12-13-2009, 09:27 AM
“Have another!” Josh said merrily, pulling another green longneck bottle from the carton. He placed the tip of the cap against the corner of a very expensive table, and simultaneously slammed his palm on the cap and jerked the bottle away, effectively popping the top…and scratching the furniture. The chairman shoved the bottle at Audric, who reluctantly accepted it with a forced smile on his face.
“WOOOOO! YEAH!” Drake cheered at the screen, clapping his hands enthusiastically. “This is great stuff? Look at them go at it!”
Damon nodded. It was about that time. Doing so would mean he’d miss some of the action, but his gamble would simply have to take that risk. He got up from his chair, signaling the beginning of the final move. Audric glanced up at him and desperately mouthed, ‘Don’t leave me alone with him!’ Damon merely smiled and politely excused himself, despite Josh’s protests that he was going to miss out on the grand finale that he’d elaborately constructed. Dukes left anyway. He walked through the empty corridors, unfettered by the pairs of guards stationed at every corner. You’d think it was a military facility.
Before long, the host found himself within the chamber that housed the players’ capsules. He nodded towards a lead medic and slowly began to unbutton his thousand-zeni shirt. No words exchanged between employer and employees as the department head willingly stepped inside a capsule of his own, staring straight ahead as the team carefully hooked him up to the machine. To someone uninformed of the situation, it almost looked as if a man had willingly gone to face his own execution, lying still instead of fighting back as tubes and wires and electrodes stuck in and around his body. An oxygen mask fitted over his face, and he flinched as twin needles drilled into his temple. The sound of his own steady breathing steaming against the molded plastic thrummed in his ears. Damon Dukes felt himself be enveloped in one of those moments where one could not help but ask themselves, ‘How did I get here? How did this happen to me? How did I become this person?’ He could vividly see his own childhood: a boy of innocence from a family that ebbed and flowed of happiness, but not of money. He had worked hard to become a man of power, of influence, and of affluence. The host had gotten exactly what he wanted, although perhaps never in a way a child could have imagined, as Damon had become the monsters he’d so willingly surrounded himself with…and he was good at it.
The medic looked at him, and Damon closed his eyes and nodded. A cool sensation washed over him as he felt consciousness slowly elude him. Audric had asked him why he would do it, why he would risk going inside the machine for a sinking ship. As the last threads of his awakened state left him, the ever-vigilant chess master remembered his reply:
Sometimes, in order to win, the king must be put into play.
-----
Hollywood and the others watched carefully as the battle before them unfolded. Then a hand went up to his ear, or more specifically, to the device in his ear. He gave the rest of his fellow Eliminators a meaningful look, and they all expressed their comprehension of the silent signal. He faced towards Alex and Sophia, taking a deep breath before jumping in between them and spreading his arms out wide.
“Time out,” the stuntman grinned cockily.
Alex refused to listen. “No time out. I’m going to finish this.”
Suddenly, he felt a massive pair of arms completely encircle his body from behind, lifting him off the ground. The great namekian Caracol imprisoned him within a fierce reverse bear hug that cut off not only the street entertainer’s circulation but also his ability to draw breath. The frail psychokinetic struggled against the hold, but could not break it. Hollywood glanced at Sophia.
“Do I need to restrain you?” he asked suggestively.
The priestess shook her head, swallowing hard as she fought the rush of adrenaline that surged within. Vale Dura and Pierre interceded on behalf of Ashe and Sage, yielding the same results of halting the battle.
“We’re doing exactly what you want. What’s going on now?” Ashe demanded, warily eyeing the Eliminators ringing them.
“This part is over,” Hollywood shrugged. “We needed to know you could fight, no matter who it was. Would you three come with us, please?”
Hollywood gestured, but it was not yet certain to whom he referred. Caracol began to walk away, Trafford still tightly ensconced in his grip. Ashe, Sophia, and Sage also stepped forward, a pit of fear building in their stomachs…fear of failure, fear of death. Kristanna grabbed Ashe tightly by the shoulder, and the cautious eyes of Sage and Sophia did not miss this action.
“W-what are you going to do?” Sage demanded.
“That’s none of your business,” Kristanna answered as softly as possible.
“This isn’t right!” Sophia chided, her fists balling up tightly.
Trafford, of course, didn’t care as to the fate of his three opponents, but the two girls, despite not knowing completely what would happen to their friend, were far more reluctant to let anything divide them…even though they had been trying to kill each other mere moments ago.
“Just go, guys. I’ll be alright,” Ashe assured, although her smile was tightlipped, her voice wavering.
“Ashe,” Sage said, her bottom lip quivering.
“Come on, Sage,” Sophia ushered, going over to the girl and putting a comforting hand on her arm as she pulled her away. The priestess glanced over at Ashe, and then forcibly moved herself and the doctor to follow the rest of the Eliminators.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Ashe looked down and asked, “This is the end of the line for me, isn’t it?”
Kristanna waited a moment before answering, “Yeah, it is. For what it’s worth, I am sorry.”
“You remember what I said, right? About my parents?” Ashe reminded.
“I remember,” the android agreed.
“By the way, I don’t even think I know your name,” the student chuckled nervously.
“It’s Kristanna. You should know me very well,” the undercover officer replied cordially. The sound of a gun being slid from its holster filled the silence. “Turn around, please. I’m not going to do this to your back.”
Ashe complied, standing perfectly still. Some part of her urged her to run, to flee, survive, but she knew it would be pointless. She stared Kristanna directly in the eyes as the android leveled the XRS modular between her eyes.
“It’s okay,” Ashe said. “I know this isn’t real.”
Kristanna searched the girl’s eyes. “What if you’re wrong?”
Ashe beamed confidently. “What if I’m not?”
Kristanna smiled and chortled, a thing of incomprehensible emotion.
Sage, farther off but still close enough to see the two figures standing in the middle of the empty street, happened to look over her shoulder just as Kristanna pulled the trigger, and a shadow of sprayed skull and brain matter blew from the back of Ashe’s head as the girl slumped lifelessly to the ground.
“NO!” the ice mistress screamed in spite of herself. Reflexively, she struggled against Sophia’s gentle grip, which only caused the healer to tighten her hold on the doctor
“It’s too late,” Sophia said, fighting back the own sadness and regret in her voice. “You can’t do anything about it. Keep moving forward, and stay alive.”
Stay alive. The mantra of the tournament.
Suddenly, Sophia staggered over, feeling lightheaded and dizzy. Sage caught her as she was about to fall, grunting against holding up even her miniscule amount of weight. The priestess placed a hand to her forehead, groaning as her eyelids groggily fluttered to stay open. It was as if she’d been overcome by a sudden wave of fatigue.
“A-are you okay?” the doctor stuttered worriedly.
“I don’t know…” Sophia moaned. Her fingers trailed along her face, and as her hand was about to fall to her side, she noticed something wrong. Her eyes widened as she splayed out her palm, observing it from one side of the other. The flesh faded in and out of transparency. “…I don’t think so,” she amended dazedly. A lump formed in her throat. “No,” the girl sobbed brokenly, knowing it could only mean one thing. “No.”
Pierre and Vale Dura halted, flanking the pair, and Hollywood noticed by the lack of footsteps that their little caravan ceased its movement. He stared in wonderment at Sophia, lifting his sunglasses to squint his scrutinizing eyes at her hand.
“That’s weird,” he commented off-handedly.
Caracol set Alexander down, feeling no need to carry him any longer. The boy dropped to the ground, barely holding himself within the realm of consciousness as he gasped for air. “Your time in this world is over,” the namek grunted in his deep bass.
“No!” Sophia immediately protested, glaring at the giant green man with accusing eyes. “I have until the end of this tournament. There are three people left, and until they’re killed or I’m killed, I still have time.”
“No more time,” the namek shook his massive head. “Deal with the dead only good for so long.”
Sage couldn’t restrain the priestess as she wrenched herself from the doctor’s grip, launching herself at Caracol. With the force of a child in the throes of a tantrum, she beat her fists wildly against the namekian’s torso.
“I can’t go back! I won’t go back!” Sophia raged. She had spent the majority of her time comforting others in the face of her own fears, her own despair, and it felt hollow and empty that no one could offer the same console and solace. The namek just stood there, a mountain against the howling wind.
“Well, we were instructed to bring three, but I guess we’re left with two,” Hollywood observed nonchalantly. “Hey, dummy!” The stuntman gestured over to Vale and signaled towards Alex. “Pick him up and let’s go!”
The saiyan grunted angrily, but obliged as he scooped up the street entertainer. Pierre hadn’t moved from Sage’s side, although he made no effort to force her forward.
“Do I have to carry you over my shoulder, little missy?” Ray Norris asked. He motioned for her to move along as well.
Instead, Sage walked over to Sophia and hugged her from behind, and the priestess collapsed against the namek. Caracol stood solidly, supporting both of their weight as they awkwardly leaned against his sturdy frame. Sophia cried, and Sage waited until the sobs died down before releasing the girl. The doctor smiled, trying to mimic the smile that Sophia would give to cheer up somebody else.
“You’re breakin’ my heart, ladies,” Hollywood said sarcastically as he rolled his eyes. He gripped Sage’s arm firmly and dragged her away, Pierre in tow. “You comin’, Caracol?”
“No, I stay,” the namek rumbled. Sophia, no longer having the strength to hold herself up, dropped slowly to the concrete. The namek picked her up as if she were a child and walked over to the side of a building, where he leaned her up against it. He squatted down beside her and simply waited for the inevitable.
Sophia kept her eyes open for as long as she could, wanting to see the world of the living as she died again. Her thoughts drifted everywhere and nowhere, a mishmash of painful emotions and unfulfilled desires. She thought of Kaden, of course, wishing he could be here in her final moments. As she had done for Tempo, though, a boy she barely knew, someone had stayed with her, so she wouldn’t die alone. Ironically, it was a creature that had been paid to kill her, and here he was granting her the mercy of comfort. He said nothing, not knowing what to say, and the moment did not require words anyway. Her breathing came slower, softer. Caracol placed a firm hand on her shoulder, and she gradually rolled her head to look at him. He nodded once, the face of a warrior watching a comrade fall in battle.
It’s time to go back, Sophia… a voice whispered.
“But I don’t want to go back,” she whispered, looking towards the sky. It had become so bright all of a sudden…so bright…
Sophia…it’s time to go back…
Sophia could keep her eyes open no longer. Her own anthem of the angels was singing its fateful chorus. As they closed, she exhaled her final breath, and the priestess moved no more.
“WOOOOO! YEAH!” Drake cheered at the screen, clapping his hands enthusiastically. “This is great stuff? Look at them go at it!”
Damon nodded. It was about that time. Doing so would mean he’d miss some of the action, but his gamble would simply have to take that risk. He got up from his chair, signaling the beginning of the final move. Audric glanced up at him and desperately mouthed, ‘Don’t leave me alone with him!’ Damon merely smiled and politely excused himself, despite Josh’s protests that he was going to miss out on the grand finale that he’d elaborately constructed. Dukes left anyway. He walked through the empty corridors, unfettered by the pairs of guards stationed at every corner. You’d think it was a military facility.
Before long, the host found himself within the chamber that housed the players’ capsules. He nodded towards a lead medic and slowly began to unbutton his thousand-zeni shirt. No words exchanged between employer and employees as the department head willingly stepped inside a capsule of his own, staring straight ahead as the team carefully hooked him up to the machine. To someone uninformed of the situation, it almost looked as if a man had willingly gone to face his own execution, lying still instead of fighting back as tubes and wires and electrodes stuck in and around his body. An oxygen mask fitted over his face, and he flinched as twin needles drilled into his temple. The sound of his own steady breathing steaming against the molded plastic thrummed in his ears. Damon Dukes felt himself be enveloped in one of those moments where one could not help but ask themselves, ‘How did I get here? How did this happen to me? How did I become this person?’ He could vividly see his own childhood: a boy of innocence from a family that ebbed and flowed of happiness, but not of money. He had worked hard to become a man of power, of influence, and of affluence. The host had gotten exactly what he wanted, although perhaps never in a way a child could have imagined, as Damon had become the monsters he’d so willingly surrounded himself with…and he was good at it.
The medic looked at him, and Damon closed his eyes and nodded. A cool sensation washed over him as he felt consciousness slowly elude him. Audric had asked him why he would do it, why he would risk going inside the machine for a sinking ship. As the last threads of his awakened state left him, the ever-vigilant chess master remembered his reply:
Sometimes, in order to win, the king must be put into play.
-----
Hollywood and the others watched carefully as the battle before them unfolded. Then a hand went up to his ear, or more specifically, to the device in his ear. He gave the rest of his fellow Eliminators a meaningful look, and they all expressed their comprehension of the silent signal. He faced towards Alex and Sophia, taking a deep breath before jumping in between them and spreading his arms out wide.
“Time out,” the stuntman grinned cockily.
Alex refused to listen. “No time out. I’m going to finish this.”
Suddenly, he felt a massive pair of arms completely encircle his body from behind, lifting him off the ground. The great namekian Caracol imprisoned him within a fierce reverse bear hug that cut off not only the street entertainer’s circulation but also his ability to draw breath. The frail psychokinetic struggled against the hold, but could not break it. Hollywood glanced at Sophia.
“Do I need to restrain you?” he asked suggestively.
The priestess shook her head, swallowing hard as she fought the rush of adrenaline that surged within. Vale Dura and Pierre interceded on behalf of Ashe and Sage, yielding the same results of halting the battle.
“We’re doing exactly what you want. What’s going on now?” Ashe demanded, warily eyeing the Eliminators ringing them.
“This part is over,” Hollywood shrugged. “We needed to know you could fight, no matter who it was. Would you three come with us, please?”
Hollywood gestured, but it was not yet certain to whom he referred. Caracol began to walk away, Trafford still tightly ensconced in his grip. Ashe, Sophia, and Sage also stepped forward, a pit of fear building in their stomachs…fear of failure, fear of death. Kristanna grabbed Ashe tightly by the shoulder, and the cautious eyes of Sage and Sophia did not miss this action.
“W-what are you going to do?” Sage demanded.
“That’s none of your business,” Kristanna answered as softly as possible.
“This isn’t right!” Sophia chided, her fists balling up tightly.
Trafford, of course, didn’t care as to the fate of his three opponents, but the two girls, despite not knowing completely what would happen to their friend, were far more reluctant to let anything divide them…even though they had been trying to kill each other mere moments ago.
“Just go, guys. I’ll be alright,” Ashe assured, although her smile was tightlipped, her voice wavering.
“Ashe,” Sage said, her bottom lip quivering.
“Come on, Sage,” Sophia ushered, going over to the girl and putting a comforting hand on her arm as she pulled her away. The priestess glanced over at Ashe, and then forcibly moved herself and the doctor to follow the rest of the Eliminators.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Ashe looked down and asked, “This is the end of the line for me, isn’t it?”
Kristanna waited a moment before answering, “Yeah, it is. For what it’s worth, I am sorry.”
“You remember what I said, right? About my parents?” Ashe reminded.
“I remember,” the android agreed.
“By the way, I don’t even think I know your name,” the student chuckled nervously.
“It’s Kristanna. You should know me very well,” the undercover officer replied cordially. The sound of a gun being slid from its holster filled the silence. “Turn around, please. I’m not going to do this to your back.”
Ashe complied, standing perfectly still. Some part of her urged her to run, to flee, survive, but she knew it would be pointless. She stared Kristanna directly in the eyes as the android leveled the XRS modular between her eyes.
“It’s okay,” Ashe said. “I know this isn’t real.”
Kristanna searched the girl’s eyes. “What if you’re wrong?”
Ashe beamed confidently. “What if I’m not?”
Kristanna smiled and chortled, a thing of incomprehensible emotion.
Sage, farther off but still close enough to see the two figures standing in the middle of the empty street, happened to look over her shoulder just as Kristanna pulled the trigger, and a shadow of sprayed skull and brain matter blew from the back of Ashe’s head as the girl slumped lifelessly to the ground.
“NO!” the ice mistress screamed in spite of herself. Reflexively, she struggled against Sophia’s gentle grip, which only caused the healer to tighten her hold on the doctor
“It’s too late,” Sophia said, fighting back the own sadness and regret in her voice. “You can’t do anything about it. Keep moving forward, and stay alive.”
Stay alive. The mantra of the tournament.
Suddenly, Sophia staggered over, feeling lightheaded and dizzy. Sage caught her as she was about to fall, grunting against holding up even her miniscule amount of weight. The priestess placed a hand to her forehead, groaning as her eyelids groggily fluttered to stay open. It was as if she’d been overcome by a sudden wave of fatigue.
“A-are you okay?” the doctor stuttered worriedly.
“I don’t know…” Sophia moaned. Her fingers trailed along her face, and as her hand was about to fall to her side, she noticed something wrong. Her eyes widened as she splayed out her palm, observing it from one side of the other. The flesh faded in and out of transparency. “…I don’t think so,” she amended dazedly. A lump formed in her throat. “No,” the girl sobbed brokenly, knowing it could only mean one thing. “No.”
Pierre and Vale Dura halted, flanking the pair, and Hollywood noticed by the lack of footsteps that their little caravan ceased its movement. He stared in wonderment at Sophia, lifting his sunglasses to squint his scrutinizing eyes at her hand.
“That’s weird,” he commented off-handedly.
Caracol set Alexander down, feeling no need to carry him any longer. The boy dropped to the ground, barely holding himself within the realm of consciousness as he gasped for air. “Your time in this world is over,” the namek grunted in his deep bass.
“No!” Sophia immediately protested, glaring at the giant green man with accusing eyes. “I have until the end of this tournament. There are three people left, and until they’re killed or I’m killed, I still have time.”
“No more time,” the namek shook his massive head. “Deal with the dead only good for so long.”
Sage couldn’t restrain the priestess as she wrenched herself from the doctor’s grip, launching herself at Caracol. With the force of a child in the throes of a tantrum, she beat her fists wildly against the namekian’s torso.
“I can’t go back! I won’t go back!” Sophia raged. She had spent the majority of her time comforting others in the face of her own fears, her own despair, and it felt hollow and empty that no one could offer the same console and solace. The namek just stood there, a mountain against the howling wind.
“Well, we were instructed to bring three, but I guess we’re left with two,” Hollywood observed nonchalantly. “Hey, dummy!” The stuntman gestured over to Vale and signaled towards Alex. “Pick him up and let’s go!”
The saiyan grunted angrily, but obliged as he scooped up the street entertainer. Pierre hadn’t moved from Sage’s side, although he made no effort to force her forward.
“Do I have to carry you over my shoulder, little missy?” Ray Norris asked. He motioned for her to move along as well.
Instead, Sage walked over to Sophia and hugged her from behind, and the priestess collapsed against the namek. Caracol stood solidly, supporting both of their weight as they awkwardly leaned against his sturdy frame. Sophia cried, and Sage waited until the sobs died down before releasing the girl. The doctor smiled, trying to mimic the smile that Sophia would give to cheer up somebody else.
“You’re breakin’ my heart, ladies,” Hollywood said sarcastically as he rolled his eyes. He gripped Sage’s arm firmly and dragged her away, Pierre in tow. “You comin’, Caracol?”
“No, I stay,” the namek rumbled. Sophia, no longer having the strength to hold herself up, dropped slowly to the concrete. The namek picked her up as if she were a child and walked over to the side of a building, where he leaned her up against it. He squatted down beside her and simply waited for the inevitable.
Sophia kept her eyes open for as long as she could, wanting to see the world of the living as she died again. Her thoughts drifted everywhere and nowhere, a mishmash of painful emotions and unfulfilled desires. She thought of Kaden, of course, wishing he could be here in her final moments. As she had done for Tempo, though, a boy she barely knew, someone had stayed with her, so she wouldn’t die alone. Ironically, it was a creature that had been paid to kill her, and here he was granting her the mercy of comfort. He said nothing, not knowing what to say, and the moment did not require words anyway. Her breathing came slower, softer. Caracol placed a firm hand on her shoulder, and she gradually rolled her head to look at him. He nodded once, the face of a warrior watching a comrade fall in battle.
It’s time to go back, Sophia… a voice whispered.
“But I don’t want to go back,” she whispered, looking towards the sky. It had become so bright all of a sudden…so bright…
Sophia…it’s time to go back…
Sophia could keep her eyes open no longer. Her own anthem of the angels was singing its fateful chorus. As they closed, she exhaled her final breath, and the priestess moved no more.
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