Bad Dreams Ch.8
By Morlock and RC

A frightening chill started at Ken's feet and danced up his body to his brain, which told him one thing.

*This was bad.*

Ryu's eyes were blood red. At first Ken thought somehow that Ryu had succumbed to his evil intent and had turned to the Satsui no Hadou, but Ken had seen Ryu in the grips of the Dark side of Shotokan, and this definately was something else.

Ryu's eyes were red, his teeth were normal looking and his hair was falling limply over an old white headband. Ryu's dark counterpart had glowing red eyes, sharp fang-like teeth and hair that swept up somewhat like Gouki's. This was not "Evil Ryu". This was something worse.

Ryu had gone insane.

"...Bison..." Ryu murmured again.

Ken shook his head and said, "No, I'm Ken, you're best friend. Let me help you."

Ken reached out to help up Ryu, but Ryu grabbed his hand in a grip of insane power and strength. Ryu looked at the hand as if it held some secret. Ryu's head tilted up to look at Ken's face.

He saw the face of a young American man with long blond hair and...a smile. Ryu's face contorted into a grimace, and then he snarled something incohearent.

Ryu knew that smile. It was Bison's smile. That d*mn smile! It haunted him still. Why couldn't he leave him in peace.

Ken screamed in pain as Ryu's grip on his hand became unbearable. Ken gripped Ryu's wrist, but he wouldn't let go. Ken frantically hit the nerve cluster in Ryu's shoulder, trying to render his arm useless, but there was no effect. He heard something pop in his hand and he screamed again.

In Ryu's tortured and twisted mind the scream altered into a laugh, the same laugh that had haunted him for days. Following him everywhere and never leaving him in peace. He clenched his left fist in preparation to end the laughter. He knew what he wanted to do. He would kill Bison who laughed at him!

Since the first time Ryu had preformed the technique called the "Rising Dragon Fist", he had always shouted out it's name in homage to the great Shotokan Master who invented it. But now he couldn't remember the words and instead he filled his lungs and roared as he propelled his best friend into the air with the Dragon Punch.

*******************

Faces awarmed around him as did the screams of the dying. Some wept, some cried, and some shouted. All showed their hate of the man who had ended their lives. Him. Bison. Then the light that had bombarded his eyes and been painful to look at dimmed. The faces who screamed drifted away replaced by one.

This face was different. All the others were pale and deformed, but this one was vibrant with life. An aura surrounded the face and a body came into Bison's view. It was a strong body. It's fists and feet were calloused and tough from years of training and the body was muscled into that of the perfect fighting weapon. The face was cold and impassive. It showed no fear, or any other emotion. It's eyes were closed which angered him.

How was he to read this man if his eyes were closed? The eyes were a window to a person's soul. How was he to know what set this man apart from the rest? This man had done something to him. He was sure of it. This man was very important. If only he could remember why.

"Open your d*mn eyes and let me remember!" he screamed in rage.

The eyes opened halfway, only the whites visible, the eyelids fluttering. Then Bison screamed and they snapped open all the way and memories jolted his mind painfully.

He remembered the mountain top,

The roadside,

The Fist.

He screamed again as he relived the pain of the True Rising Dragon Punch and his own excrusiatingly painful death. Again and again.