Tournament of Darkness: Tournament Begins

     Across the world before fourteen individuals green glowing spheres appear; elsewhere in special locations magic windows with green boards appear. From them a woman’s voice announces, “The Tournament of Darkness has begun!”

 

  After a brief pause she continues, “This tournament a mere fourteen fighters have decided to try their hand at becoming the rulers of the supernatural world.

 

   They are…

 

   Violet the Heavy Metal Dullahan

 

   El Chupacabra the Luchedore Chupacabra

 

   Slamrock the Pro-Wrestler Leprechaun

 

  Prof. Frad the techo Immortal

 

  Albia the Eldritch Spawn

 

  Hydera Dredge the Toxic Queen

 

  Gel the bubbly blue slime

 

  Apole the Divine Dryad

 

  B. Mai Valentine the Hive Queen

 

   Scale the lizard boy

 

  Athena the Centaur Goddess

 

   Luke the Swordsman of Time

 

   Spear the Blackwidow Goddess

 

  And

 

  Alana High Priestess of the Hyperboreans

 

    ******

 

    “You bumbling fool!” shouts Prof. Frad over an interdimensional telecommunications device he invented, “I sent you the coordinates to send all new specimens previously listed for my Caribean base over a month ago!”

 

  “S…sorry,” comes the voice of a frightened man, “I…couldn’t…to collaborate the machine the first time was risky…”

 

   “Now because of you,” shouts Prof. Frad, “not only is that new rare specimen of a human, reptile hybrid lost to me…for now…its now also in the tournament of darkness! That makes three…damn it…three specimens of mine that will become well known among these monsters, making it incredibly difficult to capture them privately!”

 

  Frad grumbles to himself, “I was supposed to be tracking down that Albia creature for my collection, before all this shit happened.”

 

  “Sorry,” says the frightened man.

 

  “Stop apologizing,” says Frad, “and don’t send ANYTHING until you recalibrate your equipment…or I will send a rift back into your world that will swallow an entire city in Dimension Mist. Am I understood!?”

 

   “Y…yes sir,” says the frightened scientist in his dark office. The very man who had sent Scale to the island in the first place.

 

   Prof. Frad looks at his monitors, the image of Scale sent to him across the multiverse, as well as his images of B. Mai Valentine in her enclosure, and Alana in her pod. Two of which know his role in their captivity, the third shouldn’t even know who he is yet; unless he’s made contact with the others as Frad contemplates.

 

    ******

 

    “Sir we are serving dinner now, would you like the chicken or beef?”

 

  Slamrock, dressed in a business suit, passing himself off as just a very short human has decided to take an Airliner to the Canada from The United Kingdom.

 

  He puts his paper down and says, “Beef will be fine lass.”

 

 “Very…good…sir,” says the stewardess, her gaze transfixed on a green orb of light in the distance dipping into the clouds outside as the sun goes down.

 

  Other passengers are looking out the window, saying things like, “It must be a UFO,”, “aliens man, you’ve seen the tv specials right?” and so forth.

 

  Slamrock grumbles because he knows exactly what that is out there, and exactly who it is. For not far off from the plane there is a flying motorcycle with a metal horses head up front that moves as though made of flesh, and spinning green flames in place of wheels, the whole thing decked out like some heavy metal biker fantasy, and sitting on this aerial abomination is none other than Violet the Dullahan, her head floating on the violet flames coming from her collar as securely as though she weren’t a decapitated apparition of an entity. She *whoots* and *hollers* as she dives her living aerial motorcycle into and out of the cloud layer like some skyborn dolphin, knowing Slamrock is on the plane, messing with him after her recent pre-tournament victory over him.

 

    ******

 

    In a Tokyo high rise office building Sharon is sitting at her desk while Luke stands before her.

 

  “Is something the matter?” asks Sharon.

 

  “Nothing mother,” says Luke, “I am ready to head out and face my opponents…its just.”

 

  “You’d rather not be a ruler,” says Sharon, “I understand, however being a king is your robbed destiny.”

 

   “My what?” asks Luke.

 

  “nothing son,” says Sharon with a coy smile.

 

  “Just one other thing,” asks Luke, “what was with that title, swordsman of time?”

 

  “Well…” says Sharon, “on account of your time displacement ability of course, and that time freeze move you have.”

 

  Luke raises an eyebrow, “really? But I have all these other moves, not that they’d do anything against the last three champions…which…”

 

  Sharon stands up her hair turns from silver to white with black tiger stripes. Her clothes vanish as if speared into the wind as white and black tiger fur forms a tuft above her cleavage, forming a bikini like bottom with a tiger’s tail sticking out from the base of her spine, and on her now clawed arms and legs but only up to the elbows and knees, as well as her ears becoming pointed and covered in fur. Her eyes are green with oval slits.

 

 

   “You are my son,” says Sharon, “the son of Shahara the tiger goddess, currently one of the three rulers of the supernatural elements of this world.”

 

   She walks over to him, he looks away blushing as his mother struts over naked. She smiles as she takes his head in her hands, “still such a little boy my son.”

 

  She snaps her fingers and a silvery metal bra appears over her chest, “there…better.”

 

  “Not really,” says Luke.

 

  “I see,” says Shahara rubbing up against his athletic frame.

 

  She cups her hand over his pants, “hard as steel.”

 

  Luke quickly backs away from Shahara, red faced, “I…I have to go now mother,”

 

  He bows too deeply, “lots of people to fight, honor, for your…your honor, my honor, our honor, gotta go, bye.”

 

  He is quick out the door. Shahara purrs slightly as she turns, feeling a squishiness between her legs she rolls her eyes, “damn, got myself worked up.”

 

  She strolls over to her desk and with a deep breath presses the intercom, “Gilda, is Luke still out there?”

 

  “No ma’am,” says Gilda, “Master Luke left pretty quick, I do believe he is already down to the lobby.”

 

  “Very well,” says Shahara, “Gilda get your pretty little changeling ass in here I need to get this out of my system or I won’t be getting any work down tonight.”

 

  “As you wish ma’am,” says Gilda, a mere few seconds later entering the office. A plain yet pretty in her own way Irish girl.

 

  Shahara in her feline glory is lying on her desk, one knee raised, “you got a good look at Luke on the way out right?”

 

  “of course,” says Gilda shifting her form into Luke’s.

 

  “Not the real thing,” thinks Shahara, “but should be enough of a fix…for now.”

 

    ******

 

    ^))&Mydaughter#@^7’

 

   Albia, wearing her yukata disguise turns down the dark alley as the shadows turn a soul crushing white, a white darker than the deepest blackness, a white that swallows nothingness and distorts space and time. Thrre white squid like tentacles emerge from the whiteness. They collide and fuse into a singular form, a puddle of flesh that extends into the air like water over a table. They form into a man in a white suit, a handsome Japanese man.

 

   The tentacles pull free from the body as though pulling out of some puddle that merely ripples as they leave. In a moment the alley is no longer the soul crushing lightless white and returns to normal, the man however is still there.

 

   “My daughter,” says the man.

 

  “Albiornesh,” hisses Albia, ripping away her costume revealing her true form, prepared for battle.

 

  “Come now,” says Albiornesh, “what can you hope to accomplish with that?”

 

  “Personal satisfaction!” yells Albia as she leaps into the air and pummels down her two upper tentacles knocking the head of the man clean off. His body however does not budge, as though cemented into the ground; not that cement would have withstood Albia’s force.

 

  The head melts like wax as a new on forms on the man, as he *turns around*, or rather his body morphs to face the other direction to face Albia again.

 

  “I merely came to wish you good luck my dear,” says Albiornesh with a smile revealing tiny white tentacles with eyes in place of teeth, and then the body just turns to milk and white paint covering the ground.

 

  “Weirdo,” says Albia balancing on her two back tentacles.

 

    ******

 

   Somewhere in Canada in a mansion hidden among the forests outside of an unbecoming little city there is a room made to look like eternal autumn. In here a woman sits upon a throne, the leader of the local Seelie court she is the Faerie Queen Maple.

 

  Before her is Apole, whose dainty form and flowing hair and garments, not to mention the fact she is floating off the floor could easily convince one she is the ruler here not the simple slightly heavy woman in the purple robes.

 

  “On behalf of the Seelie Court,” says Maple, “I wish you the greatest of luck in the tournament. May your light and grandeur shine upon us all and bring those of us who dwell in the light into the position of authority we deserve.”

 

  Apole is passive, no joy, no anger. She was invited here after all, and she chose to join the tournament for her own reasons even before then.

 

   Elsewhere on the other side of the city out in the forest deep in another mansion in a room that would fit right in at a Halloween attraction with its dead trees and skeletons, a woman in the most cliché possible raven feathers black dress and hair down around six metal spikes, not to mention wearing an atrocious amount of Goth makeup is seated on a black throne with Hydera Dredge before her.

 

  “I Queen Arthur,” says Arthur, “ruler of the local Useelie court, on behalf of all Unseelie here, pledge our allegence to you when you win the tournament. May your darkness spread the true glory of the Unseelie and return us to our place of glory!”

 

   Hydera Dredge much like Apole had been invited here after joining the tournament and has no actual ties to the Unseelie court. However these creatures pledging their allegiance even before it would become mandatory upon winning the tournament plays into her desires.

 

    ******

 

    In the Caribbean Sea a small boat (by open sea standards) is out further in open water than it should be, the boat is just large enough for one sleeping chamber and a cabin as well as several stores of goods on the deck. Hidden among the stores, there is a tiny passenger who snuck into one of the crates when it was docked at  Belize; El Chupacabra; who over heard that the boat belongs to the Foundation who are going out to make peace with Paramalia’s island. The orb he received showed two contestants there, and two on the boat he boarded.

 

   “Master,” he whispers, “I will gain many points this day, with the mighty monster mashing techniques you taught me I will defeat four opponents in the ring, one after the other very soon.”

 

   The two he is not so well aware of being aware of his presence on the boat are the glowing green dragonfly woman Alana, and a woman in tight black unnatural leather like material Spear. Who have decided that bringing another contestant with them, and a small one at that should prove entertaining.