The Hunger Games

[Shang Tsung]

Darkshire at night was a far more pleasant place. Like Europe had been before the Industrial Revolution, the streets were illuminated by candles and torches that rarely did their job and often extinguished themselves in their own oil. Just as the bartender had mentioned, the streets were full of an assortment of riffraff. Those men who weren’t drunk were often the ones who were staring at their passers-by like hawks. Shang had a laugh at how obvious they made themselves as they tried to figure out who was drunk enough to rob blind.

Leaving behind the district where his room was located, the sorcerer made his way to a more rundown part of town. He was reminded of New York in the decade before the most recent Mortal Kombat tournament--dozens of aimless drifters with animal glares and sin in their eyes. Shang was beginning to wonder how exactly Darkshire remained stable with all these would-be criminals. He paused to glimpse up at the stone walls a few blocks down. Even at this distance, he could spot the faint outline of guardsman staring out into the Pale Moors. Where those mortal men up there or some of the town’s ghoulish defenders?

Either way, there was clearly very little in the form of law enforcement. With that in mind, the sorcerer made his way off the main street and into a smaller stretch of cobblestone between the rows of dilapidated buildings. Surely he’d find something to take advantage of if he wandered long enough in these ill-light paths.

A few yards away, a woman screamed, and Shang had to suppress the urge to grin. He promptly turned and watched as a woman was shoved down next to a trash bin by an overweight man with dirty clothes. A quick glance revealed that no one seemed to care to investigate screams from an alley. The sorcerer watched as the man drew a small knife and stalked over to the downed woman, who had one hand around her ankle.

I’ll take it. With a smile, Shang pivoted and threw out his palms. When his wrists touched, there was a flash of orange before a flaming skull erupted from between his slightly bent fingers. The projectile slammed into the man’s chest and threw him off his feet and into the brick wall of the nearby structure. “That wasn’t very nice,” the sorcerer shouted as he walked over to the crumpled man and crouched in front of him. “Now why would you go and do something like that?”

“Fuck you,” the other man spat as he tried to reach for his knife. Before he could move more than two inches, Shang slammed his fist onto the outstretched hand, smashing it down onto the cobblestone. The sorcerer glanced over at the woman to see that she had fainted. With a smirk, he turned back to the would-be criminal and punched him straight in the throat, crushing his Adam’s apple. As the man started to choke and sputter, Shang did what he did best. Just like before, it took him a little longer than he wanted to, but eventually he felt the all-too familiar elation as the pitiful creature in front of him started to convulse.

As Shang’s fingers clenched into a fist, the man’s soul fled him through his facial orifices. Like before, there was a momentary flash of all the colors of the rainbow before the green cloud seeped out and flowed into its new owner. The empty vessel slumped back against the brick wall and moved no more. A sigh escaped Shang’s mouth as he felt the new vitality and strength flow through him. The almost-criminal didn’t bring much to the table in terms of skills or talents, but his lifeforce would nevertheless serve to sustain its new master.

“What happened?”

Shang turned to see that the woman had regained consciousness. He contemplated offing her quickly and leaving the scene, but a glance down the street revealed that some people had just left the buildings to risk checking out the commotion. “He went into cardiac arrest. That’s a risk you take when you carry that much weight around and try to get by as a petty thief. Are you okay, Miss?” The voice that came out of the sorcerer’s lips was charming and youthful, and an extension of his hand toward the slightly injured woman yielded the desired effect--a somewhat bashful smile and the attempt to stifle a smile.

“Yes, I don’t think the ankle is broken.” From the way she was able to stand up, it was obvious that she was correct. “Thank you...what is your name?”

“Shang Tsung, at your service.” He punctuated the response with a polite bow that he also used as a chance to check his flanks for any opportunists creeping in from the shadows. “Might I suggest escorting you to a nicer part of town?” He added as he extended his elbow toward her.

“That would be wonderful,” she spoke softly as she wrapped her skinny arm around his elbow and allowed her to lead him back to the main street. Before they’d taken more than a few steps, a man in a very nineteenth century-looking police uniform came into sight. The man, complete with mustache and a custodian helmet, looked straight out of a children’s picture book on Victorian England.

“What happened back here?” The man demanded, his accent somehow managing to match his manner and appearance perfectly.

“That gruesome man back there tried to assault me!” Shang’s female acquaintance replied as she gestured to the corpse. “This gentleman intervened, and that monster back there expired from shock to his heart.”

The policeman furrowed his brow as he stepped around the pair and looked down the alley at the body. “Looks like Big Leonard got what was owed to him… the scoundrel’s a purse-cutter and a sociopath with a special taste for women. I’ll let him sit there and spoil a little before I bother to tell anyone.” With a snicker, the police officer walked off to tend to other matters, leaving Shang and his associate to continue on their merry way through the district.