Backstage Pass to Mortal Kombat

Chapter 30 - Over

My muscles were sore as I picked up the gold trays of water and towels; this wasn’t a good sign. I hadn’t done anything to stay in shape while I’ve been here, and just the kicks and flips last night were enough to make me sore. It frustrated me; I had spent all those years, all that blood, sweat, and tears on forming my skills, and now they were fading because of a chink in the armor of our plan.

My eyes winced as I stepped out into the sunlight, leaning my head from side to side in an attempt to stretch my neck. My feet carried me instinctively through the arenas; passing by groups of men who looked after me hopefully, wishing I was bringing them water. Instead of stopping at them, I went to arena seven, where I was scheduled to go every day, and stopped in front of them all. I served Hanzo first, without looking at him, and continued over to Johnny. He watched me skeptically. I was trying to hide the pain in my face every time I leaned over or stretched the trays out to someone, but I knew I was doing a horrible job.

“Are you okay?” He said when I reached him.

“I slept wrong last night.” I lied.

He gave a sympathetic smile and allowed me to finish my rounds, ending with Ice-Man. I refused to look at him, too, but I could see him watching me hopefully out of the corner of my eye. When I stood back up, after he got his water, and began making my way back to the fortress, he stopped me.

“Hey, slave-girl,” He called. I turned and looked at him expectantly.

“What.” I muttered. It sounded rude, but I wasn’t in the mood for him.

“You said you’ve never seen me do anything.” He shrugged. “How would you like to see me fight Hanzo?”

Hanzo had been watching carefully since he called for me. He looked between us suspiciously, glaring at Ice-Man. As soon as he finished talking to me, Hanzo raised his head to glare deeper at him. “And when did she say this?”

Ice-Man turned to him, “Last night, at dinner.”

Hanzo stood to his feet, “Alright, fine with me.”

I saw the look in his eyes, the look that said this wasn’t going to be a demonstration of Ice-Man’s abilities; this was a demonstration of why he shouldn’t interact with what was his. Nevertheless, Ice-Man stood up as well and followed him into the middle of the ring.

No matter how annoying Ice-Man was, I didn’t want to see this. I sighed and cocked my hip – wincing as I did so – and rolled my eyes for effect. “Can we do this some other time? I’m a little busy – I don’t have time to watch you,” I nodded to blonde man, “get your ass kicked.”

He barked out a laugh before shrugging, “Not exactly what I was planning to do, but alright. This won’t take long at all.” He turned back to Hanzo and fell into his stance, quickly mirrored by Hanzo.

In the same amount of time it takes for lightning to crack the ground, the men collided. Hanzo blocked a hit that was aimed at his face, but he hadn’t seen the kick that was aimed at his legs. His reaction was too slow, and his legs were knocked out from underneath him. Ice-Man looked over his shoulder and smirked at me smugly for a second before returning to the fight just in time to grab Hanzo’s fist that was swung at him, and reached out to hit him in the jaw.

I nearly choked as I watched Hanzo stagger backwards, his mouth bleeding a bit. His gold eyes glared at me, as if this was my fault, before launching himself at Ice-Man. When his hits were blocked again and again, he held out his hand, palm facing his opponent. My eyes widened in horror; I knew what was happening.

The beak I had seen years ago form again in his palm, quickly springing out, connected to a black cord that protruded from his hand. The beak flew at Ice-Man, screaming with an un-godly screech. He didn’t seem to panic as the beak came within inches of him. Instead, Ice-Man held out his own hand and grabbed the beak on the sides. As his hand touched the surface of the orange, yellow, and black spike, it slowly turned a cool blue.