THE COMING OF WINTER
Part 3 of 4: Section 3 written by Victar
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Part 3 Section 3
Shang Tsung's lackeys concealed their faces underneath hood-masks in the vague shape of a wolf's head. The masks were colored black on one half, white on the other, with eye slits were tinted deep red. When I showed the hooded drones my invitation, they allowed me to board Shang Tsung's vessel "Dragon Wing." "Dragon Toothpick" would have been a more accurate designation. Its planks creaked raucously. The mast leaned so far to the right it threatened to break off, and the sails were covered with holes and threadbare patches. Water seeped into the below decks, which the crew had to bail out twice a day. The wood was decaying, the rivets were loose, and the ropes were badly frayed. If Shang Tsung truly was a thousand years old, he must have acquired this boat when he was eighteen.
Dragon Wing would have been rotting at the bottom of the sea if not for the web of necromantic Power that kept it bound together. Afterimages of spent life force pulsed beneath the surface of every splinter. Shang Tsung had invested a great deal of mystic energy in this boat, much more than what any Lin Kuei could expend from his own psyche. There was only one way the sorcerer could have gotten it - large scale human sacrifice. Perhaps animal sacrifice as well, but the life force of animals is not as adaptable to sorcerous manipulation. Dragon Wing was an artifact of pure evil, christened in slaughter and mortared with lifeblood.
One of the Lin Kuei's few redeeming points is that they no longer engage in necromancy. Once, clan members with the Power hunted whole villages of victims to fuel their supernatural might. Other gangs and warlords soon recognized the threat, and united against it. The resulting catastrophe was nearly the Lin Kuei's end. Only a fifth of the clan survived. The bloodlines with Power over Stone and Light were completely wiped out, and for a time it seemed the Ice bloodlines had been. Clan law handed down since that time forbids using necromancy to augment one's Power, on pain of immediate death. The queasy feel of blood-sacrifice Power is so strong, so unique that one cannot hide it from a Lin Kuei. No clan member has broken the law in centuries and lived to tell of it.
The sun was sinking below the horizon when Dragon Wing reached Hong Kong, its final port before the trip to Shang Tsung's island home. A crowd of warriors boarded, bringing the total number of passengers to approximately fifty. I might have to duel with any of them in the upcoming Tournament, so I carefully watched them from atop the upper decks, unnoticed.
Two of the new entrants stood out from all the rest. One was a Chinese man, relatively nondescript except for his age. He could not have been over twenty-five, possibly making him the youngest person on the boat. Most of the warriors on Dragon Wing were in their thirties or close to it. The young fighter carried himself with the relaxed grace of a professional. His clear brown eyes were instantly perceptive. When his gaze swept past where I crouched, he gave no sign of seeing me, but I think he did. What surprised me the most was his Power. The essence of Fire existed within him, yet it had a different texture than Ember's rapacious burning, or Sektor's angry sputtering. His Fire was cleaner somehow, and brighter, even though its raw magnitude would have been dwarfed by Pyre's sheer might.
The other passenger of note was Caucasian. Every once in a while, he'd take a hand-held comb and run it through his brown hair. His light blue suit with matching tie and pink shirt seemed outlandish compared to the loose clothing all the other fighters wore. He kept his mirror-like dark glasses on well past sunset. Though not out of shape, he appeared scrawny compared to some. I knew better than to trust appearances. Traces of unfamiliar Power clung to him, leaving faint echoes in his wake.
Commotion occurred as Dragon Wing launched that evening. A white-dressed man carrying a two-handed firearm sprinted down the dock, pursued by two others in dull green. He fired his weapon into a pair of barrels, igniting their contents. They exploded in a burst of violence, distracting his pursuers and buying him time. Dropping his weapon, he hurled himself off the end of the dock. Dragon Wing was over ten meters away, and its crew seemed disinclined to turn back. Judging by the arc of his leap, he was going to fall short; until, with a minor burst of Power, he tucked himself into a ball and somersaulted end over end. Whatever Talent he'd unlocked supported him well past when he should have plunged into the water. It gave out quickly, leaving him less than a quarter second to unroll and seize Dragon Wing's rim. He winced as his body slammed into the boat's side, and pulled himself aboard.
"Dude, was that real?" asked the man in sunglasses, astonished. He spoke in English, with a strong American accent.
"No, it's an illusion..." sneered the new arrival. Then he did a double take. "Hey, you're Johnny Cage! Can I have your autograph?"
Now the newcomer was close enough for me to get a good look at him. His short, scruffy black hair was thinning at the edges, and swept into a prominent widow's peak on his forehead. Several days' worth of unshaved stubble covered his face. Layers of unwashed grime darkened his skin. The breeze that ruffled Dragon Wing's sails also carried evidence of his poor hygiene. His left eye was brown. His right was a glowing red lens, set into a metal implant covering a quarter of his face. There could be no mistake. This was Kano, current overlord of the Black Dragons. He was widely credited with turning what was once a fading, broken-down set of loosely affiliated gangs into an international organized crime cartel, and one of the Lin Kuei's stiffest competitors.
Perhaps I'd have the chance to kill him, once Shang Tsung was disposed of.
"C'mon, Cage, say it! 'I'll be back!'" The crack of Kano's fist hitting Cage's jaw brought me out of my musings. Cage's sunglasses fell to the ground, uncovering his sky-blue eyes.
"That wasn't my movie!" the actor retorted, shading his eyes with one hand.
"Get up Cage! You got no stunt men to take hits for ya here!"
"I do my own stunts!"
A pair of gangsters accompanied Kano. With vicious leers on their faces, all three hoods advanced upon the fallen actor. The one on the right smacked his fist into his hand, sniggering.
"I'd say the movie star is unfairly outnumbered," came a new voice. It was the Fire-tinged young man I'd noted earlier.
"Who the fuck are you?" Kano snapped.
"My friends call me Liu Kang. You are not a friend."
By then, Cage's vision had adjusted to the loss of his sunglasses. He took advantage of the distraction to recover his footing. His Power flared, propelling him forward with a lunging kick to Kano's head. Caught by surprise, the outlaw had no time to defend himself. Before Kano's two friends could step forward to help him, Liu Kang soared into them with a swiftness surpassing anything I'd ever seen. He flew through the air, driving his extended heel into the chest of one gangster. When the second gangster made a grab for Liu Kang's neck, he ducked and snapped a kick at the man's ankles. As the gangster toppled over, Liu Kang accelerated his attack into a spin, whipping fully around and hooking his extended leg so that it dug into the falling man's side.
Kano and his friends were all stretched upon the ground, in varying degrees of consciousness. The altercation was over as quickly as it had begun. I made a note to be wary of Liu Kang's speed and Cage's timing.
Lin Kuei...
I'd been so engrossed in the struggle below that I wasn't aware of what crept upon me until too late. A hard, bony hand grasped my throat. My assailant was - another Lin Kuei? No. While his outfit and mask exactly matched the cut of the clan's ceremonial uniform, it was ochre-yellow and black. No Lin Kuei wears those colors. His garb was a mockery of mine.
Look into my eyes! The voice was hollow, yet compelling. I had no choice save to obey. At first his eyes were featureless expanses of white; then they came to life with a rupture of blinding energy...
A puppy was barking. I saw my own silhouette through the eyes of stranger, and felt a black dagger slice into my throat. My mouth worked of its own accord, saying "What do you want? I have little, but if you want to steal something take it! Just don't hurt my wife and child!" The silhouette silently thrust his weapon between my ribs, into my heart. "Why...?" Sinking back and down, I heard a woman's screams, a child's wailing, and the yipe of a dog being kicked.
The scene slipped away. Once again, I was staring into the eyes of a man who held me by the neck - no, not a man. Not anymore. He had no breath and no pulse. His Power was fueled with pure rage. Hatred burned inside him, so fiercely that its heat made me flinch.
"No!" I gasped. "It can't be... I... I..."
Yesss... you murdered me exactly two years ago this day. But my demons have allowed me to return and avenge my death! You have already cheated me of vengeance on Pyre. Your demise will be all the more agonizing for it! He raised me off the ship's floor. Dangling in his steel grip, I was too shocked to fight back as his hand tightened upon my throat. I could kill you at this moment, but I am not a murderer. We will meet at the tournament, and then, Lin Kuei, you will pay for your crimes.
He let go of my neck. I collapsed, clutching my throat with my uninjured hand. The specter remained in front of me, a blazing pillar of malice.
"You are - choke - a fool for sparing my life."
That has yet to be seen.
"I see you had to come through our sewers. Messy, aren't they?" laughed the demoness, eyeing the stains of gore covering my tattered uniform. "Things have been a teeny bit rough around here, lately. Lots of folks just disappeared. You're trying to make your way out, aren't you? Well, I wish I could help you, but I won't."
I concentrated on keeping the Power close at hand and tried to get up. My legs were weak, and not solely because of the electrical shock I'd just experienced. Dizziness briefly forced me to take my eyes off the vision of loveliness, and stare at the floor instead.
"Don't turn away like that," she pouted. "I've other matters to attend to. It isn't as if I owe you anything... or do I?" She leaned back. Her wings dissolved into a cloud of bats, which darted underneath her. Their silent fluttering suspended her as if she were seated in an invisible throne. She crossed her legs and held out one hand. A shimmer of light appeared upon her palm; it quickly resolved itself into an elegant booklet. Her slender fingers flipped through its pages for an instant; then she closed the booklet, and it promptly vanished in a tiny shower of sparks.
"Of course, you don't have to try to go back." The demoness slipped off her chair of hovering bats and advanced toward me, with a fervid look in her sea-green eyes. "You could always stay down here, with me." She tossed her vivid tresses, the color of which blended with the radiant ward nearby. "Who knows? You might even come to like it here."
"I cannot stay. There is a contract I must carry out," I told her, quietly, keeping the Power ready. It was draining, to summon and merely hold the Power, but I needed to stall for more time before I could take action. I took a half-dragging step to the side, not yet able to walk normally. The ward was directly behind me now, and the demoness in front.
"Forget about that. Forget about everything." She'd come so close I could feel the soft whisper of her breath on my face.
She smelled of jasmine and long summer nights. "Come. You can be my Champion. I crave a new protector. Someone to keep me safe from all harm. You'll be excellent."
"You already have a wolf-drake bodyguard."
"Balthazaar? Oh, he's a dear, but he's one of the Overlord's minions. The Overlord and his entourage are due back from their latest battle any moment now. He's so cranky whenever he comes back from his silly war. Sometimes he takes it out on me. You wouldn't want that to happen, would you?" Her lower lip trembled. She reached for my shoulder; before she could touch it, I took her finely manicured hands in my own. If she felt the chill coating my palms, she gave no sign. "You're not worried about falling asleep in Limbo, are you? Don't be. I have ways of keeping men awake for a very long time." Her comeliness was matched only by her vulnerability.
"There is something I must ask of you, huntress," I whispered, clasping her hands a shade more securely.
"Yes?"
I pushed on her shoulder, spinning her around until her limbs were forced behind her back and holding her in a stiff armlock. At the same time, I wrapped my free right arm around her neck. "Deactivate the ward or I will kill you!"
Balthazaar sprang toward us with a howl, even though I was using his demon mistress as a living shield. Without letting go of her neck, I twisted my right wrist so that the fingers were pointing at him, and sent forth some of the Power I'd been storing. The Ice immobilized him in mid-leap, his slavering jaws fixed hardly a decimeter away from my face.
"Let me go! You're under my spell! I COMMAND YOU TO-" screamed the demoness, as I dragged her to the side. The Ice's effect on Balthazaar wore off, but by then we were no longer in his path. He hurtled into the ward that had been behind me.
It erupted in a furious discharge of lightning, which drowned out the demoness' piercing shrieks. When it subsided, Balthazaar lay on the ground. His jaws were slack and his fur was singed. A whimper escaped his lips. His paws twitched, jerkily.
"Your enchantments don't work on me," I warned. "With my Power in effect, I can be as cold as necessary in more ways than one." She uttered a wordless cry of wrath and dug the spike of her high heel into my foot. Her bats dived at my eyes and attempted to claw or bite through the fabric of my uniform. I didn't flinch. Though the attacks hurt, I've withstood worse before. Much worse.
"Cease that or you die this instant!" I commanded. To let her know I was serious, I constricted the hold on her throat and wrenched her head back, stopping short of breaking her neck. "I repeat, deactivate the ward or I shall kill you."
"You'll never get away with this! The Overlord will destroy you!"
"Perhaps, but you will still be dead."
Her bats stopped their attempts to tear out my eyes. Trails of familiar wetness crisscross-crossed my forehead and eyelids. The demoness was quaking, not from fear, but with rage. "I'm going to have you flayed alive-"
"This is the last time I shall say it: deactivate the ward around the golden stairs or die."
"No! You plan to kill me as soon as I'm no longer of use to you."
How perceptive of her. "Do as I say, and I shall show you mercy."
"Not good enough. I can imagine what your idea of 'mercy' is."
"I will release you unharmed. You have my word."
"How do I know I can trust you?"
"You don't."
She vacillated. Her chiropteran companions fluttered every which way in confusion, making faint squeaks. Balthazaar whined and flopped onto his belly.
"Kaa naama kaa lajeraama," the demoness seethed, through gritted teeth. The ward blinked off. "I've kept my half of the bargain. Now keep yours!"
"In a moment." I pushed her ahead of me, through where the ward had been; when no jolt of electricity resulted, I stepped onto the staircase. Despite its frail appearance, it held my weight as sturdily as cast iron. "Kaa naama kaa lajeraama!" I intoned, matching the vocal pitch she had used a moment earlier. The ward instantly reappeared.
She convulsed frantically, perhaps guessing my intentions. One of her arms worked free and she was about to elbow me in the stomach when I shoved her away, unharmed. She crashed into the ward and screeched when its electricity streamed through her body. I hadn't made any promises about what she might run into after I released her.
The demoness collapsed on the ward's far side. Her bats hovered over their prone mistress, almost appearing anxious for her well being. Balthazaar growled. He'd managed to push himself up on his front legs, though his hind legs were still limp and unresponsive. I could have deactivated the ward again and killed the succubus while she lay helpless, but I doubted Balthazaar would stand idly by while I did so. Though weakened, he posed enough of a threat that I'd have to destroy him before I could kill her, and I had no desire to hurt the animal.
In any case, my purpose was to slay Shang Tsung, not waste time on other stray demons. The decision made, I turned around and raced up the stairs two at time, following their spiral toward the exit overhead and all it represented: escape, freedom, and most importantly, another chance to kill Shang Tsung.
I continued at a steady sprint through and beyond Leucrotta Castle's topmost tower, unmindful of the fatigue accruing in my legs as the minutes ticked by. There could be no stopping to rest until I was free of this realm. I fixed my eyes on the crevice of light at the stairs' distant summit. The closer it came, the harder it was for me to see; soon I was navigating the stairs by feel, blinded by the intense sunlight. When oppressive warmth streamed on my skin, I knew I'd reached the surface of Limbo. Shading my eyes with one hand, I tried to distinguish the shapes in front of them.
One of the shapes hissed.
A creaking raawk and an unnatural, high-pitched whistle joined this hiss. All three sounds were familiar. They came from three darkened shadows ahead, silhouetted against the brilliant sunlight. A fourth shadow stepped in front of them, putting himself between my eyes and the orange orb in the sky. The first three shadows resolved themselves into a gold-furred rakshasa, a reptilian horror, and a metal devil. The fourth shadow remained a featureless mass of inky blackness.
"Hello, Subby," sneered the rouge Lin Kuei known as Saibot. "Did you miss us?"
end section three of part three
Disclaimer: Mortal Kombat belongs to the creation of Ed Boone and John Tobias and the Midway team. It was created in no way by either me or Victar. No part of this story may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic, or mechanical, without express permission by Victar. I did not write this story, but I had permission to post this, so if you want to talk to him about the fanfiction, go to Victar's website.