A.N: Heavily inspired by The Scar by DeathBlade131313. This story is a retelling of the Mortal Kombat 9 (or 2011) with new characters, taking place from the viewpoint of one of two superpowered vigilantes, Oz (Hall McClane), a Brit gifted with psychic powers, and Ash (Lisa Walton), an American who can control fire. The title of each chapter will be the name of the person that chapter takes place from.
Disclaimer: I only own Ash and Oz, nothing else.
Without further ado, please enjoy the first chapter of Mortal Kombat: Vigilantes.
It was a beautiful night. The moon shown like a spotlight on the stage, adding to the glow already provided by the many torches scattered around the yard. I would have admired the sight more, maybe even drawn a portrait of it, but I couldn't for three reasons. One, I didn't have my canvas or paints. Simple, right? Reason two, I was in costume. Three, I was most likely in much more dire circumstances than I would prefer. I quickly took inventory of my equipment. Collapsible staff? Check. Gauntlet? Check. Superpowers? I smiled at my little in-joke. Check.
It would probably do some good to explain who I am and what the hell I'm talking about.
My name is Hall McClane. I'm 23 years old, born, raised, and still live in London, England. My early life was normal enough until my late teens, when my powers began to manifest themselves. I'm psychic, you see. And not one of those bullshit "I can see the future" psychics either. I mean a real psychic. I can read minds, communicate telepathically, etc. I have some telekinetic abilities as well, like moving objects or people with my mind and levitation or, if need be, flight. Right now, you must be thinking "That's cool and all, but what's with the gadgets?" Well...
A few years ago, I was one of very few survivors of a mass shooting that killed over 50 people, including my parents. After that, I taught myself several forms of martial arts, perfected the use of my still-developing powers, created my gear, donned a costume, and became a vigilante, dedicated to ridding the streets of crime. My original costume was just a black hoodie and a scarf that covered the lower half of my face. I adopted the emerald green t-shirt and black trenchcoat with a mask that only covered my eyes, as well as my alias, Oz, after one of the people I saved referred to me as a "wizard" (if you don't get the reference, you had no childhood).
I have one rule, though: no killing. I'll use weapons when I have no other choice (hell, I keep two blunted throwing knives in the folds of my trenchcoat), but never to kill. After what I explained earlier about the deaths of my parents and roughly 48 other people, that should be understandable.
Eventually, my vigilante activities must've caught somebody's attention. After a night of putting thugs behind bars, I found a scroll waiting for me in my flat, inviting me here. Where is "here", exactly?
The Mortal Kombat tournament. Only the best fighters on Earth are invited, so, naturally feeling honored, I decided to attend. The reward: a massive amount of prize money, which could be useful to me. I boarded an oriental-looking boat that picked me up on the pier near my flat, which brought me to this island in the arse-end of bloody nowhere.
And right now, I'm in a single-file line with the other combatants, waiting for the tournament to start. Everybody else is big and brawny. I'm not afraid of them. I may not the most physically imposing guy, but my powers more than make up for that little drawback. Suddenly, a gong sounds. Drums begin to sound off. Several figures emerge from behind the stage. One of them, obviously the leader, is an old man, with long grey hair and an equally long grey beard. He wore black pants, black boots, and an oriental-style robe. He is accompanied by two attractive young women, one light-skinned and wearing blue, the other tanned and wearing green, and an inhumanly ugly man with large fangs and sickly yellow skin. The old man raises his hands and silences the drums. "Combatants! I am Shang Tsung and in the coming days each of you will fight. Some of you are here by your own volition. Others were brought here by chance." He gestures at several people, myself included.
To my right, somebody speaks. "Hey beautiful, Johnny Cage." Cocky, self-centered, egotistical. American, judging by the accent. I watch out of the corner of my eye. The voice came from a tall-ish guy with brown hair and sunglasses. He was wearing a sky blue suit with a partially unbuttoned red shirt. His tie hung loosely around his neck. The comment was directed at a blonde woman wearing SWAT gear. "Good for you," the woman responds dutifully. She is also American. "What, 'Massive Strike'? 'Citizen Cage'? 'Ninja Mime'? None of those ring a bell?" The guy, obviously driven solely by the thought of sex, pressed. The woman looked at something behind the stage. "Kano..." "'Kano'? Wasn't in that one," The guy said, his narcissistic personality not allowing him to see she was clearly referring to something, or someone, else.
Shang Tsung began to speak again. "You participate in the most important Mortal Kombat in history! This tournament, the tenth out of nine Outworld victories, will determine Earthrealm's fate. If you defeat all of your opponents, you will face one final challenge…me." Not surprising. I could tell that there were many, many years of martial arts experience behind that insane beard of his. But what the bloody hell was with the "Earthrealm" and "Outworld" crap?
Meanwhile, the jerk in the suit was still trying to pick up the SWAT woman, who was clearly getting more and more pissed. I decided that I couldn't let the harassment continue.
"Look, she said she's not interested. Drop it," I said, as nicely as I could under the circumstances. The guy looked at me. "Butt out, Limey. Isn't it time for tea? How about a scone?" He said rudely, mocking my accent. I snarled. "I said drop it, wanker! Now!" He flipped me off and returned his attention to the blonde woman. That was it. Time for humiliation. I used my telekinetic powers to force him to slap himself multiple times, hard and loud enough to attract everybody else's attention. I grinned. "What's wrong arsehole? Finally trying to give yourself common sense?" He grimaced angrily and pointed at me. "You made me do that! I don't know how, but you did!" I crossed my arms, still grinning. "I can do a lot worse than that. Back off or I'll show you," I warned, preparing to use my powers to break his arm. "Why you British sonuva...!"
"Yes, Mr. Cage, back off." Suddenly, Shang Tsung was right behind us. Cage and the woman jumped. I couldn't help but gasp in surprise myself. I could have sworn he never even moved. Shang Tsung looked at me. "And as for you, 'Oz'," he smiled evilly. "You will be an interesting one."
Before I could ask what the bloody hell he meant, he spoke up again. "Ladies and gentlemen, the Mortal Kombat Tournament starts now!"