The Colour Purple Chapter 74: The Invisible Man, 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 2016]

Certainly, they existed. Driven and yet crippled by those so often used, and so very familiar four letter words. Here.

…

In slow motion the camera swerved round the corner and locked its gaze unto Clark's face, each wrinkle and every tense grit on his face was plain to see in great speandour and resolution. What was more perplexing than his strange habit of wearing dark shades in pitch black rooms, was that Clark did not even pay any attention to Yuri who walked by him calmly as he sat on that barstool. Instead, he looked over, past, and through her when the fierce wind opened that door. Firmly and with great purpose he looked straight ahead at the open door of La Bijoux.

Clark gnashed his teeth, but in due time that feeling of agony mellowed into a soft reassuring sigh… Clark took in a breath.

"What." Clark whispered. For sixteen years, I've waited, all this time, to SEE you again. "What took you so long?" What took you so long?

My friend.

…

In 1984, in the wrenched unincorporated community of SouthTown.

Yuri stopped. She did not notice it at first but suddenly, dark, black barbed wire chains erupted from the ground and wrapped themselves around her small legs and up onto her torso – her eyes glazed open wide, she blinked and now her pupils were pinpoints, swimming lost in a pool of white in her eyes. Petrified in a frigid cold, her arms slowly, lethargically drifted down.

I'm back here again. Aren't I? She sobbed.

Before she knew it she found herself in a horrid, yet familiar place. A dark room sitting in a chair, her legs had grown cold and numb from hours upon days of stillness. That door in front of her – she did not know if it was even locked, yet her own fear imprisoned her [there].

There was no greater fear as she sat in that dark room, a fate worse than death, Yuri recalled that chasm that made her stop breathing. In a prison taken apart from and lost in time.

"No." This time it would be different. "It will be different NOW," she screamed. Yuri, only 7 years old grabbed both of her knees in her hands and, overcoming the cold numbing pain in her legs forced herself to move. Kidnapped by Mr. Big against her will near a decade go, it had been probably two days since she willed herself to move, and this one moment she would turn back time and change the course of history. Yuri was able to lift her thighs a few inches before her legs that had grown weak from atrophy failed her and pulled her back into her seat. No. One more time Yuri beat on her legs to force the blood to circulate in them once again.

The FEAR. It was what tied her down onto that chair and trapped her in this dark room. She was unsure if the door in front of her was even locked, or, if, what trapped her was simply the weakness that would, for 10 years thereafter plague her, and mock her – preventing her from walking forward. Her fear imprisoned her. I was so scared that I refused to move from this chair, and now my legs had become weak from two days of unmoving petrification.

With a leap, Yuri pushed her body from its prison and took itself to a stand, however, the instant she did, she fell forwards and crumpled onto the ground smashing her nose in as the warm wooden chair that had sheltered her in pitiful fashion toppled over wit her. Defiant, with tears in her eyes, her chest heaved in a frantic panic and Yuri was now beyond shame nor fear and she did not stop when she dragged her torso on the ground until her open palms were on that wooden door that mocked her and she clawed herself up, begging for her legs to come alive again. She was tired of being afraid. We were so sick and we were so tired of being afraid of confrontation. We were. Here.

In this place. That door mocked you and I. I fucking hated it.

We were so afraid to move forward – we were so scared to fight for ourselves, we were content with ourselves cowering in the middle of those four hard walls in that lonely dark room, we did not know if that door was locked or not – or if we were to show a sliver of courage, maybe…. Maybe. Maybe – it – would open. Instead, [we] imprisoned ourselves.

Here. Calling out for VENGEANCE.

Pulling herself up, Yuri's legs once again responded to her wishes as the warmth radiated in her thighs and calves, and though they wobbled and trembled, Yuri stood upright and gazed sternly at that tarnished brass doorknob, that had a vicious aura like a snake that could lunge and bite back at the slightest provocation.

Yuri curled her lower lip in and bit down, trembling.

She reached out with her right hand and…

…and, but, at the last second her trembling hand stopped 2 inches from its mark.

The salty flavour seeped into the corners of her mouth. "I will free, us." The first hammer of that revolver cocked as the edge of Yuri's lip stretched back as far as it would go. Yuri sobbed violently, her voice breaking. "I will set us free – from – from this place… a place… a prison…" This room that imprisoned you and I for near a horrid a decade. Even if we did not realize it, we came back here when we became afraid, and the past chained us – crucified us, and prevented us from walking forward, into that sweet radiating light. "It's MY turn…" Isn't it?

To free you and I from this prison of our own choosing – isn't it? She cried.

Unbeknownst to the young girl, behind her within the dirty, dark crevices in that box, another unseen boy watched her carefully with utmost curiosity. A smile and a grin. Those sharp fangs sneered wide, initially in a sad curl, then finally, eventually, into a gleaming smile.

Again, that mysterious boy appeared in the backdrop without our knowing.

As we, with our utmost wish – change the course of time, and reinvent the future.

When Yuri, 7 years old, broke through that hard cold shell whose four walls trapped her, when her warm fingers touched that doorknob – a fiery bright light swirled from its center and penetrated through her fingers, her hand, up her arm and into her chest, lifting up her permed hair into the ceiling. And that miasmic rainbow exploded into a bright kaleidoscope – instantly turning the dark black night from 1984 into a warm, reassuring glow of an early evening when the sun was just about to set.

Time became real again to the present.

THE ROOM. It was once a dark place with four walls that imprisoned me in a lonely place. However, but, when Yuri touched that doorknob her childhood eyes widened as the tasks of time had broken her and left her remains for death; Her rich brown, once permed bangs straightened over her forehead and in slow motion her hair braided itself into a long ponytail that draped over her back. The camera of the world zoomed out from her 7 year old eyes, round and round in that filthy prison down at her feet, then up her knees, behind her shoulders before finally laying rest into her hand on that cold brass doorknob once again.

The four walls that at one time, served to suffocate her, now collapsed with a loud boom and unfolded from the rage of her defiance… "I will NOT BE AFRAID anymore." Yuri, now 16 years of age said with a peculiar, angry smile. Those paper walls collapsed, and instantaneously tilted up into a plain concrete building in front of her. Now, Yuri found herself with her hand on a doorknob outside a familiar apartment building.

The child was once inside a box, and in an instant, that house of cards toppled and rebuilt itself wherein 9 years passed in 9 instantaneous seconds. Let us…

Let us take back, what was once OURS! …and ours alone, my… my friend.

…

1993.

"A. I see." Yuri sighed with a tearful smile. "Here I am." And I now know what I have to do. Yuri let go of that doorknob and instead put both palms on Robert's front door. She put her warm cheeks on that cold wooden door and let out a calm breath. "It's my turn isn't it?" To pay you back for everything you've done for me, my friend. Yuri gnashed her teeth. If I let this be.

If I let this be, King would go away, and maybe you would forget, and mayhaps you would return my affection in due time, and you could be mine. Oh how I love you so much. I… so salty but those tears became a painful and a bitter taste. She sobbed uncontrollably.

You that pass and raise your arm to me,

Before you hurt me, look at me well…

I am the bread of goodness and the flower of beauty.

"It's my turn," Yuri said. "It's my turn to set us free… from this prison." To be yours forever. The light yet searing tears slashed down like razor sharp blades as they trailed down her face with bloody indifference. I will show you.

Robert. "I will SHOW you, just how much. JUST HOW MUCH. I…"

I can't tell anymore if this door in front of me is trapping you in a room or it's the same as before and I am the one instead who is still trapped in 'that' room? But this time I will change. This time it will be me who will protect you.

If I can prove Clark wrong, then that means I will be right. If the power of Kyokugen's promise is true, and if I win against him then I will tell you my true feelings, because if I can defeat the man who beat King, that means I am better than the King that saved us, right?

Kachi nara, kokuharu suru.

…and Yuri, turned round, walked down the steps and escaped from this god forsaken hell. "This time, I will set you free." The tears, beyond shame flooded down Yuri's face.

This time.

FROM YOUR ROOM – that IMPRISONS you.

…

Chapter 74: The Invisible Man

The END of La Bizarre Love Pentagon – part 10 –

[THAT IMPRISONS YOU.]

You've mocked my happiness. You've crippled my friend. You've destroyed my savior.

That [thing] was content living in fear in the other side. We were all so happy the way we were. But now, THAT thing, you have now unleashed [it] – without remorse. But now.

But now, you've set it FREE.

I [HATE] YOU.

…

Ding. Ding. Ding. Clark never understood it, how someone could live with the sound of an antiquated cuckoo clock that reminded you with annoying chimes, each and every hour of day. It was cold, dank and frigid. And now… it was 3 am, in THAT given morning.

In an unknown month, in an unknown day, lost in a mysterious season…

…in 1993.

…

The camera that documented the times that elapsed and we forgot zoomed out from Clark's spectacled face. Clark's dark shades were so out of place, blocking his eyes eventhough he sat unmoving in a void of nothingness in La Bijoux. Clark's fingers were interwoven across each other like a hammock that supported his chin when his face gazed out at invisible walls that were hidden behind his black Ray-Ban Wayfarer shades.

When that disgusting clock silenced, the light sound of the front door unlocking cracked the frozen moment that engulfed the entire room. The heavy wooden door swung open slowly, then slowly, emerging from that crevice, a hard footstep, then two then three steps, her face echoed in a picture perfect silence when it crossed from the cover of that wooden door into the Kingdom.

This is a chapter, from a story, that was meant only for two – a man and, a woman.

"I'm ti..." Whispering, Yuri swerved her face to the right and turned itself to Clark who, like a menacing Chinese lion dog, stood guard at his concrete perch at the long wooden bar, but refused to move. Clark continued to stare at the wall that was darker than the blackest black, his eyes hidden behind those preposterous shades in the darkness.

In a slow but purposeful manner, Yuri pushed back the front door and locked the deadbolt shut with a sharp click. She continued to walk quietly, mumbling sweet nothings to herself. "I am so very…"

Even when Yuri, she who had memorized the layout of this place the last decade, swerved past the heavy tables with chairs slung over them, kept to herself without bumping into the furniture, even then, Clark did not move as he laid and still looked outwards almost as if steel rebar locked his head in place.

The image of that closed door supported her back when Yuri stared at Clark who refused to even acknowledge her. "I'm so tired of this all, Clark." She said.

Yuri didn't bother to wait and casually walked through the pitch black dark, dodging the tables, chairs, and furniture with ease as one step leapt over the other. In its finality, Yuri found herself at the base of the staircase behind Clark. Despite all this, Clark would not move, he refused to break his gaze that were crucified into the wall in front of him.

However, just as Yuri was about to lift her right foot up onto the wooden steps front of her, she heard the strange clunk of the steel latch of that door free itself. Yuri looked back at Clark, and now swerved her face to the front door that had come undone by the whistling wind.

Unbeknownst of them, the door swung open – pushed open by the strong, cool dawn wind, and after a hard crash, silently…

Awoken from his slumber Clark, his head like a tank turret, lifted up from its peace and with every ratcheting sound – his head turned counter clockwise as each tooth bit HARD to move that machine gear by gear until the slow movement faced the door that had opened by itself with only the breeze of the open outside air keeping us all awake.

WRYYYYYY…

A sharp breeze engulfed the kingdom around them. Yuri looked upon the back of Clark's head that paid Yuri no heed and instead scrutinized that cold, wooden front door when it rocked back and forwards in place.

Then. Clark's head shifted left to right, locking gazes with a vast space of nothing as [it] walked in front of him.

It was so peculiar, how this blonde haired man sat in the dark behind black plastic that covered his eyes, yet as Yuri stood there, so out of place at 3 am in that unknown morning, Clark was more concerned about something else.

The door remained open, letting the cool fresh breeze emanate throughout their wide, wild heaven – Clark's head swiveled mechanically on his neck then stopped. He froze and looked back again at that wall. He held his face there for a few seconds before letting out a chuckle.

Clark, in his robotitc fashion at 3 am, finally laid both palms over his knees and gingerly swiveled on the barstool he stood on this lonely night. Finally, click by click pulled the reflection of Yuri's face into the pools of his dark shades. Those shades were trapped in that mid 1980s, Wayfarer – sunglasses that romanced a decade of generations.

Clark looked at Yuri, and she looked back. Clark swiveled on his chair and looked back at the door breathing in and out with great purpose. Clark exhaled. He grinned and the dry coarse voice left his lips whispered when he stared at that now open door.

Clark gnashed his teeth, but in due time that feeling of agony mellowed into a soft reassuring sigh… Clark took in a breath.

Did you have to wait until we were just about to crumble and fall apart before you would come to save us?

What.

"What." Clark whispered. For sixteen, long, painful, lonely years, I've waited, all this time, to SEE you again. "What took you so long?" What took you so long?

My friend.

"What took you so long? My friend." Clark asked.