In Blackest Night

[Shang Tsung]

The sorcerer and the female battle mage had been left with the five most useless members of the party. Aside from someone who seemed to be a trained monk (not that Shang had any love for monks), those that remained after the Spartan departed were those pulled along into Silent Hill purely through devotion to whatever god Argento worshipped. With the paladin gone and the sun barely visible through the nearly opaque fog, the five men were worthless. They gripped at their icons or rubbed beads in their hands as Shang led them into the left wing of Cedar Grove Sanitarium.

Making their way through the largest door on the left side of the lobby, Shang immediately felt the temperature drop a few degrees as he passed into the wide corridor. His eyes noted the secured double doors on the far wall and the fact that the hallway turned to the right. Holding out a hand to stop his followers, Shang bent down to pick up a broken brick. Without moving forward, he gingerly tossed the little piece of masonry down the hallway and kept his eyes glued on the turn up ahead.

“We’re clear,” he muttered after a few moments of silence followed the loud crash of brick against thick wood. Leading the way, the sorcerer jiggled one of the stairwell doors and found that it was locked. Since it was a little too early to start smashing doors and windows, he turned and made his way down the hallway. As the group traversed the corridor, they had to maneuver around abandoned gurneys and piles of refuse that ranged from torn clothes to what was hopefully decomposing animals.

“This is disgusting,” someone whispered as they reached a part where the hallway forked. Straight ahead, a door marked laundry was partially buried behind a fallen patch of ceiling. To their right, there were two simple doors labeled ‘Storage,’ and on their other side, the hallway faded into darkness. Knowing that they were there for supplies, the sorcerer grabbed hold of the door knob to one of the storage rooms and jiggled it. As with the stairwell access, the door was locked.

“I’ll try this one…” Someone muttered as they walked over to the other storage room and easily opened the door. “I got i—oh god!”

Everyone turned in time to watch as the priest was tackled into the far wall by a gray-skinned man in a straightjacket. Before anyone had a chance to do little more than gawk, yellowed teeth found the holy man’s neck and tore out a fatal chunk of flesh, muscle, and blood vessels. Shang reacted swiftly, his hand finding the sword and bringing it to bear on the growling creature. The blade of the jian cleaved through the exposed neck of what had probably once been a person. A beat later, two bloody corpses hit the ground with wet, blood-soaked thuds.

Behind Shang, everyone except Ruby looked as if they’d seen a ghost. Their resolve was shaking, and honestly, the sorcerer didn’t care. “Come on,” he growled as he stepped into the storage room. As he crossed over the threshold, he sheathed his sword and fumbled around until he found a light switch. A quick flip caused a weak, single incandescent bulb to flicker to life overhead and bath the room in a pale yellow light. “Garbage…” the sorcerer spoke beneath his breath as he ran a hand down a mostly empty shelf. He was about to turn his attention elsewhere when he noticed that his skin was a little yellower. Bringing his hand closer to his eye, he noticed that his arm had a few horns, and his forearm bones seemed a little… bulgier.

“Are you okay, Shang?” One of the men asked upon noticing the sorcerer examining what seemed to be his perfectly normal arm.

The sorcerer glanced up and smiled at the man. It wasn’t the fake one he put on when he was dealing with people he’d rather stab. No, this was the real smile—dark and sinister and full of malice. With his other hand, Shang willed the door to softly swing shut, and a beat later, everyone heard the click of the lock as it slid into place.

“What’s going on?” Another priest asked as he grabbed the knob and gave it a shake. When it refused to yield, he began to tug and yank at it while the others grew increasingly panicked at their predicament and the sorcerer’s expression.

One of the squires from Darkshire walked over to Shang and placed a hand on the prime’s shoulder. “What is going on?”

Without skipping a beat, Shang clenched his right hand and punched his fist into the man’s gut. Moments before what should have been a clean punch; a jagged blade tore up from the sorcerer’s forearm and skewered the would-be knight. With a grunt, Shang placed his other arm beneath the dying man’s armpit and threw him toward the other side of the room. Glancing ahead, the sorcerer smirked at the rest of the people trapped in the room with him. A second blade emerged from Shang’s other forearm.

“Yours souls are mine.”