The Colour Purple... The King of Fighters '95
Based on the Characters of The King of Fighters '95 Copyright 1995(C) SNK
Original Fan Fiction Copyright (C) 1995 [ENGEL] Design Room 1995
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.
ORIGINALLY CHAPTER 40.
[So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them.] Genesis 1:27
I love my wife, Sandra.
I love my daughter, Clara.
(25)
Defrosted from his slumber, Heidern blinked once then twice, looking out only to find waiting for him the scene of utter horror. {Wai..} He sai…
…
"Wait."
1977.
1990.
A blurred vision surrounded his naked body, interrupted in steady intervals only by a long stream of bubbles within that cold liquid purgatory.
…
1991.
"Heidern, we've come to take you home, sir." A man from the side says. He has nice jet black permed hair, and has a bandanna on, and next to him is another with a blue hat and shades. Men of valor, of war.
Wait, where am I?
"Let's go home, sir." Ralf said, softly, lovingly. The boy wrapped his fingers of the handlebars of Heidern's cold wheelchair.
With a sense of urgency, the ebb and flow of time fell into chaos, the clock spun feverishly round and round in perpetual motion over and over from the winter of 1977 to a spring of 1991.
We are all, each and every one of us, indeed trapped in a DREAM that goes in both directions in perpetuity. And REGRET is the strongest chain that binds it all.
"There is no antidote... sir." The man with the Bandanna says to me.
"Hey… Common!" Clark says with a familiar ring, slapping both hands together...
…
[YOU DON'T,
LIVE HERE
ANYMORE.]
…
"Deutsches Jungvolk. Do you know what that means, Dr. Owen?" Dr. Brahms asked, his inflection more a statement than a question. "In 1944, in Pforzheim, a town in Southwestern Germany, they knew the horror of its multilayered TRUE meaning."
…
Despite all our best-willed intentions, even when we wanted to forget it all… the horrors came flowing back. If you were not paying attention and allowed your mind to go astray – it, a predator, came to you, suddenly. It was the year 1990 all over again.
Chapter 141: Riot
"Mr. Bernstein..." Mature called out to the darkened throne room. "There's a call for you from Dr. Owen from the research lab. They need you for some possible damage control."
"Damage control?" A large built blonde haired man cooed romantically while stroking the velveteen nape of his pet panther.
"He's afraid 'Number 6' might reach critical soon."
"Ahm, Heidern..." Rugal purred. "How nice. Yet how inconvenient… that he may be meeting with his god too soon." Rugal sighed longingly as he fondled the soft plush animal in between his fingers. Patches of splattered red crimson, the bloody teddy bear sat peacefully his hands. As such it should – in the presence of an EVIL DEMON.
…
To be able to TURN back time, and to have the ability to reverse the concept of REGRET?
To SLAY your enemies, and reinvent the future…
If you stay with me, I WILL MAKE YOU A GOD. Is that so horrible a thought? Isn't that what YOUR people wanted? Is that so very difficult to understand? After what you did to mankind?
Heidern.
…and all you had to give me in return… was… The [RIOT!]
...
"Control, we need an evac, NOW! I've got 12 wounded and 8 in critical condition here... I am aborting the mission..." Heidern said to the walkie talkie.
"Negative Dark Angel group." The static answered. "We have to get those CDs. This is the only shot we'll ever have. The Syndicate will high tail it to the Philippines and go in hiding if we blow this."
"SON OF A BITCH! I WANT THOSE CHOPPERS _NOW_!" Heidern exploded.
"Angel 1, we need you to get into the mansion complex." Base answered. "You're paid for this Angel 1."
"I'M NOT GOING TO LEAVE MY BOYS BEHIND YOU FUCKIN…!
Then time stopped for a moment linking the past and the future into one binding them with chains.
"Lassen Sie die Jungs zurück!" Was the cold and terse response. From that high technology radio in Heidern's hands, the resolution suddenly dropped to a low fidelity from 45 years ago.
…
LEAVE THOSE BOYS BEHIND. Heidern. His radio suddenly responded in German, as if caused by a telephone cross talk connection.
...
"Commander. COMMANDER!" Ralf shouted over the full automatic fire, peeking up and ducking under cover. "Comm… Heidern... COMANDER HEID…" Ralf's voice slowly whittled into a soft whisper until the slowly flowing sequence of images became no different from a silent movie.
I am Hiedern.
Clark's index finger stretched out, depressed the magazine release on his rifle, and with unconscious precision charged a fresh magazine into the magwell. In the same rotational motion the boy twisted his muzzle forward, he slapped the bolt release forward with this left hand.
Though Clark could not help but turn his head to the left side and watch Heidern's shoulder slump weakly, his hands perch themselves over his squatting knees. Heidern gazed out blankly into the horizon. It was something he had never seen his commander do – ever – and he did not put to words, the concept that epileptic mental seizure, but deep inside he understood the underlying concept of it in that split second.
Clark did not really comprehend it enough to put it into words but deep down he slightly had a rudimentary understanding of it by now.
Bilateral Assymetrical Asynchonicity.
Just as easily as we dream of the past, we are simultaneously linked to the future.
…
Did you see what [I] saw then too? Did the Knight show you the [Children] as well?
"And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music." -Friedrich Nietzsche
…
I am trapped in a monochrome world but I see the red clearly. I see the blood gushing out of Alex's body like anything. I see his face, no hate malice, or regret. It was smiling.
Then the silence stopped, the rumbling tempo came to the forefront when Alex, and a handful of other children flew back as lead projectiles tattered their bodies. It separated limbs in a pitiful way. Some of them tried to claw and drag their bodies back, only to be devoured by fully automatic fire on the ground, on their bellies.
…and even death was not enough respite for his children… for when they lay dead on the ground, the turrets and evil machines continued to shoot at them, further degrading their lifeless bodies by mashing them into pulsating clumps of flesh and bone.
NO. STOP.
"Commander Heide…" One boy leapt forward, only to have a bullet tear his forehead brutally from his face. As his body fell back in front of Heidern, multiple bullets continued to devour the young boy.
Yet, Heidern stared forward, lost in the vast cosmos.
"SIR! RUN AWAY… RUN…" Then another voice fell silent.
Heidern's pupils shrunk into pinholes, dreaming of another place and another time.
"Comm…! Heidern! HEIDERN! FUCK!" Ralf cussed to himself. "CLARK! Clark we have to…"
"A." The world slowed to a standstill, it was a very familiar feeling he thought he had already forgotten, but now, he could see the globular beads of moisture float across his face, clear water and viscous red blood. His lips puckered out in curiosity, and though he did not realize it at first, his expression betrayed him – Clark could not help but grit his teeth, at first a sour expression, only to be replaced slowly into a bittersweet grin.
…
The BEAST – part 1.
"Deutschland Erwache…" A boy's voice wheezed. Instead of 'save me', instead of 'mama', instead of 'why'? Those were the words that came out of his lips. It was a lost generation. As capricious as the weather it enslaved us.
Heidern, Mein Freund. Du musst leben.
He did not plead for his life. He did not cry for his mother. He did not curse his oppressor. Instead. 'You must live,' the German child soldier wheezed with his last breath.
My friend.
A teenage boy, taken away from a life of peace entitled to all of children simply had to look down stone faced and indifferent as his comrade faded into nothingness, his life worthless and without meaning. With the same stare he looked out to the horizon, and all he saw…
A blonde haired British boy stood straight at him, locking his gaze with his without fear.
A hardened KNIGHT faced Heidern square on from the other side of the town square. His friends littered on the ground dead around both boys like a beautiful flower garden. This was the ultimate will of destruction.
...
1990.
A dozen white robed scientists were in utter shock at the figures showing up on their data screens. The printouts were flooding the room, with erratic brainwave jumps.
"Dr. Brahms!" One called out from the pit. Brahms looked down from his pedestal. Looking down at his subordinate scientists.
"It's 006, it's reaching!"
"MY GOD! Look at these figures, it ten times more than we expected." Owen exclaimed. All the small blinking lights changed from yellow to green.
"IT'S A SUCCESS! THE EXPERIMENT IS A SUCCESS!" The white robed lab mice cheered in glee as they threw the scraps of printout like confetti.
"We've done it MAZEL TOV!"
"Magnificent..." Dr. Brahms smiled. "Well done, VERY well done, Herr Heidern. Avutah dovah." He whispered bitterly in Hebrew. "MY FRIENDS, please enjoy your victory. We are all already dead." Brahms smiled downcast with a sigh.
...
Alex whimpered not a sound and slowly, his cold body fell with a thud on the burning soil. Heidern froze, he couldn't breathe properly, each breath felt like he was scratching the insides of his dry lungs. He tried to suck air in, but the sensation felt no different from a metal file rasping his insides. He forced it in and in return, he spat blood. It was all over his hands, he tried feverishly to wipe them off, wiped them on his clothes, on Alex's face, but they wouldn't get off.
Get the blood off!
Haim aithh mbn. {Do you understand now?} came a voice.
"Who are you?!" Heidern called out.
{I am me, I am you, and I am G_O_D.}
"Get out of my mind!"
{Don't you hate them now?}
"CLARK!" Ralf screamed until his voice became hoarse.
I see. I understand this. {You are all, already DEAD!"} Clark whispered to himself.
Then, let me be your sword, and I shall SLAY thine enemies. I shall send them to hell. Let me be your eyes, and I will show you the true vision of hell
I will give you the sword that will SLAY your enemies...
Instantly, Clark's expression froze in shock. He threw his rifle forward, leaned to the side, put both folded arms over his left ear and dropped to the ground.
RALF. Ralf was an animal of pure carnal instinct. Slow to learn, difficult to change, but if one thing is true in this convoluted existence, that animal instinct kept him alive this long. In contrast, Clark, a boy who kept silence as his friend, hardly said anything and feared no one and nothing, absolutely nothing at all,… if Clark was prostrating himself on the dirty soil, Ralf was not arrogant enough to defy this base concept.
Ralf did not understand it at first, but immediately he knew he had to take action – mimicking Clark's movements he did the same and dropped to the earth and pushed his body as far down as it would go in panic. FUCK! FUCK THIS NOISE! Ralf covered his ears.
…
From the monochrome world, Heidern's vision became crimson as if someone had splattered blood over his face. The crimson flowed from the side of his eyes, and Heidern could only scream in pain, but more in horror at the illusion, the hallucination he saw. The blood, the demons, the dying bodies being gutted by inhuman beasts.
{THIS is the true view of HELL. Orochi.} The voice mumbled. Orochi... the evil force that could never be put to sleep. For 1800 years.
Riot.
Clark's silent lips slowly mimicking the syllables with careful and distinct care. His mouth mouthing the letters. R – I – O – T.
…
"Hey common!" The blonde haired boy sneered. A picture lost in the sequence of time.
Bilateral Assymetrical Asynchonicity.
…
[Riot of the Blood.]
HEIDERN!
Bloody whips. Thorny strings that were once liquid splashed outward with centrifugal motion only to solidify into tempered crimson blades at the last instant, spanning 25 yards easily, 2, 4, 16 whipping weapons cutting everything that dared to defy its path. A spiral top of indiscrimate DEATH, propelled by the string of regret.
A! His enemy's vision cracked – now a diagonal blade cut the picture perfect world in front of his face, just at the moment when he would realize that the upper half of his skull was sliding to the side when his head was slashed instantly in two.
EVERYONE.
ALL OF MY ENEMIES. They exploded into chunks of cleanly cut flesh and bone all at once at the immediate will of judgment! Rendering all his enemies as mere puppets splattered into mists of red, without even the time to scream.