Witchblade and the Destroyer II

Kyoruken, panting heavily, gazed at the monstrous gauntlet that had clamped itself onto her arm. Though she didn’t expect much to happen, she tried to pull it off with her free hand; it did not move, and she thought she felt the gauntlet itself resist her. Suddenly, her mind filled with visions of women throughout this world’s history bearing this gauntlet and wreaking terrible havoc with it. A word passed through her mind, seeming to cement all of these separate histories into one seamless tale: Witchblade.

As Kyoruken’s eyes, oddly, shifted color from blue to green, she grinned madly at the gauntlet and whispered, “Well well…this could be fun…”

“Sh*t! She has the Witchblade!”

The voice made Kyoruken turn, finding another man in a white coat standing on the other side of the crumbled wall; with him were two other men, wearing strange black armor and holding longer versions of the strange crossbow that had struck her earlier. The memory caused her left shoulder to twitch, causing her grin to shift into a grimace for but a moment. She turned to fully face the men and held her arms wide in welcome. She could feel rage pulsating from the Witchblade, and what felt like surprise coming from it as well. Once the manic grin had returned, Kyoruken spoke, saying, “Hello kiddies…do you wanna play with mommy?”

As in her world, her demented manner of speech, referring to her enemies as her children, caused all three men to freeze for a moment, which was more than enough in a close-range battle, but they regained their composure an instant later. The armored men nodded to each other and raised their crossbows to their shoulders, leveling them at Kyoruken’s breast; though she knew very little about crossbows, logic told her that these larger ones would hurt a lot more than the previous one had. Watching the men, she waited until she saw the muscles of their arms shift minutely.

And dodged both of the bolts fired from the crossbows.

Having stepped to the side the instant before they had fired, the bolts sailed past her and embedded into the wall. Seeing the men’s surprise, while the third cried in some agony from the noise, Kyoruken rushed forward, right hand held out to the side; she was glad the Witchblade had attached to her right hand, as she was not comfortable fighting with her left. When she reached the three men, she leapt, landing on one of the armored men. Bringing her fingers together, she made a makeshift dagger out of the fingers of the Witchblade, and thrust them into the man’s chest. Facing inhuman strength and demonic material, his armor shattered under the strike, allowing the hand to pierce his ribcage and heart.

Rising, Kyoruken started to turn towards the other two, letting a growl slip through her grin.

A bang, louder than any before, and an intense, white hot pain in the side of Kyoruken’s head.

Her body collapsed, dead. Yet, somehow, her mind remained intact. She sensed disappointment from the Witchblade, and felt it begin the process of removing itself from her body.

But what the Witchblade, and these men, didn’t know was that Kyoruken was very familiar with the concept of death, and had never enjoyed the experience. So, drawing forth the terrible divine power at her disposal, Kyoruken came back to life.

The next thing she saw was the lifeless bodies of the two armored men, the second having been killed by a strike from behind. The third, coated man, saw her rise again and had started running.

However, Kyoruken was now bored. She looked at her right hand, and found that the Witchblade had joined with her again. But now, she was no longer impressed by it; it had not protected her at all, and was ready to forsake her once she had died – at least the men she had fought in the past made sure she was dead before turning their backs on her. Disgusted by this gauntlet, she took hold of it once more and pulled.

She felt small daggers stab into her right arm, and felt that the Witchblade had no intention of leaving such a powerful bearer. And then, Kyoruken felt the presence of the Witchblade in her mind, and felt the will of the Witchblade force itself upon her.

At this, Kyoruken gave way to rage.

In all of her eons as the Destroyer, none had controlled her but herself. Many had tried, and all had failed. Even the gods of her world, the weakest of them still stronger than every human of this world combined, had been unable to control her. And now, this gauntlet hoped to do so?

Gritting her teeth, Kyoruken grabbed onto the Witchblade with her free hand. Spreading her feet wide for support, she pulled. As she had expected, the Witchblade fought to stay by stabbing even further into her skin, holding on with impressive might. Kyoruken smirked.

What the Witchblade did not understand about the woman it desired to control, was that the woman cared little for her own body. She had learned long ago that in battle, dwelling on injuries could become fatal. And where many soldiers said they were prepared to die for their homes, they still would rather not; Kyoruken did not care at all if she died.

And so, she released the Witchblade and summoned the strange dagger she wielded, a weapon named Kor, which, in her native tongue, meant “cursed”. With that in hand, she stabbed her own right armpit, letting a scream slip through her teeth. Before the Witchblade could react, Kyoruken dug in and slashed, slicing off her own arm. She, and the arm, fell to the ground. She picked it up and threw it to the side, so that it would take time to return to this body. Once it landed far away, Kyoruken took the dagger once more, and embedded it into her own chest, so the Witchblade could not, and would not, claim this body again.

Slipping into the familiar shadows of death, Kyoruken felt a smile float to her lips.