The Colour Purple Chapter 155: War Machines, 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

And, [THAT] is why, [THEY] truly, truly fear the Knight. THIS is his true power.

While the Project Deutsches Jungvolk officially ended at the end of the second world war, perhaps the British had some accidental foresight and even without government intervention, their WILL could continue naturally. When a boy met a girl. Here.

…as they always had.

…

Wednesday, February 29, 1984. Heidern, presumed fatally wounded, is captured by enemy forces in a Rhodesia.

December, 1984. In South Africa, the Directors of the Board formally dissolve The Private Military Company by unanimous vote.

Medical records found in Johannesburg in 1990 indicate Wilhelm Heidern voluntarily sought psychiatric care from a Dr. Johan Brahms in South Africa in 1985.

April 22, 1987. Sandra and Clara Smyth were discovered brutally murdered in their home. Wilhelm Heidern who was present at the scene is taken in for physical and psychiatric evaluation. Time of deaths estimated to be 10:03 pm.

May 27, 1987. Wilhelm Heidern disappears from St. Michael's Military Hospital.

1987-1990. The remnants of the Company trace Heidern's whereabouts to Brahms' underground secret laboratory in Johannesburg, South Africa and in 1990 after 2 and a half years stage an insertion and extraction operation at 11:00 pm Standard Time.

At 12:00, at the midnight, the catastrophe known as The Berserker Phenomenon was formally documented.

…

"Son, don't get involved with that man. That man was the ONLY survivor of the King of Fighters in Munich in 1980. With the explosion so many people died."

"1980?" Clark said. "Wasn't there a bombing in Germany?"

"Listen, Clark, what happened in Munich wasn't a bomb." Knight said, carefully measuring his words. "Something else happened in the King of Fighters tournament, and only Rugal knows the truth of what happened."

"Pops," Clark reeled the old man back in as calmly as he could. "How do you know all this?!"

"THEY asked me to join the KOF80. But I refused." Knight said.

The [4th Syndicate] wanted me to join, but I refused, even when I knew they would one day threaten King.

"Pops, you have to help me. I have to FIGHT this man." Clark pleaded. "I have to save Heidern and I need your help.

"Son, listen to me… if you want to [fight] this man, Rugal – he may not be the only man you have to fight…" Knight warned. "You have to listen to what I have to say… Rugal is insane! He and The 4th Syndicate want to recreate what happened 'back then'."

And to do this they had to control one of two things, me, OR Heidern. Listen to me Clark, if I understand all this madness correctly… It may not be just Rugal you have to FIGHT, Clark… If this goes very wrong, you may have to fight WILHELM too.

The [offsprings of the Knight] both threaten their carefully laid out plan, and also, could bring about the reckoning. What they cannot control, absolutely petrifies [them].

I DO NOT WANT MY SON TO FIGHT MY FRIEND.

1987.

You do not have to simply fight a madman, but realize that if you fight him, you may have to FIGHT a MONSTER too.

…

1990.

"…!" Mature gasped from down below. Then. The camera launched up to the ceiling twisting rapidly upwards and outwards until the clear picture became plain – a wild woman fearlessly faced the beast in mid air. "Wait. WAIT! STOP!" Mature pleaded in vain.

"Are you afraid of me, girl?"

"No!" She said again, quickly snapping a smug reply.

Then the THIRD LESSON will come easily. "SHOW NO MERCY!"

Berzerker VS Berserker.

Two bodies floated slowly in mid air, in the darkness…

"Hello." A woman's voice interrupted the silence.

Heidern swung his left claw at his aggressor.

"HaGH!" The brunette met the attack head on with the same illogical impossibility – parrying the blow at the wrist and hurling Heidern's claw aside.

How amusing… how fun… how…

"…!" Mature gasped from down below. Then. The camera launched up to the ceiling twisting rapidly upwards and outwards until the clear picture became plain – a wild woman fearlessly faced the beast, twisting in mid air. "Wait. Stop!" Mature pleaded in vain.

In order to fight an utmost evil, another of equal power must arise.

The war machine appears.

"VICE! VIIIIIIIIIICE!" Mature wailed from below.

"TANOSHIIII NEEEEE!" Vice roared when she threw both arms up in a V shape and 10 tall dark talons materialized from her fingers.

DESTROY ALL OF THE THINGS!

In order to fight an enemy so great, so towering over you – someone you have to commit your entire being towards at every instant, you have to focus, devote and dedicate every bit of your soul to meet head on. And during this moment, when you collect every fiber of your being to face this thing… As with every revolt, as with every gamble, one must be prepared to sacrifice hearth, home, wealth and freedom in the outcome. One does not simply fight a war and not stake, not just her body, but she must offer her very existence at the same time.

However, many do not realize ahead of time that at the precise moment she offers her entire existence to FIGHT someone else, there is a distinct instance, that both lines share an intersection.

…and at this intersection silent words can be exchanged and ENEMIES completely UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER.

TENDRILS.

Ten talons JABBED into Heidern's skull, five from each side, taking firm grip and unwilling to let go in that very instant.

The brunette, Vice, cartwheeled 360 degrees in midair until finally slamming her feet forcefully into the ground as she pulled both arms downwards and sidewards, pulling dark ropes taut at the same moment of impact. Then.

Then.

Without a moment of mercy, both arms, as would two ropes tied to a rag doll that was Heidern plowed the man's body across the ceiling, down the wall, leaving a cleaving remnant through the mix of concrete and steel through the room.

A circular path of sharded metal and concrete remained from ceiling to wall, floor, up behind, across the ceiling again completely around until finally Heidern's monstrous body was impaled head first into the ground.

A hard CRACK, painful to hear echoed through the cold laboratory. Heidern's disjointed head tilted in an angle it was not designed to, and a black and white x-ray view of his cracked skull and shattered neck made it even more gruesome to watch.

"UUURRRGhhh…" Heidern groaned, but unwilling to succumb to the sound of his dying knell, Heidern snarled, "…gghhhRAAGH!"

Dark spots littered the ground below him, scattered in exact orderly patterns – like reeds, thistles, or more like black, short tendrils much like those of sea anemone.

The ground was illuminated in white light, in its center, a dark perfect circle surrounding Vice and Heidern, with a single thin line bisecting it.

"VICE!" Rugal shouted, desperately trying to sit up eventhough his entire body was in pain. "It's HAPPENING!"

"ZZzzakkkeghnNAH YO! OI!" Vice snarled, pulling both arms towards her, as if she wanted to rip her face open with her fingers. "Atai GA, SENSOU KIKAInDAZOU!"

I am not afraid of you. I… I am a WAR MACHINE!

The dark circle traced on the ground began to bubble, almost liquefy and rise up, transform from 2 dimensional into a 3 dimensional miasma.

Vice swung both arms forward and like whips, 2 large shadow hands reached out from 20 feet away, grabbing each side of Heidern's face. Before the beast could react, Vice commanded the arms to swing her prey laterally around the room, dragging the man's head across the wall. When both of Vice's hands met over her left shoulder, she mimicked a gesture with both arms grasping an invisible sledge hammer and swung down – an instant later Heidern's limp body came crashing back to the original point of impact into a larger deeper crater twice the original size that reached the ceiling and in its center was the old man's head lodged deep into the concrete and steel.

As quickly as it had appeared, the dark circle was gone, and the whitewashed eternal void faded back into the dark cold reality. Along with it, Heidern's body fell silent.

…

11:5X. OUTSIDE, 100 meter secured hallway.

Clark tilted his head up, absolutely quiet, he gazed outwards trying to hear and for an instant his brows furrowed as a sudden sense of urgency overcame the expression in his face.

It's been a decade since I've done this, and I don't know if I can still do IT. Cracking his knuckles as he curled them into a hard fist, the blonde haired man took a deep breath. I wonder… IF this tired, old body can still do IT? Clark rolled his stiff and weathered shoulders.

There's no time… it's [happening].

"MR. CLARK!" Jung Kim pleaded. "Wait…"

"Mr. Kim." Clark said with a smile. "Do you want to see, a gift from GOD?"

…

When two extremely powerful celestial forces meet at the same point during the beginning of time. The intersection of Love and Hate. The distinct moment these [two] conflicting feelings crash together. It is called the [SINGULARITY].

Where a distinct existence can be completely replaced, in kind, for a wish.

This was the conflict that started the world.

…however, at the other end of it, is [the HAPPENING]. When an emotion so great, positive or negative is so uncontrollable, IT summons an immeasurable will of despair and destruction, and creates a pathway towards the end of the story.

IT happened in 1980. And IT will happen in 1990 also. Ten years after…

…

Step by step, Vice's platform shoes left a hollow echoed throughout the laboratory as she made her way lethargically towards the beast's empty body. "KKgggGhhh…" Vice snarled, loosening the phlegm and sludge in her throat in a petulant manner. The thrill and excitement she had felt earlier at the brink of certain death was quickly robbed from her and all that was left is indifference with only a lingering taste of the inevitable boredom her master warned her of.

Vice walked up without an ounce of fear just 2 feet away from Heidern who sat up limp on the floor, in a crater and his head firmly embedded into the wall. She curled her right hand into a fist, and as she lifted it, a larger black fist near 4 feet in diameter appeared around it.

She swung once with her right, then in a slow drone, her left, right, left and right – two large battering rams slammed mercilessly into Heidern, driving him deeper and deeper into the wall. However, at this point, it had transgressed further than an opponent who is no longer willing to fight, it was more dissatisfying than stomping on a small dead, bloody animal.

"Agh!" Vice snarled, lifting her right hand one more time, holding it up ready to crush what was left of Heidern's head into a pulp.

"A… any…thing…" A soft whisper gurgled out of Heidern's dislodged mouth, his jaw teetering lifelessly.

Vice's swing was firmly interrupted. Mature grabbed Vice's wrist with her own hand.

"Stop." Mature commanded sternly.

"EGH!?" Vice snarled defiantly, a piercing, murderous stare driven directly at the blonde haired woman.

"I said STOP." Mature repeated. "That's enough."

Vice instinctively twisted her wrist free and took a step back – her right palm was up now, and behind it was a four foot wide clawed monstrosity floated, ready to strike.

Mature made no move, and as if staring down a wild beast, she kept still, further driving the entire world to an uncomfortable silence.

After a few seconds, the stalemate had become too burdensome, and perhaps Vice had lost all interest, only to lower her stance, and walk up to Mature. Vice cocked her chin up and glared at Mature face to face, their noses just millimeters apart. The lingering torment drove Vice mad, and she begged for something, anything to happen – it did not matter what, just any excuse to go wild.

Mature knew better, and did not make any movement and simply stared back, her brows firm but expression blank and bored.

"RAGGGHHK!" Vice cussed one last time before turning and stomped away like a spoiled child, and that was all that resulted from that encounter, though neither of these women likely would have wanted to dwell on the issue for even a moment longer.

…

Though I wonder. Why did I do that? What compels a woman to do the things they do. Just as men are slave to certain carnal natures, both the extremes of visceral and virtuous – it seems rather foolish to stand in front of the warpath of a mad machine like Vice, that much Mature knew, when it would have been safer to watch from a safe distance.

Mayhaps it's an unreasonable sense of empathy. Even a very slight sympathy for the beast.

…

"San… Sandra…" Heidern whispered.

This inherent weakness of EMPATHY. By design is likely the reason mankind has survived for this long and has not eradicated itself completely from existence.

Mature turned and looked down at Heidern's body, now no more threatening than a dog that had been struck by a car and was now likely fully aware, that it was slowly dying.

"Heidern..." Mature said.

"San…dra…. Do…n't… Sandr…a…" Heidern… "Cla…ra…. Pl…ease… I'll do anyt…hing. Pl…ease. Please… Not Clara… take me…"

Mature closer her eyes and with a sour expression turned to the side.

"…ta…ke me in…ste…ad.." He pleaded pitifully.

Mature curled her lower lip into her mouth and firmed her brow so it would not break. Refusing to show any sign of weakness, she said her words slowly… and carefully."

Rugal… you often talked about the concept of the 'just communication'.

"Heidern." Mature said softly. "I do not hate you."

It is simply because my master made a quarrel with you – and because of that, I had no choice, but to make you my enemy also. I promise you, that I do not HATE you.

Maybe eventually… eventually you will realize the truth. I will NOT lie to you.

Wilhelm Heidern; Had we met, under different circumstances… maybe, if you had walked through that door that afternoon in 1977 instead of Rugal Bernstein, maybe things would have turned out differently. And I would have fought alongside YOU instead. But, that was not what happened. It was not in God's great plan, and we found ourselves here instead. Fighting.

"I promise you, Heidern. WE were not at fault." Mature sighed. "Your wife, and your daughter…"

1990, 11:58 PM, Johannesburg. Underground facility. Brahms secret laboratory

Eh?

It's so cold.

…

"yyyo…u a….re a blluy."

…

IMMEDIATELY, all the hairs on the back of Mature's neck stood at attention when a cold, frigid voice grasped her heart with sharp claws and slowly squeezed tightly.

The blonde haired woman dislodged her gaze from Heidern and looked to her right side. By this time, she had already realized that many TERRIBLE things existed in this world. Just as TERRIBLE as what she, and her people, had endured; It would be the height of arrogance for her to believe that she, alone, and she alone, had such great power borne from great SUFFERING.

This keen intellect and heightened cognisance, this was likely more a curse than a gift. That much Mature understood, and apprehensively grew to accept very well.

While Vice paid no heed to this maddening sensation as she continued to walk away, Mature could not deny the existence of IT.

…a small blonde haired boy stood leaned downwards next to her, in between Wilhelm Heidern and herself. A pale faced, poorly postured little boy, probably no older than 8 to 10 years old hunched over like a pre historic homo-erectus – but something was amiss, a thick fog seeped from the crevices on his face … This boy's features, deceptively beautiful at first glance revealed a sinister menace. When Mature's vision acclimated to the low light, the boy crept forward from the thick liquid like darkness, allowing her to see his horribly disfigured face.

Its elbows touched his knees, and his knuckles dragged on the ground when it lumbered careful steps forwards.

Under his deshelved tattered blonde hair, it's eyelids and lips were sewn SHUT tightly with bloody string. Strings pulled taut as the boy DESPERATELY tried to pull his eyes and mouth open, despite queues of its TREMENDOUS visual pain… just, just, just so it could revel in the slight and fleeting luxury - so this boy could speak to this woman, clearly. Clearly – SO – there would be NO MISUNDERSTANDING.

"Sotp bnuillyg my firend …!" it snarled. The ghoul VEHEMENTLY defied PAIN in order to speak out loud.

The BEAST – part 15.

Mature instinctively skipped backwards and her heels tapped in rapid succession to stay away.

"you srtong?"

The pain of the strings that once kept its mouth SHUT seemed so very irrelevant.

"Master Rugal, we have to go. We have to go NOW!" Mature shouted with great urgency, not taking her eyes off the ghoul for even a moment.

…

What does a PUPPET desire the most? Cynics might, and for good reason, insidiously think that a puppet longs for nothing more than to become the puppeteer. But in truth this conflicts with stories of wiser men have told in the past. Instead, a puppet's greatest dream is to attain self awareness, to make its own decisions and take control of it destiny. The simplest story.

The second Childrens.

(146) 1990. Johannesburg, South Africa. 11:5X PM.

"GUUUUWAAAGHHHHHH!" A booming guttural roar echoed through the long hallway, making the men wince and recoil, like nails on a chalkboard, from a carnal instinct that made their stomachs curl.

"NO. TIME!" Ralf shouted.

"Mr. Jones, wait for a moment!" Jung pleaded.

Ralf buckled the second horizontal metal clasp on his belt and LAUNCHED into a sprint.

"Hello..." A mechanical female voice said, from soft them slowly to loud, matching the boot up hum of the computer. "Main systems, turn on. Please standby…"

…

Chapter 155: WAR MACHINES.

There's no time… it's [happening].

CLARK GNASHED HIS TEETH, gritting HARD against each other.

"MR. CLARK!" Jung Kim pleaded. "Wait…"

…

"Master Rugal, we have to go. We have to go NOW!" Mature shouted with great urgency.

"Are you stgroner tahn her?" The Second Childrens asked, just as its bloodied lips curled to a slight smile at the end of its masochistically painful journey to give voice to a small and desperate wish.

IF YOU ARE NOT… THEN…

…

"Mr. Kim." Clark said with a smile. "Do you want to see, a gift from GOD?"

Very well…

…I will SHOW YOU.