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 Sorry for the inconvienience people, but this page needs some major renovating due to less than recent events...and of course, my legendary procrastination, and my awesome memory lapses... So, below is a little something to tide you all over till I get my other stories back up - it's a short fight scene from my book. Enjoy... [ Prelude ] A large figure appears at one end of an old, partially destroyed, stone coliseum. His body reflects the sunlight as he moves slowly, checking the grounds for unwanted visitors. Finding none, he turns to the man who appears opposite him. He’s tall and thin, his body more wiry than muscular, but he walks with an air of someone who knows how to fight. He sizes up the first being, not impressed by his huge muscles, or the particularly nasty scars that run over most of his body. “You’re late Maekyl...” The first being’s voice carries out over the grounds, echoing from the partially standing walls. “Thought you might not show up, as usual.” Maekyl’s face twists in anger as he takes the insult exactly the way Phy wants him to. “I wouldn’t miss your funeral for all the power in the cosmos Aucks. We had an agreement, it’s time to settle it.” “Agreement?” Phy snorts, “More like a threat made by you and your little slut, or whatever she is besides a blight on the name of Dreadnoughts everywhere. You’ve bragged for years about how powerful you are, how quick you move, how devastating your attacks are. I for one don’t believe a word of it. You’re nothing but a liar and a traitor, and that’s all you’ll ever be.” Phy crosses his arms as he begins powering up. “I don’t have all day you know. If you’ve already forgotten, it’s the weaker of the two that’s supposed to attack first. So why don’t you get your one attack out of the way, so I can finish you off and shut your mouth for good.” “Your words mean nothing to me. You’re a freak of nature, one that never should have existed.” Maekyl spits on the ground, focusing his energy as he speaks, “I‘ve watched you fight many times Phyrexian. I know your strengths, and I know all of your weaknesses. You couldn’t beat me if you were twice as powerful as you already are. No matter what you try I’ll always be a step ahead of you.” He grins evilly as he finishes powering up. The energy around Maekyl warps, shifting to a different spectrum as his mind wills it. The ground shakes briefly as he moves, his 1000-pound body moving so fast that it disappears. The air around him parts as he passes, giving virtually no resistance to the blitzing Dreadnought. An aura of fire arcs around his body as he focuses his energy into his fists, then throws a punch so hard it almost dislocates his shoulder. He feels it connect before his eyes register the sight of it, and slams his knee hard into what he believes is the stomach of his opponent. Suddenly, out of nowhere, pain shoots up the arm he punched with, and his knee feels like a hydraulic clamp just closed on it. His eyes finally catch up with his movements, and he realizes that his fist is caught in the crushing grip of the other Dreadnought, as is his knee. He feels weightless for a second as his body gets slammed backwards by an invisible blow. He blacks out for a second from the pain, then feels himself flying through the air, only to slam into a stone pillar and drop to the ground. His hand is completely crushed, the finger bones have been driven through his palm, and the bones of his hand have splintered out of the skin. His knee feels all right though, so he tentatively stands up. The energy he’s wielding causes his hand to begin regenerating, the bones knitting themselves back together as the muscles and tendons pull themselves back into the proper places. Good thing I held back on that one, he won’t know what hit him next time. The thought runs through his head a second before he realizes that Phy is still standing where he was, not taking advantage of the situation. Damn him for being so calm. Phy stands still, having barely touched his power base to counter that last attack. He allows his senses to scan Maekyl’s energy signature, seeing if he had used all the speed and strength he had on that last attack. If he had, it was already over. Good, he wasn’t going full out. I’d hate to have the fight over before I really get to enjoy myself, or before I actually get to inflict some pain on him. He senses Maekyl powering up before it actually starts. A little talent a friend had taught him, it seemed to be useful for a multitude of situations. Well, two can play at that game. He focuses some of the energy he’s holding, directing it into the spectrum he wants before using it. His mind forms the template of the attack, an older one that Maekyl probably wouldn’t have bothered to study. It was a safe bet to make, considering that it takes years to learn, even longer to perfect, and knowing all too well of Maekyl’s complete lack of patience. The energy begins to pool between his hands, taking its time to build up as usual. He decides not to rush it, as that can be more deadly to the user than to the target. Finally a small ball of energy forms between his hands. He scoops it up in one hand and lifts it skyward, giving his wrist a little flick to make it rise faster. As it ascends it grows bigger and bigger, till it collapses in on itself and repeats the process over again a few times. He doesn’t bother watching it, knowing that it’ll keep absorbing energy till he calls it back. Quite the nice little surprise attack. “Hey old man, you forget that we’re fighting already? I knew you were stupid, but I never thought you were senile.” Maekyl grins as he watches the older Dreadnought toss a little ball of energy up into the air, a seemingly harmless occurrence, and blows it off as Phy wasting time. His hand finally finished healing, and his power up was far enough along for him to do some major damage in as little time as possible. Time was on his side, as it normally was for a Dreadnought of his age. All he had to do was tire out Phy and then hand him his life in a neat little package. Preferably a bloody and painful package, with lots of punishment. “You going to attack me again, or are you just going to sit there and grin like a hyena all day? Who taught you how to fight, your younger sister?” He was going to say something else, but Maekyl suddenly lifted his hands, growling some choice words at him, and let loose a flurry of energy balls the size of his fist. Lets see, 73 energy balls, charged with burning energy. Not bad, for a novice. The thoughts flowed into his mind as he figured out the most likely trajectories for the balls, and the easiest way to stop them. Almost without thought his own hands slam forward as the energy in him focuses into a different spectrum. His lungs fill with air of their own accord, and that air melds with the almost liquid energy as the balls get closer and closer. A dull roar is all that greets Maekyl’s anxious watching. The energy balls suddenly slow down, then stop dead as a solid wall of sound slams into them. The only warning is the dust being flung up in waves as the sound travels towards him. It’s moving slightly slower than would be expected, but appears to be gaining energy and speed as it comes directly at him. What was it that they said to do if someone used a sound based attack against you? Cover your ears and hope for the best? No, that wasn’t it. Get out of its path? No, too simplistic. Oh yeah, that’s what it was. The energy around him shifts, then creates a small vacuum of air, since sound doesn’t carry in a vacuum it can’t touch him. The attack wraps around his little vacuum shield, blowing out half of the pillars behind him as well as part of the ancient wall. The ground shakes as the attack moves off into the distance, finally disappearing as air friction kills its movement. He drops the vacuum, letting the air rush back in as he tenses his muscles, going for another good old physical attack. This time at full power instead of only half charged. Phy waits for the attack to come, knowing full well that he’s going to get hit sooner or later. He wonders if Maekyl knows that he’s still only brushing the surface of what he’s capable of, but doesn’t bother to dwell on it. What he doesn’t know will eventually get him in the end. His jaw instantly explodes in pain as he blinks. Followed closely by his knees, his chest, and finally his throat. He starts to cough up some blood from his throat, but is stopped by another blow to that area, followed by 3 more. Must be trying to cave in my throat or something, he must not realize that I don’t need to breathe like he does. He allows the hits to continue, making it look like he’s in severe pain right up until the time that his hand slams into the chest of the other Dreadnought. Maekyl feels the impact of the punch, but it doesn’t register until it’s too late to stop the upcoming onslaught. His body rises into the air as a second punch to the chest knocks all of the air out of his lungs. He feels slightly light headed as something grips him by the ankle, crushing the bone in the process, and slams him into the ground, once, twice, three times. Then tosses him into the air like a rag doll and punts him halfway across the old coliseum to land in the dirt in a heap. His ribs almost all broken, his ankle crushed completely by the grip Phy had on it, and his head bleeding from a spot where it got slammed on the ground. All right, forget about physical attacks, he’s too strong. No more games. This ends now. As those thoughts cross his mind he glances up at the sky, the attack he started earlier should be more than strong enough to destroy the weakling. Even if it doesn’t he could always use something a bit stronger on the fly. Concentrating for a second, he doesn’t notice the disturbance around Maekyl’s body, who happens to be teleporting his weapons to him from a different location. The sky darkens significantly as the attack rushes back to the planet absorbing all free energy in its path, and even trailing along a mile long tail of debris that got caught up in its passing. He plots its course carefully, making sure that Maekyl is directly in the center of the attack, which is where he will take the most damage. He feels something hit him in the back as he turns to walk away from where the attack will hit. Something warm flows down his chest as he moves his hand around to where he felt the impact. Antimatter. His body tells him what the weapon is made of a second before the pain rips though his body. He falls to his knees, losing his balance as everything starts to go black. He falls to the side, twisting the spear around almost completely as he lands on his back, the pain is so excruciating he can’t move, or even think straight. He feels his energy draining as fast as his blood. His only consolation is that the energy attack won’t hit him full on, and maybe he’ll survive. Maekyl laughs as the weapon he was given pierces Phy back, coming out of his chest a full foot. Finally, he’d be rid of him. All those years of being second best, of living in the shadow of the elder. Every time he would accomplish some great feat, Phy would have done something better. With him out of the way, becoming Overlord would be simple. Smiling really big he lay back down, figuring he could just wait till he had healed, destroy the evidence, and the body, then return without anybody being suspicious. Except maybe Trey, but she could be dealt with. Glancing up at the sky he suddenly realized that that little energy ball had become a huge black energy ball, over 1000 feet wide, and charged completely with a type of energy he’d never seen before. Oh no… |
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