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Origins of the Spanish Ninja:Tastes Like Red Wine	By : lilwitch Category: +S through Z > Street Fighter Views: 3420 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: WARNING: Graphic violence and abuse depicted in this story. Read at your own discretion! I do not own Street Fighter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 19
- 20
- 21
DISCLAIMER:
This story contains content of a highly disturbing psychological nature that may be offensive to some readers: including but not limited to abuse, rape, and torture/violence. Please DO NOT read if you are likely to be offended!
STREET FIGHTER and characters such as Vega & Remy are owned by CAPCOM. I own all original characters. I make no profit in this work of fiction. For entertainment only.
Tell me exactly
What am I supposed to do?
Now that I have
Allowed you to beat me
Do you think that we could play another game?
Maybe I can win this time?
I kind of like
The misery you put me through
Darling, you can trust me completely
If you even try to look the other way,
I think that I could kill this time
It doesn't really seem
I'm getting through to you
Though I see you weeping so sweetly
I think that you might have to take another taste
A little bit of hell this time
Rah rah
Lie to me
Rah rah
Lie to me
Is she not right?
Is she insane?
Will she now run for her life
In the battle that ends this day?
Is she not right?
Is she insane?
Will she now run for her life
Now that she lied to me
You always wanted people to remember you
To leave your little mark on society
Don't you know your wish
Is coming true today?
Another victim dies tonight
Rah rah
Lie to me
Rah rah
Lie to me
Is she not right?
Is she insane?
Will she now run for her life
In the battle that ends this day?
Is she not right?
Is she insane?
Will she now run for her life
Now that she lied to me
Is she really telling lies again?
Doesn't she realize she's in danger?
The little bitch,
She went and she told a lie
Now she will never tell another
A lie
The little bitch,
She went and she told a lie
Never fucking lie to me -Disturbed, "The Game"

The following week came the next tourney on my journey to the World Warrior's Tournament. Marc Antoní declined to tell me exactly where it was, though we arrived to the location by his lear jet.
The building did not appear to be much different from the last; another underground location fortified by brick and mortar. It was held up by a series of columns and small alcoves along the walls. I thought I saw some signs written in faded Spanish, still I was not sure exactly where we were. I had no idea why the need for subterfuge but, I had learned to stop questioning my mentor. Surely he had a reason for hiding the location—perhaps for my own safety.
I left the cage, blood dripping from my claw and the sweat glistening on my body. My heart pounded and my breath was heavy, coming off the adrenaline. The crowd seemed a distant blur until I took off my mask. My vision was only partially obscured when I wore it, but then I was in my own world. Nothing mattered but the fight.
I noticed a woman in a black veil, standing next to Marc Antoní. I knew without a doubt my mother stood there, dressed a short little black dress, hugging her body in a way that no one should have had to see, and her high heels; but true to her dramatic nature, what drew my attention was the fact she wore her mantilla—the black lace veil worn over a comb typically worn in formal events such as Mass—or bullfights.
My anger boiled; I grabbed her by the throat, pushing her against Marc Antoní, who then was knocked into other brawlers. They grunted angrily at him and he pushed us away, diffusing the situation behind us and I slammed her into a brick column. She grabbed at my hand, trying to pull it away. I squeezed and listened to her gasp for a moment, watching her face contort from behind the veil. After a moment, I let go. I had no desire to kill her...yet.
"What do you think you're doing here?" I hissed, ripping off her veil.
She caught her breath and rubbed her throat.
"I came to see you!"
My chest tightened, and a burning fire swept through my body. I saw something her in eyes I had never seen before—they were dark and smoldering.
She took my bloodstained hands in hers, kissing my fingers. Kissing them tenderly, as if I were God Himself. I shivered each time her warm lips touched my hands, my breathing quickening, and the blood rose from beneath my cheekbones. I wanted to draw away but something inside me kept me from moving. I stood there, transfixed, watching her kiss them from knuckle to tip, worshiping them.
A slight breeze cooled my glistening skin, bringing me back to reality and I pushed her away.
"My sweet bloodthirsty Prince, don't you know how proud I am?"
"Proud? Proud!" I shrieked, running my hand through my hair. "You went catatonic after I killed the man you called my father, you forbade me from fighting—even if it was for your life—and now, you're proud?"
"B-but Miguel was different! That was self-defense! I was in shock! What was I to do?"
"What do you want?" I hissed.
"Want?" her blue eyes gleamed back at me and she cocked her head for a moment. "I want you!"
I snickered and began to pace.
"What?"
"We haven't spoken in weeks!" she cried, "It was the only way!"
I spun around and faced her, my face inches from hers.
"That's the point! I can't breathe around you! I can't-I can't..." I turned away from her, my anger began to rise in my throat and I growled in frustration.
"But...I need you." she said softly, putting her hand to my shoulder. Her touch incensed me and I shoved her away.
"Is everything always about you? You are so selfish!" I roared.
"Vega..." she cried.
"You come here, dressed like-like a whore, tell me that you are proud of me, and you think that makes everything you've done okay?"
Her eyes filled with tears but I was relentless.
"You've done nothing but humiliate me my whole life! And tonight...tonight, was going to be my triumph and you've taken that from me. You've treated me as your precious boy but you wanted a man. If I cannot be your boy then you will treat me like a man! That's what you want, isn't it? Isn't it?"
Her mouth quivered, trying to speak. I could see how desperate she was to touch me, to find some way of easing the pain I had inflicted on her. I snickered, watching her cowering before me.
"I never meant to hurt you-"
"You crazy lying bitch!" I cried and she slapped my face. The pain energized me but she only made me more angry.
"Nothing out of your mouth is true! Nothing! You vicious lying whore!"
"I-I never lied to you, Vega! Never! I may not have told you everything but I have not lied!" she screamed, the tears streaming down her face. "How dare you speak to me this way. I am your mother!"
"For how long?"
This enraged her and she started to slap me again, but I caught her hand, crushing it in my grasp. I smirked at her pain and fear.
"You will not slap me again, woman, or I will make you regret the day you had me."
"Tonight I do!"
I glared at her and released her; she began to beat against my chest.
"Oh I hate you! I hate you!" she screamed at the top of her lungs in a horrifying angry screech. I knew that she did not mean it—she did not have the capacity to hate me—this I knew for a fact, and for as much as she disgusted me at that moment, I found her tantrum kind of amusing. Still, this did not keep me from continuing my tirade against her.
"You were never really a mother! You only pretended. You didn't want me, you wanted a lover! No—you wanted me for a lover!"
She screamed again and I shoved her away. She staggered back, falling on her bottom. I watched her struggle to her feet and dust herself off.
"I know. Don't you think I know? I'm your mother!" she growled. "You can't look at me like that and deny it!"
I rolled my eyes at her.
"Like what? What are you talking about, you crazy woman?" I cried.
"I see the way you look at me! The way you-you gawk at my body when you think I am not looking!"
"Oh God..." I muttered under my breath and rolled my eyes again. "I don't deny anything, Mother. At least I have told the truth."
She growled again, another fierce angry screech that sent chills down my spine. I was tiring of her histrionics and my blood began to boil. I turned away before I seriously hurt her, and began to walk towards the cage.
"Don't you walk away from me!" she screamed.
I saw her storming after me and I began to climb the cage, the crowd cheering.
To my surprise, I saw her, high heels and all, begin to climb the cage.
"Don't you dare look at me like that and deny it!" she screamed. "Don't you dare!"
With one swipe I could have dispatched her then and there, but it would have been too easy.
"Don't you dare deny me!" she cried again, screaming at the top of her lungs. I was certain everyone in the whole building could hear her. "Don't you dare, Vega de Cerna!"
"I want to fight and I want to fuck—and you can't give me that!" I yelled down at her. Her face was as red as her lips, an expression beyond anger.
The crowd cheered at me and began to surround the cage. She clung to the chain-link now, fearing for her life and I laughed.
"Shall I bring you a heart, Mother? That is what you want, isn't it?"
The crowd swelled and she looked down at them and back up at me.
"N-no-no...I-I already h-have yours-"
"Do you know how many men I'll have to kill just to purify you?"
I could see such horror in her blue eyes gleaming back at me.
"I know you want it. I see it in your eyes." I snickered. "I'll let you bathe in their blood when I'm done. I'll even let you taste it." Her face whitened and then turned a little green.
I saw Marc Antoní plowing his way through the gathered crowd, punching and kicking his way through until he had a path to the cage. I watched him pull her down and she screamed, kicking at him.
I climbed down, entering the cage.
A burly man entered after me. I donned my mask, fastened my claw, and took position.
"Fight!" the announced announced behind us.
I would make quick work of this brute, and show my mother the man I had become. I knew men who were larger were slower. This would put my speed and agility at my advantage.
With a growl, the large man barreled towards me and I dodged him.
I slashed his back and he screamed. I jumped and knocked him back, making several quick kicks at him, preventing a full recovery. I slid my leg out and he fell to the ground; I pummeled him, straddling him and punching and slashing his face. I slashed his throat and the warm blood sprayed my face and splattered against my body. I heard him gurgle and soon, he lay still beneath me. I caught my breath and drew my claw down his chest, cutting a large gash across his chest. I made good on my promise, reaching in to grab the throbbing organ and I severed it. I stood and lifted it into the air, the blood running down my arm.
Covered in blood, my body filled with adrenaline and still holding the burly man's heart, I walked over to the side of the cage. Marc Antoní restrained my mother in his arms and she screamed.
"Come, accept your prize!" I said, grinning at her from beneath my mask.
I could see her visibly shaken and trembling, her knees nearly knocking together in terror.
I reached through the fence and stroked her face, smearing blood down her cheek.
She broke free of his grasp, bolting out the door. I laughed and the crowd screamed and cheered at my brutality. I threw the heart down like a piece of meat and lifted my bloody claw into the air.
However, I was not about to let her get away that easily. I followed her out the door soon after.
The door led out into an alleyway and I stopped. I smelled the air and I could see the city lights all around.
"What do we have here? Such a pretty lady to be crying like that!" said a voice, bringing me back to reality. I saw two men emerging out of the darkness of the night.
"Please don't hurt me!" I heard the shrill voice of my mother.
"We haven't done anything...yet." and they let out a snicker.
"Perhaps she has some money on her?" said the other man.
A flash of light came as one took out a knife and I could see them hold it to her throat.
I could not allow them to hurt her, no matter how angry I was at her, so I picked up my claw and stood tall.
"Ooh! Pretty boy has a knife?" one snickered.
"Not a knife..." I growled.
I bounded off the wall of the building, knocking both men down and slashing them in quick succession.
I found my mother nearby, crouched down on the ground and sobbing.
She saw me and yelled, shielding herself. I knew I was a bloody mess and wearing my mask, with my claw still dripping with blood, it did nothing to ease her fear. Removing my mask, I then unfastened my claw and laid it on the ground.
"If I was going to kill you, I would have done it." I said after a few moments.
She did not move, still sobbing and I sighed.
"Did you really think I'd let you run out on me...again?" and still, she continued to cry.
I smirked, beholding the spectacle before me, quickly surveying the bloody mess of the men on the ground. I could feel my breathing normalize, the adrenaline still surging inside me. The ecstasy of the moment would not be quenched by her helpless sobbing.
I grabbed her hand and tried to pull her to her feet but instead, she pulled me down by her side, throwing her arms around my neck. I said nothing, feeling her nuzzle against me, the slight floral smell drifting up. I swept her into my arms and carried her back inside, finding my way back to Marc Antoní who had started towards the door as I came in.
I assured him that we were fine and that the blood was not mine...or hers. What was to be my ultimate triumph dissolved into chaos; there were brawls all around the room, the mob mentality in full force!
"What did you do?" my mentor growled in my ear.
"I told you! It wasn't our blood!"
Brushing passed us, he poked his head out the door and beheld the bloody sight of the men on the ground in the alley. Marc Antoní crossed himself with another low growl, something I had rarely seen him do. Turning back to me, I could see his green eyes flashing.
"We need to go—now." he hissed.
Marc Antoní quickly spirited us away. He told us very little about where we were headed that night, only that he was taking us to a safe-house on the outskirts of Sevilla, somewhere quiet and secluded. After everything we had been through, some peace and quiet seemed nice, even if we were still far from our stately mansion in Barcelona and the warmth of the night lifted my spirits for the moment.
We sat next to each other in the car that night, neither of us saying a word. Despite our recent brush with danger, the air was still thick with tension. Marc Antoní, no doubt also sensing the tension, decided that he should sit up front with the driver.
Mother chewed on her lip and fidgeted with the hem of her obscenely short dress, trying in vain to pull it down. I folded my arms and rolled my eyes; she did not look at me, just continued to stare forward. My anger had cooled some and now I was left with her remaining hysterics; it is a difficult thing to realize when you are young how exhausted you can be, or how exhausted others can make you.
"Will you stop!" I exclaimed after several minutes of watching her.
She muttered something intelligible and continued to fuss with her dress.
"It won't go any longer!" I snapped back.
She crossed her legs and folded her arms, her dress doing nothing to hide her body. Had I a coat, I would have draped it over her. Instead, I took my shirt off and laid it over her.
"Are you ashamed of me?" she pouted.
"Ashamed of you, no. Embarrassed! Mortified! Humiliated!" I cried.
"What is it about my body that bothers you?" she asked, still refusing to look at me. I could see her eyes still gleaming with un-shed angry tears.
"Nothing—" she looked sharply at me, her gleaming eyes piercing my soul and I could feel the heat in my body rise; I struggled to put my frustration to words. "It's just that, you are my mother...you shouldn't look like that..." I gestured at her, my heart pounded and I could feel the blood rising to my face as I observed her shapely body barely obscured beneath my shirt.
"Am I?" she snapped.
I took a breath and rubbed my brows hearing my own words being thrown back at me from our previous argument.
"You gave me life, so...I suppose that you are." I retorted and she looked at me.
"Is that all I am? What would you want me to look like? Shall I become a nun?"
I looked down. I did not know what to say. Of course I did not want that, but how do I explain that to the woman who I cared for more than anything that she has mortified me more in one single night than the entirety of my sixteen years of life?
"I-I know you hate me," she said, choking back tears. "But you don't know everything-"
I sighed heavily; leaning forward, I put my hands on her face, pressing her lips against mine. Her lips were soft, warm, and burning against me. She shifted in her seat and I crushed her against me, feeling as though I might break her. Yet, I felt her holding me as tightly as I held her; she pressed harder against me, giving me back the kiss I had stolen from her when I was younger and so innocently infatuated with her. She kissed me with a passion I had not yet known, devouring me heart and soul, taking my breath with hers. I was beyond hate, beyond mortification now—well, embarrassment would be more aptly put but I knew there was no earthly way I could ever explain to her everything in my heart and in my head.
After what felt like forever, I broke the kiss, catching my breath and I pressed my forehead to hers.
"I do not hate you." I said, "I tried to hate you, I wanted to hate you, and maybe I did—for a while—but, as angry as I was, somehow, I could not hate you. Hating you would be like...like hating myself. I-I love you."
She began to cry but for the first time in a while—at least since our fight, she smiled and happily kissed me again.
"I love you too."
We sat there quietly, but now at least the tension was gone. I looked over at her and she had a sort of peaceful look on her face. Now that I had a moment to really process everything that had happened, I felt anxiety tearing at my heart.
"Tonight...I realized that even though I was angry with you, I could lose you forever." I said, suddenly feeling quite vulnerable despite myself. "We've...we've never even been apart, have we?"
"Never—except these last few weeks." I saw the sadness wash back over her face a moment as she spoke and then she suddenly brightened again. "Oh my precious Vega! My angel, you will never lose me, ever. I will be all around you! The warm Barcelona sun on your skin, the red roses that grow in our garden, a breeze in your hair—maybe even the gleam in the eye of the girl you love..."
I chuckled.
"I will never love anyone else."
"Someday..." she sighed.
"No, I mean it! Never!" I exclaimed. My voice rose, my chest tightened and my passion overtook me. "You're mine!"
Mother looked at me, her eyes growing wide and then, just when I thought the silence would kill me, she laughed. My heart pounded and I felt my chest constricting even more.
"Of course I am!"
I blinked, somehow shocked by her admission, the air returning to my lungs.
"And you are mine." she said, taking my hand in hers, her eyes glowing with warmth.
It was clear to me that night that something had changed between us. I knew there was no going back from it—and I think so did she—she was a very clever and wise woman—when she wished to be.
TO BE CONTINUED...
I hope you enjoyed this thrilling chapter! Stay tuned for more!
- 19
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- 21
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Origins of the Spanish Ninja:Tastes Like Red Wine