Post by Kimitsu Zombie on Jul 17, 2017 2:04:15 GMT -5
We see her close up. The face is young and without much makeup we see that the pale skin is only broken by slight scars and small blemishes. Her hazel eyes are cold but they are not focusing on anything and are dilated. She would look innocent between the blonde hair that frames her face if not for the splashes of red on her chin, cheek and forehead. We zoom out very slowly as she takes a drag of a black cigarette and speaks hoarsely through pale lips.
“I have just come out of two matches with some of the toughest people in the fighting game. Here in Union Battleground I defeated Saint Saito. It was a great fight and a real honor. Now that I defeated her, that reputation she has, the air of ruthlessness and the fears she puts into people, they all becomes my weapons. Her name is added to my list and all that was Saint Saito is now my reputation and my prestige. I wasn’t able to add that other name but that just brings a whole other aspect to this match. I’m coming up from a fucking low.”
Kimitsu takes another puff from her cigarette and now we can see that her hand is covered in red up to half way up her forearm. She opens her eyes wide and frowns.
“You all know what happened the last time I fought here from a low? I just took all that shame and put it into my attacks until Isaiah Elliot didn’t get back up. I am on high from these fights I’ve been having recently. Still don’t like losing but any frustrations I have about Lauryn Wolfe I get to take out on my next opponent, Cheyenne’s boyfriend, Xion Ben-Judah. This guy is the real deal, right? He’s an Israeli that’s never been defeated in Union Battleground, and a former badass mercenary built like a brick shithouse. I should be fucking scared, right? This man has all the tools to give me trouble but there is one thing getting in the way.”
We can now see her upper torso and her tank top is stained and ripped. She points a one and her other hand has the fresh red liquid on it and she notices and wipes it on her stomach.
“This man, a fucking badass, has been reduced to being a farmhand for a bitch. How sad is that? I don’t know shit about this mercenary group he was in and I really don’t know much about being in love, but it seems these two things are polar opposites of the other and you can’t really be both at once. It takes a cold motherfucker to be a soldier. A good one, at least. For one thing it closes you off to the guilt about the things you do. Make no mistake, Xion, you are probably a murderer. But you’ve found your heart haven’t you?”
She grins in such a way that it is almost a grimace and we now see more of her background. She is sitting on a raised platform and the area behind her is covered in white, almost pristine, tiles. Some hooks can be seen from the ceiling and a corner of the Mexican flag. She picks up something from beside her and points at the camera while leaning in. It is a machete patched with red, dripping in parts..
“Found it and gave it away, right? Found yourself a pretty little piece of peace and civilization in Cheyenne Walker and her little farm, didn’t you? You opened yourself up and allowed the world to come flowing in. Shit has just been horseshoes and rainbows since then, huh? Sure, you struggle to keep your old life from creeping up and snatching you back, in mind and body, but you got your girl there to back you up. And you got a budding career. You know what I see, though, when I look at you? I see lies. All you are and all you have is a facade. Your new life on the farm, your girl, and your career… A sham.
“Let’s start with your Cheyenne and the farm. The way I see it this is your escape, and not from your hectic city life. No, this is the escape from yourself. I know you and Cheyenne must work hard. That truck commercial from the super bowl some time back said as much. You work so hard you must not have the time or the energy to think. What kind of fucked up shit did you and Azrael get up to, huh? All work and no play, no idle time. You throw yourself into any project and any little goodie charity you can in order to escape that guilt. I know people like you. Monsters trying to run away from their beastly natures. You can’t get rid of it completely. Seen hints of that here. The farm work can’t distract you enough. Cheyenne can’t make you feel too human. So you wrestle.”
She gets up off the platform and throws the cigarette away. We see her knees now and that the lower section of her sweats and where she stepped into is covered in red, sometimes lining the lower parts of the walls in jet streams of stains. She ways the machete around.
“That’s also a bit of a shitshow isn’t it? I look at it like this: Aside from Saito-san, all your opponents have been crap. From Xalvador to the late Kreature you’ve breezed by these losers because they are nothing. Because they are nothing, it makes your record illegitimate. Saint Saito is your only worthwhile victory and that only happened because of some other bitch. I don’t like to say this since I don’t believe in it, but you have been lucky. That stops now since you have me and with the contendership for the Trench War Title on the line. You think you’re on the fast lane towards that title but I won’t let you get past me. I’ll cut you down.”
Kimitsu’s expression grows dark. She squats down and we follow her as she faces a pig’s body with the severed head lying in front of it. One eye is closed and the other is half open and the tongue hangs out of its mouth. The cuts at the neck are clean and deliberately neat. She shakes her head.
“I do not want to face the farmboy do-gooder. That man is a liar and a coward. I don’t want to face the loverboy, either. While that man does have something to fight for but opening up his heart has made him soft and vulnerable. Weak. I don’t even want to face Azrael’s student. That man has been cocky and complacent. If you come at me as the man you think you are now, Xion, you’ll just write me off as some sort of nuisance. You have an armor about you that doesn’t believe he can be threatened and hurt. That will do you no favors. Just ask Cheyenne.”
She sets the machete down and picks up the pig’s head. She stands and holds it in front of her.
“Xion, I want you to descend into something more… something pure. I want the Missio Dei Xion Ben-Judah. I want that god-fearing mercenary that knows what a threat is and knows how to meet it. This is my chance at a title and if you take me lightly I will make you pay for it. Like those fuckers you barreled through, I will end you quick. The soldier would recognize me for the threat that I am. Don’t ignore that you face Kimitsu fucking Zombie. This is the advice I am giving you ‘cause I am a sporting bitch. Fighting Saito-san has gotten me riled up and I want to keep feeling this way. You may call on your God and all the little Azraels up in heaven to help, but you will fucking take me seriously. You will get rid of your civility and your morality because in the state that I am in now, after a loss and with a contendership on the line, that is the only way to survive this match. You aren’t going to win anyway. It’s my chance at another championship so don’t even think you can, but at least you’ll come out of it looking like a warrior. I’m being generous with you now, Xion. Ignore my advice at your own risk."
She sets the pig’s head next to her on the platform she was sitting and smiles. We zoom back a little more and the pig’s body twitches slightly and the shot is abruptly cut.
“The uniform that I had worn multiple times in the Missio Dei training compound itched and constricted my movements. The gleaming gold cross at my throat, a symbol of faith and honor, weighed heavily, hindering my breath no matter the amount of times I shifted it aside. The sidearm in my hand felt icy-cumbersome-and just ‘wrong.’ I couldn't do this. They couldn't expect me to do this. This was another human being they were ordering me to kill, not some kind of animal!”
“A wretched sob ripped from the prone figure slumped at my boots, nearly causing me to lose grip on the cold emotionless weapon in my white-knuckled fist. I refused to look down. I refused to see the fear-stricken face of the young woman I was told to ‘dispose of’. She couldn't be older than my cousin Sarai that I had left behind in Tel Aviv to join Missio Dei. Sarai was four years younger than me and was the little sister I never had. We played hide-and-seek every day in the apartment building that my uncle owned on the outskirts of the city after they took me in.”
“I sucked in a breath of the bitter air. My lungs tightened as if in a vice. It wasn't right! I felt the chilly, uncaring wind tousle my then-curly black hair. My clenched eyes barely registered the movement of the girl's rich chocolate locks tumbling into her panic-riddled face. She was the lone survivor of the village; the rest of her cohorts abandoned her or were killed as they retreated into the darkness of the desert. Her sobs resounded in my ears and seemed to reverberate in my skull.”
“I had to do it. I would be excommunicated from Missio Dei if I refused. My grip slackened slightly. Maybe excommunication would be for the best. Better to be exiled with morals upheld than live life depraved. My thoughts flickered back home. Sarai would have to live without her ‘ach’ (‘brother’ in Hebrew).”
“KILL HER!”
“The voice of my commanding officer was frigidly harsh. Missio Dei would go after them, my family. Dissent ran in bloodlines the Order would say. No one would try to dispute it. My breath came out choked. It wasn't right. It wasn't what the High Brother said it would be. I didn't have a choice. The face of a smiling green-eyed girl flowed unbidden into my mind, her hand extended as if to say “Come back soon, Ach!” I couldn't let her die. A frantic murmuring of prayer in my native language filtered through my scattered thoughts. I steeled myself and opened my eyes, though my sight was focused in the far distance.”
“I'm sorry…please, forgive me.”
“The young woman heard my Hebrew and slowly looked up at me. She glared with demonic eyes as her true self emerged. She spat at my boots and spoke boldly.”
“Allahu akbar, kinzir!”
“My hesitation vanished. A shot rang out, scaring the already feasting vultures.”
I returned to the present from my subconscious trip with steely eyes. I quickly refocused as Cheyenne waved at me with her big beautiful smile as she got ambushed by a dozen piglets while she spread their food around their pen. The sound of the joyous piglet snorts were slightly comforting after remembering such a volatile memory. I waved back at Cheyenne before turning around and heading towards our other barn-turned-training facility.
“Allah is great, you pig!”
“Those were the final words spoken by the young woman that night. Actually she never spoke again. The young woman was an ISIS soldier. She was responsible for murdering all the children in an orphanage set up by WorldVision with poison on the Iraqi-Syrian border. She was seconds from activating her vest bomb when she was incapacitated. Yet the allied U.S.-Iraqi forces wouldn’t take the necessary steps under political orders from the then-Commander-in-Chief after taking the village from ISIS. So Missio Dei did what no one else was willing to do.”
“And that is what Kimitsu Zombie fails to understand. I do what no one else is willing to do.”
“The woman called me a “pig” that night because of my ethnicity and race. But who was the real pig? Who was the animal who killed innocent children just to continue an endless sibling rivalry that spans three religions? I did what I had to do that night. And, God forgive me if I’m wrong but I would do it again in a heartbeat. The lives of those children needed justice. I gave it to them.”
“No defenseless pig at a butcher shop can equal the pigs I have “eliminated” for their atrocities against humanity. You think I fear another clown who kills defenseless animals to feebly attempt to become relevant inside a wrestling ring? All the pig blood on your body will not elicit dread or apprehension from me heading into L!GHTS OUT #15. The only thing I feel for you, Kimitsu Zombie, is pity. Pity because you have no idea what you’re asking for.”
“You want the Xion Ben-Judah of Missio Dei? Are you serious? If you want the ‘Missio Dei’ Xion Ben-Judah then you must not value your life. For I eliminate those who do injustice. And there is no coming back.”
“Are you sure you want this? Can I really end Kimitsu Zombie?”
“Take one look at my hands and imagine the pain that's soon to come.”
“Can I really do it?”
“It's not like it'd be very hard, after all. You’ll only be lying rigid on the ring mat after Golgotha snaps your neck, breath coming in short in asthma attack-like bursts. Blood will blossom from who-really-gives-a-damn and it will stain your body much like the pig’s did before.”
“And those hazel eyes of yours? They will be trained on only one thing—me.”
“I could kill you a hundred different ways with my skills and knowledge, although one would work just fine. I could kill you, and I'd probably be happy doing it. But that one question lingers: will I? I mean, it's not like you’ll be going anywhere. You’re stuck lying there. An easy kill. So why pause of the final strike? I know you don’t exactly want death, but after our match you won’t be praying for me to spare your life either. You’ll just be lying there. Waiting. Wondering.”
“Will I do it? Someone like me? With a ‘conscience’? Yeah, right. He’s a wrestler now. True, but you wanted the cold-hearted killer. A murderer.”
“The stench of your blood will be nauseating but it’s not like I haven’t smelled blood before. It will be my inspiration. Blood from your nose. Blood from your mouth. Blood from your ears. An ankle twisted in a way that would be impossible not to be broken. Concussed? Probably. Die of blood loss? Hey, that's possible too.”
“You won’t be speaking, but that’s fine. Your entire body will begin to shake, and you can definitely hear your gasps for oxygen now. All you can do is stare. Watch. Wait.”
“‘Come on, just finish me off!’ you’ll beg in your mind.”
“I’ll take a look at that the pool of blood around you. The shuddering body. You’ll be close enough to death to scare you straight. So why don't I just finish you? Because it’s too easy. And you’re not an animal! You’re not a pig! The only injustice you’ve created since joining Union Battleground is annoying some of the roster.”
“Unlike you, I can rise above the cold-heartedness of our sport. I don’t need to lower myself to the depths of your pathetic imagination to be relevant. I am a harbinger of justice. Not some evil killer. And definitely not some girl on an acid trip in a butcher shop to gain courage.”
“I’m a future Union Battleground Trench War Champion. I will bring honor and respect to a title that hasn’t been defended a quite some time. The day I win the Trench War Title, there will be no questions about my motives or actions. I will simply be better than you and its current holder. And it won’t be because I lowered myself to unnecessary depths of desperation.”
“Kimitsu Zombie, you still want the ‘Missio Dei’ Xion Ben-Judah at L!GHTS OUT #15? No, it wouldn’t be beneficial to your livelihood, the legacy I am trying to uphold, and the championship I’m seeking to take back.”
“But...I promise you this. If you show yourself to be less-than-human in that ring, much like the ISIS female soldier showed her true intent, then you know I will do what’s necessary. And you will be worse off than a stuck pig.”
“Here piggy, piggy.”
Last Edit: Jul 18, 2017 20:37:02 GMT -5 by Deleted
