Gangs from Another World (pre-story Part 01)

I wrote this story back in February 2009, and it indirectly ties into the world and the events with the North-Central Posse on the Capital World of the Felines. Fairy tales or fables told from parent to children often have roots in actual events. This particular story is passed down and its lesson is to remind children, no matter what that happens in life you are never alone, as long as you never forget.

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WHO AM I?

The blood was still pounding in her ears as she attempted to stand up on one knee. Something cold was dripping from her mouth, but the sensation quickly passed. She quickly looked around trying to ascertain her current whereabouts. As her mind raced to her last memory she dug deep and pulled from the slivers of thoughts that were escaping her mind like dry sand in the wind.

Her mind started to focus on what she was last wearing, and her arms, weapons, and equipment slowly went from a soft fuzzy blur to a nice sharp image. The last place she could remember, she was fighting an officer and his two bodyguards. She had just cut one of them down when the officer closed the distance to her and began swinging his battle ax which crackled with electric energy that was about the size of a pony in wide arcs. She closed her eyes trying to recall what else happened. A large dogrel, or werewolf, spun around on his feet, helicoptering the ax with a long wide swing.

“I thought he missed me with that swing,” she thought. She closed her eyes again allowing her memories to flow once again. Her slender body frame allowed her to nimbly sidestep the attack. She swung her sword missing his neck and only managed to nick his ear and take off some hair. Her second swing pointed forward as it went right into his chest and to his heart. As she tried to pull out her sword and it met resistance, she blacked out and ended up here.

“By the Ancestors, I’m dead!” she mentally yelled and screamed to herself. Where was she, there was no oxygen, no nitrogen, and no-nothing to make the air vibrate. Her mind locked up in horror as the gravity of the situation started to set in, before panic could fully set in her military training kicked in. she took a deep breath, as much as she could, to calm down.

A young boy ran up to her, her fist instinctively clenched up. He couldn’t have been more than 15-years-old. He tried to grab onto her, but she took a swipe at him with her right sword hard. The boy disappeared in a wisp of smoke. She remembered why she had killed to the boy when she was alive. He tried to claim her as his own when she was much younger. He tried to bite her in the back of the neck, almost making her fully submit. When he realized he missed his mark, she managed to reach for a weapon, a brick she recalled, and smashed his face open. Then she pushed him down the stairs where he snapped his neck and died instantly.

She was living on the streets at that time so his body was another unsolved mystery, not even worth an investigation by the commissars.

Her tail twitched as she looked down at herself. She was in ½ human, ½ feline form. As the humans or pinkies, liked to say “she was in halvzies form”. She has the grace of her full feline, or kill form, but still retained many of the human features.

“What were the stories they sang during the great festivals? Only if I paid better attention,” she cursed at herself.

Two more foes ran up to her, a pair of twins, spouting curses. She tucked herself into a ball and tumbled past the twins. As she rolled passed them, she un-tucked herself and spun around in place. One of her blades connected with the back of the closest twin as it hamstrung one of the twins. He fell back and she stabbed him in the heart. As he hit the ground her turned into a wisp of smoke.

The final twin tried to backhand her, but she parried the attack with her off hand. Her mind raced back to when she first meet these two. They seemed nice enough and kept to themselves.

Her mind raced back to the time when a recruiter came to her neighborhood in the ghetto. He offered her a new way of life, money, fame, honor and a chance to see the universe. Living on the streets she knew never to trust anyone or any offer that was too good to be true. She wouldn’t have even talked to the recruiter if that X-Roylie, a Royal born feline that was kicked out of his family, wasn’t there to vouch/represent and speak for him.

During her training, she accidentally killed one of the twins. While they were sparing he lost his temper and tried to kill her. She defended herself and killed him with a blow to his heart. The brother, seeing this, attacked her in full kill form without hesitation. His failure to keep himself centered and calm allowed her to finish him off with relative ease. Even though his cursing and foaming at the mouth she managed to keep calm, centered and zero out.

Now her foe was standing before her once again. The same mad look was in his eyes. Her sword went right for his throat as his arms wildly flailed around. He turned into a wisp of smoke, like the others.

“I must fight everyone I’ve killed?” she thought.

“WHO AM I?” said a voice deep inside her mind.

“I am a mercenary; I kill for the highest bidder, sometimes switching sides in the middle of battle,” she thought. She did her job well enough. Sometimes her company was victorious, sometimes they lost (and not get paid) and sometimes they showed up for a scrap and no one was there.”

“Am I going to be rezed?” (brought back from the dead) “No,” she thought “I wasn’t important enough to be rezed, too low ranked. No one will ever miss me.”

She paused for a second to gather her thoughts. “Why do I know, that I will have to re-kill everyone again?” She never attended any of the Ancestor festivals or even talked to a priest. There was one guy who she knew who was always singing praises to the Ancestors and how pious he was. Why he was working for a mercenary organization, she never knew. He was a full human, though she never held that against him. She never listened to him and always let her mind wander whenever he talked. She cursed herself as she tried to recall what he was always babbling about.

“That’s what I get for thinking that I would live forever,” she thought to herself.

A group of poor peasants appeared and watched her, staring at her with a long and foreboding silence.

“Why?” the group said in a monotone voice. Her mind drifted back to a different place. She was EVACing a group of colonialists in a compromised territory overrun by a bug-like race. Their transport ship was taking hits and she was ordered to jettison excess cargo.

“Why?” the group asked again.

“Because it was either you or us!” she screamed at them. They disappeared in a wisp of smoke. A tear ran down her cheek. It was the only action she ever regretted doing.

She clenched her fist around her weapons as she looked around. The once black scene was slowly transforming into something more tangible. The sky was a negative image of reality, a brown-like color. The places where shadows should have been, were replaced with light. The green leaves were black. She could feel her memories fade away faster than ever.

I never managed to do anything significant she thought. I never saved lives of anyone important or commanded armies. I was just a warm body. As despair crept across her mind like a quiet shadow across the ground she fought hard to remain about the waves of despair that were watching over her. The Ancestors have no reason to embrace me.

“Who am I?”

“YOU ARE NOBODY!”She looked around for the source of the voice but saw nothing but scrubland. Although she could head the voice still echo in her head, she also heard the faint sound of singing.

“What is going on?” she thought. At that moment a figure emerged from the desolate landscape. It was that preachy human. She couldn’t really recall his name because it was bad luck for mercs to know each other’s names. The concept of a long lifespan was almost unknown to paid soldiers of fortune.

His shoulders were lowered, head cast down and arms open showing he had no intention to fight.

“Am I going to have to fight you now?” she asked while her tail twitched in anticipation of his answer.

He shook his head no and began to speak. “I’m sure you are asking yourself if you killed me or not. Believe me, if you choose to, but this is a surprise to me too,” he said and then smiled charmingly at her. She lowered her weapons and looked at him.

“What’s going on here?”

“You’re dead,”

“I know that! What do I do next?”

“Fight….and if the Ancestors feel you have something to contribute you will be embraced by them and your soul will rest in peace!”

“I have no powers, weak magic abilities, I’ve never commanded anything more significant than a small squad,” She pleaded.

“Then, who are you?” He said as his essence faded away.

“I wish I knew….” She muttered to herself.