Egad, yet another fighting game story? Yes. It's also another very old story that I finally finished. It's a weird-ass idea but dammit, I'll stick with it!

Toned down Bryan's psychopathy. Though he's still a super crude, super brutish, super unpredictable, super selfish, glorious douchebag, I added some layers to him. You just have to see what those are.

He also talks a lot more here so think Tekken 6 Scenario Campaign Bryan when/if you read this.

Note, this story won't be so pleasant at times so uh be warned. Also it's super sexually graphic so I'm breaking my own rule by posting it here but fuck it, have it anyway

And as always, thank you for reading.

*Part 1*

Promises

Josie was not at all surprised to see the number of people who had betted on her opponent as opposed to her. She was after all a skinny, little girl going against a large man, who could bench-press three times her size. But that meant more money for her and her family if she won.

Gearing up, she stepped into the arena, ignoring the anxiety that bubbled inside of her, spurred on by the numerous men in the audience cat-calling her as if they had never seen a woman before.

Their emotions and the energy stemming from them burrowed their way into her mind and she hurried her walk past them, trying to avoid any hands that reached out for her. Her mother would probably have slapped her if she knew what she was doing right now. Thankfully Josie had been doing this long enough without worrying about her parents finding out.

Amongst the crowds and their emotions, there was something different. Not lust, ridicule, or greed but a chaotic glee that caused a faint stabbing pain in her chest and a chill shooting down her spine; making her take note of how icy, that particular presence was. Josie closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm her psychic curse; trying to ignore all the sensations and impressions that flocked to her body.

Soon metal music started playing from a set of nearby speakers and the crowd cheered loudly as her opponent entered the arena. The king of fighters, he was called. Before long he stood in the arena, looking her up and down; quiet, judging. Josie sensed his aggressive arrogance and assumed that he would probably go easy on her until he realized that she was not some helpless git.

The man charged at her, hoping to grab her and end the match quickly but she quickly jumped out of the way, responding with a kick to the man's back, which he shrugged off as if it was nothing. He managed to land a hit in her gut, that knocked the air out of her lungs. She fell to her knees, clutching her stomach as she gasped for air.

"I don't think you belong here, little girl," he spoke at her.

Josie said nothing and retaliated with a quick uppercut that landed a direct hit. The man stumbled backward, clutching his jaw, surprised that a girl her size could pack such a punch. He charged at her again but this time, she grabbed his arm, swept his leg, and threw him onto the floor with a loud thud, that had the whole arena shaking.

The arrogance in his energy had shifted to rage and the audience cheered on, though it did little to mask their surprise. The man took a swing at her, and Josie moved around him, punching him to a pressure point around his neck, which ended the match quickly.

The man fell to the floor and Josie was declared the winner. Silence echoed through the arena as the reality of what had just transpired settled in. Soon cheers roared through the crowd, and she did not need her abilities to point out their excitement or their lust over an innocent-looking woman, who knew how to fight. She shot a panicked glance at her opponent, who was knocked out cold. She wondered if she had overdone it but tried to remain in high spirits. He would not feel much tomorrow aside from a sore neck.

After Josie had left the arena, she headed to the nearest bank still open with her reward, marveling at the prize. She made sure that the money was paid to her bank account and then left, feeling content with her work. Outside, the night air felt like a blessing, soothing her body and soul.

That was until she felt that same cold presence from the arena, the one amongst the crowd that had made her chest hurt. She tried to continue on her way home as if nothing bothered her, but the presence grew stronger, almost as if it was chasing after her. She looked around but didn't note anything out of the ordinary. Yet this strange presence loomed over her like a wet blanket, igniting her curse.

There was little Josie could do now aside from hurrying her pace and eventually running as if her life depended on it. Mostly because it probably did. The amount of negative energy, she felt was unlike anything, her curse had picked up before. So now, she was sprinting down the empty street. She wanted to stop, crawl into a hole somewhere and cry.

But she couldn't, because of a powerful force chasing her. A mishmash of fury and danger. It truly felt like she was being stalked by a bloodthirsty beast. And yet, amidst all that ferocious hunger for chaos, there was a tiny speck of something else. She couldn't put her finger on it, but it was something melancholic. A bitter desolation that had made Josie pity them a bit.

Soon, she made a beeline through a side street, hoping she could rest there. Eventually, her legs gave out underneath her and she collapsed on the pavement, panting hard. Her chest hurt as if her lungs were about to burst out of her throat. Her legs quivered with tiredness as she cast a look backward. A figure blocked the path out of the alleyway, coming closer.

"I haven't even touched you and already you're running away as if I had. No doubt you're the one," an unfamiliar voice said followed by a malicious chuckle.

The bright light from the street behind him obscured his appearance but Josie could see subtle hints on his face. It was a scarred face with eyes as cold as ice and a grin that rejoiced at the chaos of this world. And behind it all, was apathy and a strong hatred of everything. A miasma in the shape of a cold melancholy and intense misanthropy was what she felt when she saw him.

"Okay tell me. What can you see?" he asked.

"Fr-from you?"

"Who else, brainiac?"

Letting that insult slide, Josie brushed some dirt off her and stood up, trying to assess him to the best of her curse.

"You like destruction and chaos. You don't feel an addiction to death, but you don't have a problem with it. And you…," she paused, thinking as blurred images and sensations formed in her mind. "You hate humans because of… because of something that happened to you. No, many things."

The images faded away, unclear as they were. She hoped she was correct. But Josie's skin ran cold as the blade of the knife flashed against the streetlight. The sly smirk on his face faded somewhat and in a split second, he looked ready to kill her as he walked closer. But instead, he shoved the knife back into its hilt and stopped.

"I guess you're the one with the gift after all. Not bad. Be happy you're something I can use."

Josie was unsure of what to say so she looked down. Being referred to as "something" did little to stop the tears from building in her eyes. She heard an annoyed grunt emerge from him as she wept and then quickly wiped her eyes. So, he wouldn't end her life, and he didn't mock her abilities, even calling them a gift. For now, she was safe. She hoped.

"Please don't kill me…," she looked at him.

"I won't. I need you alive and well."

"Huh?"

The man clicked his tongue. "There are some special people who can help with those powers of yours. And I'm tasked to bring you to them."

Josie blinked, trying to comprehend the events that unfolded before her. An unknown group of people knew of her powers, and they wanted her for some reason. She let her curse do its magic and was somewhat relieved to find out that the man wasn't lying to her.

Yet even as an uneasy feeling gathered in her stomach, she grew curious about the promise of getting her curse under control. Maybe even removed entirely.

"Can they help me rid of it?"

A sudden laughter escaped the man as he stepped closer, the cold stare icier than before. "You want them gone, huh? Sure, they can probably do that. They got big plans for you."

This wasn't a lie either even a speckle of doubt emerged within the man. She was honestly a little more worried but figured that perhaps this was for the best. Her powers were far from a blessing and more of a curse to her life. She lacked friends; she lacked a life. Her parents tried to cheer her up, encouraging her to hide her powers and ignore them but no matter what she did, they were an obstacle to living a life worth living.

Though her memory was severely impaired, she did not doubt that her powers had been a hindrance throughout her whole life. If these people, whoever they were, could help her get rid of them, she would take that chance.

"Okay. Then let me just… talk to my family then," Josie said softly, trying to figure out a million excuses as to why she suddenly decided to leave them.

She didn't want to make her parents worry, so she thought it better to lie to calm their minds. Making a work-related excuse would sit better than the actual truth. With her out of the house and her recent victory prize, it meant she had the means to back up her lie even though she would be actually leading herself into stranger territory if she followed this man.

Would it be worth it? Josie hoped it would.

On the way home, in small suburbia of cheap houses, located outside the city, Josie was a little uneasy by the fact that this stranger followed her. She could feel his presence loom behind her as she walked and she worried, that she'd have to explain him to her parents.

"Keep quiet about the deal. And be quick," he growled behind her and stopped as she approached one of the houses, thankfully opting to stay outside. Josie swallowed as she hurried to the front door and entered. The entryway was filled with shoes and coats and umbrellas, belonging to a large family of seven.

"Josie! Good to see you back home. There's dinner in the oven," her mother emerged from the living room, still wearing her apron. Josie sensed her exhaustion but a happy motherly glee over having her eldest daughter in the house. It broke her heart to relay her decision to her hard-working mother.

"Your dad is gonna be home around midnight. How was your day?" mother continued with a bright smile.

"Mom," Josie began, trying to select among a myriad of practiced excuses. "I'm gonna be away for some time."

Her mother's eyes widened in surprise as she watched her daughter gather the leftovers in a box. "Why?"

"I got a new modeling gig, across the country. Got paid in advance too," Josie hacked through her words as she fumbled with her purse and wrote out a check for her prize money to her family. She looked nervously at her mother who reluctantly accepted the check, catching her breath on the amount.

"Are you gonna be all right? You have never been good with leaving home."

"I'm going to be fine. No worries!" Josie forced a smile and skipped past her mother to hide the tears that started welling up in her eyes. This was for the greater good, to leave and get rid of this curse. But leaving her family left her emotional.

It would remove the burden on her and her family. It was bound to make them happy!

Taking a pair of bags, she grabbed about all the needed items; clothes, toothbrush, hair products, a book for good measure, and whatever else, she could stuff down there. Before leaving, she pushed open the door to her siblings' room, smiling as she saw all four of them sleeping soundly. She gave her mother a long and tight hug, resisting the urge not to break down and cry even when the tears came rolling down her cheeks.

"Take care. Tell me all about it when you get back home," her mother spoke softly, and she nodded with a faint smile before leaving the home.

Further down the street, she let the tears fall as she hurried off to the shadows where the stranger stood. There was a dead gleam in his eye as he looked her over. He said nothing as she wiped her eyes dry and then shot a glance at the window to the kitchen where her mother stood, drying her eyes.

The man left the shadows of nearby trees and they headed into the dead of night, stalking the street with Josie following right behind him.

She watched as he pulled up a hoodie over his pale, white hair. Looking at him from behind, he reminded her of an elderly man but he wasn't that old, she'd reckon. How old was he anyway? Maybe it was dyed. He truly did look like a shadow, walking around like that. There were very few people in the streets now and the few that were present paid no mind to him. Or Josie for that matter.

"So where are we going?" she asked, walking up next to him.

"North."

"Is it far away from here?"

"Who knows."

"How long will it take?"

"Days."

"Can't we take the bus?"

"No."

"Why not? It will be faster."

"Shut up."

And sullenly, she did. For a short while. This was gonna be a long ride if she had no one to talk to. She braced herself to ask her final question.

"Uh, so what's your name?"

"Why?"

"Why not? I need something to call you by."

He stopped and looked at her as if she had gone mad. Josie couldn't assess his mood by his cold gaze alone, but she was not surprised to feel the aggravation behind those blue eyes. She did not need her power to know that.

"Uh so my name is Josie Rizal," she said to try and alleviate the tension.

"I know," the man shrugged, fumbling through his pocket to pull out a crumpled sheet of paper. On it was some information on Josie; her name, her address, her occupation, and her age.

"Oh. I see," She swallowed the bitter pill of feeling so exposed. She didn't recognize the symbol of the stamp in the corner of the paper. Before long, he clenched it and shoved it back into his pocket, fishing for something else.

"Are you always this peppy? Hopefully, this will shut you up for a while," he groaned and pulled out something shiny, tossing it to her.

It was a set of military dog tags that read "Bryan Fury."