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[Fic] Corbin Wins: Fatality! [Fin]

Corbin Black

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The cool Arizona night air was refreshing as the black rider rumbled his way down route 88, the old Apache Trail as the it was officially called, on his way to a little town in the middle of nowhere: Tortilla Flat.

In the beginning, Tortilla Flat was a small grassy valley in the Superstition Mountains, with a babbling creek running through. Nature placed the Flat between mountain passes that came to be used by the early Indians on their way to and from the central Arizona mountains and the Salt River valley. The trail their journeys created became known as the Yavapai, or Tonto Trail.

Now, the place was a shit hole in the middle of nowhere.

The Godchild pulled his sleek, black Harley up to the local watering hole in the one horse town with a population of six. Hell, it wasn’t even really a town; officially it was a ‘community’. He slung his leg over his motorcycle and took in the crunch of the dirt beneath his black boots. Black leather was the order of the day for the biker whose thick pants shown miles upon miles of dust about them. No shirt covered his muscular torso but a heavy jacket that matched his pants. It was open and loose displaying his body and the black tribal patter that mantled his shoulders and neck, a mingling of ancient tribal and ancient Celtic knot work.

His face was obscured by the shadows of his long black hair that draped over his shoulders and as he walked past the gathered people they gave him a wide birth. Tonight was ‘fight night’ up here in Tortilla Flat and once a month for two days and nights the city made more in a weekend than it did all year around before they began hosting the events. The population went from six to six hundred for two days every thirty days or so and every underground street fighter with something to prove was showing up for a chance to win it big on the betting payouts.

A brawl was in progress as two mixed martial artists showed off their moves for onlookers as he silently walked past. His shadow, even in the dim lights, washed over them like an inky black warning… ‘I am better than you’ is what is said as the brawlers stopped momentarily to look at him as he disappeared into the saloon.

The smoky atmosphere and the loud, rowdy crowd did little to distract Corbin as he made his away through the groups of people on his way to the bar. His hand was gloved in a gothic gauntlet of full finger rings all linked by chains to a hand piece then finally to a bracer the covered his forearm. He tapped the bar with his index finger and despite the noise the bartender heard the summons.

“Hey there hon,” As if on cue she greeted him. The auburn haired woman had a country girl’s body that just had to be illegal. Beneath his hair the Scion quirked a brow as he took in the woman’s enticing body before rolling his eyes as he met a face only a mother could love. No matter how great she looked in a tan leather halter and skintight jeans, ugly was just ugly. She hesitated for a moment, only a moment, as the Scion’s presence washed over her. His Legend preceded him and something in the back of her mind told her ‘this guy is different’. “W-what can I get ya?”

“Beer. Any.” He replied in a raspy voice that sent a chill down her spine. He looked about the bar and the place was a take back to the 1800s. Sure it had seen its fair share of renovations but for the most part it had remained identical to how it’d been the day it was opened. Going to be a shame wrecking this place. he thought with a grin as his eyes finally found the purpose of his visit.

He could smell the sulfur and freshly turned earth that exuded from the large man who was soaking up the adoration of scant clad women that always drove up from the city and treated the fights like any other reason to dress like a slut in the hopes of finding a guy with some money that they could attach to like a lamprey. The man on the other hand was impossibly huge. Nearly eight feet in height and every inch of his body was chiseled perfectly into rocklike muscle.

No one else saw the guy like Corbin did, his eyes pierced the veil of Legend and allowed him to see the disguised Titanspawn for exactly what he was. All those around just saw an incredibly well built, tall, bald, black man with a gravely voice. At least for now… once the battle started he’d shed his guise and the people would know him for what he was.

In a moment that froze in time both the giant and the Scion’s eye locked from across the room. Now the massive spawn of Atlas could sense the Scion’s presence and the eitr that pumped within its hardened veins burned with rage. The scent of burning amber filled his nostrils as the sounds of crackling lightning drowned out the sounds of the music and conversations that were being had by all around him. Even through the black shade of his hair the giant could see the shimmering red flecks that danced within the Scion’s green eyes.

“Loki…” it grumbled. The ‘man’ stood up, his ladies whimpering their discontent, as he stomped over to the child of the Aesir. “Scion!” The giant man roared, pushing anyone in his path out of the way as his blood demanded he confront the Godchild. He was mere inches from the Scion’s face in a matter of a few steps, his breath was warm against Corbin’s face and a few strands of hair waved back with each exhale the giant let loose.

“I can smell you Scion.” He roared as the music stopped and the crowd fell silent at the sudden display of drama. “Aesir… child of Loki… I can smell your rancid God father all about you.”

Corbin tipped his beer back and took a drink.

“Tonight I find myself distracted with other things, Godling. So I’ll spare you a torturous death at my hands.” He calmed a bit, coming into control of his rage as the prospect of getting back to being worshipped flooded his thoughts. “Run away Son of Loki. Slink back into the shadows from whence you came Scion of the God of Cowards. Scurry away little man and I shall see you spared, for tonight I’m in no mood to deal with you!”

Half a breath later the giant staggered backwards clutching his forehead. Several feet away from the bar now he looked back in horrified rage as his forehead was split open and Corbin’s gauntleted fist dripped eitr.

“I ain’t little.” Corbin said softly as he stood from his bar stool it stood there astounded that a weak Scion of the cowardly Loki would dare to strike him. “And I’m adopted.”

“Amaron,” The Scion grinned as he spoke the giant’s name. “The Morrigan sends her regards,” he swept low in a polite bow. “And sincerest condolences.”

Amaron roared as he dashed forward and scooped up Corbin with out any effort and slammed him through the solid bar smashing it into pieces, forming a man sized ‘U’ with Corbin in the center. Spitting up wood and dust Corbin admitted he should have seen that one coming. He kipped up and immediately leapt backwards in an impressive flip as the giants fists hammered down into the floor where he lay just seconds before, landing on the countertop opposite the bar he leapt forward landing on the crouched giants’ back, his glimmering clawed hand locked tightly across the Titanspawns neck.

The more the giant fought the more pain it felt on its neck. It reached back to grab him, but each time it felt the pull on its own throat. Growling at the Scion and his damnable relic gauntlet the mountain of a man simply toppled backwards, smashing himself and Corbin into the old wooden floor.

The Scion grunted and coughed, wheezing for breath as the Spawn of Atlas got back to his feet and kicked him clean through the wall and out into the open, dusty street. “This is the best The Morrigan had to offer? Sending an adopted child of Loki to come finish off the great Amaron?” He laughed loudly as he stepped through the broken wall despite the doorway being less than a foot beside it.

Corbin stood up from his place in the dust and coughed again. His staggered slightly as he regained his balance and let his jacket drop from off his shoulders, signifying that he was done playing around with this guy. Sweat mingled with road dust across his tattooed shoulders into a gritty mud. His gauntleted hand glistened in the moonlight, five shimmering claws catching its rays in a blue-white reflection. “You kick like a little girl.” He said calmly. “I can piss with more force than that.”

“We’ll see, Scion.” Amaron ran forward and hammered his fists back down into the earth but Corbin was nowhere to be found as the deep crater formed where he once stood. Out here in the open street he had more room to maneuver and dodge his opponents attacks. Amaron felt the steely cold of the Raven’s Claw rake down his back. Corbin’s jump had taken him over the giant’s frame and to slow his decent the creatures back made an appropriate means of doing so.

He yowled in pain as he reached about clutching his back as best he could. Swinging around wildly Corbin slipped under his defenses. His fisrt blow crushed the bones of the giant where they met at the knee with a single thunderous strike as his ever-sharp talons sliced deep into his thigh severing tendons and dropping the behemoth to his knees. Amaron had been defeated, and he knew it. He hadn’t enough power to mend all these wounds at once and without his legs The Scion of The Maiden, The Mother, and The Crone would tear him apart as he tried to heal his flesh.

“Make it quick.” He said holding himself up barely. “I deserve at least that.”

“You deserve nothing.” Corbin replied as he circled the fallen giant of the earth. “You are guilty of crimes against the Gods. For that, as an acting protector of the World, I sentence you to death.”

Amon chuckled. “I’ll be back, Scion. We are eternal.” He painfully stood upon his knees and flexed out his chest. “Do it.”

Without hesitation Corbin smashed his taloned hand through Amaron of Atlas’s chest and withdrew the giant’s rock-like heart. Clouds gathered and lighting rocked the skyline. As Corbin raised the heart high a sudden flock of corvids swarmed about him as a bolt struck his hand. From nowhere they began encircling the Scion and the fallen giant. A few moments later, as the gathered mortals looked on in confusion and apprehension, the black whirlwind of corvids flew off as quickly as they arrived. The heart, and the giant were gone.

He walked over and picked up his jacket, rolling his shoulders to help it fit more comfortably before walking to his motorcycle and throwing his leg over the metal stallion.

“What the fuck was that!” A voice spoke up over the completely silent crowd, a man who was in shock at the insanity that they all just undeniably witnessed. “Dude, who the fuck are you?”

Through shadowed eyes beneath his ink-black hair Corbin looked at the man. “I am Corbin Black, Scion of The Morrigan. The son of a god sent to keep this world safe during the war.”

“What war?!” He shouted, still trying to make some sense from it all.

“The one that’s coming. Others like me are out there, Scions, children of the Gods themselves.” He told the man. “Rest easy mortals and do not be afraid, for we walk beside you, we are your guardians.”

The black stallion roared to life with thrown pebbles and dust as the Scion tore out of the town like a raven out of Hel.

Just ten minute before the town was a party spot. Loud music and louder conversations were heard everywhere between the dancing and the brawling. Now there was nothing but eerie silence in the small town of Tortilla Flat.

“Hey!” The voice of a lone bartender spoke up over the hushed crowd and suddenly every eye in the town was on her. “That guy didn’t pay for his beer!”

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