[Author's Note: This story takes place right before Witchblade issue 75. Part 5 of 5 in the Deathpool story arc. ]
"T—Toraaaaaaaaa. I'm coming. I'm coming very soon to take your life and send you to hell."
It was not a voice in the head, since becoming the man servant of Kenneth Irons Tora No Shi had been taking his psychiatric medications. What was calling out to him was real. A deep resounding voice full of malice and anger along with the hint of a British accent. It was definitely Nottingham. Ian Nottingham.
Eyes darting to and fro in paranoia, Tora No Shi patrolled the hallway of the 'Witchblade Bearers' adorned in a white T-shirt and grey sweatpants. The hallway was a baroque styled opulent room with small chandelier lights. The room's walls were colored in crimson and lined with portraits of females from the past such as Joan of Arc, Anne Bonny, Roxanne Laroque, Anabella Altavista, Lysandra of Greece, and Leung Lin Yao of China 722 AD. All beautiful women who had the inner strength that deemed them worthy to wield the Witchblade.
Toraaaaaaaaaaaa…
The voice was getting louder and louder, signaling that Ian was coming…..
Tora was caught in a catch 22. He could stay here and wait for Ian to come, or take his chances by running away, leaving NYC and the employ of Kenneth Irons. The latter in turn would prompt a man hunt sponsored by Irons to bring him down, and there was no doubt the billionaire would be able to follow through.
He could always go out and confront Ian. Take the fight to the British Assassin. Perhaps talk about the situation at hand and find a peaceful resolution…but no…..that was not an option. Tora was never that brave.
Whistling came from down the hall, the rolling of some type of cart. It was the late night janitor who was working hard to save for his kid's college tuition.
Tora let out a sadistic smile, "One more murder before fleeing." For killing was the only thing that satiated his passions and alleviated the madness of the mind.
Suddenly one of the windows at the end of the hallway shattered. Floating into the room was a man with long black hair, rippling muscles, and eyes void in nature.
"NOOO! Nottingham!" cried out Tora No Shi.
Ian turned to him, and began floating just above the red carpet that lay as the floor to the room. Tora turned to run, but as he did so large shards of metal flew right by his ear and slammed into the wooden door he was trying to flee to.
"You're not leaving Mr. No Shi."
With trembling hands, Tora raised his sword and pointed it at Ian. The weapon was a katana blade with a curved white pommel of a tiger head at the end. A trade mark design of his.
A long tentacle like attack came rushing towards him, wrapping itself around the katana and pulling it from the Tiger of Death's grip. The sword clanged against the wall as it was tossed across the room. Tora dropped to his knees and clasped his hands together.
"P-p-please Ian. Let me live," the murderer begged. "I'll do anything. I'll join your side. Together we can defeat Pezzini, collect Iron's empire….."
"Pathetic! Willing to betray your employer at the blink of an eye. You never did have any integrity or honor."
That was the difference between Ian and Tora. Ian was a mercenary, someone who fulfilled his contract, stuck to the target, killed only those who had to be, acted within a realm of honor. Tora was a murderer who sadistically enjoyed killing innocents, women, and children. A man who was willing to betray another to save his skin or benefit his own cause.
A startled Tora leapt up and pressed his back against the wall. With quaking knees the Tiger of Death proceeded to wet his pants. A yellow fluid ran down his legs and seeped through the fabric of his clothing.
"Heh. You literally are a stain in this world Tora No Shi."
"Yes! I am a stain. I won't be any trouble to you," Tora said chuckling nervously, "You are my better Ian Nottingham. There is no doubt."
"Yes. There is indeed no doubt that I am better then you."
"Y-y—you'll let me live?" stuttered the man soaked in his own urine.
No. You are a cowardly pawn that must be removed from the chess board, no matter how worthless it ended up being. Good bye Tora. Enjoy your eternity in hell."
"AAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" The screams of the Tiger of Death echoed and resonated throughout the floor of the building. The death of a wanted murderer has been declared and fulfilled.