Note: OMG LI3K 2 UPDATES FROM AXIS IN 1 DAY?!?!?!?!
Yup. And as with my other 'fic, I won't be able to respond to any comments due to the powers that be... yah. Anyways, on a personal note, this is the first time I've EVER written an actual standard Bomberman deathmatch, so don't yells at moi if it sounds a little... strange.
Also, you'll score major brownie points for teh Axis if you count how many times I used any form of "Boom" in this chapter (as well as the latest chapter of my other 'fic). It's kinda hard to find another descriptive word... besides "blam," of course.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
Chapter Two: Combat
"Pommy! Don't stare at her like that! It's rude!"
"Myu! Pommy saw Bomberman staring, too! Don't even try to pin this all on Pommy!"
"What?! No, I wasn't!!"
"Yes, Bomberman was! Your eyes were following her all around the place! Bomberman's a pervert!"
"WHAT?! No, I'm not!"
Pommy fell over, laughing. Bomberman couldn't help but smile himself; even through all the accusation, he was having a good time. Pommy wiped away the tears of laughter from his face, and looked back at his friend.
"Well, what does Bomb want to do now? We already did what Pommy wanted to do…"
Bomberman tapped his foot has he stared off into space.
"Hmm… how 'bout we go see Pretty Bomber? I haven't seen her in a long time."
"Bomberman likes her, doesn't he?" Pommy grinned.
"N-no!" he blushed. "It's… it's just I haven't—"
"It's alright. Let's go and see Bomberman's girlfriend!"
"Pommy…"
-- -- -- -- --
"Cell B, Room 17, you are to report to the Combat Ward."
Bomberman awoke in a prison cell, his neck in pain.
"Repeat, Cell B, Room 17, you are to report to the Combat Ward."
He sat up in his cot, rubbing his forehead.
Twice in one day… who do these people think we are?
His living cell was small; save for the toilet-sink combo in the back corner, and the cot he was just lying on, there wasn't anything. The black walls were musty, covered with years of excess dirt buildup and slime, and the place smelled terribly. He stood up and walked over to the cell door, waiting for it to open.
Bzzt!
The electric collar around his neck shocked him slightly.
"Ow!" he jumped. "Dammit! I'm listening!"
He hated this place. It was a nightmare. A rather large guard soon appeared before him, wearing the same attire as those who had brought him here so long ago.
How long has it been?
The cell door slid open violently, grating loudly against the rail beneath it, and Bomberman stepped out, starting down the dark, narrow passageway. The guard's assault rifle poked him in the back as he walked, edging him to move quicker. He wanted nothing more than to turn around and drop him like Kurobon in a cocky mood, but he knew wouldn't be able to; not when there were soldiers covering every inch of this place. And considering the fact he couldn't use his bomb techniques here, he didn't want to risk it. He would get out of here someday.
There were small metallic collars attached over certain parts of his body, preventing any attacks he might use. He'd gotten used to them being around his wrists and ankles, but his neck would still get sore every now and then.
He turned a corner, cells lined up on either side of him, covering both the floor and ceiling. Prisoners moaned in agony as he passed, wishing for someone to come to their rescue. Bomberman shook his head; he felt completely helpless. He'd heard stories of prisoners dying because of malnutrition and dysentery before, and there was nothing he could do about it.
He wanted to go home, back to Planet Bomber to see the smiles on the faces of those he loved and held close to his heart, but that wasn't going to happen. He still didn't even know where he was. Besides being in a prison somewhere, where the hell was he? And were the others safe? So many questions filled his head that he couldn't answer. He hadn't seen any of them since they had been on that vehicle, and he worried if Pommy had made it out from those soldiers that ambushed them, alive.
He felt sick to his stomach.
The guard behind him aggressively pushed him forward.
"Pick up the pace, maggot." he said gruffly.
Bomberman rolled his eyes.
"Whatever you wish, your majesty." he said under his breath.
As soon as a small, dark chamber appeared, the guard kicked him inside and clasped the doors shut behind him.
Here we go…
HISS…
The chamber filled with a white fog, and a mechanical claw-like mechanism reached out from inside the wall in front of him. It shoved its needle-like tip into a groove on his neck collar roughly, and a crimson-red plate formed around his torso, taking the form of body armor. Another claw appeared from the ceiling and descended on him, forcing an old, jagged helmet of the same color onto his head.
The wall behind him opened up to reveal four more claws that latched themselves onto his wrist and ankle collars, wrapping his arms and legs in more red steel. A small, blue light appeared in front of him, and began scanning him from head to toe. A large, spider-like glove formed around his right hand, while his left was instantly shackled to a hook on his waist.
"Prisoner 963185, target identified," a cool female filled the small chamber. "Bomberman. Access to the Battle Chamber, granted."
As the wall behind him began to close, the claws all receded back into each of their respective slots, and the chamber shook; he was ascending.
"Maybe this time I'll be able to see the sky…" he said to himself.
It felt like an eternity since the last time he'd seen the sky. He sighed, shaking slightly in anticipation. These people, whoever they were, were playing with their lives, pitting them against each other in combat in a fight to the death. This was all just a game to them. Fathers were taken from their children, sons and daughters from their mothers… all so they could have a few minutes of entertainment.
It was despicable.
R-Rumble…
The chamber suddenly came to a complete stop, and the wall opened in front of him.
"Let's get this over with…"
He stepped out into the arena, nothing but walls surrounded him as the gate shut behind him, blocking his escape. It was like training back home at base, but worse.
Much worse.
-- -- -- -- --
Bomberman stood there in the corner, waiting for the order to begin. Another small light suddenly appeared before him and entered the small, green jewel embedded in his battle helmet.
"Attention, my noble warriors," a rather pompous voice bellowed throughout the complex. "I hope my… calling each of you here twice today hasn't worked you up too much…"
"Kiss the biggest part of my ass!!" he heard someone yell from across the area, surrounded by walls.
Bomberman grinned slightly for the first time in what felt like ages.
"But the Emperor has decided to stop by today, and I wanted to give him a show he could be proud to watch. Considering how each of you came out on top after your previous battles today, I rounded you up, again. Remember, the Emperor will be watching, so try not to screw up too bad this round…"
"Emperor this!!" another combatant yelled.
Bomberman pictured whoever that was grabbing his crotch right about now, and felt himself half-smile. At least these guys still had some sense of humor… even though they were probably all pissed they were going to fight, again.
"Three… two…" the same female voice began counting down in his helmet. "One… Battle."
The grid layout of the battle arena was exactly the same as it was back home, with the exception that the surrounding walls were stained with black burn marks from previous fires; no one bothered to keep this place clean.
He placed a bomb in front of a "soft" wall to his right and jumped around another corner, wanting to avoid the fire from the explosion. These "soft" walls looked sturdier than the brick walls they used back home that blocked off numerous parts the arena, but they fell the exact same way. Because of the strange energy that emanated in this place, the glove on his suit would only allow bombs to take the form of a spherical red ball of plasma-like energy from the small dome in his palm, about the size of a basketball. It was different, but thankfully, its firepower was the same.
Though he couldn't figure out why this whole thing was exactly like it was back home, but there was no time to think about it now—
Boom!
The soft wall crumbled, revealing a small holographic card with a picture of a four-leaf clover-like symbol with a diamond in the center; he dashed to where it was floating and grabbed it.
"Bomb up." the female voice said.
As he set two bombs down in front of two different soft walls, he could hear the explosions of distant competitors.
Boom!
One soft wall collapsed to reveal another holographic card, only this one had an image of three arrow-like symbols all pointing up.
"Speed up." the female voice said as he grabbed it.
He felt his body grow lighter as he turned a corner, setting two more bombs aside two more soft walls.
Boom! Boom!
They revealed two more cards: one with an image of a fireball on it, and the other another bomb.
"Bomb up. Fire up."
Boom!
The competitors were getting closer now.
He set three bombs down and jumped back; the explosion radius was going to be bigger this time.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
A rather long and lonely path appeared behind the fallen wall in front of him, and he dashed forward, hoping he wouldn't run into any of his opponents. He heard someone scream in agony as he planted yet another bomb; someone had just been killed.
Boom!
The wall fell to reveal another bomb card. Only this symbol had a large "P" over it.
"Power bomb."
He planted it in a rather open area, and dived behind a column to his right.
Ka-BOOM!
"Holy--!!"
Bomberman peered around the column and saw that the explosion of his Power bomb had set off that of another competitor's, killing him. One more…
He was thinking just like they wanted him to now. He had been pitted against so many others like this in the time he had been here, and had come out alive every time. His stomach no longer dropped as he defeated another, although the guilt would drive him mad soon enough. It wasn't like him to take the life of another; in fact, he would avoid doing it if the situation he was in allowed it, but here, everything was different. It was either him, or death. And he wasn't going to die. Not just yet.
He set the Power bomb back out in the open corridor, and set two more bombs on the walls in front of him.
Ka-BOOM! Boo-boom!!
The soft walls in front of him collapsed, revealing two more fire cards.
"Fire up. Fire up."
And there was the last opponent. Wearing the exact same suit as he was, only his was an azure blue; they locked eyes.
"Sorry, buddy." Blue said.
Instantly, they both dropped a bomb, and fell back.
Boo-Ka-BOOM!!
Bomberman's Power bomb burst open a soft wall next to him, revealing a card with a jagged boot on it. He turned, heading down the corridor to grab it as fast as his suit would allow.
"Bomb kick."
"Hah! Gotcha, pal!"
Bomberman flipped and saw that Blue had placed a bomb down behind him, blocking his only exit.
I don't think so.
Quickly, Bomberman dashed for it, and kicked it as hard as he could. As it slid down the path ahead, it exploded, its blast spreading out far and wide.
"No!!" he heard Blue scream.
Boom!
The bomb exploded, killing Blue behind a pillar to the right.
CLUNK.
Shattered pieces of his helmet landed next to Bomberman, scattering all over the ground. He was dead.
"You're alive." the female voice said through his helmet.
"Winner." she now echoed throughout the arena. "Prisoner 963185, Bomberman is the winner."
The columns and soft walls all disappeared, sinking into the floor below, and Bomberman stood alone in a gigantic, empty room.
"Congratulations, noble one." the pompous voice returned. "Your second victory today. The Emperor is proud."
Bomberman folded his arms; they rested uncomfortably on one another.
"Whatever."
"You may return to your cell, now," he continued. "With your life still intact."
Bomberman scoffed.
"Like it's in your place to decide who lives and who dies."
Bomberman headed back to the elevator in which he came from, a red light blinking above it wildly.
Nothing but the sounds of his footsteps could be heard as he made his way across the silent, empty room.
-- -- -- -- --
Dinner was especially disgusting that night as he sat alone in the back of Mess Hall. He popped his neck as he sat down at the empty table in front of him; it always felt nice to get that armor off after every battle. He stared down at the cheap rice and noodles they gave him, and took a bite.
Nasty.
Its taste was so raw, as if they had just let it sit there out in the open for who knows how long. Which he didn't doubt. Unfortunately, he had to eat something, or Death would get to him faster than he hoped for.
"I saw you out there today, man," a voice said. "You kicked ass, as usual."
A young man sat down across from Bomberman, setting his tray of equally disappointing food on the table.
"Uh, thanks." Bomberman replied quietly, swirling the thick noodles around in his bowl with an old pair of dirty chopsticks.
The dim light above them sparkled on their bowls, showing layers of grease that hadn't yet been cleaned. The young man's dark eyes were hidden behind his long, greasy black hair, a slight goatee forming on his chin, and his tattered clothes revealed him to be just as unhealthily thin as everyone else here.
"Name's Jack." he reached out his hand. "But everyone here just calls me 'J.'"
Bomberman reached out to shake his hand.
"Shiro." he replied. "But my friends used to call me Bomberman."
"Huh. Fitting for the circumstances at hand." Jack scratched his head.
Bomberman noticed Jack wasn't wearing any type of collar around his neck, or his wrists, for that matter.
"How did you see my fight?" he asked.
Jack took a drink from his dirty glass of water.
"Those of us who help out around here –y'know, laundry duty and stuff- can see the fights where we take breaks at."
Well, I see you guys have been doing your job… this place is filthy as hell.
Bomberman bit into his rice, but promptly spit it back out, instead grabbing his glass and drinking from it.
"Food's especially disgusting today, huh?" Jack watched as he ate. "That's because one of the cooks, Jerry, was killed earlier today."
"In the arena?" Bomberman frowned. "I thought you just said you guys didn't have to fight. Um, never mind… but I'm sorry to hear that."
"Nah," Jack bit into his rice and swallowed reluctantly. "Was murdered. By a couple of guards here."
"What?"
"Yup. Apparently, one of the guards made some bullshit remark about Jerry spitting at his face. So, he told some the higher-ups, and they killed him in his sleep. Went quietly, though. Which is a good thing, I guess."
"Oh my god…" Bomberman stared down in horror.
They both sat there in silence for a few minutes, slowly picking at the food in their bowls. Jack looked up at him.
"You wanna get out of here, don't ya?" he asked, a slight grin on his face.
Bomberman looked up.
"Hell yeah, I do." he answered. "As I'm sure everyone else here wants to."
Jack looked over his shoulder suspiciously, then leaned in closer to Bomberman.
"Well, ya didn't hear this from me," he whispered. "But rumor has it that there's this tournament coming up, and the winner gets to meet the Emperor in person."
Bomberman's eyebrow arched.
"And where did you hear this?" he asked rather skeptically.
"Overheard one of the guards talkin' about it. Apparently, there's been a prisoner here who's climbing the top of the leaderboards real fast. And he's only been here two years. I.D.'s 963-something."
Two years?! I've wasted that much of life here?!
"Well, anyways, the Emperor is hosting a tournament of the sixteen best warriors here. The winner meets him personally. Think I already mentioned that."
Bomberman just sat there in silence.
"Seein' if you don't get killed out there, the tournament takes place at Direl Fields. Don't know when, though. Sorry."
Bomberman looked up. "You mean… it takes place outside this prison? Out there?"
Jack nodded. "Yup. See, it's this huge, open arena" – he motioned with his arms – "with seats for crowds and everything. It only happens once every like five years or so, so the public hypes it like crazy. The emperor watches from a seat high above, and whoever wins, rides a platform up there to meet him and shake his hand. That's when you make your escape. You gotta be careful, though; there's bound to be guards patrolling the place. I've only heard stories of guys trying to get out…"
I'll bet.
Bomberman nodded. "But don't you wanna get—"
"Nah," Jack interrupted. "I figure I've got a good thing goin' here. As long as I help out around here, I don't have to go out there and fight. Not like you guys."
"Break it up, ladies," a group of guards stepped forward, leading everyone out of the hall and back to their cells, menacingly holding their rifles up to their chests.
Jack stood up.
"Well, nice meetin' you, Bomberman. I hope you get outta here. And I look forward to watching your future battles."
"Nice meeting you, too, Jack." he replied. "I mean 'J.' And thanks."
"Hey, don't mention it." he smiled, brushing the greasy hair from his face. "Anyone who fights like you do must want to get out and live to see another day."
He watched as Jack moved down the aisle between all the old, rusted tables, then stood up himself and followed.
-- -- -- -- --
He tossed and turned on his small bed as he tried to sleep. His body was tired from all the activity of the day, but he just couldn't close his eyes. Instead, he sat up and stared at the dark wall in front of him.
Two years? Has it really been that long?
He couldn't believe it, he wouldn't believe it. There was no way it could've been that long since he got here… could it? Is Pommy safe? Lilith? Rukifellth? Where have they been this whole time? Are they okay?
A million questions seemed to fill his head all at once. He knew he shouldn't have brought them to those ruins with him. Professor Ein was right…
"Professor Ein?" he looked up.
Did he know this was going to happen? Why didn't he warn me? How could he have not told me about all this?!
He silently cursed Professor Ein, shaking his fist slightly. Was this supposed to happen? He had no idea where he even was. Everything here seemed so… different. Not like back home.
"I have to get out of here," he told himself. "I'm going to find the others, and we're getting back home."
But how? That thing we used to get here was destroyed before we even landed…
He laid back down, staring up at the dark ceiling above him. There were so many questions he had, but he was going to find the answers to each one of them. All he had to do was get out of here.
"And that tournament's the key," he said quietly. "I'm going to make sure that the Emperor knows it's the 'Assassin' he's talking to. All I have to do is win every battle I'm thrown into."
He could do that. Just to see the smiles on his friend's faces was enough motivation to get out of here. And he was going to.
No matter what.