From alt.games.mk Sun Jul 10 23:57:00 1994
Path: panix!zip.eecs.umich.edu!newsxfer.itd.umich.edu!europa.eng.gtefsd.com!howland.reston.ans.net!usc!elroy.jpl.nasa.gov!lll-winken.llnl.gov!fnnews.fnal.gov!nntp-server.caltech.edu!mustang.mst6.lanl.gov!newshost.lanl.gov!usenet
From: yol@lams.lams.losalamos.k12.nm.us (Jonathan)
Newsgroups: alt.games.mk
Subject: "The Scorpion Saga" (Part 1 of ?)
Date: 10 Jul 1994 05:39:23 GMT
Organization: Los Alamos National Laboratory
Lines: 309
Message-ID: <2vo1ib$8pd@newshost.lanl.gov>
NNTP-Posting-Host: transitory17.lanl.gov
X-Newsreader: WinVN version 0.80

Hello, fellow Mortal Kombat fans!  Some of you may remember
my earlier post ("To everyone who has posted a fan-fiction
story") thanking the authors of the fan-fiction stories, and
announcning the posting of mine.  Well, here it is!
  
		THE SCORPION SAGA
				by Jonathan Harrell


			Death

	I was murdered today.  I had just finished my every day
practice routine when it happened.  I was dressed in my
traditional cotton gi, with my hair combed back and tied in
a tail.  A red bandana decorated my perspiring forehead as I
stretched, and began my morning exercise routine.  I started
out with simple exercises and stretches to warm me up, and
then moved on to more complicated movements such as sit-ups
and push-ups.  My normal routine of the latter two was fifty
sit-ups, and then fifty push-ups.  Then I would repeat that
procedure.  After a full work-out, I moved on to weight
lifting.  My weights consisted of four very heavy stones
which I carried to a nearby stream, and back.  I would do
this five times, non-stop.  Then, after a two minute rest, I
proceeded to lift each stone up and down for six minutes. 
Then I would take a brief rest, and repeat what I had just
done.  After I was through with my exercise routine, I would
spend half an hour working my fighting skills on my old and
worn punching bag.   I would attack the bag with a volley of
punches and kicks, connecting solidly each and every time. 
All my fighting skills I had learned from my master, an old
Chinese fighting monk by the name of Kang Tsing.  He was an
excellent sensei, but has passed on many years ago.  But the
many lessons I learned from him were not to be forgotten.
	He taught me that strength is not the dominant force of
energy of the body; it is the spirit, and the mind.  Without
the mind and spirit, the body would be nothing.  A man can
defeat the strongest and fiercest of foes if he believes in
himself and his spirit.  Among other things not worth
mentioning at the moment, that is what my master, Kang
Tsing, taught me.
	My fighting practice was interrupted by the tinny calls
of a five-year-old boy.  A small little boy, no more than a
meter tall, came running up to me at that moment yelling,
"Daddy!  Daddy!"  This boy was my son.  I scooped him up in
my arms as he ran up to greet me, his eyes flashing with
excitement.  "Look what I brought for you, daddy!" he
proudly presented to me a small straw box, about five
centimeters long.  I knew instantly what it was, but I acted
surprised anyway.  I held the small box up to my ear and
heard the distinct chirping of a cricket inside.
	"It's a cricket!" I exclaimed.  "Thank you, Ouji," he
stood there, beaming with happiness.  "You like it?" he
asked.
	"I love it!" I replied, "Now you'd better get back
home, Ouji.  I think Mommy has  breakfast almost ready for
you."
	"Okay, Daddy," Ouji hurried out the paper door of my
small "gym."  I was, indeed, happy to have this present that
my son so proudly presented to me.  Crickets bring good
luck.  Unfortunately for me, that special good luck charm
that Ouji gave me would not save me from my violent death.  
	I put the box holding the cricket on a shelf to the
right of my punching bag and continued with my practices.  I
attacked the bag with the arsenal of attacks that my master
had taught me so many years ago.  The kicks and punches
executed by my powerful, and muscular, legs and hands were
delivered so fiercely that Riinkaito, my neighbor, heard
them from across the stream.  He mentioned it to me when I
left my dojo (I guess you could call it a dojo.  It's not
really much; just a small gym-style concrete structure,
large enough to house the necessary equipment for my
workouts and training).
	I felt refreshed after my workout.  I always feel
refreshed after a workout.  It was probably about five in
the early morning; I can't be for sure, for we only have one
clock in our home, and the sun dial is on the other side of
my dojo.  The sun was well over the horizon by now, and the
air smelled of the rain the night before; a nice smell.  I
saw Riinkaito loading fish into his truck to take into the
town and sell.  He waved at me.  I returned the gesture of
kindness.  Riinkaito and I were good friends, although we
did not always seem to get along very well.   I bent down
next to the stream that ran between my home and his, and
drank deeply from it.  Then I washed the sweat from my hands
and face and dried them on a small piece of cloth which was
lying next to me.
	  I stood from my crouching position and went over to
talk to Riinkaito.  As I approached his truck he smiled at
me.  I smiled back, stretching a scar that I had received in
a fight once.  It hurt.  This was why I seldom smiled large
smiles.  My scar hurt whenever I did.  Many people thought I
was not a happy person.  But they were wrong.  Of course I
was a happy person, why shouldn't I be?  I've got it made:
I've got a beautiful wife, a satisfactory house, and a
charming young boy.  It was just painful for me to show how
happy I was.
	"You must have been hitting that bag pretty hard,
Scorpion-san,"  Riinkaito told me as I neared his truck.  He
did not actually say "Scorpion-san," he said my real name. 
But for some strange reason, unbeknownst to me, I can't seem
to remember just what my real name was.  It's funny what you
forget when you are dead.
	"Yes, I suppose I was," I replied. "Could you hear it?"
	"Oh, yes, Scorpion-san," he said. "I could hear it all
the way on my walk to Chiki-san's fields."  Chikitoni was a
friend of ours who had very large rice fields that Riinkaito
walked to every morning.  That was his exercise routine. 
Although it did not compare to mine, it was, at least, a
good way to keep in shape.  Chikitoni was called "Chiki" by
his friends.
	"I was working harder this morning," I said.
	"I could tell.  Usually, I do not hear you punching
until I return from my walk."
	Riinkaito proceeded to load fish into his truck, and I
practiced some of the movements from my favorite kata, which
I cannot remember the name of either.  While I was
practicing, I could feel a sudden chilly sensation
throughout the air, even though it was a fairly warm
morning.  I turned to where Riinkaito had been standing and
said, "Riinkaito-san, did you feel -- "  
	Riinkaito was not there.  "Riinkaito-san!"  
	No answer.
	"Riinkaito-san, can you hear me?"
	Still no answer.
	After growing worried about my friend, I started to
look for him.  It did not take me long to find him.  He was
lying on his stomach right next to his truck,  with his head
facing up towards me.  Lying on his stomach with his head
facing me?  It only took one glance at his position to
discover that his head had been twisted around.  It took
another glance to see that he was no longer alive.  I was
bewildered.  What could have happened?  I had him out of my
sight for only --
	I could not finish my thought.  I felt a strong object
strike the left side of my head with astonishing force.  I
was knocked onto the hard ground.  As I looked up to get a
view of my assailant, I felt that same chilling feeling that
I had experienced a few seconds before.  It felt as if
someone had just opened the door of a freezer on a hot
summer day.  I saw a blacked-clothed foot swing at my face
and strike me on the bridge of the nose.  I tried in vain to
stand, but my attacker kept forcing me to the ground.  He
kicked me harder than he had before, and I was sent tumbling
down a slope in the land.  I was finally able to roll to my
feet and get a good look at my assailant.   He was a tall
fellow donned in a loose, black garment that covered him
from head to toe,  like a ninja.  Over his torso, he wore a
dark-blue apron-style ninja coverall that split down the
middle in a V-shape.  He had a belt the same color of his
coverall tied tightly around his waist, with a sort of dark
blue loin cloth hanging from it, reaching his knees.    His
shin guards were also blue, and the look in his eyes was
awfully intimidating.  Of the many things that I did forget
after my death, this ninja was not one of them.  No, I
remember this ninja in the most detail.  
	He shot out a kick, which I blocked, but he countered
my follow-up attack with a footsweep, knocking me to the
ground.  He then proceeded to attack me with all sorts of
maneuvers that I was totally unprepared for, despite my
training.  I fought as best I could, but in the end there
was nothing I could do to keep from being destroyed.  This
ninja was the strangest ninja I have ever seen in my entire
life.  And I've seen quite a few of them (I see one in my
reflection in the stream every day). For one thing, that
chill never left him.  It stayed with him wherever he went. 
And it sent shivers up my spine as well.  I  broke free from
my attacker and began to run.  I was not the type of person
to run away from things, but I know when I am no match for
someone.  And I am no fool. It was while I was running away
from this apparent death match, that I experienced the
strangest sensation I had ever felt.  First, as I thought I
was free, I was hit on the back by something that was very
cold, and really stung.  It was like being hit by a bag of
ice.  It was cold.  Unbearably cold.  Then I began to feel
the cold sensation throughout my entire body.  My pace
slowed drastically.  My whole body grew numb.  It was so
cold.  I had never felt anything like this before.  After
about three seconds, I stopped moving altogether.  I looked
down the best I could and saw that my whole body was a light
blue color.  I couldn't move.  I couldn't breathe.  I came
to the horrifying realization that I had been frozen.  This
mysterious ninja had thrown something at me that had frozen
my entire body.  Suddenly, I saw the ground rushing up at
me.  I was falling.  Apparently, I had been frozen in mid
stride, and, when I stopped moving I was off balance and I
fell.  I didn't feel any pain, though.  At least no more
than I was feeling already.  I was suffocating.  The air had
been cut off entirely from me when I was frozen, and if I
did not get air soon, I would die.  I felt a jarring pain in
my lower back area and I heard the ice shatter.  Finally,
air.  I probably would have been better off suffocating,
however.  Because what I had in store for me now was a
prolonged, painful death.
	The ninja lifted my weak body off the ground and beat
me.  I felt all the punches and kicks he threw at me, and
the numbing feeling only made it worse.  One strong punch I
remember in particular.  I had just been attacked by a
volley of punches a second ago, and now the ninja was
preparing another one.  This punch was landed square on the
left side of my jaw with such force that it knocked some of
my teeth out.  I think I swallowed a few of them too.  I
remember about three small, hard objects slide down my
throat.  The other four teeth flew out of my mouth, at the
peak of the stream of blood that followed them.  The ninja
raised his left hand to deliver a chop.  As quickly as I
could I reached up and grabbed his arm before he could bring
it down upon me.  I then moved it out of the way and
proceeded to deliver a straight lunge punch to this ninja's
mouth.  I could feel his blood squirt out like water does
when a hard object hits it.  A swift palm-heel thrust from
my right hand sent the ninja reeling back onto the ground,
giving me enough time to distance myself from him.  
	This tactic of mine did not faze his attempts to kill
me.  In less than a second, he was back on his feet and
sliding, literally sliding on the ground towards me.  I felt
a sharp pain in my shins, and then I was thrown back about
two feet, landing hard on my back.  As the ninja moved
towards my prostrate body, I tripped him and sprang to my
feet.  As I was about to attack, however, he leaped
backwards, completing two flips in the air, and landed a
good eight feet away from me.  
	"Who are you?" blood spurted from my mouth as I spoke
these words.
	"I am a Lin Kuei, if it makes any difference to you. "
	"You killed my friend, Lin Kuei.  Now you must pay," my
voice was surprisingly menacing.
	"Only a weakling talks.  A strong man fights," with
that, he sent that strange, suffocating ice at me.  I had no
time to get out of the way, so I just pathetically put my
arms up in an X Block.  I felt the same stinging pain that I
was expecting.  I felt it run through my arms and torso,
giving me a cold, tingling feeling all over.  But instead of
it traveling through my entire body, it paused for a brief
moment, and then seemed to "suck" back up to my arms and
hands.  Then I could feel the cold feeling no longer.  I
could move.  Right away, I leaped back in the same manner
that this Lin Kuei had.  Then I had a few seconds to think.
	So what I'd discovered was that this strange ninja
somehow had the powers of ice, and the ability to freeze a
foe.  He also possessed the power to execute some sort of
slide that trips his opponent, although the latter is not
nearly as strange as the first ability.  Also, as weird as
it may seem, the "ice blast" can be rejected by another
simply by blocking it, or otherwise holding up one's arms to
protect one's self.  I had yet to find out if the ice blast
could be rejected by a punch or kick.  I did not wish to
experiment, however.
	The ninja suddenly dove into a thick patch of grass.  I
followed, not wholly knowing exactly what this mysterious
man had in mind.  I brushed past the tall grasses, searching
for the Lin Kuei.  He was gone.  Where could he have gone? 
I remembered what had happened the last time he was out of
my sight.  I would not let that happen again.  I looked
around, scanning the surrounding area.  Nothing.  No sign of
the mysterious ninja.  I took this extra time to wipe the
blood from my face.  My chin and lips were caked with the
maroon-colored substance.  I doubt if I removed even half of
it.  I was just now starting to feel the pain of my teeth
being knocked out.  I could feel the empty gaps between my
teeth with my tongue, and they all hurt.  I spat blood out,
with great difficulty.  I think that bastard dislocated my
jaw bone.  All the while that I was cleaning myself, I kept
constant watch for the slightest movement.  I saw it.  A
bush about five meters away rustled.  There was no breeze
this early in the day, so I knew it must be the Lin Kuei. 
Slowly and cautiously I approached the bush, not wishing to
be caught off guard.  It was here that I made a vital
mistake.  As I prepared to attack the occupant of the bush,
a small squirrel darted out from behind it.  So the Lin Kuei
wasn't behind the --
	I flew up into the air as a strong fist connected with
the base of my skull.  I was tossed at least a meter off the
ground, maybe more.  I hit the ground with a solid thud.  A
hand wrapped around my throat, lifted me , and slammed my
face into the hard ground.  He did it three more times.  By
now the blood I had wiped off seconds before had been made
up for by the huge amount of the stuff covering my face. 
With a hard knee thrust in my back, the ninja forced me over
to the stream and dunked my head into it.  I was able to
catch a brief glance at my face in the reflection.  I looked
like something out of a Halloween costume parade, I was so
bloody.  Now, as my face was being submerged in the water, I
felt that same suffocating feeling that I had when I was
frozen.    I don't know which was worse- suffocating in a
block of ice and freezing cold, or suffocating underwater
while water is filling up my lungs and a strong hand is
squeezing on my neck.  Neither one is pleasant.
	The ninja must have decided that suffocation was not
the best way to destroy me, or maybe he just wanted to let
me suffer longer, because after about twenty seconds he
pulled me up out of the water and began to beat me further. 
I caught another glimpse of myself as he was yanking on my
neck.  A considerable amount of blood had been washed away,
but I still looked like a horrible mess.  I just hoped that
Ouji would not be the one to find my bloody corpse.  After
inflicting more pain than the average man could take, the
ninja tossed my almost-dead body on the ground in front of
him.  He seemed satisfied with his work, because he slowly
approached me and pulled me to my feet.  
	"Why. . . are you. . . .  doing this. . . . ?" my weak
voice slurred those final words.
	"Because, Scorpion, it is my job,"
	I had no time whatsoever to take in his words.  I felt
the most pain I had ever felt in my life as my head was
ripped from my shoulders.

Next. . . . .  Resurrection--part II in "The Scorpion Saga."
Jonathan