The Colour Purple Chapter 148: an Audience with God, 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.

ORIGINALLY CHAPTER 43 - The Berserker Phenomenon.

It's become all so blurry, all of a sudden. There was once a time when I thought that what I was doing had some deep, profound purpose, one embedded in true altruism – or were those actions just a slimy veneer to cover penance and reparation? Despite our best intentions, everyday had turned those once noble motives into indifference and apathy… and now – I wonder if there was even a purpose in me continuing any of this, because I've begun to not care.

One man wanted to atone for the crimes of 49 dead children. One man simply wanted to apologize to a friend. TO do that, both of them had to first command an audience with God.

I don't know what to do anymore. Why do I even continue this meaningless rambling? Anything to keep me feeling alive. If only to escape that cold, bland taste, you and I, Rugal and Heidern, come from different places, but we can't help but FIGHT – for no good reason at all.

…

"RUGAL!"

"Ivan?" Rugal said in a soft voice, confused.

"BEHIND YOU RUGAL!"

Rugal Bernstein was immediately pulled back to the real world, once again in a bitter, brittle old body, when the 175 pound weight directly situated over his shoulders made his knees buckle, forcing his center of mass shift immediately forward.

Heidern, now, reduced to a dark savage ghoul, with only one purpose… Heidern DROVE all 8 fingers into the soft crevices of Rugal's collarbone without mercy, driving them knuckle deep – embedding the full length of all his fingers into his enemy's flesh – WITHOUT MERCY.

To welcome him back to awakening, the searing, vicious PAIN absolutely overcame Rugal's body with the savage rancor, a righteous indignation that had built up for what felt like an eternity to NOW.

"GUUUAARGGHHHAGH!" The monster wailed.

"AUUUUGHH!" Rugal screamed in response as if crucified.

Was it the same? Was it the same, as, that, time? Or was it different? Rugal had now lost the capacity for conscious, calculated thought. Only one carnal desire, a singular, precise purpose that was the culmination of a decade of wait.

You will not win, this time… GOD.

Rugal instinctively reached for Heidern's wrists with both hands to prevent them from going any deeper, however, just as his fingertips closed together into a pair of fists, there was nothing there to grab.

The dark silhouette of Heidern's body was now crouching in front of Rugal Bernstein. Hunched over like a wild animal, yet despite all that, Heidern's fighting had conglomerated into a carnal technique, that, which his tendons, muscles and flesh memorized with succinct clarity even though his mind had already left him. Heidern's left arm outstretched straight in an awkward angle pointed behind his back and his right arm, folded under his left armpit – two blades gliding on the concrete pavement unleashing sparks, wailing about to unleash an attack so terrible.

HAIL TO VICTORY!

Heidern's right handed chop slashed a sword across Rugal's stomach cleaving in its wake a wave of crimson that splattered across the floor 6 feet away, resting at the end of its path of destruction, above Heidern, a familiar menacing salute.

Stumbling two then three steps backwards, Rugal hunched over, "How… How dare…"

How dare, how DARE YOU… Rugal took a step forward, but the weakness in his knees made him topple forward, making him kneel in front of the beast – only both hands keeping him upright. "How…" How dare you, challenge me, ME, challenge Rugal Bernstein…

Heidern's right hand salute floated up high, then Rugal realized. His left…

I did not survive ten years to be beaten so easily.

Rugal, with the last bit of desperation, his conscious mind teetering at the edges swung the back of his own right hand across the front of his body, just barely wiping away Heidern's left wrist downwards, deflecting the four fingers from driving themselves deep into his HEART.

Rugal grit his teeth down HARD, gnashing feverishly as if using his entire might to push the God of death away, just for a few more seconds.

"Heid… UGHH!" Rugal grunted in a guttural gurgling groan.

FOUR FINGER! – Heidern jammed his trademark spear into Rugal's left torso, wiggling his fingers inside.

Without another thought, Rugal's body moved on it's own, because, it finally realized – that perhaps – could it be – that THIS was the moment IT was waiting for. Rugal hammered his left fist with his entire strength downwards to dislodge the monster's fingers from the spaces in between his ribs.

Rugal pushed upwards and forward with his right hand, parrying Heidern's rushing attack poised for his neck, then rolling and swerving, Rugal's left hand rolled in tune with the figure eight motion of his upper body, jamming his fingers under Heidern's left elbow, deflecting another attack instantaneously.

Rugal's right shoulder twisted, hunched down and coiled like a spring underneath, collecting all that perpetual potential energy before EMBEDDING his fist deep into the monster's left rib cage with such ferocity the blonde haired old man was certain he could feel the weak tremors of the beast's heart when he sunk his fist deep into its body.

…

How long have I WAITED for this moment. After ALL the things I have done wrong. Poor choices, brought about by a mixture of blind arrogance, or simple blurry ignorance… Finally.

A normal human would be dead at such a blow, its bones piercing its heart causing irreparable internal bleeding, but Rugal knew this time, it would not be so easy. A tremendous force brought about by his entire might, Rugal's left fist wailed into the monster's right temple, crushing it into a pulp – but it was not enough – not now. In order to defeat a monster, you have to simply DESTROY every bit of it, until nothing is left, but a collection of unconnected pool of tendons, blood, muscle and flesh, physically unable to move – nothing but a soft liquid remnant of sorrow and regret.

[JUST. LIKE. ME.]

Again, Heidern's right spear stabbed forward with a quickness, as Rugal was barely able to swerve his hand to defend, as to pry away a vicious tick from sinking its mandibles into his heart. Rugal slapped his right hand upward deflecting – then, a left hook into Heidern's jaw, momentarily disorienting THE BEAST.

Rugal stepped forward with his left foot, as a cool calming breeze rushed thorough his hair. Calming the world in silence.

…

[Hatred.]

…even if it was NOT for each other…

HATRED inevitably brought us together, like FATE, unable to break free, and in the slight instantaneous moments, forcefully lodged in between the slight span of seconds, I think to myself. Was I wrong to involve you in all this? If I had chosen differently would we have inevitably crossed paths? Heidern? Neither of us needed a REASON to fight, all we needed was an EXCUSE.

IF GOD has chosen you… then it is destiny for us to fight. So I sigh for a moment, but I do not regret… in this SYMPATHY.

Rugal hurled all four knuckles with the same impact as a large six wheeler truck, 600 horsepower into the side of Heidern's face!

Rugal continued to run forward, pushing the monster backwards, it's now flaccid body floating limply as a comet carried an ant into its final doom. WHAM!

Rugal's outstretched punch once again embedded Heidern's skull into the concrete wall.

The BEAST – part 8.

They say, as in all these types of GAMES… They say that you have to activate your final enemy in 3 phases, force them to reveal their 3 final forms. A silly notion, but not false.

Abandoning any sort of mercy, even as Heidern gurgled, like a small animal pleading for life, Rugal paid no heed and just gripped his enemy's face with his right hand to hold it still. Heidern flailed with meager strength, clawing wildly, pitifully… however by this time Rugal easily pried the fingers off his face, off his body like a fully grown adult simply pushing aside a baby's desperate plea to fight back… as he drowned the baby with two hands on its neck.

…

"Do you know what it says there, Dr. Brahms?" Rugal pointed to the text etched on the bottom of the tall, tubular glass aquarium on the lower level in front of them.

"No, I do not Mr. Bernstein." Dr. Brahms shifted his spectacles up and down to get a better focus, but in vain.

"God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him." Rugal responded. "Genesis chapter 1, verse 27." The tax and toils of time had not been merciful to Rugal. His once graceful features were now wrinkled and weathered, all hidden underneath a full beard, blonde but peppered with gray and black.

"I never thought you to be a religious man." Dr. Brahms said.

"No, no I never was. And I am not. In fact, I lose track, I don't even know if Judaism acknowledges which book." Rugal was quick to reply. "…Man… made in God's image. Have you ever thought of that concept, Dr. Brahms?"

"I have. I have Mr. Bernstein." Brahms mused. "I have heard of the idea that the human body can only utilize approximately 30% of the brain. What if the human brain, by design, has a lock, that prevents us from utilizing all of our mental power all at once, and what if there are failsafes, like electrical fuses in our human body that limit us from reaching a higher state - what if we are able to genetically create an optimum body through the concept of eugenics, then break the body and let it slowly rebuild until it can withstand the demands of a 70%, 80% brain?"

What of that?

Rugal crossed his arms over his chest, and he couldn't help but chuckle to himself.

"Mr. Bernstein?" Dr. Brahms did well to hide his slight annoyance.

"No, I apologize." Rugal put his palm up. "You are INDEED an intelligent man. It is just… I just thought of a friend of mine. Who said the same thing; And, I do miss him so very dearly."

"Heidern will turn 60 years old... its fascinating…" Dr. Brahms said.

The DIVINE CLUE. Could we have, by a higher ontological… an intelligent design theorem, have the potential to become Gods ourselves? I so miss you my friend.

"Forgive me, I just remembered a good friend who passed away a decade ago, Dr. Brahms." Rugal said whimsically, nostalgically.

"Indeed, friends are wonderful, sir."

Yes they are. And what he said was true. Even if I could amass the wealth of the entire world, 'certainly', it would not even be nearly enough to purchase enough minutes to let HIM know, to thank him for each and every time he made this world a more bearable place, by mere dint of his existence. Oh how I so miss you my friend.

…and how I so DESPISE that GOD who took you away. Indeed, I cannot turn back time, but even if there exists a remote possibility of [IT].

You were right. My only regret was that, there was just not enough time to let you know. So, if I cannot reverse time, then I will endeavor to make YESTERDAY and TODAY one and the same. Take my REVENGE against GOD. Then all will become RIGHT with the world.

…

I think you know it too… "I think you know it too, deep down inside. Heidern…" Rugal said with a sigh. He said as Heidern's weak body flailed in desperation as it drowned - when its demonic body – its lungs filled with blood.,

I… I did not…

"You…" Rugal said. "Your family is gone, Heidern…"

Heidern's one remaining eye from crimson red, blinked erratically and faded into darkness. In the end… as we lay alone in the dark, wonder…

In the finality of it all... WE had determined our own fate.

…

Heidern was in his living room once again. His nice white, peaceful living room.

'It was January in 1963… Johnny, don't point that gun at me.'

"I'm home." Heidern called out.

The voice of his wife's crying was what greeted him. Sandra was on the couch with his face in her hands. On her lap was a small sheet of paper.

"What's wrong?" He said as he approached her... however, lost in a trance, Sandra was completely oblivious to Heidern's existence. Heidern apprehensively reached out, but his hands simply phased though her shivering body.

Heidern's attention focused on the letter in her lap. It was a plain piece of paper...

The day was April 22, 1987.

'We regret to inform you…' The letter started.

Heidern's eyes froze, his heart immediately dropped to the pit of his stomach as he instinctively looked to the wall mirror to his side... he saw his wife, the living room, but, but what was most distinct was that Heidern couldn't see his own reflection. Heidern's speech skipped like a scratched CD, the words came out as erratic gasps and gurgles.

..and Heidern was lost in a forest of confusion, gazing outwards in the darkness, believing that somehow, if he tried hard enough, he could somehow begin to comprehend what was going on – like the phantom pain you feel when you look at your arm but are unable to make It move to our command – when everything you thought was REAL had somehow changed.

Or… perhaps… was this the purest form of denial?

"What's wrong, mom?" Clara asked as she walked closer.

Clara?

[Dear Ms. Smyth,]

[In 1984, despite repeated efforts to search for his whereabouts, the Corporation had lost contact with your husband after mission 9900184C.

After 3 years of reconnaissance we regret to inform you …]

Sandra did not have to read any further, because the aching pain in her heart already knew what the rest of the letter would say – now as beads of tears peppered the piece of paper in her hand as it trembled uncontrollably because – the day had finally come… This was the day she had waited for, despite her best efforts to blind herself to it.

The fateful day when her salty tears pooled over the ink in front of her and made them stream across the white paper into blurry black clouds that held no meaning anymore.

"Momma?" Clara said softly, concerned, confused…

[As per the pre-determined agreement, the Corporation has set aside a set amount accrued throughout the lifetime set aside by the terms of…]

I don't want your money…

…

I don't want your lies.

…

[Your husband served nobly and was a cornerstone for the Corporation from its very inception, and it is with our entire heart, we…]

I'll gladly give it back – all of it … if only you could erase everything between what happened THEN and what is happening NOW!

…

I don't think you understand it yet? DO you?

…

Heidern chuckled, apprehensively.

I think I still remember it… slightly, and I don't think it's my mind filling in the blank spaces in between in order to keep my sanity intact. THIS was indeed the first time I met you.

The woman shyly looked up, slowly, carefully, rolling her eyes so she could barely, just barely see his face from under the tops of her eyelids. Believing somehow that if she did not see his face, she would somehow be protected. But, in the end she did break a nervous smile and grin.

Heidern reflected a slight sour scowl, but as she continued to smile and giggle a bit more, mayhaps a bit frustrated, even the stoic Heidern could not defeat such a powerful onslaught.

…and so he did smile in return.

I wish I never met you back then, Sandra. Had I not met you, or had I walked away instead, I would not have hurt you…

…

"Mama?" Clara said, shaking her mother's shoulder with one hand and pointing at the door with the other. "Mama!"

Sandra looked up, responding to her daughter and the sound of the door handle unlatching.

Sandra's face twisted and turned as a wild miasma of emotions overcame her. The bitter taste that had seeped into every bit into her very body seemed to ebb and fade away as a warm glow radiated from her heart and into her face. Her voice trembled and spasmed, her breathing became wild and erratic for Sandra momentarily had lost the ability to exhale.

The door SLAMMED open.

"You."

A blonde haired man walked calmly into his house, with an aloof and sinister smile plastered on his face. Taking one step and two, the world viewed from the perspective of an ant as the villain took careful steps towards Sandra, Heidern's wife and Clara, Heidern's daughter.

"RUGAL!" Heidern screamed. "RUGAL!" But, as he took a step forward, he fell to his knees, slamming both palms onto the ground on all fours in a vain attempt to remain upright. Heidern exhaled twice in confusion and fright, as the mounting pressure and the overwhelming stress overcame his entire being, he could not move and his body – and all he could do was count in his mind as Rugal Bernstein took steady and measured steps towards his helpless wife and daughter.

Move. Please. MOVE! Heidern pleaded to his arms and legs. If you do not.

…

1990.

"You do not understand," The brunette lady said. "You don't understand [it] yet do you?"

The beat of the helicopter blades left a hard booming THUMP in their ears in rapid succession in that rooftop. When a small lady pointed a menacing finger to the two women and a beaten old blonde haired man.

You stupid, stupid people.

…

1987.

If you do not. If you do not move, this man will kill my family! Don't you realize that?

Please… Don't let him…

Rugal drove his hand forward, gripped his right hand over Sandra's neck and pushed her back.

"SANDRA! SANDRA! RUGAL! RUGAL!" Heidern screamed on all fours.

Sandra's feet shuffled in place as she desperately fought for her life. Her heels slipped in place – she tried to pull back, get away, somehow escape, but now Rugal's other hand clamped down on her neck to strangle her slowly, mercilessly, as Rugal grinned, gingerly applying pressure bit by bit in sadistic nature when his prey desperately pleaded.

"I'LL KILL YOU! I SWEAR I'll KILL YOU, RUGAL!" Heidern wailed. "I'm HERE RUGAL! OVER HERE! FIGHT ME! FIGHT ME YOU COWARD!"

Agh! Please. Please God. Even after all I've done wrong, after all I've tried to do – please. Please don't let his happen. I'll give you ANYTHING. ANY THING. EVERY THING.

Despite his desperate wails, and after all the prayers many before him have sent to heaven, this was all that replied – it was silence and darkness.

"STOP! STOP Ruga…"

With a loud, deafening crack of bone, Sandra's hands released their grip on Rugal's wrist and slithered down her body only to fall limp on her sides on the couch.

"SANDRAAAA!" Heidern tucked his entire body into a crumpled fetal position on the ground, absolutely powerless as the fate of the world continued to rotate despite his ever desperate plea to a God's plan who would not listen.

A… Agh. Heidern wheezed in desperation when the last bit of breath was forcefully expunged from his body when an invisible foot crushed him like an insect. That. He was merely an insignificant insect in this great plan.

The sound once again. IT was a sound so clear and booming Heidern would never forget it – Rugal stood up and walked around the couch that was now Sandra's grave.

No. No.

No, wait.

No wait…. Anything… anything…

I'm sorry. "I'm sorry." Heidern pleaded. Please, tell me what you want, please don't do it. "RUGAL!" Heidern only able to move his shoulders forcefully slithered his body on the floor pitifully. "Rugal." His speech spasming and slurred as his face dragged on the floor. "Please…" Heidern sobbed.

Completely deaf to Heidern's pleas, Rugal walked up to Clara. Heidern's daughter, petrified in fear bit her lip and hugged her stuffed bear with both hands, pulled it close to her chest and closed her eyes.

Please… Nnn..no… the grown man now pleaded, sobbed, prostrating himself.

Rugal placed his left hand over Clara's shoulder and ran his right hand over the top of her head.

Rugal… Please… God. If you can.

If you can hear me – please, I will do anything.

"Clara… Clara, run. RUN! CLARA!" Heidern slithered on the ground but could go no further as an invisible wall blocked his advance and unseen talons dragged him backwards by his ankles.

…

Many scholars have asked this question.

If your God is truly a benevolent god, then… why does he sit idly, and why, does he allow his children to suffer?

…

A quick snap, Rugal twisted the girl's neck, and a plush animal fell to the ground.

And that sound…

…

Chapter 148: an Audience with God

Heidern's voice wheezed into a hoarse pitiful silence. Both trembling fists curling in front of his mouth.

The sound continued to echo, like a knife pierced deep in his heart, and would not stop from inflicting constant pain in all the hours of day and all the lingering moments of night.

IF salvation cannot give me peace, then it must follow – when all choices are taken away from him – there is only one recourse a man can take. When GOD was deaf to his wishes, even as his child offered EVERYTHING to him. Every thing.

"Hhhgggeehhhh…." Heidern wheezed in a weak pitiful whimper as he crumpled onto the ground, the saliva oozing down the sides of his mouth. Agh. So that was it. Even if I prayed hard, so very hard, I can't turn back time anymore, can I? With his face on the ground, the sides of Heidern's mouth curled up sucking in the filth and grime of the ground as lunacy overcame his face.

…

"You did NOT find GOD, RUGAL BERNSTEIN!" The lady said, pointing out with her leather gloved hand across her olive drab green fatigues. "Du hast entfesselt…"

…

Battle not with monsters…

Oh. I remember now.

1990.

"EH?" Rugal's outstretched punch once again embedded Heidern's skull into the concrete wall.

Within the crevice of his gouged eye, a red orb began to glow inside the void. Within the void, it stares back at you. The Beast's mouth curled up in a maniacal smile. A dark, sinister, wide open maw that could only be described as a beast's smile, completely covered Heidern's face.

IF YOU GRANT ME THE CHANCE FOR VENGEANCE. I WILL GIVE YOU – EVERY THING. EVERY. THING.

Bringing himself back to life, Heidern swung both arms wide and hurled them both into the sides of Rugal's skull with a deathly vise grip. With the same tremendous force of a sledgehammer, Heidern grabbed his enemy's head and slammed the top of his forehead directly into Rugal's face with his entire might – with the same viciousness – the same rage and rancor – that a grown man would send a piledriver into an ANT. A sudden flash turned the world into black and white; and an x-ray picture displayed the front of Rugal's face fractured and cracked.

To crush it, to DESTROY it. Annihilate it. The RAGE into that ant so that ABSOLUTELY NOTHING would remain.

'You were the ONE.' You are the only reason I am still alive.