Received: from PACIFIC-CARRIER-ANNEX.MIT.EDU by po10.MIT.EDU (5.61/4.7) id AA05925; Sat, 17 Feb 96 21:54:28 EST Received: from emout08.mx.aol.com by MIT.EDU with SMTP id AA29256; Sat, 17 Feb 96 21:54:13 EST Received: by emout08.mail.aol.com (8.6.12/8.6.12) id VAA18354 for jevans@mit.edu; Sat, 17 Feb 1996 21:54:42 -0500 Date: Sat, 17 Feb 1996 21:54:42 -0500 From: Vctr113062@aol.com Message-Id: <960217215441_146995972@emout08.mail.aol.com> To: jevans@MIT.EDU Subject: Winter 13/16 ***************************************************************** I don't remember being dead. There was no sense of the passage of time. One moment a bed of spikes pierced my heart liver, and kidneys; the next, I tried to sit upright on a stone bench and received a splitting headache for the effort. All I could see was a wash of red spots, and my sense of balance felt like I was at sea during a typhoon. *You are alive,* rumbled Scorpion's echoing, hate-filled voice. *Good. Your life is mine to take, and mine alone!* "Normally, I don't do requests, but this is a special case." Shang Tsung's sneer came from maddeningly nearby. "His abhorrence of you is absolutely delectable. It's too bad you don't share the same loathing for him." This was the closest I'd been to the necromancer since arriving on his desecrated island. The pulsing vibrations of his unclean aura were directly in front of me. Ignoring the protests of my spinning head, I rolled off the bench and lurched to my feet. My legs promptly caved in beneath me. I collapsed in a disorganized heap "You and Scorpion will do battle in three hours, after Goro crushes that gadfly monk who killed you," Shang Tsung continued, a little too gleefully. "That should give you more than enough time to recover from the stress of being resurrected." He left, his fine silk robes making a faint whisper as they glided across the floor. I did not hear any footsteps. Moving carefully, I latched ahold of the stone bench with both hands, and pulled myself into a sitting position. I realized with a start that my right hand was fully healed, as functional as it had been before Orchid nearly slashed it in half. The teeth I'd lost were back in my mouth, undamaged. Even my uniform was restored; there remained no trace of the holes that had been torn in it, or the blood that had stained it. My vision was clearing by degrees, enough to perceive Scorpion's empty eyes glaring down at me. *When next we meet, you will DIE!* A light, breezy aspect of his Power engulfed him. His physical form disappeared, yet the smothering press of his malevolence remained, disrupting my attempt to concentrate on a plan of action. ***************************************************************** I recklessly turned the Power on myself, coating my neck with the slickest sheen of Ice I could create. At the same time I swung both legs forward, using my own momentum combined with the frictionless Ice to slide free of my captor's grip. He had been holding me with only one hand, after all. Limbo's dry, desert air never tasted so sweet. The apparition next to me cast his unearthly tethered spear. Rolling to the side, I avoided it by centimeters. It buried itself in Limbo's sand, subsequently dissolving into the Power that composed it and being reabsorbed into the specter's aura. My respiration came in staggered gasps, and red spots darted in front of my eyes. I needed time to recover, and I'd just realized how to buy it. "Your disguise is useless, Shang Tsung!" I shouted, between intervals of panting. "I know who you are!" *What!?* The specter's stark outline became unfocused. His deep ochre-and-black mockery of a Lin Kuei uniform changed texture and composition; its colors rearranged themselves into a different outfit, with tight black pants, leather skullcap, and divided canary-yellow vest. The humanoid within the clothes became more compact and wiry. His mask dissolved, showing a long face with a dark, thin mustache and pointed goatee beard. Only the eyes remained the same, two blank windows into an empty white void. He was most definitely Shang Tsung, though younger, more vigorous, and a decimeter shorter than I remembered. He must have elevated his height through levitation before, letting his overly long robes hide his true stature. Raiden had warned me that the necromancer might track me down, yet I had not dared to hope that finding him would be so easy. Killing him, however, would not be so simple. His filthy aura thrummed with freely coursing Power. Before, he'd only been able to harness a small portion of it for his own needs, yet now the barriers had been lifted. His raw potency far exceeded anything human, approaching the status of a greater devil. The question was, if he had so much Power at his disposal, then why wasn't he using it? Assuming Scorpion's guise was a card trick compared to what he was capable of doing. "How did you know?" Shang Tsung shrilled. "How could you know!? I've perfected the art of shape-shifting! There could be no distinctions!" "You can match Scorpion's appearance and voice, even his Power, but you don't have his honor. His code required him to face his enemies in battle before killing them. And neither he nor your shape-shifting pet ever wanted my soul." To stall a little longer, I asked "Why did you go to the trouble of seeking me out, necromancer?" "Don't play innocent. I know you had a hand in my 'accident.' Reptile told me all about it, strapped to my rack. The Kahn won't let me KILL Liu Kang, so for the time being I'll have to console myself with your tarnished soul!" He extended his arms, pointing one hand to the heavens and the other hand to the earth. A tsunami of Fire surrounding the screaming skulls of tortured souls poured forth. The time for talk was ended. ***************************************************************** Sonya Blade gazed through a curtained window of Shang Tsung's palace. Her hair, brown with streaks of flaxen, spilled over her shoulders and drooped over one of her sapphire eyes. Her bangs had long since worked loose of the raven headband that once held them back. She leaned upon the window ledge, her folded arms resting on the sill. Rays from the dying sun reflected off the metal bracelets around her wrists, and combined with shadows from the curtains to silhouette the curves of her trim figure. Neither expression nor emotion affected her refined features. I hadn't noticed before, but she was not without her own manner of beauty. "Take one step closer and you're dogmeat," she warned, without removing her eyes from the sunset. Her voice was hoarse, deadened from endless hours of battle cries. "I mean you no harm." "I'll be the judge of that." Brushing her bangs away from her forehead, she turned and glanced at me. "I saw you kill Raiden. You're an assassin, the one they call Sub-Zero." "That is correct." "What do you want?" "To help you free your subordinates." "Why?" "Do not concern yourself with that." Her thin eyebrows descended, two taut, critical lines overlooking her stern face. "Shang Tsung keeps Sparky and Catsclaw chained in Goro's lair. I don't know where Shang Tsung stores the keys to their shackles. Goro has promised to rip them limb from limb at the slightest provocation. Seven armed guards watch them at all times. That bastard magician has promised me that he'll 'free' them if I defeat him in one-on-one combat. Every instinct I've got says that he's lying. The only thing he intends to 'free' them from is their lives. You use the same words he did, assassin. How do I know you're not one of his servants?" I've killed people over lesser insults, but this was neither the time nor the place. A flicker of supernatural essence seized my attention. I'd been certain that no one was watching us a moment ago, yet traces of a third presence left slight eddies in the open air. There was a faint whiff of an odor like concentrated vinegar. "I asked you a question, mister," Sonya barked; I held up a hand to stay her. Scanning the area, I detected the slightest irregularity against the haze of blood-sacrifice Power lingering in Shang Tsung's unholy castle. I wouldn't have been able to distinguish it from the background ambience if I hadn't encountered it before, reflected upon the necromancer's own veil of death and destruction. "Someone else is here," I cautioned. The atmosphere in front of us rippled like concentric circles spreading from where a stone is dropped into water. A living creature stepped out of the distortion. It, too, was swathed in a Lin Kuei ceremonial uniform; the color highlights were brilliant emerald, similar to but a shade brighter than Toxin's verdant garments. That would imply a Power over Acid, if he were a Lin Kuei. He was not. He wasn't even human. Though his arms and hands seemed ordinary enough, his face was that of an iguana, with green scales and a protruding snout. His eyes were crimson, with vertically slit pupils. In addition to scaled upper and lower eyelids, he had a third inner eyelid, a sheet of membranous white. It flicked sideways, from his eyes' inner corners to the outer, and back again. The vinegar scent of his breath was stronger, now that he was no longer using his Power to conceal his presence. "Reptile comesss in peassce," hissed the creature. "If you want to see one of Shang Tsung's servants, look no further," I observed. "It isss true," Reptile assented. "I have taken an oath to honor, protect, and obey the sssorsscerer unto death. That wasss before I learned of hisss plansss to enssslave the Rasssce." "The Race? You mean, lizards like you?" Reptile's immediate response to my query was the mix of a viper's hiss and a housecat's angry croon. With conscious effort, he controlled his hissing and changed it into words. "SsssSSS! 'Sssauriansss.' Thy tongue isss a meter too ssshort to call usss what we call ourssselvesss, but if thou mussst label mine brethren with thy petty classsificassshtionsss, call usss 'sssauriansss.' 'Lissszardsss' are unintelligent, sssplay-legged beassstsss, more dissstant from usss than thou art from apesss!" "You were saying something about an oath?" Sonya prompted. "Yesss. Dessspite mine regretsss, a vow sssworn cannot be unsssworn. Ssstill, it would pleassse me to know that one of the sssorsscerer'sss ambissshtionsss, no matter how inconsssequenssshtial, hasss been foiled. I offer thee mine aid." Sonya nodded. Incredulous, I turned to her and said, "You cannot be serious. The thing has admitted that it is Shang Tsung's vassal!" "And you've admitted to being a hired killer. At least Reptile's told me why he wants to help, which is more than I can say about you," she rebuffed. Her naivete was baffling. Were a few smooth words and a scaly hide all it took to win her trust? "You have convinced me of nothing," I cautioned Reptile. "If you wish to demonstrate your good intentions, you may start by telling me what in all damnation Shang Tsung is amassing his cesspool of blood-sacrifice Power for." "Dossst thou not know? Thou wert presssent when I exsssplained the sssorssscerer'sss massschinassshtionsss to Liu Kang. Of courssse, thou wert rather dead at the time," Reptile remarked, baring overlapping rows of sharp, interlocking canines in a hideous parody of a human smile. The smallest of his teeth were as long as the last two joints of my index finger. His grimace felt more like a threat than an expression of mirth. "Ssshang Tsssung plotsss to open a ssstable gateway between our world and the Outworld, a nether realm ruled by the dessspot Ssshao Kahn. Onsssce that isss accomplissshed, the Kahn'sss legionsss will conquer the Earth, ssstripping it dry of life. Creating the gateway requiresss tremendousss power, and many enssslaved sssoulsss of the highessst caliber. The sssorssscerer hasss usssed thisss Tournament to amasss the nessscesssary life forsssce for five hundred yearsss. Ssshould Goro dessstroy Liu Kang, Ssshang Tsssung will have all he needsss to complete hisss vortexsss. Thou had bessst pray that Liu Kang doesss not fail." "I never pray." Liu Kang was a superb fighter, but Goro's sheer strength was unearthly. Rather than pin reckless hopes on the young Samaritan, I had a better plan: kill Shang Tsung, and his plots would die with him. He wasn't just the epicenter of the necromantic web; he was its keystone. Once he was gone, the nightmare tied into him would fragment and fold in on itself. I was not about to speak that thought aloud to Shang Tsung's sworn protector, though. "Be warned, asssasssin. I sssaw thee obssserving the captivesss. At timesss thou hassst been aware of mine presssensssce; more often, thou hassst not." I returned his glass-eyed stare until he blinked, his third eyelid covering and uncovering his feline orbs. "Enough fairy tales," Sonya cut in, curtly. "How do the two of you intend to help my men?" Fixing his cat's eyes on her, Reptile answered, "There are pathsss mine brethren can take to where thy men are held prisssoner. The Rasssce can essscort them to sssafety, and tend their injuriesss until they are ready to return to thy ssscivilissszassshtion. The bessst opportunity to ssstrike will be one hour from now, while Goro isss preoccupied with hisss duel againssst Liu Kang. I ssshall sssupply sssome asssissstansssce in sssubduing the guardsss." It took him a full eight seconds to hiss his way through the last sentence. "What about the chains?" "The keysss to their locksss were dessstroyed long ago. Ssshang Tsssung opensss and closssesss the latchesss by meansss of hisss sssorssscery. I do not know the pressscissse ssspell. Mine brethren mussst ussse their venom to russst through the anchorsss." "How long would that take?" "Posssibly half an hour." "Not good enough." "Or they could amputate the captive'sss handsss and feet." "_Definitely_ not good enough!" "Leave the chains to me," I interjected. "I will unlock them." Sonya's sapphire eyes narrowed. "So you say." "I give you my word." "You still haven't said why you want to help." "Nor shall I." ***************************************************************** Shang Tsung's fiery wave carved a triangular swath of destruction, from a point at the tip of his hands that rapidly widened the further it progressed. It flooded the earth from ground level to three times my height, and when it reached me it stretched for meters to my right and left. I withdrew in a series of back handsprings. My retreat was not fast enough. The jaws of Hell returned to claim their own. I drowned in a sea of horror. My entire being was awash with blazing fiery torment. The afflicted outcries of a hundred thousand slain victims howled in my mind. Automatically, I called to the Power, but the Ice vaporized instantly amid the sorcerer's overwhelming holocaust. Old blister-scars from the day of my Test erupted in a shower of boiling blood. I saw the flesh melt from my arms before my eyes melted as well. The agony did not lessen. Its endless searing kiss continued long after I had skin to feel it... "That is for conspiring behind my back!" Shang Tsung's heel slammed into my stomach and snapped me out of the nightmare. His ocean of hellfire had been a psychic attack. Though not physically burned, I was stunned, shaking, and spent from the Power I'd wasted. My arms and face tingled with the memory of torture past. Shang Tsung stamped again, fracturing the end of my sternum and adding a little more present suffering into the mix. "And _that_ is for abetting my victims' escape!" The bastard was toying with me. My newfound ability to hate flared, shutting down the pain, blotting out apprehension, overriding all desires save the need to kill this odious filth that walked like man. I wrapped one arm around his thigh and drove the edge of my hand into his knee. Instead the expected of his breaking joint, I heard the of air as my strike passed harmlessly through him. Confused, I sent a burst of the Power into his body; the Ice sailed through his form and into the gulf beyond. I'd thought that his prior intangibility was a Power he'd borrowed from Scorpion. I was wrong. "Surprise!" Shang Tsung shouted, his face contorted in a repellent expression of glee. "It _doesn't_ work!" His elbow collided with the side of my neck; whiplash turned my head around, and suddenly Limbo's dusty soil itched in my eyes. The dull throbbing in my temple told me that I'd hit the ground hard. "You can't harm this astral projection of me, but I can enjoy my revenge on you!" He threw his head back and laughed; the wind's hot breath resounded with echoes of his mania. While he was distracted, I rolled away. Pushing myself into a standing position, I called the Power once more; yet what could I do with it? It had no effect on him. "Now, where was I?" mused the mad sorcerer. I threw the Power to the ground in front of him, creating a barricade of Ice in an attempt to buy more time. "Ah, yes. Absolute INCINERATION!" His gushing sea of hellfire immolated the barrier and me. Agony returned, worse than before. Much worse. I weakly resisted the impulse to squander more Ice fighting against his psychic assault. There are ways for a warrior to deny pain, and ways to struggle against it. In a lifetime filled with brutality I have learned that it is better to let the hurt be. Acknowledge its presence, heed its warning of imminent bodily damage, but do not let it interfere with what must be done. Masters of this discipline can endure being slowly skinned alive without a change in their composure. I am merely a student. "Are you going to stay down this time?" Shang Tsung's sneer broke through the shock that had taken hold of my mind. Crawling to my knees was an ordeal. Standing up was a challenge. "No? Oh, this _is_ going to be fun!" I was in no shape to withstand a third hellfire blast. The sensory overload would render me helpless, and once I had finished writhing for Shang Tsung's amusement he would claim my soul. He was rubbing his hands a mere two meters away, yet there was nothing I could do. The Power couldn't touch him. But he could touch me! I had an idea that was one-tenth inspiration, nine-tenths desperation. Once more, I called the Power, yet instead of projecting it I deliberately kept its chilling essence locked within. My plan depended on applying it in a uniquely subtle way. That, and staying alive for the next few moments. "Still clinging to your precious ice?" Shang Tsung snubbed. "When are you going to learn how useless your pitiful conjurings are compared to mine?" He stretched forth his arms. As he threw wide the floodgates of his hellfire, I vaulted up and over the conflagration, landing behind him. "Where do you think you're going!?" He turned and shot a quicker, narrower jet of hellfire from one hand. I dodged around him, further than he could twist. At a distance, I was defenseless against his widening blasts, but at close range they were narrow enough for me to avoid. "Stop moving around so much!" He turned his spin into a whirling kick; I easily eluded his short legs. All the time I was concentrating on gathering more Power, making it course through my veins and underneath my skin. Shang Tsung's pupilless eyes flashed. "Stand still!" he demanded, swinging at my head. I ducked. Though the sorcerer had a young man's body, he was not fully re-accustomed to it. His physical attacks were a hair too slow and clumsy, and the set of his shoulders gave away his intent before he acted. For too many years, he'd depended on Goro to fight his battles for him. "_Stop squirming_!" I flipped to the side, executing a cartwheel without touching my hands to earth. This wave came closer than the rest, but not quite close enough. The screams of tortured souls drowned out Shang Tsung's curses. He lunged forward with a punch; when I sidestepped, his face contorted and he shouted something in an obscure Cantonese dialect. I recognized the word for "offal." Outside, I'd goaded the sorcerer into a frustrated rage. Inside, I'd built up as concentrated a field of the Power as possible, given the circumstances. There could not be a better time. I stumbled, skidding on one knee. "Finally!" cackled the sorcerer, wrapping his clawlike fingers around my neck. "Your soul is MI-" An unexpected force arrested his voice. The Power coursing through me had lowered the temperature of my skin well below freezing, past the threshold where common flesh withers and dies. Once contact was made, the essence of Ice sucked the warmth from his limb and yearned for more, absorbing his tepid vitality through his arm. Shang Tsung wrenched his hand away. His teeth chattered. He staggered. His entire body shivered uncontrollably. If not for his vast supply of Power, he would have been completely paralyzed. A shuddering gasp escaped his lips. "Ss-sso c-c-c-cold..." Holding the Power within for so long had strained me above and beyond the stress of battle. Now that it had served its purpose, I let it return to whence it came, simultaneously making a tiger claw strike to the sorcerer's larynx. This time, my hand contacted soft skin instead of empty air. Shang Tsung's jugular crumpled underneath the impact, as did his trachea. I'd crushed his throat in a single blow. That should have killed him. Somehow, he continued to breathe despite the wreck I'd made of his windpipe. When I tried again, he awkwardly brought his crossed wrists against mine, partially deflecting the attempt with an X-block. Though I'd broken the spell that had made him intangible, the bountiful wellspring of Power within him was repairing the damage almost as quickly as I'd inflicted it. What would it take to kill him? Would he die if I tore off his head? "I know what you're thinking!" he shrieked hysterically, unleashing another hellfire wave. I sprinted at a right angle to its flow, narrowly evading its embrace. The necromancer started to back away. I maintained the distance between us with caution. Shang Tsung snarled, "You're not going to lay another finger on me. I watched you in the Tournament, and I remember who defeated you!" His Power shimmered. His clothing changed pattern; his skin darkened to a more burnished hue; and he grew. When the warping effects of his sorcery faded, Liu Kang's likeness stood before me. "You're MINE now!" he crowed in the young warrior's high-pitched voice.