Necromancy strikes again.
I had a strange dream that had a surreal tropical jungle environment where if you jumped into what looked like puddles that dotted the forest, you'd find yourself in a drowned, submerged city with entire skyscrapers below the surface. I wondered what supported the ground and trees at the surface. It started off as military style movement and recon, and ended as a one on one Mortal Kombat battle with myself as Sub Zero and a no-name participant.
[spoiler]I was part of a small team. We moved stealthily through the tropical forest surface and the strange, sunken underwater city literally just below the trees. We were searching this strange land for two things. The militants, along with their leader hiding out in the living maze of water and plants, and the evidence of their crimes against the other local populations.
We hadn’t encountered the men yet, but in the underwater rooms and buildings, we were finding the bloated bodies of evidence hidden in nearly every dark corner. These people had suffered much under the group’s tyranny before they were killed. We expertly gathered it all and brought our findings back in.
One young man, a local who had operated with us, had known one of the cadavers we’d found. It was his mother. I witnessed as he told his father the news. The young boy’s entire body stance screamed rage. His father gladly gave his son the permission he was seeking. With pride and love in his voice he handed the boy a knife and said, “Go. I don’t want to see you again until you have killed him. If I never see you again, then I will be comforted knowing that you gave your all.” The boy’s face shone as he accepted the knife. He smartly about-faced and left his father’s office. He would now focus his life on killing the family member who had joined the militants and had betrayed his beloved mother to them and consigned her to her death.
The news of our findings had attracted a lot of attention, however. And for every person there seemed to be a different proposed solution. So it was agreed that action would be decided by a tournament. Two loosely associated factions emerged: those who would destroy and those who would win to stop them. It would be Mortal Kombat. [lol, I know, but that’s how the dream went!]
I’d glanced at the ladder for the tournament but that was it. I didn’t care who all was fighting and it was useless to speculate on future matches until the other matches were settled. But I was curious to see who I would have to defeat first.
And so it was that I approached the arena for my first match. I was suited up and confident, with a knife in my pocket. I am Sub Zero.
Oddly enough we were in a theater and I would have to fight between two rows of seats. Room enough only to advance and retreat in this fight. [in hindsight, this is in keeping with the original 2D fighter, XD]
I look up and see my opponent. She was dressed like Kitana, but in shades of pink instead of blue/purple to contrast with her brown skin. She isn’t Mileena, but unnamed fighter. Yet, I still know her. I trained with her and we’d practically grown up together. My frame shook as tears rolled unchecked, but I made no sound. The men circling the combat zone, waiting to watch the fight laughed at me, but I didn’t care. They didn’t matter. I didn’t want to fight her. I didn’t want to hurt her, or kill her if I had to. But fight her I must. I would destroy this tiny realm. Or so people had surmised. So seemingly, I was allied with the likes of Shao Khan and Baraka- the faction of destroyers. I didn’t have the time to correct them, to go into the details of my plan. They’d see the difference after I’d won command. These men laughing at my tears didn’t matter. They probably thought I was afraid. I’d seen what the militants had done. I would see them all destroyed. My own hands would see to it. I supposed it might destroy this whole tiny realm in the process. But I would still cry for my friend.
She was crouched in a ready stance, knife in hand and unhesitant. Determination and focus kept her face and body rigid in her pose. I doubt she knew she was fighting me. I would not use my powers against her, but I brought my own knife out to bear in my right hand, blade like a fang pointed to the earth. I hated knife fights. I did far better fist to fist (or rather, fist to face).
She attacked first, slashing at my midsection but I dodged, stepping back. I was on the defensive. She was relentless, thrusting and slashing quickly as I dodged or blocked. But soon she was bleeding down her right side from her own slashes that I’d blocked and nudged closer to her own body while out and away from mine. Such slashes far outnumbered ones from my own counter attacks. As she paused in her flurries to breathe, I hoped she would weaken from the blood loss but she was not bleeding much from the shallow cuts and her stance was still strong and unflinching. I’d had to move very quickly to avoid being gutted several times. Even so, as I took the moment to assess myself I felt the strange sensation of two lines across my abs. I couldn’t tell if I’d been cut very shallowly or if it was the cool air showing me where the tip of her blade had only rent my clothes. I couldn’t afford to be seriously wounded here. So as I turned my focus back to her, I tensed by body and clenched my fists to strike back seriously.
Then I woke up.[/spoiler]