped back at Tsung. "She's nothing like us, and you're a fool for trying to make her so."
"I'm not trying to make her anything. I'm only shaping her into what she already is."
"It will take a lot of work to shape her into a man," the man sitting at the end of the table, his robes of a deep purple, quipped from afar, and hid his smug smile behind is drink.
Laughs all around, and Sonya felt adrift in a sea of humiliation.
"Why would you want to do that? Such a pretty thing, it would be a waste," the one named Rotiart replied.
"You will at least knock her up first, wont you?"
"Secure an heir to your realm, that's all she's good for anyway," the last man, donned in orange, hissed from his own seat next to the one in blue. He hadn't stopped glaring at Sonya. Not once.
Tsung simply smiled at the remark. "Don't be foolish, Latrom. She's good for a lot more than just that," he replied suggestively.
All the men laughed again as Sonya's back went straight and her face flushed. The lash backs were racing through her mind, right to the tip of her tongue, when the men at the table stood and bowed respectfully. Sonya turned to find the Emperor, dressed in a suit of black armor, standing directly behind her. Breath caught and blood thinning to ice, Sonya was dumbfounded just long enough to make the Emperor chuckle.
"So, this is the earth woman that gave us such a delicious realm to feast on," he drawled in his low, demonic voice. A moment passed to look her over before he remarked, "How quaint. For being the so called best female warrior Earth had to offer, I'm not seeing much to impress. Then again," he smiled viciously, "Rayden has always been such an undemanding god."
The others, Tsung included, laughed at the jibe.
Khan turned away to take a seat at the table, calling over his shoulder, "Forgive me. Rayden had been such an undemanding god."
Sonya felt the chill race up her spine, clouding her head. Tsung had told her he was dead... But it couldn't be true.
"Interesting."
Sonya suddenly snapped from her daze, focusing again on the Emperor. A peculiar look, something between thoughtful and amused, rested in his eyes. A lone hand caressed his chin before he spoke. "Leave us," he ordered.
The men looked confused.
"I said leave us! I want a moment with the mortal."
Without hesitation, each man left, Tsung not even giving a second look back.
Sonya heard every movement around her, from the shuffling of the Lords' robes to the click of the doorknob. Then the cackling of the torches, the rustling of the tapestries on the walls, the heavy beat of her heart. Her gaze remained dead ahead, a thousand yard stare, giving away nothing, just as she had been taught. The silence carried on for minutes, and she remained still and silent the entire time, with only her thoughts racing loudly in her head.
"What a brave face. You're a decent liar."
Silence.
"So, Tsung has taught you something of respect." Khan stood, his chair scraping along the stone floor, and then his boots clicked with each step, moving closer to his companion. "It must be hard for you, knowing that you have to serve me, who has destroyed your world and will destroy everyone you care about, if you make one false move." He moved close enough to sniff her hair. "Tell me. Is it hard?"
"It will be harder tolerating your body odor."
"Ah. Arrogant mortals. Always speaking with the powers of a god." He stepped into her sight, gazing down on her intensely. "Do you think you're immortal? Do you think you're invulnerable? Because you're not. You're tissue paper to me. A gnat on the wall waiting to be crushed. You are expendable, just like the rest of your pathetic realm."
"If it is so worthless, why did you go after it?"
"Because," he leaned down, "you're realm holds billions of people, all carrying souls, that people like myself and your dear husband, feed on." He sneered. "And when Tsung grows tired of you, you will be added to the list. Just like Kitana."
He laughed and turned, sidestepping to circle her. "That angers you, doesn't it? Thinking about Kitana? Are you still hearing her screams? Can you feel the fire under your own feet? Or are you just wallowing in the guilt of your own loss? Thinking that if only you had fought harder, you might have won?" He paused by her ear. "Do you ache when you think about failing your friends?"
Shut up, her mind screamed, but her voice was missing. Her throat was clamped shut with the strain of his words. No, fight it! And there he was, piercing her soul with his merciless eyes, relishing in her inner turmoil, daring the heat of her anger burning brilliantly from her eyes.
"I hate humans. I enjoy making them suffer, hearing them scream and beg for pity. Few have provided challenges worth noting. Liu Kang was one, the only one, who stood any chance of winning. If not for you, perhaps the realm would have been saved. But look what happened. You thought yourself so strong and so worthy, and you lost. You are weak, Sonya Blade. Weak and worthless. And whatever plan you have of betrayal against me, forget about it. It would never work. I would see it coming too soon." He leaned in further, searching her deeper, penetrating her with his overwhelming eyes. Suddenly, his hand snaked up and gripped her by the neck, lifting her to his eye level, letting her dangle against his grip. "Because you can't mask your thoughts, or your disgusting emotions. I can read every single one at a glance, a simple look, and I already know everything."
Sonya felt chills running through her, little fingers probing every secret in her mind, but she forced herself, willed herself with everything she stood for, not to cave in. "You think I'll betray you?" she choked out. "Then why don't you just kill me where I stand?"
Khan smiled cruelly, his eyes crinkling around the edge that made him look slightly more insane. "You couldn't kill Kano, your archenemy, even when you had the perfect opportunity. Twice, you had the chance to see him dead, and you wanted him to serve justice behind bars instead. You're too sympathetic. That is why you are no threat to me. And I'm keeping you alive just so I can throw that in your face everyday for the rest of your pathetic, miserable life." He dropped her to her feet and began to walk away, in the direction he first arrived. "Start enjoying your new position as my servant. You'll be playing that role for a long time. Now get out." He turned a corner and disappeared, leaving Sonya with a flurry of emotions and a lack of breath.
One day, she thought, one day you'll eat your words Khan. I swear to God.
You're being watched.
Sonya's head snapped up, her instincts alerting her to danger close by. She scanned the room twice, three times, but could find nothing of concern. Then, as suddenly as it had come, it had disappeared. The feeling was gone. The being had left.
Enough of this, she thought. She stood, regained her composure, and left the room. Tsung was outside the door, regarding her silently for a few moments before speaking.
"I have business here, you shall return to Outworld alone." With the use of his magic and without another word, he transported her back to her room. Sonya took a breath, and stepped into her closet. She found what she was hunting for, and set to work.
Daniel.
Crack!
Her parents.
Smack!
Jax.
Whoomp!
Liu.
Her breathing came heavier with each punch.
Kitana.
She was seeing red with every kick.
Johnny.
"Argh!" And the sack of sand went flying up into the air with the force of her hit, and came back down to meet every hit after that, each coming harder than the last, until the sweat stung her eyes into near blindness. Fire inflated her lungs, invisible weights held her legs down, forcing her to work for her attacks. But through the pain and the tears, she continued fighting, her emotions pushing her to her limits and beyond.
I'll kill you all, she thought. Kano and Khan and the Lords and Motaro and that damn bastard Tsung! It's all your fault! You ruined my life! He replaced the bag and Sonya flew a crescent kick at him, straight for his head, wanting to hear his neck snap in half, to see the life drain from his eyes-
-only her foot cut through empty air, her momentum sending her hard to the stone floor. The breath flushed from her, leaving her dazed and choking.
"You'll beak the bag at this rate."
She looked up, blinking as she waited for the world to stop turning, and glared at the two sorcerer's spinning sideways in her vision. All she wanted was to watch him die in her dreams, and he denied her that. Seeing him in person was not improving her mood.
"It'll be the bag or your head," she seethed when she could breath.
"What a way to welcome your husband home." He let go of the bag, allowing it to swing over her prone body. "And you need some work on that kick. If your feet were right, you wouldn't have fallen."
"Fuck you!" She jumped to her feet. "I didn't invite you in here, I don't want you here, so get the fuck out!" she annunciated with a powerful punch to the bag that sent it swinging.
Tsung watched it move. "You hit pretty hard when you're angry."
Sonya growled and stalked away, only to find her arm bent up and her face crushed into the floor before she knew she had even been touched.
"All fighters should know to never turn their backs to a potential enemy."
Sonya reached boiling point, and with a cry of fury, spun herself out of his arm lock onto her back, kicking out her left leg to sweep him and bringing her right leg down onto his sternum with cracking force. Then she twisted herself up onto her feet, crouched, and charged in for an axe kick to the neck. Tsung blocked it, locking her ankle as he kicked up to the outside of her standing leg, hitting the bundle of nerves that sent her to the floor in a moment of paralysis.
He stood and walked over to her, offering his hand to help her up. "Again?"
Sonya glared and stood on her own, her chest heaving. "Ok," and she flew in for a high attack, throwing in punches and kicks at every opening she saw, forcing him back, back, until he was almost against the wall, always retreating, but never attacking. He continued brushing off her attacks like he was swatting flies. Why wasn't he attacking?
"Fight back, damn you!"
"No."
"Why not?!" She threw a powerful snap kick, putting all her anger behind it, only to find her foot in the wall. "Damn it!"
"I'm learning your mistakes so I can correct them later."
Sonya spun, throwing her elbow into the turn, missing him by mere inches. Again, they moved, her attacking, him retreating, her breathing wildly, and him acting like he was out for a walk. The peacefulness of his attitude was driving her mad, and she couldn't take it anymore, she needed this fight, damn it all to hell! "Enough!" she screamed and dropped her attack to simply shove him away. "Why are you doing this to me?! Haven't you had enough fun with me tonight?! Stop fucking around and fight back!"
Tsung tilted his head slightly. "You are angry with me. More so than usual."
"I'm angry with everybody, you're nothing special!" she snapped.
Tsung crossed his arms, a serious look on his face. "Explain."
"It's none of your goddamn business," she answered vehemently.
"I'm not here to hold your hand, Sonya. Respect is earned, never given."
Sonya gave him a sharp glance. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"These men have lived for thousands of years, and have been living under particular rules that are never questioned and never changed. A man is always more powerful than a woman, and to treat you with any form of respect would have given us both a severe quarrel with them. Learn now, you are always under me, and always subject to humiliation until proven otherwise. You will be ridiculed, so get used to it," he snapped.
He stepped closer, his voice dropping a bit lower. "Also, these are men of action, and judge by what they see, not what they hear. To say anything good of you would have fallen on deaf ears. They want to see you prove your worth. Tonight was nothing compared to what lies ahead. Take my word, and toughen up."
Sonya recoiled. "Toughen up?" she hissed.
"You show your emotions too easily. That is why I beat you, and that is what Khan will always use against you. Work on it."
Sonya's eyes left his, because she couldn't stare him down when his words rang true.
"But also remember," he added, "to listen carefully to what they say, because it could always be a lie. They speak one thing, and think another."
"Remind you of anyone?" she countered.
"Absolutely," he replied with a hint of a smile. "For despite what I say, I still have faith in you."
Sonya's head snapped up, looking for an explanation in his eyes, but he was already leaving the sparring room. She stood there for a few moments, taking in his words, and trying not to think what they could mean. It wasn't possible he could.
She shivered. No, she wouldn't think that. It was all a trick, right? Everything was smoke and mirrors here. Like he said, say one thing and think another. That was exactly what he meant. He was thinking something else entirely, he didn't ca-
Her hair whipped around her face as she spun, her body already preparing for a fight. Yet again, the feeling of being watched left her as soon as it came. But her back still tingled, right at the base of her neck, and she knew what she saw. This time, it wasn't fast enough to get away, and Sonya caught a glimpse of black hair and a mask.
She was being followed.
All rigthy, end of this chapter. Well, I don't know what you guys think of the story after reading this chapter, but I know that it's not really Mortal Kombat action packed like it should be, so I'm going to try and spice it up a bit more. Yeah, the fight scene here was bland, but that's because Tsung just wasn't into it. Also, if it seems a little slow, let me know. I want to start moving it along, but I don't want to move to quick and leave everyone doing a double take, holding up signs reading: What the $&*^$ just happened? I guess right now, I'm just dropping clues for you, hoping to keep your interest by making you think: Now what the hell is that about? Or who is that person? Or something like that.
Oh, and I'm working with Tsung in a different way, but if you think he's too OOC, let me know how you think he should act, and I'll see if it is applicable. I'm also game for suggestions for future chapters. You can post them in reviews, or send them out to ChibiSonya or myself by e-mail.
Take care, and let's get out some more chapters in less time! (Yeah, right, but one can hope.)
