Chapter Text
A Touch of Red
By evolution-500
Genres: Horror/Friendship/Romance
Feedback: Always welcome
WARNING: This story contains violence, coarse language, mature themes and disturbing imagery. Reader discretion is advised.
Disclaimer: KILLER INSTINCT is a property belonging to Rare and Microsoft while RESIDENT EVIL is a property belonging to Capcom. I do not own any of these characters.
*Jai Freedom - "Fight Night": Fight Night
**Song: T.J. Combo KI2 Theme Remix - Killer Instinct 2 TJ Combo Theme Exist EDM Remix - : / / . b e / KVjngjF-Kj0
Chapter Ten: T.J. Combo
"'Do not be startled, for no power of his,
However he may lord it over the damned,
may hinder your descent through this abyss.'"
Claire thumbed through the pages of the book as she lied back comfortably on her bed, her eyes scanning along the rest of the passage. "Interesting reading material, Baron."
As she lay on the mattress, comfortably tucked in underneath her blanket, the girl listened to the howling wind outside, shivering unconsciously as she drew the covers up more over her chest. Thank goodness she was inside and in bed - she'd hate to imagine walking around at night, especially around here.
Claire kept reading quietly, flipping through the pages. As her finger brushed on the next page, she heard a shrill high-pitched scream somewhere outside, causing her to jump up in alert.
What was that?!
Getting slowly up from her bed, the girl nervously walked toward the window, peering outward through the glass. For a brief moment, Claire caught a flicker of movement and heard the unmistakable rattling of chains. Under the moonlit sky, a tall, hunched-back figure of a woman with long bound arms was stiffly lumbering around in the dark in front of the mansion ruins, causing Claire to gasp and stumble backwards, startled as she dropped the book that she had been holding.
"What the?!"
Moving closer to the window, Claire stared through the glass, looking around for that figure.
The woman was gone. The night was completely still, the wind whistling hollowly.
She had seen that, right? She wasn't just imagining things, was she?
Claire kept scanning and listening intently, looking through the window at different angles.
Nothing.
Brushing her auburn bangs out from her eyes, Claire tiredly sighed. Great, her imagination was getting the better of her.
Looking down at the floor, the girl scooped up the red book, brushing it off her shirt.
"Well," she spoke quietly to no-one, "time to go to bed."
Twisting around, Claire went back to her mattress and settled down underneath the covers, reaching for the lamplight on the dresser table nearby.
She sensed a presence in the room. Opening her eyes tiredly, Claire looked to the foot of her bed and jerked from her pillow in alert, sitting straight up with an audibly loud and startled gasp as her eyes flashed wide open.
Standing there at the foot of the bed were both her parents, looking ghostly and dead, their eyes flat and rolled into the backs of their skulls. Claire just sat there, her eyes meeting theirs, her entire form freezing up, her heart beating so hard and fast in her chest that part of her wondered if she was having a heart attack. Goosebumps dotted her arms and her face became slick with sweat. Opening her mouth, her attempt to scream died out in a shaky, shuddering, breathy moan as she kept her eyes locked on the cadaverous figures.
What were they doing here?
Claire felt tempted to move, but part of her was terrified. She knew from watching horror movies that turning her eyes away would be a bad idea, for one of several instances were likely to happen as a result were she to do so - they would either disappear, at which point she would be left wondering if she was going crazy or if she was dreaming-
She paused.
Wait a minute...was she dreaming?
Closing her eyes, she shook her head, smiling in spite of herself.
Of course! Obviously her meal from last night was acting up in rather strange and inconvenient ways, influencing her dreams. Thanks to indigestion, she was now having a nightmare.
And yet...in spite of that knowledge, the sight of both her parents unnerved her just the same, especially considering the condition they were in.
She kept expecting them to say something, smile, anything at all...but they did nothing. They just stood there and stared at her with their flat eyes, looking at her expectantly. Finally, her father raised up a hand, gesturing for her to follow as he and Claire's mother headed toward the door.
"Wait! Don't go!" Claire cried out, watching as her parents phased straight through the door itself as if it were water. Getting up from her bed, she reached out. "Wait-"
She let out a shriek as the floor snapped beneath her, causing the girl to plummet and crash down to the ground. Groaning, Claire opened her eyes, then sat right up in alarm.
She was now outside underneath the pale light of the moon, sitting on the road, but the road itself was concealed beneath a thick veil of mist that lightly covered the ground itself, the moonlight granting it a sort of luminous and strangely iridescent quality that shifted from light blue to slight hues of green.
Getting up, Claire slowly took in her surroundings, her heart knocking and drumming heavily in her chest.
There were skeletons lying scattered all over the place.
Not just one or two, but hundreds, possibly even thousands! Perhaps even millions!
Taking a step forward, Claire heard and felt something crunch beneath her, forcing her to lower her eyes. Even the very ground she stood on was covered in layers upon layers of bones.
Shakily raising up her eyes, the girl peered through the mist and squinted, shaking as she was struck with cold fear.
The entire castle grounds had become a massive boneyard, with so many layers of skeletons that they extended far off into the horizon, farther than the eye could see, stretching into the mist and beyond, to infinity...at least, so it seemed to Claire.
'So many skeletons!' She thought in horror.
There were bones of all shapes and sizes, some of them not even human.
She spotted a cat's skull. A dog's leg bone sticking upward from a pile. Birds. Mice. Cows. Foxes.
There were even some enormous ones, what looked like whale bones along with those belonging to what seemed to be an impossibly large snake that must have been over forty feet long with a head the size of a Cadillac hood! There were even dinosaur bones among the pile, incredibly enough!
Shivering, Claire looked away from the snake's skeleton, disturbed by its oversized fangs and visage. Everything around her was nothing but a horrible mosaic of death and decay.
Raising up her eyes from the bone-covered floor, Claire found herself looking in the direction of the taped-off mansion, then froze at the sight of the horrible phantasmagoric image before her - though the frame and general outline was consistent, the entire building itself was not; the Palladian architecture and materials itself were now gruesomely replaced with bones and skulls. Even worse, parts of it were twitching, swelling and deflating, as if the whole foundation itself were breathing, as if it were alive!
Swallowing, Claire stared, transfixed by this strange vision when a shrill maniacal laugh echoed distantly somewhere. Somewhere behind her.
Turning to the direction of the laugh, Claire felt herself involuntarily drawn to the source, forced to follow its echo all the way down toward Sabrewulf Castle, even as it repeated, the sound growing louder.
The road was long and barren, eerily quiet.
For brief moments, Claire could have sworn that she detected figures flitting through the mist; she couldn't be sure if she had, but occasionally, she would hear the unmistakable sound of something rustling. Other times during the walk, she spared glances around her and was startled by a series of glowing silvery eyes that watched her every move before disappearing back into the shadows.
Must be a trick of the light.
Bones and skulls snapped and crunched beneath Claire's feet with every step she made, the girl shuddering at the sensation against her soles and between her toes.
Do not look down, Claire. Keep your eyes ahead.
Claire didn't know why she felt the irresistible urge to move forward, toward Sabrewulf Castle. She tried telling herself that she wanted to get help, but every step she took made her want to drop everything altogether; she no longer cared about the tournament or the prize money. Claire didn't even care if she became broke anymore or if people saw her as a mad woman - she just wanted to turn the other way and run screaming all the way back home!
That was what she wanted to do - she wanted to run! She wanted to scream! Scream like never before in her life!
Despite this feeling building up inside of her, despite her reluctance to press forward, the girl continued onward in her nightmarish trek, helplessly drawn toward Sabrewulf Castle as a fish would to a wriggling worm on the edge a hook.
The girl struggled against it, looking around with terrified eyes at every crooked and warped piece of bone and gaping skull that leered at her, at every indistinct shadow that seemed to taunt and torment her, mocking her. God help her, she was absolutely frightened!
If this is a dream, then please let it end! Let me wake up in my bed! Please God, I've had enough! I just wanted to-
An ominous yellowish green light shined ahead of the girl, catching her attention, the light itself hellishly mixing with the black shadows in such a way to render it all in an otherworldly manner. Turning her eyes ahead, Claire suddenly halted her footsteps as she arrived, and as she did so, the girl trembled and whimpered, her blue eyes so wide open in fear that they were bulging, her whole body shaking, his lips trembling, a scream bubbling its way up from her throat.
Where Sabrewulf Castle once stood, in its place was a monstrously enormous wolf snout that protruded straight up from the ground like an oversized mountain, barking, snarling and gnashing its oversized teeth and fangs at the moon while rivers of saliva spat in all directions, the sound thunderous and deafening. The snarling mouth snapped its jaws hungrily, biting and grasping at the moon, babbling incoherently in some strange language that Claire had trouble identifying, the voice a guttural snarl, the voice of a madman. It growled, roared and chanted the same words over and over, babbling incoherently a mad and insane rant.
"Iä! Iä! Cthulhu fhtagn! Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah-nagl fhtagn! Iä! Spinal! Iä! Spinal!"
Standing in front of the set of jaws, however, with his back facing the girl, his red headband bathed in the hellishly green and gold hues of this strange light, his octopus-bearded shield glaring with those same colored nightmarish eyes at her, was the distinctive form of Spinal.
As if sensing Claire's presence, the skeleton slowly turned to face her, its glowing red eyes blazing out from its horribly grinning skull. Cocking its jaw to the side, Spinal reared its head back and laughed mockingly into the night, the sound piercing the girl. In answer to his call, massive tentacles sprouted up from the ground, surrounding the snapping wolf jaws, while a group of silhouetted, shadowy titanic figures started to rise up in the dark, yellowish-green mist-covered horizon...
Claire gasped as she jerked up from her bed with a start. Flicking on the lamp, the girl looked wildly around with wide frightened eyes, her pupils dilated as she put a hand over her mouth, feeling the urge to wretch.
Moaning in discomfort, she hunched forward and put her arms around her stomach, wincing at the knot that she felt in the pit of her belly as she rocked herself back and forth, cradling herself in a kind of fetal position. Her face was damp with sweat while a scream was lodged in her throat along with vomit, nausea setting in as she swallowed both back with a gulp, making the girl wince at the taste, her eyes tearing up.
"Fucking chicken!" She croaked.
The girl kept rocking back and forth until her stomach settled. Once the pain was gone, she sighed, then looked around in both directions anxiously, waiting and listening. Outside, she heard the wind letting out a long wailing groan, eliciting a shiver from her. Leaning back against the headboard, Claire untensed the muscles in her body, shakily wiping off the sweat from her brow with the sleeve of her shirt.
"Fucking chicken," she sighed quietly to herself.
She should have known better than to overeat. She recalled a lecture from her psychology prof from college mentioning that nightmares would sometimes result from indigestion and lying on one's stomach. Putting a hand to her face, Claire shook her head, smiling in spite of herself.
Fucking chicken.
It was all a nightmare. Just a nightmare.
Comforted by that knowledge, Claire moved aside the covers and got up, heading to to the washroom. Flicking on the light, she then turned on the sink and lowered herself down, splashing her face with water, enjoying the coolness against her warm skin. Straightening herself up, she then wiped her face off with a towel before heading back to bed.
"God, that was horrible!" Claire said quietly aloud, settling back into bed before feeling something hard poke her in the hip. "Ow! What-" Grabbing the offending item, the girl narrowed her eyes at the red cover of 'Dante's Inferno'.
"I should have figured that this was the cause." she muttered wryly.
Note to self - never read a scary book after a bout of indigestion before bed.
Adjusting her position against the headboard, Claire sighed audibly. Reading this probably wasn't a good idea; in fact, in all likelihood, it was not only the likely cause of her nightmare, but it would probably inspire other nightmares like it. After that horrible dream, however, she really didn't feel like going back to sleep either.
Claire huffed, brushing an auburn bang aside. "Damned if I do, damned if I don't." she mused. Leaning back comfortably, she adjusted her pillows underneath her. "Well, Dante, time to get back at it."
Opening the book, she thumbed through the pages. Once she found the particular chapter that she was on, Claire continued on with her reading.
"'But the stars that marked our starting fall away.
We must go deeper into greater pain,
for it is not permitted that we stay."
Claire yawned as she waited outside Dr. Gupte's office along with the other fighters.
"You look tired," Billy commented beside her, his arms folded. "Didn't get any sleep, I take it?"
She nodded, rubbing her eyes exhaustedly. "Yeah, I had a weird dream last night."
He looked at her interestedly. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. I dreamt about Spinal."
He raised a brow. "Why Claire! I didn't realize you had a thing for dead guys!" Billy teased.
"Ew no!" She punched him in the arm, causing him to laugh. "Not that kind of dream!"
The Marine chuckled as he raised up his hands placatingly, "Hey, easy, doll-face! I was just kidding!" Claire rolled her eyes as Billy's feature smile lowered, the latter looking around at the room. "I have no idea why we have to keep getting check-ups around here."
Claire shrugged. "Apparently it's standard procedure around here."
"Don't you find that strange?"
She shrugged again. "A little," the girl admitted. "Then again, better safe than sorry, I guess."
Few of the other contenders, if any, were seen to be sick. One or two of them may have had an allergic reaction to the inoculations, but generally speaking, everyone seemed to be doing alright so far.
Billy clicked his tongue as he leaned against his seat with his arms folded, shrugging nonchalantly back. "Fair enough, I suppose." As the doctor's office opened, the two watched as Piers stepped out. "Hey, buddy! How did it go?"
The two fist-bumped. "Clean bill of health," Piers smiled jovially, showing off his perfect white teeth.
"Next patient. Mr. Garrett," Gupte called.
Claire watched as T.J. stood up and swaggered over, his sunglasses firmly placed over his eyes. As he did so, Piers' smile dropped.
"Mornin', kid," T.J. greeted Claire.
Claire smiled. "Morning, T.J.! I hear your fight's today, right?"
His smile grew. "Hell yeah it is!" He nodded. "Watch and learn, young blood - you might pick up a thing or two. You got lucky with that one punch against that amateur, but now today you get to see a champ in action!"
"Former champ," Piers corrected with a glare, causing T.J.'s smile to falter. "Then again, you never were one in the first place."
Claire watched as the boxer's face hardened as he turned to face him.
"Piers," Billy said cautiously.
"What did you say, junior?" T.J. retorted.
Piers got up from his seat and took a challenging step forward. "You heard me just fine."
The boxer's face darkened. "Say that again."
The soldier scoffed. "What, you're growing deaf now, old fart?"
As T.J. prepared to take a swing, Gupte stepped in between them. "Knock it off!" She snapped. "This isn't the time nor place. Mr. Garrett, come into my office." Her tone left no room for argument.
T.J. gave one last glare at Piers, then turned to face the doctor, nodding in compliance before following her inside.
As the door closed, Claire watched as Piers turned away, heading back to his seat.
"Prick," the latter muttered as he sat down beside Billy.
"Cool it, man," Billy said with his arms folded. "You'll fight him eventually."
Piers' mouth tightened. "Yeah, well, it isn't soon enough."
Claire looked at him curiously. "You hate him that much?"
She saw his hands tighten into fists, his eyes hard and intense.
"You have no idea." He then turned his eyes over to the door. "My older brother Pete was a heavyweight champion. He loved boxing, so much so that it was all he would ever think about. It was his passion." His mouth formed a disgusted line, his teeth and jaw clenched in anger. "But then...that fucker comes with his fancy implants, and shatters his face!"
Claire blanched. "Oh God!"
Piers nodded. "It wasn't pretty. Crushed Pete's nose. Broke several of his teeth. His right cheek bone. Part of the jaw...hell, he nearly damn well took the jawbone itself off with that punch of his. Pete could have died in the ring had it not been for medical intervention." Piers glared angrily toward the door. "Even worse, that fight put him into a coma." Piers' eyes glistened as he slowly shook his head. "Pete hasn't woken up since."
The girl's eyes softened. "...I'm so sorry. About your brother."
The soldier glanced over to her, giving a small smile. "Thank you." Looking ahead, he said nothing for a while, an air of melancholy falling over him.
"...Is that why you entered the tournament?" Claire asked.
Piers was still, not answering at first. Finally, he lowered his eyes to the floor.
"...My family's running out of funds," he answered. "Docs say that he's unlikely to recover...nor has he shown any sign of getting better. There's even talk of taking him off life support."
Claire gasped as she put a hand to her mouth. "God, it's that serious?!"
Piers gave a single nod in response.
She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "What will happen if you lose?"
The soldier glumly stared to the floor, his eyes lowered. "I can't afford to. Everything is riding on this. As much as I want to beat T.J. into the ground for what he did...I don't give a shit about him. I'm not in it for revenge, I'm in it for Pete."
"You love your brother."
Piers nodded. "I do. I would do anything for him. I looked up to him all my life, and even though I have three others, Pete had always been the most supportive. He-He'd always been there for me when I needed him most..."
Billy sighed as he patted his friend's shoulder, comforting him.
As Claire watched the soldier, her eyes lowered. "I'm also fighting for my brother as well," she admitted, drawing their attention. "He and his partner- ah, police partner...got into an accident, and now they're both in comas as well."
Piers scoffed, shaking his head. "I guess we should start a fan club. The 'Unconscious Brothers' Group' or something."
Claire giggled, nodding in agreement, "Yeah." She then looked at him intently. "Regardless of who wins...I wish you luck with the tournament. I hope your brother gets better."
Piers turned to face her, a slight smile on his face, "Thanks, Claire." He shifted in his seat. "I hope your brother gets better, too."
The door to Gupte's office opened, drawing Claire's attention away as T.J. stepped back into the hallway, rubbing his arm.
"Fuckin' needles," he muttered.
"Oh lighten up, Mr. Garrett!" Gupte tutted. "It's just a tiny shot."
The boxer shrugged. "Even if that's true, I still hate 'em."
She rolled her eyes. "Just sit out here for five minutes. If you feel any side effects during that time-"
"I know, I know," he waved annoyedly. "Come back and see you."
Claire watched as the stern-looking woman glared at T.J., clenching her fists angrily. For a moment, it seemed as if the doctor was going to say something, but then she paused and looked as if she were deliberating something, seeming to think better of whatever comment she was going to make. Finally, she spun around and stormed back into her office, shutting the door behind her. Hard.
"Miserable old Kraut," T.J. muttered as he took a seat near Claire.
"You seem to be in quite the mood," the latter noted.
"Like I said, kid, I hate needles. Always hated them, even back when I was eight years old."
"Does that mean you forfeit the tournament?" Billy smirked. "After all, needles are gonna be a regular thing around here."
T.J. smirked back. "Haw. You wish." He cracked his knuckles. "I'm a rollercoaster, kiddo - I always push forward, and when the Main Man steps into the ring, ain't nothin' stopping me."
Piers folded his arms. "We'll see about that."
Claire felt the air become tense as the two stared each other down.
"Ah, Guten Tag, everyone!"
Turning to the voice, Claire found herself looking at Baron Von Sabrewulf as he was wheeled in by Dieter, everyone murmuring in acknowledgment.
"Good morning, Baron," the girl greeted along with everyone else.
Gupte stepped out from her office as people gathered around. "Ah, Herr Baron. Perfect timing."
"I trust they have all received their inoculations and check-ups?" Sabrewulf queried.
"Just finished, actually. One or two patients seemed to have come down with a minor cold, but other than that, nothing too serious."
"You're sure?" He pressed.
Gupte glared at him. "I'm a hundred percent certain."
Sabrewulf grunted, then gave a nod. "Very well." Turning to the other fighters, he clasped his gloved hands together. "Right, well now that has been dealt with, let's make our way to the arena, then. Come on, everyone."
Claire stood at the sidelines along with the other fighters in the cathedral-turned-arena. Glancing around, she watched as the creepy film crew went about their tasks. One of them paused, then slowly turned in her direction, staring back, causing Claire to shudder.
He then pulled his mouth into an ugly, corpse-like grin, causing her to flinch and look away.
"You okay, Claire?" Billy asked concernedly beside her.
"Y-Yeah, sorry. These guys keep giving me the creeps," Claire said as shifted nervously.
She watched as Billy looked over at the guy that smiled. The man suddenly stuck his tongue out and slathered his lips with saliva, wriggling it around almost suggestively and obscenely at the Marine.
Billy responded in kind by giving the guy the finger. "Freak."
Everyone fell silent as the arena darkened. Claire felt the the musical cue for KI rumble through the church, drowning out every sound. Once more, the clanging anvil in the background accompanied the tune, the guitar building. Once more, Chris Sutherland growled out the show's title as the metallic font flashed on the holographic jumbotron overhead.
As she watched everything unfurl before her, Claire was suddenly struck by how...ritualistic...everything felt, for lack of a better term. Perhaps it was the fact that they were all inside a church that inspired such an impression, but the more she watched and listened, the more it seemed to cement itself in some odd, if not perverse way.
Claire shifted in discomfort as she recalled Sabrewulf's words from yesterday. There was something...surreal...about all of this; here they all were, gathered together in church, only instead of celebrating and basking in the light and life of Christ and all that he represented with hymns, they were standing solemnly in darkness, ready to inflict violence. Ready to spill blood. They stared up at the flickering metallic fonts of the KI and Ultratech logos with a collectively grim, anxious, awe-filled, anticipatory - and almost reverential - silence, looking up at the shimmering logos as if they were visiting angels or deities that they have all put their faith in.
Gods that have come to test them and collect their due.
As Sabrewulf's comments about blood and sacrifice echoed from the back of her mind, Claire shivered.
She couldn't help feeling slightly perturbed as feelings religious indignation and revulsion came over her. While she was not a practicing Christian, let alone a religious person herself, the girl did, however, find it all kind of...obscene. Blasphemous, even, if she were being truthful.
Part of her didn't know what to do. She supposed that the rational thing to do would be to protest, to feel and express some form of outrage, but...she couldn't. For reasons that were...completely unfathomable to her, Claire was transfixed by what she was seeing. Completely mesmerized, as if she were caught under a siren's spell. She felt compelled to stay and participate, even when part of her really, really started to feel anxious and uncomfortable with what was happening. She felt as if she were now part of something...bigger...than anything she had ever imagined. Something...greater. She felt like a tiny cog gazing upon the engine that it was a part of, that it was serving, watching as it rumbled and stirred into motion. The air was alive and electrical, so charged with potential that it almost felt as if anything was possible.
'Must be the euphoria of being able to participate,' Claire tried telling herself.
As the electric guitar of Robin Beanland echoed a lonely and dissonant tune, Claire stood and stared quietly up at the KI logo, watching as it loomed above all the fighters' heads, its font glowing, artificial and coldly metallic.
Seeing the logo above them, Claire couldn't help recalling the lines that the actor Peter Finch uttered in the movie "Network".
"'I have seen the face of God,'" she said softly.
Beside her, Billy clucked his tongue in thought, then gave a slow nod of acknowledgement, his eyes never leaving the logo. "You just might be right."
Once the song finished, the logo fading away, Claire felt the clutches on her mind and senses release as the announcers' voices echoed over the speakers, the sound rattling through her.
"WELCOME!"
A spotlight shone over the two announcers as they sat close to the arena behind a table.
"Goooood morning, Raccoon City!" One of the announcers spoke into the microphone. "I'm Lawrence Cooper."
"And I'm Henry Hull."
"Welcome to another Killer Instinct!" Cooper said enthusiastically. "Boy do we have an exciting show for you tonight! Let's do recap of the fight from yesterday. Where are we at, Henry?"
Claire watched as a holographic chart appeared with fighters names, with three of them crossed out in red.
"Yesterday was a very exciting opening show, Lawrence, with Raccoon City's very own Claire Redfield blasting her way through Alice Abernathy without even breaking a sweat!"
It then cut briefly to her punching her opponent, causing Claire to wince as she saw the replay and heard the noise.
"OOOH! THAT's gotta hurt!"
"Alice is definitely going to feel that in the morning! A very impressive debut for Ms. Redfield!"
Claire brushed a tendril of hair and looked away in embarrassment as T.J., Piers and Billy congratulated and nudged her.
The scene shifted. "Next up was Hisako as she devoured her way through the competition."
A pale girl in a red kimono quickly appeared on the screen, moving slowly at first at a snail's pace before suddenly scuttling along the ground on all fours like a spider toward the camera, unhinging her jaw impossibly wide, her long black hair flying in all directions as green energy flickered all around her.
"Jesus!" Billy flinched, startled.
"We're fighting that?!" Piers muttered, staring aghast.
"Of course not!" Claire assured. "Haven't you guys been listening? We're only fighting Sabrewulf."
T.J. frowned. "Where's the fun in that?"
"It is a bit disappointing," she admitted. "I've been hoping to see all the inhuman fighters myself up-close."
They all watched as the camera then shifted to footage of Hisako as she suddenly faded into her opponent - a massive metallic golem covered with vines and boulders. Claire watched as Hisako's opponent was twisted into all sorts of shapes, each limb snapping and cracking out of proportion.
"God damn!" T.J. cringed. "That is one scary-ass bitch!...I wonder if she's single?"
Claire and Billy turned as one to look at the boxer, raising their brows.
"What?" T.J. said defensively. "She's hot and limber!" He then looked back at the jumbotron, folding his arms together as he said softly as an aside, "I bet she's better-looking without the makeup."
Claire rolled her eyes, turning back to the hologram.
"And last but definitely not least, we have Lilith Urchin from Salem, Massachusetts, overtaking contestant Vanessa Z. Schneider as she shows us how girls get it done!"
She watched as a tiny, goth-looking girl with long black hair finished her opponent, a woman dressed entirely in white with orange sunglasses who looked uncannily like Jill, with a flying kick, the blow catching her in the chest.
Claire blinked, staring up at the screen. "...Jill?"
"You know her?" Billy asked.
"Uh, no, it's just...she looks a lot like my brother's partner," she said. "They could practically be twins."
Looking back to the jumbotron, they watched as the girl, Lilith, pummeled and curb-stomped her opponent, laughing maniacally.
Claire shivered. "Jesus, she's scary," she commented.
Piers scoffed. "Yeah. Scarier than that other one."
Finally, the screen reverted back to the announcers.
"Now that we finished our recap," Cooper spoke into the microphone, "it's time to move onto the main event!"
Claire rubbed her hands excitedly, grinning from ear to ear in glee, "Alright!"
"Before we begin, a word from our sponsors."
She frowned. "Goddamn it. I hate it when they do this!" Claire said in exasperation as they started to broadcast some boring infomercial from their sponsors, showing off the latest merchandise from Ultratech.
"Ultratech - Looking To The Past To Save The Future!" The advertisement concluded.
"And now for the main event."
She sighed. "Finally."
"WE ARE CONTROLLING TRANSMISSION."
"READY!" Chris Sutherland's voice growled as it was accompanied by the fighter's select music.
Claire braced herself as the jumbotron flickered.
"BLADE!"
The spotlight flashed onto a buff young man as he climbed into the ring, the speakers playing some generic butt-rock tune that made the girl roll her eyes.
"...You gotta be shitting me." She heard T.J. muttered beside her.
The fighter was above average in height, his stocky though buff frame completely dressed in hockey player regalia. Holding a hockey stick in gloved hand, his muscular chest was concealed in a red jersey, his muscular legs partially beneath his green shorts, his lower legs covered with thick goalie kneepads. Lifting up his hockey stick up into the air with one arm, "Blade" turned to face the camera with a challenging yell, his head and face concealed behind a hockey mask, his long, dirty blonde hair flowing out from beneath the helmet itself.
Claire arched a brow. "...Really?! He made it in?!"
Granted, she wasn't exactly a fashion model herself, but still, even she had standards.
"T.J. Combo!"
She watched as the boxer scowled as the spotlight fell on him, the echo of his name filling the church along with some generic hip-hop, the song making the boxer roll his eyes and groan in derision.
"Great," he muttered.
Claire shrugged. "Well, you gotta start somewhere, I guess." She then offered an assuring smile. "Good luck to you, T.J.!"
T.J. looked back at her, then nodded back with a smile. "Thanks." Turning back to the cage, he cracked his knuckles. "Better watch and take notes, kid - this is how a superstar rolls."
He then strutted toward the announcers, much to their bemusement as they looked at one another in confusion as he took a CD case from a pocket in his vest. Security guards stepped forward.
"Sir, step away from the announcers!" They warned, their tasers ready.
"Whoa, easy!" T.J. called as he raised up the CD case. "Just want to change the music!"
She watched as the announcers gave each other confused and incredulous looks before nodding and waving him over.
"Let him through," she heard Cooper say to a guard.
The guard then waved him over. "Alright, go ahead."
Claire watched as T.J. said something to the two of them, then handed over the CD and walked toward the arena.
"Just play the music."
The audio went off momentarily. Claire watched as the boxer rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck from side to side, stretching his body as Jai Freedom's "Fight Night" kicked on.*
"(If you think you're better now)
Turn it up, it's about to get worked out."
T.J. bounced on the soles of his feet as he practiced his jabs, his head nodding to the beat of the tune.
"(If you think you're rough enough)
Turn it up it's about to get worked out
(Turn it up it's about to get worked out)
It's fight night, woo! Ready to get your minds right.
Welcome to the prime time, make it to the bright light."
He kneeled and stretched, flexing his impressive muscles and six pack before throwing a series of quick jabs and uppercuts.
"It's fight night, educate your mind right
Welcome to the prime time, make it to the bright light."
Even with everyone booing at him, nothing deterred the former champ as he proceeded toward the arena with all the confidence, charisma and swagger that only T.J. Combo could bring.
"It's Saturday night at the MGM Grand
Prime time fight against the undisputed champ
Hear the fans clapping, the paparazzi flash
The best all around, pound for pound in any class
It's the main event so place your bets and drop your cash
Like the money team CMB I'm 'bout my cash
Goes in more productions, enormous endorsements
Money team management balling out of proportion
Yeah, posting up with the bumbaclot
Who the hell want with the champion
Come, come face your fears in the octagon
And end up with your head on my blooded palm."
Raising his hands high into the air, T.J. flashed a handsome smile, blowing kisses to the cameras.
"It's a fighter's life
Here it ain't no game
And we train up so hard
Live to fight another day
It's a fighter's life
It ain't no game
And we train up so hard
Live to fight another day, another day."
Seeing him on the hologram jumbotron, even Claire could see the larger-than-life, demigod-like presence that he projected, all without even saying so much as a word, his sculpted physique shining underneath the spotlight.
Some people, it seemed to Claire, were made for the spotlight, for television, and by God she was certain that T.J. Combo was one of those people.
As the music died down, she watched as he and the hockey player slowly approached one another like two gunslingers ready for a showdown. After the two exchanged words, she saw T.J. smirk and raised up his fists, looking ready to fight.
T.J. stared down his opponent, taking his appearance in, not at all impressed with what he was seeing.
"So," Blade spoke in an unimpressed tone, his voice possessing what seemed to be a Southern accent - Arkansas, if he were to a hazard guess, "you're T.J. Combo."
He shrugged, cracking his neck. "That's right."
Blade stared at him for a while, looking at him from top to bottom. "...I was expecting you to be taller."
The boxer grinned. "I'm pretty tall already."
The hockey player raised up his goalie stick, the stick resting on his shoulders.
"Tell me something," he said slowly, "...what kind of fag uses cybernetic implants for a boxing match?"
T.J. scoffed, cracking his knuckles. "In Texas, the way we can tell if someone is a fag is if they have a haircut like...yers."
He smirked as Blade stiffened, the hockey stick removed from his shoulders.
"It's gonna be a real pleasure wipin' that smirk off yer face," Blade said as he palmed the stick.
The former champ raised up his fists, waving him on. "Bring it!"
"READY!"
Claire watched as the two men stood their ground eying one another, the two bouncing on their heels. Just as Blade suddenly lunged forward, T.J. suddenly raised up a hand.
"WAIT!" Pausing midstep, Blade faltered, completely confused as the boxer suddenly moved to another part of the cage, moving toward the announcers. "Play Track Two."
The two announcers looked at one another, then shrugged, complying with his demand.
Over the speaker, she suddenly heard...the Hamster Dance?
"NO! TRACK TWO! TRACK TWO!" T.J. waved.
The audio cut out as almost all of the fighters laughed. Looking around, Claire stopped upon seeing Billy's reaction. The Marine was trying to restrain a snicker, while his friend Piers was just rolling his eyes.
Turning back to T.J., Claire arched a brow at him. The former champ gave a sheepish grin, giving a slight shrug before turning to face the announcers, clearing his throat.
"Track Two," T.J ordered. "You were on Track Five. Go back past the previous two songs."
"But-"
"Just play the damn music already!" Blade said in exasperation.
Claire watched as everyone waited.
Finally, she heard the tune play over the speakers, a mix of hip-hop and EDM. As the music played, she saw T.J. bobbing his head and tapping his boot to the beat, his back facing Blade.
"Yeeahhh!" T.J. said, smiling as he nodded appreciatingly, stretching. "Hear that? This is my jam!"
"(Just play the music!)" The speakers sang. "(Just play the music!)"
"SAY MY NAME, BABY!" T.J. twisted around, doing a superhero pose, flexing his muscles as Chris Sutherland's voice echoed through the church.
"T.J. COMBO!"
As the song picked up, Blade let out a roar of impatience and charged forward, attempting to shoulder-check him, the boxer shifting to one side, allowing his opponent to skid harmlessly past him.
"Hey!" The chorus sang as another solo singer followed it up with an understated "(Yeah!)"
"Hey! (Yeah!)"
"Hey! (Yeah!)"
"Hey! (Yeah!)"
"READY!"
Claire watched as they circled one another, turning clockwise, then counterclockwise, the two locked and focused in a violent and deadly dance of strength and wits, the two exchanging a combination of fists, feints and insults.
Suddenly, Blade lunged forward with a yell, swinging his hockey stick wildly around in the air as T.J. parried high and low blows with his forearms.
Watching T.J. in the ring, Claire was struck by how he moved. He was playful, and yet, with every step, twist on the heel and jab, it was all carefully measured and calculating. T.J. always maintained a certain measure of distance away from his opponent - when he struck, he was quick on his feet, hard-hitting and brutal, delivering three combinations to the face and chest whenever he was in reach.
"Hey! (Yeah!)"
"Hey! (Yeah!)"
Ducking down to avoid a horizontal swing just in the nick of time, Claire let out a startled yelp as the stick whizzed past his hair.
Whoever this 'Blade' guy was, he was dangerous - T.J. was lucky that stick didn't take his head off!
"Hey! (Yeah!)"
Doing a backward roll to avoid a coming vertical blow that slammed hard down onto the floor, T.J. sprung back up to his feet and delivered a deadly combination, striking his opponent's head, chest and gut.
"Hey!"
Stumbling back, Blade let out an enraged yelled, charging forward, raising the stick high over his head when T.J. did a frontal roll toward the hockey player, throwing out a fist that connected with the man's groin.
"(Just play the music!)" The singer yelled over the speaker.
POW!
"Feel the power, baby!" The chorus sang in harmony with the blow.
"(And you don't stop. And you don't drop.)"
Claire heard every man in the room groan at the sound, every single one flinching. Even Billy and Piers were wincing. She watched as Blade's eyes widened like saucers, the stick dropping from his hands as he made a high-pitched squeal like an animal, his gloved hands holding onto his undoubtedly very sore family jewels.
"Feel the power, baby!
(Yeah, yeah!)"
T.J. followed the blow with a series of combinations, an unrelenting flurry of jabs that tore into his opponent, the music in sync with his movements.
"Feel the power, baby!
(And you don't stop. And you don't drop.)
Feel the power, baby!
(Yeah, yeah, yeah!)"
"Yeah, eat it!" T.J. yelled as he threw a hard left hook, the punch knocking Blade off his feet. As the latter struggled to get up to his feet, the former hung back as the chorus chanted the next verse, bobbing his head to the tune.
"C to the O to the M-B-O!
C to the O to the M-B-O!
C to the O to the M-B-O!
C to the O to the M-B-O!"
"That's right, baby! Say my name!"
Wiping his mouth, Blade let out an enraged and animalistic roar, his stick high over head.
T.J. just dodged and played with his opponent, circling around, all the way nodding to the tune.
"Hey! (Yeah!)
Hey! (Yeah!)
Hey! (Yeah!)"
"I...am not gonna lose!" Blade screamed in frustration. "Not to you of all people!"
"Hey! (Just play the music!)"
Blade repeatedly struck at T.J. until the latter lashed out with a jumping knee strike, the boxer yelling, "C-C-C-C-C-OMBO BREAKER!"
"Feel the power, baby!"
Following that cry, Claire watched as the boxer unleashed everything into his opponent. T.J.'s fists were swing hard and fast, moving with such speed and ferocity that it caught the girl off-guard as she watched. After delivering a lethal combination of high and mid strikes, he followed it up with a spinning backfist and a punch to the stomach, causing Blade to double over and spew, the force knocking the wind out of him along with his breakfast.
"(Yeah, yeah!)"
Claire cringed as she heard the mask crack beneath T.J.'s repeated blows, the boxer not letting up. Blade was stumbling and trying to retain his balance, trying to raised up his arms in order to defend himself, but the boxer was too fast and strong to avoid, a one-man wrecking ball of pure frenzy and fury.
"Feel the power, baby!
(And you don't stop. And you don't drop.)"
Pieces of Blade's mask were breaking off to the ground, while blood sprayed and flew up into the air along with bits of what looked like human teeth.
"Feel the power, baby!
(Yeah, yeah, yeah!)"
As the music started to quicken in its pace, the quicker T.J.'s blows became, until finally the boxer pulled away, rearing himself back slight as he dramatically spun his arm backward like a windmill.
"And now for the encore!" T.J. said cockily, his arm gaining momentum with each swing, producing an audible whiffing noise, reminding Claire of a propeller on a plane that was about to take off.
A few seconds later, the boxer slammed his fist into Blade's face, catching him by the chin, completely demolishing the mask as the fighter was lifted several feet up into the air before slamming back down to the floor with a thud. As the hockey player stared up from the ground, he coughed, spitting up blood and teeth, his nose completely broken and bleeding profusely, his face black and blue, horrifically swollen.
Cracking his knuckles, T.J. scoffed. "C to the O to the M-B-O, motherfucker!"
"WINNER!" Chris Sutherland roared.
Standing straight up for the camera, T.J. flexed his muscles, shouting "THINK ABOUT IT!" before turning his head to kiss his own biceps as the music cut itself off.
On the holographic display, Claire watched as it flickered with his image.
"AWESOME VICTORY!" Chris Sutherland snarled from the speakers, the metallic voice causing her to shiver.
As Claire watched medical personnel gather inside to collect the broken man lying on the floor, a lump formed in the pit of her stomach.
Perhaps joining the tournament was a not so good idea after all...
Author's Note: So, for those of you wondering, there are a couple cameos featured here of some rejected characters, one being Vanessa Z. Schneider from the old Capcom game called "P.N.03". Originally it was going to feature a certain rejected "SF2" fighter...but I have a better idea for his placement. You'll have to wait and see where he turns up. In terms of who he is, you might know thanks to Matt McMuscles and Two Best Friends. ;)
The character of Lilith was the protagonist for a cancelled Rare game called "Project Urchin", which was going to play with some pretty dark concepts and themes, while the hockey player Blade was from the first KI game who had been completely modeled but dropped from the final game in favor of Sabrewulf due to their similar body sizes and poses. Since I couldn't really find some appropriate matchups for certain characters, I kind of figured why not toss these guys a bone and see what happens. I hope you like what comes next. :)
Take care, everyone! Stay safe and healthy! :)