The Colour Purple Chapter 109: Absolute Violation, a king of fighters fanfic

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

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]

"Did you know, while the concept of 'voting' started in the very late 1700s - women were not allowed the right to vote in the United States of America until August 18, 1920?"

THAT DAY, was a Wednesday.

"I did not know that, Master Rugal," Mature stood calmly behind her lord in that dark palace that floated up in the sky.

"I find it rather amusing," Rugal mused, taking a sip of his tea that had, by now, become lukewarm.

"Shall I get you a new cup, sir?" Mature was quick to notice her master's slight apprehension eventhough most people could hardly see a foot away from their noses in that pitch black chamber that was absolutely devoid of light.

"Yes, please." Rugal offered his cup to Mature, his blonde haired butler who took the fine porcelain from his hand and silently made her way to the very middle of the peculiarly large room and laid it on the wheeled cart that had a half dozen empty cups, 2 barely touched cups of cold tea and began to pour a fourth cup. "GOD hates you. You know…" He said calmly, without even a slight tinge of malice, so matter of factly that the tone of his voice teeter tottered, it was difficult to discern if it was made in [contempt] or maybe perhaps in [empathy].

For perhaps when silence would be a satisfactory answer, maybe a single word would span both simultaneously as compromise. "Yes." Mature said plainly pouring a new cup of tea.

"According to God's rules." Rugal continued, "It is unlikely that even the most powerful of women in the world could physically defeat 60 percent of normal men." DO you understand what that means?

"It's meaningless, now, sir." Mature's stoic face broke slightly into a warm smile before she caught herself and her face calmed back into a neutral shape.

"Eventhough GOD decided that women would be WEAKER than men. A powerful BLOOD has been imbued upon you. By ME."

Yes.

If I can make a woman more POWERFUL than even the most hearty men, even when God decreed [them] petty and weak by biological design… If I can ensure, not just simply an equality of opportunity, but an equality of outcome. What does that make me?

Then you are greater than God.

To demolish his rules. IF we can make ALL people TRULY equal… and if we can separate humans from HIS wishes, DOLLS made in God's image apart from his control – then – we can be GREATER than HIM. THAT, will be my revenge to GOD, and what he had done to me. "One day we will see it to the end."

"Yes, my lord." Mature bowed slightly handing the fresh new teacup and saucer to Rugal with both hands. "…and thank you."

"Thank you, Mature." Rugal said as he reached out with both hands and took the cup and saucer of steaming tea from Mature's hands. As e did he looked up and looked to the far corner of the darkness. "Vice?"

Another woman, a silent brunette leaned on the opposite corner of the throne room with her arms crossed. Unlike Mature, Vice's composure was the complete antithesis of her sister's calm and elegant demeanour. While she leaned on the wall, her body was absolutely tense and contorted in the wrong places. Her shoulders were hunched high, one higher than the other and her arms crossed, fingers on her opposite biceps. A twisted mime, even the joints of her legs and ankles zig zagged in disjointed manner.

"Vice."

Amidst the silent room a faint sound of a flat, drawn out beep like tone followed by snowy static filled Rugal's ears. A response like a television screen in a dark room in the wee hours of the morning.

"I'm sorry, I did not hear that," Rugal began to say.

"Master," Mature interjected. "Will we see THEM again? That drunken old man, and that… asshole… ninja."

Vice, still silent cocked her head up and in response a dark claw, shadowy barbed wires rose up from the ground and wrapped themselves completely around the metal valet in the middle of the room. The static that filled everyone's ears was now replaced by the snarl of a wild beast.

"VICE!" Mature hurled a castigating glare at Vice from across the room, then immediately rotated her face to the metal valet in the middle of the dark space. A booming roar cut the static, filling the room with animal like sounds punctuated by the slight creaking of steel.

Rugal chuckled. "Stop." He calmly instructed. When he did, the chattering of porcelain stopped when the dark talons faded into mist. Rugal smiled, satisfying himself once again by taking a sip. "Don't worry. I can guarantee you two – that you will see THEM again."

You will all have your chance to make things right again.

The most important reason for someone's existence in the world.

Raison Detre. Every story requires a [hero], and a [villain]. Though sometimes, it becomes difficult to clearly discern one from the other.

"Our great accomplishments will defy God's rules; We shall release ourselves from his control; and we, we will make YESTERDAY and TODAY one – and – the same."

Yes. We shall.

The crumpled metal valet barely stood upright and barely held on to the dozen porcelain cups upright despite being crushed firmly by a large invisible hand.

In 1993, two years before 1995, up in the sky, a dark shape floated and made its way round and round, the globular shape looked like a black hot air balloon that wandered aimlessly in the heavens. "It's almost… as if…"

It crossed over, cleaving the clouds abiding by nothing else but its own rules…

…

GOD created mankind. CIVILIZATION put them on the same level footing. And now, I have made them truly EQUAL. My wish – is to truly RELEASE mankind, from its chains.

'Because a vision softly creeping; Left its seeds while I was sleeping…'

'And the vision that was planted in my brain; Still remains.'

…

Don't look at me like that.

…

{Don't you DARE look at me like THAT!} Hiroshi's gasped for air when his mind had begun to drown from a whirlpool that sucked him deep down, slowly, surely, bit by bit, the wires that connected his mental facilities begun to atrophy, snap in half, and now he had become unable to think rationally.

"OI! HIROSHI!" Futaba looked at his friend now in fright while still holding King down. "OIII!"

With his right hand, Hiroshi drew a switchblade, flicking the silver blade open at the press of a button. The look on his eyes was clear and plain, he had now lost the ability to hear, could only parse single celled functions and was only focused on the boy trapped between his thighs. While locking his gaze directly at King's right arm, Hiroshi flipped the knife though his fingers and now held the weapon in icepick grip.

He wrapped his left hand on King's right elbow, poised to strike at an obvious target.

Despite his growling, snarling bravado, King looked back up at Hiroshi – and on his face was that same plain look. GO AHEAD. KILL ME. I simply DON'T CARE ANYMORE.

…

South Africa, 1980.

The doctor sat in front of Clark, with his hands on his knees, placed two dark x-ray film plates face down and hunched down to meet the boy eye to eye. "Clark," the older man said, slowly measuring his words. "This is very important. Listen carefully to what I am about to say to you, boy…"

…

CONFLICT.

"…and the silence, like a CANCER, grows…" Clark, clenching both fists, hissed with a soft voice that could hardly be heard by anyone else except only by him when the seething rancor blared so loudly in his brain.

King stared back at his prey. In that room.

'And the vision that was planted in my brain; Still remains.'

Slowly and surely – bit by bit, those notions of pride, fear, and shame – those THINGS – the superfluous rules of civilization - that enslaved our minds became petty; trivial. Now, the boy knew what he had to do. When the option of retreat was no longer feasible. When coming face to face with a wild beast – and the result of failure would simply be, death. Now, EVERYTHING slowly became very simple and very clear.

Christmas morning, 1977. Charlie Chaplin, Knighted Sir Charles in 1975, dies at age 88 in Switzerland.

Her body, with one twist of her waist suddenly disappeared with wisps of light laid in its stead and reappeared a foot forward from where she once stood.

Clark stood with both fists clenched on his sides. Across at the other side of the room the Knight, caught in a freeze frame unfolded his arms in fright. His chin tilted up, with his vision following closely behind when it broke itself from the ground. Only the two men remained. In the silence, Clark looked outwards at nothing.

…

'And touched the sound, of silence.'

The END of La Bizarre Love Pentagon – part 23.

"You shit!" Hiroshi screamed! "STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT!" The boy clawed his left hand over King's forehead and repeatedly slammed the back of his head into the ground. AGAIN and AGAIN.

WHAM! The first and second times were indeed painful, but by the third time the back of his head embedded itself into the ground, a swirling nausea had already overcome King.

"STOP! STOP!" Eagle wobbled clumsily to the pedestrians who watched him perplexed, but through the old constable's mind he was running for dear life – as FAST and as HARD as he ever had, Eagle had lost all control and as his police hat hit the ground all the camera could see was the frantic pace of his feet rushing over the concrete. There was no more time.

King's head hit the ground one last time. "Ahh..." With a hundred pounds over his stomach, and a hundred pounds of weight over each of his wrists, eventhough he tried, his hands were unable to break free from their prison. "Ahh… Finally…" But the look on King's face did not change. Eventhough you don't realize it.

Eventhough you don't realize it, and eventhough you may try your best to act more courageous than you really are, your body instinctively tries to protect itself automatically. During moments of extreme stress, anxiety clouds your brain and the synapses between your mind and your body disconnect without you noticing. As we talked so many times before – your body shuts off non-essential functions – a fight or flight mentality – your consciousness diverts blood only to the parts of our body it deems essential for survival. No matter how honed you may think you are and how much you think yourself in control – the sequence of priority instantly changes, and you lose control to a higher power.

I am going to die.

Your body will do ANYTHING and EVERYTHING just to SURVIVE.

This is the reason, under 'normal' circumstances, it is rather difficult to commit suicide.

I do not want to die. His body decided.

[DARKNESS.]

As instantaneous as a light switch flicking OFF, King found herself in this place again. In a desperate plea to escape from the real world, King was once again in a dark void of a vast reaching, eternal space with his back on the ground. However this time she was still not granted liberty and solace for black steely talons shackled both wrists to the ground and when she looked upwards, her face now changed from THAT was once defiance now into fright…

King had transported her body into the DARK instinctively.

…a black ghoul who's face was a clump of curled wire in the shape of a head looked back at her, the coils separating now revealing a wide mouth half way up its face where a human nose would be – a snapping mouth that resembled the jagged teeth of a steel bear trap. "Ahhhhghhll.. I ahhhlll.. will… CUT hhyuuuu…" The monster snarled.

Even HERE, even in THIS cold lonely place where we retreated to hide, in this place King could not escape, because the terror crossed over with her.

…

If this was everyday for me? If this was the way I lived my life. It was with great love that my father. I love him. It was with great pride, he would say to me. It was with great love and with tender, yet firm, harshness, he told me…

Back then – at that time, I felt cold, and with a blind sense of purpose. Suddenly, only [i] existed in this world. Here, there was no one else in this throne in the sky. I ceased to give a shit anymore!

{JUST WHEN DID I FIRST BECOME AWARE OF THIS SENSATION?}

"Get up. You can't stop…" He warned. "In the real world, if you stop, then you will die. Don't you understand that?" My father kicked me in the gut. Even when I was on all fours on the ground, helpless and grasping for breath.

Do you know? He said to me. Do you know what will happen if you lay on the ground when three bloody thugs gang up on you? He berated me eventhough I was the victim, and [i] was on the ground. With just enough force to not permanently cave in my lungs he sent his heel down to my chest to remind this young 9 year old y8IRL: that if she were to fall unconscious, it would not be an escape from reality. I couldn't simply sleep and escape from this…

…

A woman is biologically unable to fight a man. Because God punished her. In FIGHTING – HE did not maker her equal.

"CUTCHYUUUU!" IT snarled with an indiscernible guttural rage. The ghoul's left arm wrapped itself around her right elbow, pinning it helplessly down.

Was this the first time?

"HHEEIIAGGGHHH!" King screamed out loud, her face that was once stoic and indifferent, was now replaced with a different picture. In this darkness a veil of terror had overcome her, tears ran down the sides of her cheeks and cold saliva – the goo oozing past the corners of her lips. "AGGHHHHH!" Once! AGHHHH! then twice HAGH.. HAGHHHAAA! a black blade stabbed into her now disfigured and perforated right arm - againagainagain, rendering it limp until she could no longer feel it anymore. The pain. That shield that once protected her had shattered and the PAIN raped her body in a manner she could not understand why she was feeling this way.

PLEASE. PLEASE STOP!

Was this the first time, I succumbed to the evil?

In that hospital floor – a small baby girl looked up to the ceiling – when the cold floor wrapped its talons around her body, the baby could not help but feel her face crumple in fear.

With a helpless feeling of being alone, without the warmth and love around him, the baby's face contorted and trembled, and finally erupted into a shriek bawl. Crying so loud, so loud, she cried, yet no one came to her aid. There was no one who would hold him or comfort him. He cried, until his lungs became hoarse and dry. Then at that one distinct moment…

The first time, I, opened my heart, and accepted my one and TRUE purpose?

The emotion, called [rage]. Was replaced by fear and absolute terror.

A swirling black ghoulish face floated on top of a black background – its glowing white pupils and smiling face sneered down at the helpless girl. "No HE won't KILL you. Instead."

…a familiar voice said. {I wanted to die. But why am I feeling this way?}

NO! NOT THAT!

IN ORDER TO BE [RIGHT]. All I have to DO is...

King's throat corkscrewed into a knot. By now the dread and mortification had overcome all notions and simple conceptions of fear. The BEAST grabbed a hold of her leg and stabbed that black knife into her right thigh repeatedly in rapid succession that even her mind could not keep up with, perforating her extremity until it was a bloody mess of lifeless flesh.

Againagainagainagain… The monster stabbed into her right thigh – by now her mind frantically issued commands again and again to her lower body, begging pleading, as best as she could – the same sensation of anxiety and denial you would feel when you repeatedly pressed a button – BEGGING TO GOD – pushing that button, but – no confirmation - nothing happened when you laid trapped in an elevator that was falling down in an abyss – a rapidly flashing sequence of events from where you could not escape… but she could no longer feel anything.

Do you know? He said to me. Do you know what will happen if you lay on the ground when three bloody thugs gang up on you? He berated me eventhough I was the victim, and [i] was on the ground.

"He won't kill you, you know that."

Disgusting mucus erupted from her eyes, her nose and the edges of her lips. OH MY GOD! PLEASE! PLEASE! I AM SO SORRY! PLEASE! PLEASE MY GOD!

…all you had to DO was to prove…

Do you know? He said to me. Two of them will pin down your arms, then the other will slowly GUT you with a rusty knife. …and even if you scream, and even if you beg… They will fucking laugh. They – will – just - not – STOP. They will have no mercy on you!

…and I won't be able to save you.

GOD?

THAT YOUR ENEMY… was [WRONG].

Why does God test us? Why must he try us? "Please save me,"

…

"God… please… save… me."

…

"UGH!" The knife now stabbed itself hilt deep into her flaccid left leg. You will no longer be able to fight. Is that so bad?

Her right arm, her right leg and now her left leg. The sensations that were once familiar were now far away when her brain could no longer accept the confirmation from her arms and legs that we had all once upon a time took for granted before. What once registered as pain was now replaced by a cold emptiness - a swirling, a grotesque emotion that, from the bottom of her stomach rose up her chest and vomited out her mouth. "AaaaaaGH!"

King's head tilted back, and her eyes focused upwards in the dark sky as she finally realized that, while still awake and conscious, she could no longer feel her arms and legs and the carnivorous demons ravaged her body and tore her limbs from her torso apart for sport.

I THINK I UNDERSTAND WHAT THIS PLACE IS, NOW.

The tears, once salty, bitter, became now bland to the taste when King looked up and the black became white – at the disfigured popcorn white ceiling above her – the bright lights equally blinding her as effectively as the dark once before.

THIS PLACE, THIS DARKNESS IS THE FINE LINE BETWEEN BEASTS AND MEN. THIS IS THE PLACE THAT separated [SANITY].

Agh. This picture once again. WHERE MEN AND BEASTS STARED AT EACH OTHER.

King's head rolled further back and to the side. Pleading. Begging. This wasn't what she wanted. Not this, not now. A clump of vomit escaped her mouth just as her head swiveled to the side and looked far and wide. Three blurry silhouettes revolved around a single point until slowly merging into a single discernable shape.

Her entire life was forged in suffering, and finally that obligation could be taken away.

…

"God… please… save… me."

…

In the DARK void, two shoes stood 10 yards away. At the last of her strength she lifted her eyes up – up those shins, knees, chest and finally to that face. OH.

Oh… It's you.

As three ghouls shackled King in the darkness and took turns stabbing their weapons into her body for sport, keeping her barely alive but in joyful glee ripping her arms and legs apart – a blond haired boy only watched silently as the sadistic massacre unfolded.

Why.

Why… Why won't you.

A light fog escaped the boy's lips, as it stood silent watching three monsters tear the girl apart for their own amusement.

Why won't you… King's face now trembled in fright and mortification. Biting her lip with the last of her energy. Whimpering – pathetically... whimpering sadly in an extreme heartbeat wondering why – why her body was now becoming so COLD but why. WHY WON'T THEY LET ME DIE?

A light fog escaped the boy's lips as the stood silent watching nonchalant when three monsters tore the girl apart for their own amusement.

"Oh, it's you. Prince." King sighed when she was pushed to the very edge of sanity.

The boy, an imaginary Prince with the pale face of a disfigured, twisted pierrot – his eyes were slits from side to side with small beady eyes and his mouth was a knife slash across his face to expose an array of bloody triangular teeth. IT looked down at King as she was gutted into a bloody, disgusting mess.

HE gave man a GIFT. That is, the gift of free will. …and so he, GOD, asked his most beautiful of ALL his creations…

"You have to make a choice – before I can help you."

Prince? Are you the [Prince]? Or… are you the [Star]?

Those boys won't kill you – you know that? Don't you? They will cut you. They will cut you so badly… IT sneered. Until…

Why won't you help me?! Why won't you HELP ME?!

Shall I call you the Prince? Are you the Star? Or no, wait… are you?

The blonde haired imaginary being looked back at the :y8IRL with sneering eyes when his eyelids folded down into tiny slits.

…

"...or… Is that you, GOD?"

I had done everything you commanded without question. But why won't you save me?

The baby's face contorted and trembled, and finally erupted into a shriek bawl. Crying so loud, so loud, she cried, yet no one came to her aid. There was no one who would hold him or comfort him. He cried, until his lungs became hoarse and dry. Then at that one distinct moment…

…

The blonde haired boy, HER one and only true friend put both hands on the wheelchair in front of him and pushed King to the precipice of the cliff on that crisp and clear world. The EVIL prince hunched down and put his chattering triangular teeth next to King's ear. The girl, King, absolutely helpless could do nothing but listen when both arms and legs were bandaged, petrified and trapped.

"Isn't this what you wanted? You are no longer able to FIGHT." The blonde haired boy coyly sneered into the girl's ear when she, now rendered quadriplegic, could no longer move. "You are free!"

So tell me… IS THIS what you want? FREEDOM?

…

Imprisoned in that aluminum wheelchair, King had now lost all feeling in all four limbs and could no nothing else but look outwards into the horizon. Is this freedom?

NO. No… NO! NOT THIS. NOT NOW!

Back then – at that time, I felt RAGE. A fiery red bloody clawing screaming rage wrapped itself around my body before putting both hands on my neck with a hateful squeeze.

{OR WAS IT 'THAT' TIME,}

…

"So tell me," GOD asked HER innocently. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

A fate worse than DEATH.

Chapter 109: Absolute Violation

When a boy spent his entire life SUFFERING. When our ENTIRE life was defined by FIGHTING. Now he found himself here in this cliff from the chains that imprisoned him. I gave you your wish didn't I?

"I gave you your wish didn't I? You're FREE now?" The boy asked.

You no longer need to fight. You are FREE now.

King could no longer feel her arms and her legs.

The girl bit down HARD, her teeth cutting deep into her lips as they trembled when her conflicting emotions rammed headfirst against each other. "Who are you? What must I call you,… GOD?"

"A," from a tight focus, King's gaze darted back when the rectangular freeze frame of the video camera that showed us the ways of the world rocketed up and backwards, skywards spinning around the two actors in this sad play, in this silent place of green peace, this lonely place up from heaven – for all of us to see. A picture perfect scene saved just for us to enjoy.

"Nnn… n… no…" she sobbed. "I… I… don't want to be he… heerere," Her voice cracked.

Tell me, why do we [fight]? My friend.

…

You know, yes, there are some agonies that even DEATH cannot hope to absolve. You know, in order to escape this dream, a fate worse than death, and in order to end all war - you have to destroy all of them. God gave you free will. So make right his gift.

"Choose." The [boy] leaned forward , is arms still clenched firmly on the handles of that cold wheelchair, and whispered into King's ear when she looked out to the sunset. "Choose – and I promise you, that your wish will be my command…"

To betray the defiant will that kept me alive, my reason for being. Betray all the suffering I had endured so many years ago. This FIGHTING that I hated so much – must I now embrace it? Was this… the first time… that I chose to become EVIL?

With both eyes wide open, dry and frozen was the tiny pinhole black in their centers, a tear ran down King's cheek.

"…my friend."

…