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Chapter 10
Reptile's thoughts had never been so clear. There were few things he could not do when focused, and now every piece of him desired only one thing: blood. The blood of a god. The blood of the one who'd ruined his life. He would kill Straw-hat or die trying. Either way, he'd be free at last.
Reptile spent a time in the vampire town recuperating. After two weeks, his wound had healed and he'd regained enough strength to travel freely. Late one night, Reptile snuck out of the hut the vampires had given him. He slipped through the sleeping town, the soothing heartbeats of the residence lulling his legs to stop. And that's when he realized: a part of him didn't want to leave. The short amount of time he'd spent in this vampire town had been peaceful. The air was clean and the residence didn't look at him as an expendable soldier or a soulless monster. For the first time in Reptile's life, he was happy.
And now he was going to leave this place of calm and attempt an impossible task. Straw-hat was as immensely strong as any god had the right to be. He had killed hundreds of Skull-mask's strongest minion's with ease. He could've killed Skull-mask himself if his powers weren't neutralized in Outworld.
Reptile thought to himself; perhaps that would work.
"You're just going to leave?" asked a voice above him.
Reptile had reached the outskirts of the town; he was sure he was free. But Bat-wings fluttered down, graceful leather appendages beating wind then rustling silent as she landed. "You don't have to leave," she continued softly.
"I must," he growled, not wanting to make eye contact with the vampire: fearful her gaze would carry him back. "I must avenge my people. I must kill him, Bat-wings."
"Why do you call me Bat-wings?" she asked gently. There was no sarcasm or condescending in her voice, just simple curiosity.
"Skull-mask, Shao Kahn, never allowed me to use his name or the name of his queen or minions. He said a beast such as me did not deserve to use names. I did not deserve a name. So he called me Reptile," he said simply.
"You're not his minion. He betrayed you, he used you. You may call me Nitara."
He growled.
"If I can't stop you, then take this." Bat-wings, Nitara handed the Raptor a strange package wrapped in cloth. Confused, Reptile undid the bindings of his gift.
The moon's light from above gleamed reflection off of metal.
"It's a kirehashi blade," Nitara explained. "I had our blacksmiths replicate the one I'd given you before, with a few added improvements. Use it how you like, kill who you like. This sword may kill a god."
Silence; awkward tranquility.
"If you survive what ever you're planning to do, you will always be welcome in this realm."
Leather wings beat the air as the vampire began to fly. But just before she disappeared behind the trees, a gust of wind blew through her. Though a vampire's nose was not as keen as a Raptor's, the smell in the air was undeniable. Blood!
"Reptile," she gasped, but he had noticed it as well. He was already racing back to the village.
It took him no less than a minute to reach the village.
A foul scent was in the air. Over the smell of blood and smoke: the unmistakable stench of the half-breed Tarkatas. Acid dripped out of his maw as he entered the battlefield and slew one of the half-breeds, his kirehashi blade cutting beautifully through the neck of the half-breed.
More of the foul half-breeds came. Nitara beside him, Reptile cut through whole mobs of the Tarkatas, impaling faceless forms with ease. He parried with one of the half-breeds as his foot flew up and crushed another's skull. Acid climbed up his throat and drenched two Tarkatas as his kirehashi blade cut through a third's throat.
The smell of blood was overwhelming, intoxicating; the thrill of battle all consuming. But Raptors were mortal. Reptile didn't know how many he'd slain before his muscles began to tire. Dozens of corpses were strown about him, dozens more fell as his blade swung. The Tarkatas had forgotten about pillaging the town, the entire vile army was against him know. He knew the danger if he stopped.
Reptile had lead Tarkatas into battle against Edenia. He knew how they behaved when left to their own devices. If he fell while even one was still alive, it would procceed to slaughter the town. The vampire's he'd come to trust, to love, would all die because of his weakness.
Blades locked.
The Raptor and a Tarkata stood, neither able to overcome the other's might. "Reptile," the half-breed cackled.
"Baraka," the lizard hissed.
Reptile broke the embrace and took a few steps back. "Finally learned my name?" the Tarkata laughed. "Pity you will lose your body again."
Baraka charged forward, the blades in his arms extending. Reptile locked one of the swords and held the half-breeds other wrist. The tip of the blade was mere inches from the Raptor's throat.
Acid burst out of Reptile's lips and burned Baraka's face. He stumbled back in pain. The Tarkata minions suddenly swarmed upon Reptile, and once more he was forced to cut his way through bone and flesh.
A blade entered his rib. Reptile swung his sword and decapitated one of the half-breeds behind him.
More of the vile creatures pounced upon him and beat him to the ground. Reptile swung and killed a dozen Tarkata, but more came in their place. Desperate, he shoved the bodies out of his path and raced a few feet to one of the village's cabins. He positioned himself with his back against a wall as the horde ascended upon him.
Blades parried and clanging filled the night.
More Tarkata fell. There were still maybe a dozen left when Reptile's arm fell to his side. Try as he might, he'd run out of strength. That's it, he'd failed.
The Tarkata moved slowly to him, Baraka at the lead. Through his needle like teeth came a chuckle. An arrow entered his arm and the half-breed roared in pain.
Reptile had kept the horde at bay long enough for the vampires to armor. Now, the warrior race did what Reptie had failed. They murdered what Tarkata remained, save for one.