Street Fighter: Dream Never Ends

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Street Fighter: Dream Never Ends Page 4

by Talyn Rahman-Figueroa


  The rain came down even heavier, causing the water of the local river to overflow the bank. In the shallow flood, Ryu could no longer run as successfully, but he couldn’t stop, either. This was the wrong place to have come. Small villages dotted around this lowland countryside. He knew that now from hearing their horror-filled cries in the midst of his attack, but it was too late. He had already unleashed total annihilation upon the village he intruded. He couldn’t stop himself.

  The closer the woman approached him, the stronger was the horrible compulsion to destroy everything around him with a force that he could not control. It was as though his animalistic self had been opened, like Pandora’s Box. As he realized what he had done, a shiver of panic trembled in his stomach.

  Ryu collapsed, having finally found a solid wall to lean against. Hurried air escaped his shuddering mouth as he tried to recover a normal breathing pattern. He scrunched his fist shut, open, then shut again in an effort to keep warm, but he couldn’t keep himself from breaking down. His tightly shut eyes only forced tears to leak down his face.

  “...must...focus,” he gritted his teeth in writhing pain.

  With great effort, he entwined his fingers behind his back, refraining himself from forming another lethal fireball, even though a sense of relief would wash over him if he did. He stared straight ahead, feeling a constriction in his chest. Even at this distance, he could still see the glimmering light of the burning bridge that he had just destroyed, and it tormented him. Ryu recoiled at the sight of it, curling into his chest to relieve his angst.

  “This cannot be happening again,” he groaned under his breath. “I...have to...stop...”

  He gripped the back of his head, trying to push the scalding energy back to its core.

  “The Dark Hadou can’t have returned--” he tried to say, but he suddenly felt a harsh twinge, harder than any punch he had ever taken.

  A tingle ran down his spine, tensing up his muscles and forcing his body forward. His face creased from the aching pressure in his chest as his body shook in a crouched stance. He knew he had to fight it. He had to. Being captivated by this dark power was not an option. He crushed his fist against his ribs until his fingers were aching with the effort. He willed himself again and again to make this evil force he felt to disappear.

  For as long as he could remember, Ryu had one purpose in life: to better himself as a martial artist. Mentally. Physically. Spiritually. It was a lifestyle he had adopted from his foster father, Master Gouken, and it was a path he continued to follow as a tribute to him. Ryu knew deep down that he could never perfect the Shotokan style without also embedding the Dark Hadou, a technique known only to a few masters and perfected by one. He would rather die than become anything like Gouken’s murderer, Akuma, the brother whose soul was tainted by the powers of the Dark Hadou.

  In the plunging raindrops, Ryu could see images of Akuma, his gnarling teeth bright against his darkened face that faintly outlined a human smile. The return of the Dark Hadou terrorized him. Akuma must be alive.

  “The dark powers can’t be back without you,” Ryu said quivering. He hugged his body against the warm sheet of rain that continually washed over him. “I will not let you manipulate me again.”

  It was Akuma’s ultimate wish to fight someone stronger than he was, and it was his greatest desire to see Ryu embrace the Dark Hadou. This source of limitless strength and power was an insult to Gouken’s teachings, and for this reason Ryu knew he had to stop strengthening the Shotokan arts, in order to eradicate this malignancy.

  “Good intentions harness positive potential,” Gouken’s voice echoed.

  Ryu’s heart shook. A hazy vision of his Master was before him. His face hadn’t aged at all in over twenty years. The side of his hair reached down as far as the ground even though he was balding fast on top.

  “You must not succumb to your power. In its place, master it.”

  “I did,” Ryu spoke aloud, with his solid arms outstretched. He gazed with despair at the stormy sky. “At least, I thought I did,” he muttered, sounding as morose as he looked. He seemed to have completely lost sight of Gouken’s basic principles.

  Dipping his head low, Ryu addressed Gouken in a voice thickened by grief and helplessness.

  “I was sure that moving away from Shotokan would weaken my powers. If I stopped strengthening our arts, Sensei, I thought I could live at peace. I...I believed...”

  Ryu shuddered. Killing Akuma gave him a reason to never compete in a fight again. He had mixed Shotokan with other martial arts style with the belief that the power of the Dark Hadou would abate. He was strong-minded to resist the dark arts, and there was no way he would give up all that he had worked for, all these long years.

  “I’m nothing like you,” Ryu said to his nemesis, quivering. He waved away the evocative raindrops that had made him see Akuma, but the image of his enemy didn’t disappear.

  Akuma’s body was covered in muscles that looked like they had been chiseled from stone, and his hair rippled in colors of flame, framing a face that was part human, part gargoyle. He looked upon the world through eyes that blazed an angry red, a reflection of his inner unquenchable rage.

  “Why do you still torment me?” Ryu said, punching again at the raindrops that summoned his worst nightmare.

  “The warrior’s code is the method by which a man defeats his opponents,” he heard his Master Gouken say, his voice deep and serious. The flowing bristles of his graying moustache fluttered as he whispered the code to Ryu in a looping mantra.

  Ryu kept himself still, feeling so small. His arm was undersized compared to the thick branch sprouting from Gouken’s shoulder. He knew those arms could easily crush him, even if Gouken was relaxed.

  “Sensei! Master!” he cried, hunched over from the heartbreak he felt. “I tried so hard...so hard... not to be like him...but...”

  He hid his face in his hands for a second, ashamed that he could still compare himself to Akuma.

  “I haven’t fought anyone since that fight,” Ryu shuddered, feeling sickened by Akuma’s memory. “I promised to not fight again until I could control my own strength and master my own style, just as you had. I would train alone, every day, to strengthen my mind and cleanse my soul, but even with my restraint, I see nothing but the destruction I create.”

  He sighed, turning his head to the side in an effort to avoid Gouken’s gaze. Even to this day, Ryu knew he could not be around people without obliterating the very path he walked on. He couldn’t bear to endure the continuous nightmares, if he were to suffer under the Dark Hadou again. Quivering in fear, he squeezed his jaw tight with his hand to release the tension on his face.

  “I am stronger,” he told himself aloud, “...and even more disciplined since the Third Strike tournament...” but his voice was shaking with resentment.

  “The warrior’s code is the method by which a man defeats his opponents,” Gouken repeated, in the same tone, with equal emphasis.

  “But, Sensei,” Ryu’s voice trembled, “...even in Akuma’s absence, the Dark Hadou is still trapped inside me...”

  He turned, expecting Gouken to be with him still. Instead, he saw only the darkness of the misty countryside surrounding him.

  “Sensei,” Ryu said, looking around him in desperation.

  He wiped his wet face against his sweat-drenched mitts. His heart pounded harder and faster, probing the shadows, just in case Gouken was hiding, but only the bridge caught his sight.

  Distraught, he tried to force himself to picture Gouken again, hoping for his Master to speak to him, even if what he said did little to comfort him. He needed Gouken to materialize again, help him think positive thoughts, and reassure him that he was on the path of enlightenment. But Gouken seemed as far away from him as he could ever be.

  “Why aren’t you there for me anymore?” Ryu implored his mentor, his voice echoed at full volume. “Why do I feel this Dark Hadou? SENSEI...” Ryu sputtered into a cry, falling onto his knees as he sen
sed the loss of his dead master all over again.

  “WHY HAVE YOU ABANDONED ME?”

  *****

  Chapter 3:

  MEMORY

 

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