The Colour Purple Chapter 53: the Tragedy of Mr Kane, a king of fighters fanfic

The Colour Purple... The King of Fighters '95

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This (chapter) fanfiction was originally written circa: [XX.96] (Thank you)

"Which Character are you?"

Note to self: Legacy chapter numbering (32- - -), does not match. [Original chapter written 2013]

THIS CHAPTER was originally Chapter 34.

[…and he seized the dragon, that ancient serpent, who is the devil and Satan,

and bound him for a thousand years.] -Revelation 20:2.

The King of Fighters 1995.

…

"I once thought that my life was perfect, and I was truly content, and I was happy."

But, one day, a higher power took me from those naive wishes, and brought together men and women – stripped them from their lives of simple content. [For where three are gathered in my name, there am I among them.] -Matthew 18:20. In groups of three, men fought to take back all that was once theirs to have and to hold, near, and dear, to their hearts.

…

"I'll KILL YOU!" Iori roared, his voice changing once again.

"BILLY!" Eiji screamed out up to the point where his throat twisted to a coiled halt. "Get AWAY!" Until his mouth gushed in a bloody panic and no more sound came out.

Billy refused to pay the old man any heed and pulled Iori's battered body up close to his own body, wrapping his young master's arm over his shoulders. "STOP, old man. You're killing… him…" Billy's speech began to stammer when he felt the viscous goo rise up from his throat and fill his mouth with a rancid, a so much a rancid taste. "Urgghk." Billy coughed when the nausea overcame him and made him stumble.

"You son of a bitch."

"Ior…" Billy, wide eyed now and locked in a state of disbelief, looked down and to his side and found the inhuman beast's fingers wiggling hungrily into his armpit and clawing into his ribs to balance himself.

A set of ribs cracked like Styrofoam. Iori cocked back again, this time his clawed fingers tore into Billy's side. Billy was caught in utter stupor; the man he was trying to save was gutting him on the spot. Billy didn't let go; instead, he tried to swing Iori around, to valiantly regain some control. Iori simply used Billy as a ballast and hoisted himself up to a stand once more.

The MONSTER didn't care anymore. To it, Billy was merely a tool he used to steady himself, and when IT was done, Billy was nothing more but garbage to be discarded. Iori growled again, a low disgusting groan emanated from the bottom of his stomach and oozed out his dripping, filthy mouth.

With a quick movement, one that Billy couldn't've ever followed, Iori's palm wrapped itself around the back of Billy's head and pulled the Englishman's body downwards into his waiting knee. Billy's face flayed open, his eyes and mouth blared wide just before the pain was too much, and when he lost it all to the depths of darkness, Iori put both hands over Bill's shoulders as he fell forward and threw him over and behind his back into the hard tree trunk behind them. A crack resonated round the men – so painful to even hear.

Billy's lifeless body wrapped itself around that lonely tree then fell silent like a frail cat that no one loved anymore.

…

"Yyyy..Ya…YAROU…" You son of a bitch. Eiji snarled that tore with claws against the back of his throat, ripping it, and leaving it in a bloody mess. The old man, now, a man who once was a young man who didn't care about anyone – or anything. Except for himself.

Does your hatred know no bounds?!

A young man who fought, because he had no choice; Because he was born into such a world; Because he was weak; Because everyone ELSE was evil; Because we exist to kill each other; Because the world existed to KILL us. From the exact moment we were both, our parents who thought they loved each other so much - gave us birth, so we could slowly die. BUT.

But…

Even when no one else around Iori, Billy and Eiji knew – Eiji understood it – ever so!

THIS story – was really about US. It was about an Earth that revolved around us three.

Eiji bit down SO HARD that the outline of his angry, twisted lips could be seen through his cloth mask that he so valiantly kept on his face, to conceal his spirit, that mask that was now soiled with a patch of red blood that grew larger. The red liquid filtered through and saturated into it until the lifeblood began to flow in small drops along his chin and down the sides of his neck. His teeth that bit hard into his mask and could no longer hide his RAGE.

RAGE. Unbridled, indescribable RAGE.

Eiji understood it. The ROOT of EVIL. This was a flower that made the world spin, that blossomed and took away everything we loved, TOOK AWAY everyone we cared for and left us in a pit of remorse. If it could be given form. If it could be given shape, a body, and a meaning. This evil that was as noble as gravity that made the world rotate upon its axis and revolve around the sun was now HERE. HERE with you and me.

This benevolent, evil [thing] that had possessed Iori Yagami, only son of Hajime Yagami. The reason we all existed. If EVIL was given flesh and blood. Without a name.

"Are you the reason we EXIST?" Eiji asked to the one who was NAMELESS.

If foolish, cowardly people subject themselves to a G_o_d that they believe gave them life. If we revere you because we, we oh so weak, desire to hail a higher power. Then, even if you are one and even if you claim you are not the same, then this evil that takes our loved ones away – you.

You must be just as important – and are one and the same as God.

"Then I must CRUSH you." Eiji curled his fists in such a tension that that they shook tremendously beyond his control. Because both of YOU are one and the same, to me.

…

[We know we are from God, and the whole world lies in the power of the evil one.] –John5:19.

Two and a half years later…

"Eiji… Old man." Billy held onto his side and as noble as he could, propped his body up with his trembling arm that barely supported is torn body. "I… I can't... Promise me…"

"Shut up, Billy." Eiji laughed. "You're okay."

"Eiji… Old man…" Billy…

In 1995.

"Sorry, it's NOT your time yet, boy." Eiji reassured the young boy that had stayed by his side, blindly, loyally for 2, 3 years now…

I saved the world, once, Billy Kane.

Really?

If you live past this – there's only one thing you can do.

Old man…

I saved the world once, and no one ever knew it. I never thought I had to live through it a second time. "There's only one thing you can do." You just go home, Mr. Kane. The old man smiled.

"Bollocks. Well then," Billy couldn't do anything else but smile. "Let's do this again…"

One more time - From the top… "Let's save the world, Mr. Kisaragi." Once again.

…and we'll DO IT, even if no one ever notices.

…

"If you dare open your MOUTH again." She warned. "I will cut both your arms, chop off your penis, and FEED it to you."

Hopper looked across at Yamashita's solid, determined gaze, mouth agape. At her challenge, Hopper had no comeback to fling back at her. She simply stood there in front of him, dead serious. At the slightest provocation perhaps, she was ready to completely destroy the world underfoot.

…

The engine of that black van roared to a start. Ripper pushed hopper back into its body and he himself, climbed back in. "Get your man home, ninja." Ripper said over his shoulder. "Forget about it, we'll contact you later."

The motor erupted to a roar and the van's chassis finally began to move.

Hopper pushed his head through that sliding gate one last time, he was going to get the last word in... "You CUNT… I swear if anything happens to Billy…"

...

Chapter 53: the Tragedy of Mr. Kane

Webster's definition of shlep

Shlep (noun)

To shlep. The act of shlepping. To shlep with someone. To shlep with someone else. The desire to shlep. Shlepping in non shlepping zones. Shlep.

e.g. I'm gonna doooo my homwerrrkkkkkshlep

...

[I wonder what is the meaning of this joke I call a life? What it has in store for me. Personally I think some bitch is writing my life. Some bitch who probably writes a television soap opera or something. She writes everything about me, all my hurt, my frustrations, my ecstasies, and my secrets. My life is controlled - it's fake. I have no dreams, no feeling, everything is prefabricated. No matter how hard I try to 'succeed' it all ends in disaster as long as that bitch has that keyboard.

Heh. Well... What if some OTHER bitch is writing the life of the FIRST bitch? And someone else before her, and someone else... What if everyone out there is writing everyone else's life? I laugh at them they way they try so hard to control each other's life. They think that they can make a change. But I say to myself, I say I'm a rebel. Then it comes back to me. I am really controlled by that Bitch and the bitch before her and before her. This is my society. It just doesn't matter – in this dark place. I'll live it the way I please so I can justify everything in the end. If she's gonna make a story, I'm gonna fight to have it my way.

Or something like that...]

Billy Kane looked at what he had just scribbled and laughed. He broke the pen in his hand in two and tore the paper up.

"What a stupid idea." Billy said out loud, shrugging his shoulders up weakly, smiling.

Then the sky fell on him.

...

It was terribly dark, but Billy tried to squint through it anyways. He almost believed that if he forced himself hard enough he could see into and through that dark space. He felt behind him and his wandering fingers touched a familiar reassuring feeling. His big red stick was there. So there was no problem. He could hear something. It sounded like... like laughter and erratic beats. Faster and faster. Billy looked round frantically to determine that sound's source. It sounded like a typewriter. Billy was as confused as ever.

"Billy! What're you doing, hanging with me all the time." Came a woman's voice.

Billy was about to say something when someone else spoke for him. Billy looked at someone else, another version of himself, walking towards the girl.

"Because I don't want you to hang around with scum like you always do." The speaking, moving splitting image of Billy said.

Billy, the real Billy tried to walk towards the girl and himself, but it felt like he was on a treadmill and despite his greatest efforts, he just couldn't get close.

"What are you, my MOTHER?!" She said.

"No. I'm your brother. I think I have enough right to say what kind of guys are wrong for you." Billy said.

"Get away from me. I think I'm old enough and I don't need your help for anything. I want to run my own life."

"Everyone does. Don't you be lecturing me." Billy said, his tone of voice steadily rising.

Hidden in the shadows, Billy knew what was going to come next so he tried to shout in protest. He slammed his red stick to the ground but it bounced off the emptiness and vibrated in his hand. He was running in place and couldn't do anything...

"You really think you can treat me like a PET - do you?" She said.

"Shut up!" Billy shouted hurtling the back of his hand across her face. "Don't talk to me like that! Don't challenge me. If you won't respect me because you want to, then respect me because I was fucking born before you."

The girl put her hand over her mouth and pulled herself back. She sucked it in.

God.. GOD DAMN IT! Billy cursed in the emptiness.

...

The sound of the typewriter keys came faster and faster, slowly pushing Billy towards that fine edge of insanity. However, it gave him a little focus, it didn't allow him to look away. It kept him focused on the sickening play unfolding in front of him.

He saw himself again. In that so dark an alley.

"What the hell you think you're doin' Kid?" A leather jacketed punk sneered at Billy. The punk had his arm over the blue haired girl's shoulder.

"Get out of town. I don't want to see you EVER again." Billy said in a rough tone.

"Oh, is this your mother, babe?" The punk said to the girl.

"Billy, don't do this." She said.

"Get lost now." Billy threatened, taking two forceful steps towards his enemy.

"Heh, weeeellll..." The punk cooed, and 6 other ruffians appeared from the street and walked into the alley.

"What'cha ganna do." The punk grinned.

"Wait... Stop. Mickey, don't." The girl tried to reason with the man, as best as she could. "Leave him be, he won't start any trouble."

"Too late sweetie."

"Are you DEAF!" Billy roared. He fearlessly sent the back of his left hand across one of the goons' faces and with the obstruction out of his path, Billy threw both hands in front of the man named Mickey, making him stumble a step or two behind.

"What're you, a fucking RETARD!?" The punk cussed back, contorting his face in a twisted sneer.

A RETARD!? You fucking stupid idiot! What good are you!?

…

Even when we smile brightly, and some of us were just pegged as fools and jokers, never to be taken seriously... We take it all for granted and it seemed like we haven't a care in the world – on occasion, we visit this place, a place that we know very well. It is deep and it is dark.

Taken at face value, you have to fear those who smile so bravely, so fearlessly, because you can be assured. That they do so, because they've already at least once, seen hell.

The sound that came out of his face was totally undecipherable now. His lips had totally swollen up and the black and blue marks on his disfigured visage became hard to look at. Even if the murmured sound that escaped his tight lips was a plea for mercy, it didn't matter when Billy drove his foot mercilessly down into his head and made it collapse into an even more horrendous sight.

DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND? EVERYTIME THEY BEAT THAT LITTLE BLONDE HAIRED BOY. Every time they did it, I remembered the sensation as it crippled me in fear.

"You ASSHOLE!" a loud yell came from behind Billy and he felt a wooden baseball bat tear into the back of his right shoulder. Billy winched a little bit, but without as much as a cry of pain he simply turned round with a furrowed brow that could no longer hold back the look of anger, a look that overcame any feeling of pain. A FAMILIAR FEELING OF PAIN.

AND THEY DID TO BILLY, HORRIBLE, PERVERTED, UNSPEAKABLE THINGS. Things that most people would never dream of, and would keep most awake at night. They laughed. Yes, they laughed in ecstasy when the boy opened his mouth obediently and that disgusting white ooze dripped out of it. Even as you worry about your petty problems in the luxury of your first class world, other small boys feel a different pain EVERY WAKING DAY.

AND GOD [LET] IT HAPPEN.

"Wait.. no.. hey.. wai…" the man pleaded now when he finally realized the folly of his ways. Even when he dropped his bat in surrender Billy simply walked up to him, and watched him. He remembered those knees that trembled, shaking uncontrollably and wouldn't move despite his fearful commands. With both arms Billy swung his stick and the next sound was a body dropping limp on the ground with loud thump.

THIS CAN BE NO LONGER CONSIDERED AS, FIGHTING.

…

How are you, Jack White(ch5?)

"Daddy... Have you come to take me home?" Billy wheezed before he fainted.

Even when the young blonde haired British boy wanted to cuddle himself and sink his head into the filthy, hard pillow that was knotted in clumps, his eyes were now open and he had awoken. It was a dark gray world, one which was unsure if it was to remain in fear of darkness or welcome a fresh new light – just like him. He remembered clearly a second ago – what had happened. A memory lingered because it seemed like it happened just a second ago. IT WAS HORRIBLE and IT WAS UNBEARABLE. But. For some reason, he was granted a night of sleep. Free from the insomnia of tragedy; FREE from the PAIN of chained history.

The pimp left him and the man asked him to sit on the bed next to him. He said his name was Geese, Geese Howard. Jack stood up and started to undress, and stared blankly at Geese, like a soulless machine.

"Are you ready to go?" The old man's voice came from behind the small child who didn't even turn round to [see]. Even with the searing pain on his back he just hugged the hard, uncomfortable pillow, pushed it next to his cheek and peeked outside the window - watched as the rays of sunlight began another day. This was what his tiny body wanted to see, in this disgusting, disfigured, REPULSIVE country that imprisoned him by perverted people.

"Just a little bit more, Mr. Geese." Billy smiled so softly with the slight streams of water running down his face – that, a word he didn't understand yet. "I slept so well… for once."

I slept well – last night.

…and oh – I never thought something as simple as waking up just before sunrise, after sleeping past the darkness.

…

THOSE OLD, THOSE PERVERTED OLD MEN. THEY CLIMBED OVER THE BOY. With their bloated, hairy, disgusting bodies, and they pinned me down. At first, I remember screaming… helplessly.

Whack! That was approximately the sound Billy's stick made when it embedded itself into the face down, silent, unmoving body in front of him.

AT FIRST I SCREAMED.

Clack… clack… that was the sound of Billy's stick as it rattled onto the ground and Billy put both fists on top of his head and bit his lip in frustration. He slammed both fists into a large metal dumpster by the side of the alley.

THEN I COULD HEAR NOTHING. But, I still recall the feeling of that boy's body being beaten – so much it was difficult to even fall asleep at night in that foreign country.

Then once, then TWICE, then THRICE. Billy braced his upper body with both arms and rammed his forehead into the metal until, like the world that had grown silent, soaking the crimson over the bandana that covered his head, his mind had become silent too.

…and the only way I could be free, was to let it ALL go. It didn't matter anymore if I was being beaten, or if I was the one beating someone else. I just had to hear that sound to…

Billy's maw ripped open wild like the wild beast he was. The stupid, stupid beast…

I remember. Remember every single time, and I can't stop remembering it. Every waking day I have to let it ALL GO. Don't call me stupid.

…

Billy, in the darkness, covered his ears, didn't want to hear what was coming next, but she could hear clearly. He could hear even when he plugged his ears, he could see even when he covered his eyes.

"I hate you, BILLY!" Lili shouted and ran.

Billy slumped in the darkness, looked down at his feet, but he heard a crash, a window breaking - and when he looked up he saw Lili's body, lying in a pool of blood, with shards of glass sticking into her. Even when broken, with jagged edges embedded into her body, she still seemed beautiful, he recalled. Then he saw a man, a blonde man brooding over her. It was a familiar face.

"GEESE!" Billy shouted, but the image plastered on the screen didn't listen to him

But why would Geese do it, he asked himself. I've done everything for Geese, and why did he kill her.

"WHY GEESE?!" He shouted.

…

I slept well – last night.

…and oh – I never thought something as simple as opening my eyes, and not being able to shut them again because my small, weak body was fully rested - waking up just before sunrise, after sleeping past the darkness.

No matter what the pain, this sleep would somehow wash it all away, my friends.

…would be so… just… just so, beautiful.

Despite my painful body that had never even once slept so soundly as it just had.

Those things that ran down his eyes were called "tears". While children who worried about menial problems, in their first world paradises, listening to bedtime stories, hugging their plush stuffed animals, they would never hope to understand… what this blonde haired boy experienced as the sunrise washed his body clean.

"Just a little bit more, Mr. Geese." Billy smiled so softly with the slight streams of water running down his face – that, a word he didn't understand yet. "I slept so well… for once."

…

Billy felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked to the side and followed the hand up to see the man himself. Geese Howard, his father.

"You're mistaken, Billy." Geese said reassuringly. "I didn't kill Lili. I'm not the reason she had to die. Look very closely." Geese said pointing to Lili's body.

Billy looked, and he saw a blonde man. A familiar man. With the tell tale red cap and blue jeans.

"Don't you feel so weak that you couldn't even protect a woman?" Geese said.

"I just wanted her to look at me – and when she did, I just wanted her to see a big brother. Nothing else. I didn't want to force her to love me or respect me. I just..." the tears pooled and streamed down Billy's sickening face, like a river unleashed.

…

"Just a little bit more, Mr. Geese." Billy smiled so softly with the slight streams of water running down his face – that, a word he didn't understand yet. "I slept so well… for once."

…

One thing is true. Many things are [true].

When a good man, Jeff Bogard, took a boy, who was a nobody – and – made him somebody. A hero was to arise.

Just as the God and The Devil exist – Bad men, in so turn, need bad saviours. There is one ultimate truth – that is, that evil men NEVER once regarded themselves as evil.

…

"That's enough!"

That's enough, [another] familiar voice close to Billy's heart, with a firm determination, pulled him back as he spiraled into a world that wanted to pull him in. A dark place that sucked him down and deep to the clutches where there was no awakening. As my friends did for me, do so – I pull you BACK. Here.

He will TEST you. The God and the Devil are the same.

"It's time to wake up, boy." A firm, old voice pulled Billy back. Billy felt his hand on his shoulder. Reassuringly those fingers grabbed a firm hold of his body, and kept him from dropping into that pit filled with failure, of obscure bible verses, and of an eternal sleep.

"Mr. Kane." The boy imagined the voice call out to him. Even when no one else cared, he would bring him back. If only to share in his suffering. It wasn't his time yet. Oh, how wonderful…

That I could see a bright and wonderful world with you – as long as I saw another day.

Another day. "The PROBLEM," he said. "With that bitch. Is that, her characters are far too two dimensional." [he] said.

It's not your time yet. You don't die until I TELL you to. Wake up, you asshole.

She said.

...

For man cannot live on bread alone. As such, men cannot be defined by a single horrible event, that determines their actions for the rest of their waking days.

…

Billy opened his eyes with sweat beading on his forehead. Despite all that, amidst that suffering and pain that he had experienced, 15, 20 some aught years seen in an instant – even if it hurt… Billy just smiled. He didn't even realize it at first but it came to him in due time.

For a man so pitiful as him. "That's right. I'm not two dimensional." He said out loud. Mr. Billy Kane ran the back of his left hand over his sweaty brow.

Disguised as tears.

The lifeless hospital machines by his side let out a rhythmic beep. This story is a comedy – and, a tragedy. We welcome you back, Mr. Kane. Welcome back. This story is a comedy – and, a tragedy.

…

"Just a little bit more, Mr. Geese." Billy smiled so softly with the slight streams of water running down his face – that, a word he didn't understand yet. "I slept so well… for once."

Just a little bit more. Won't you show me the sunrise – that, you showed all your children?

…for a little bit longer…

GOOD MORNING.

A TRAGEDY OF MR. BILLY KANE.