Colosseum - Championship - Shang Tsung vs Bandit

[Shang Tsung]

Whoever she was, the woman had an admirable tenacity.

Stepping forward, he offered a hand to the grievously injured warrior and pulled her up to her feet.

“Well then,” Shang muttered, staring into the woman’s face. “Nice to meet you…”

In response to what was a clear question, the woman shrugged her shoulders.

The sorcerer scowled as he backed up a few paces from his adversary. “You need a weapon?” He asked as he reached for the sheathed sword that dangled from his side. With a fluid motion, he wrenched the blade free and gently tossed it to the bandit, who managed to catch it and flip it upright in her wobbly hands.

“How many weapons do you have?” She grinned as fresh blood oozed down the corner of her mouth.

“Enough.” Shang Tsung replied as he held up an arm and twitched faintly as the tarkatan blade slid free from his flesh.

Rushing forward, the sorcerer swung high and was met by the sword. Although the woman held firm for a few moments, her strength started to ebb once more. With the bandit preoccupied, he brought his other hand forward, but as the blade slipped out from his other forearm, his opponent twisted out of the way.

A victim of his own momentum, Shang stumbled and caught his balance. He turned just in time to have his own weapon slash down his face and chest. Teeth clenched to hold back a shout, the former monk blinked as blood marred one of his eyes, clouding half his field of vision in crimson.

“Told you…” the woman paused to spit out a mouthful of blood and wipe off her chin a moment later. “Told you I can still fight.”

“Point well taken,” Shang mumbled as he threw out a hand and hurtled a flaming skull at the woman’s chest. An incoherent curse filled the air as the bandit lurched to the side and gracelessly collapsed to her knees. As she turned to look back, she found herself staring right into the cold eyes of Shang Tsung as he buried his arm blade down through her right lung.

Fresh blood gurgled out of the woman’s mouth as the sorcerer’s other hand slid under her arm pit and yanked her up to her feet. The tarkatan blade retracted back into Shang’s arm as the jian hit the ground with a dull clang.

“Just get this the fuck over with,” Bandit replied. “Before I’m tempted to gouge your eyes out. You know how hard it is to resist gouging someone’s eyes out?”

Without a quirky retort, Shang shoved the woman back and swiped the other blade across his gut, tearing open her stomach as rivulets of blood rushed down her chest and mouth.

Hands clutched to her gut to keep her organs in check, Bandit tipped over and hit the ground with a dull thud, her eyes surprisingly sharp as it became harder for her to breath.

“Been here, done this.” Bandit remarked as Shang stooped down and turned her eyes toward his.

“Another time,” he muttered before dropping her head down. When he spoke again, it almost seemed half-hearted, as if a part of him lamented what could have been. “Your soul is mine.”