Beauty and the Beast Ch. 1
By Ring-chan

Shadowlaw.

A name associated with utter terror, unspeakable horrors and headed by an unshakable crime lord by the name of Bison. Yet, our story unfolds there, within the hidden depths of the Brazilian jungle where entrenched is merely one of numerous illegal Shadowlaw bases.

From this sweltering underbelly of crime, a story of love blooms. A story of one痴 courage that would help to save another, and the story of one痴 shame that would almost destroy another. It is the story of one who would learn to love another in spite of his fears, and the story of one who would learn to love herself in spite of her expectations.

It was a night, not so much unlike any other. So was the thought on the mind of a particular Shadowlaw patrol guard as he marched through that particular C-3 sector of that particular compound on that particular night.

The midnight shift has never been quite popular among the patrol officers of this Brazilian hideaway. Rumors have long been circulating about the Shadowlaw empire of the distinctiveness of this hidden compound. Rumors of a curse, a demon or other such monstrous horrors. And though Lord Bison痴 own personal aid has repeatedly denounced these "ludicrous notions," terror has earned its place in the hearts of the patrollers who find themselves working in the dead of the night.

The young sergeant of this specific night was no exception. He trampled his way through the dim corridors of the last quadrant appearing jittery at best. The very sound of his shoes against the invidious metal floor made his mind race with anxiousness.

As he rounded another corner and glanced down the final corridor, he was suddenly surprised by the sight of a shadow crouched by a darkened niche. Reaching instantly for his gun, the patroller stopped short, and noted with relief that the shape of the shadow resembled that of a dining cart and its usual assorted tray of utensils. He turned away only to be struck with one curious thought.

What would a dining cart be doing in the artillery and battery unit of the compound?

Behind him, the shadow shifted and elongated from its original humanoid form and from the unseen depths of nooks and crannies of the corridor a black-clad figure darted towards the guard.

From behind the black ski mask, blue, infuriated eyes fastened a ready gaze at the Shadowlaw officer as the attacker pummeled forward. This silent approach reflected a sleek prowess, for the guard suspected not a thing until the attacker swung a leg up high and neatly planted a heel kick to the side of his unsuspecting and unprepared neck.

The patrolling guard dropped. Not so much like an inanimate object, but he more or less crumbled, keeled onto his knees then went limp to the ground.

Wordlessly, the black figure kicked the sprawling body onto its side and searched through the pockets of the dark, sepia-toned uniform. The black-gloved hands found victory as they fished out a security key card. Under the dim glow of a small flashlight, the intruder scrutinized the card for a moment. Finally satisfied with the fruits of the successful quest, the masked personage turned to go.

But...

The figure paused. Turning a head back, those blue eyes narrowed and set a scorching glare on the skull and wings emblem that embellished breast of the offensive uniform. A gloved hand reached down to snatch a hold of the small metal insignia and with one abrupt, brusque motion, ripped it from the fabric.

One moment, the stranger had the insignia in hand. The next moment it was cast onto the ground. Instantaneously after that, the hard, hostile stomp of a boot crashed down on the pin, shattering it with a pitiful crunch.

Anger seemingly appeased for the moment, the attacker kicked the small metal remnants aside and lurked down the corridors yet again. Not too much further down, the intruder came across a locked door. The security key card was quickly pulled out and flashed across the ID panel on the side.

An electronic beep confirmed the registration of the guard痴 numbered code, then a small message flashed across the panel that made the stranger痴 blood run cold.

"Please enter systems password: " The message read.

With curses running through every thought, the stranger made a quick calculation. How long would it take to hack into the main system? Would that be comparable to just smashing up the freaking device, which would invariably trigger an alarm of some sort in the compound?

As those black-gloved hands reached for the ID panel, a loud shot rang out and the stranger staggered to the side. One hand instinctive reached to cover the bullet wound while another reached for the wall to regain balance.

Down the hall, the now awakened Shadowlaw guard fired his shots again, all the while reaching for his communicator to notify security headquarters. Within no time, a loud, obnoxious alarm blared through the corridors.

Now panicked and desperate, the black-clad figure darted down the halls with speeding bullets still flying from behind.

~~~~~~

Trampling, or more adequately stumbling, blundering and limping through the dense vegetation, the figure attempted an escape from the periphery of the Shadowlaw compound. Choosing not to turn back to see the flood lights flickering on in a distance, the fleeing stranger still could not ignore or disregard the obnoxiously obstreperous sound of alarms and sirens booming from the base, wailing promises of pursuers following on the trail.

Between bursts of frightened thoughts and silent prayers, the stranger spat out curses from behind the black mask.

"...can稚 hide from me forever... Bison..."

Those thoughts scattered for a moment as a harsh, thorny branch tore across the retreating figure痴 black clad arms, lacerating the fabric and gashing into the skin.

Merely gritting a pain-stricken jaw tighter, the figure scurried on.

"...track you to the ends of the earth... for what you did to me..."

Out of what seemed to be habitude, a hand reached up to clutch at the mask. The gloved fingers trailed around the masked jaw line and slowly traced up onto the cheek.

"...will every last breath I have... Bison..."

Breath was slowing...

"...I値l seek you out..."

Vision was blurring

"...with every last ounce of my strength..."

Body gave out... the figure lost consciousness in mid-thought, mid-sentence and mid-step. A soft thump sounded as the stranger痴 body collapse and landed haphazardly on a sloped trench bank, and then immediately proceeded to tumble and gyrate to the bottom.

There, that unfortunate individual might have remained until the Shadowlaw officers discovered the crippled body. Or perhaps, had Chance had been a gracious companion, would merely remain as the current state was rendered and died a slower, less agonizing death.

But that was not to be.

From aloft the immensely grand herbage of the jungle, another being clamored along through the trees, his movements, silent and dexterous, obviously native among the crude milieu supplied by nature. Perhaps he was alarmed by the boisterous sounds coming from the base, which he had so long observed with caution and abhorrence, and took upon himself to investigate. That particular night, he happened to choose that particular path to go research the commotion. And during that particular journey he happened to let his bestial, jungle-trained eyes spy out at a particular trail of trampled tropical foliage that led his gaze to a particular trench in which was nestled the comatose body of a particular fleeing fugitive.

Quite quickly, he descended from the treetop, requiring a minimum of assistance from the trees as he half-leaped and half-climbed his way down. There was no time to question his actions, or inquire of his rationality. Wrapping a coarse, furry arm around the delicate waist of the black-clad body, he immediately scaled up the trees again. He cast other look down and noted with satisfaction in the knowledge that the best tracker would not think to trace the fugitive痴 escape out of the ditch. It was to be dead end for any Shadowlaw searchers.

From in his arms, the still unconscious stranger murmurs something, and he paused to listen.

He was curious as, from the depths of an apparently fitful rest, the female voice murmured, "Bison."