In the blackness of his mind, the only thing that Jorge could latch onto to was the faint sound of laughing. But it was not a joyful laughing, or laughter that seemed to be able to denote any kind of joy other than malicious and sadistic. It was the type of sound that chilled the blood, splintered bone, and caused the very flesh to want to crawl and run off. It was so truly horrendous that even the bravest of police detectives would feel that ball of ice at the very pit of their stomach. Every bit of joy would be sapped from him and twisted into a decadent candy for whomever the sick owner of the laughter to enjoy at his pleasure.

With that as the only sound in the darkness behind his eyes, there was no wonder that Detective Cervantes was a little bit on edge. But that did not mean that the man was completely riddled with fear. He was cautious and tried to find some way through the darkness, some way back into consciousness so that he could meet that terrible, taunting voice.

So he followed it, forced himself to try and draw ever closer to that terrible, mocking laugh, and the sting words that followed:

”Hehehehehe! Heeello detective! I know you can hear me! I made it so that you could hear me. Do you know much fun it is? To peek into a persons head? To scramble things around and make them sees exactly what you want them to so? It is soooo much fun. Especially with my special brand of it. Hehehehe! You are in for such a treat, I really wish I could wake you up early. But that’d ruin the surprise…wouldn’t it?”

A pause…

”Then again…it is my birthday and I should get what I want, right? I always get what I want on my birthdays! Cake! Ice cream! LOTS of presents! Presents like a nosy detective , unconscious and left for me on my doorstep! It was such kismet! It had to be destiny! I mean…I know you’ve been poking around my operation, trying to spoil ALL my fun. But you get to make up for it now! You get to be my playmate!”

Another pause. Then a slow rumble started up and turned into another rolling wave of maniacal laughter…

“Heh…hehehe….HEHEHEHHAAHAHAH!!! It’s playtime!! We’re…going…to have…SOMUCHFUN!!!!”

Jorge felt that tickle down his spine but he didn’t stop. He didn’t over think it. Instead…he swam through the darkness of his mind until finally…there was a flash of light...

He then woke up…

With a gasp, Jorge awoke and was blinded by the light of an overhead light bulb. So deep was his gasp for breath that his lungs screamed at him, greedy for more oxygen. But the series of coughs that followed made it harder for him to breathe, to the point that he was struggling to keep his breathing stable. When he finally did manage it, he sighed as he placed his hand over his chest and massaged the muscles, trying to ease the pain from his lungs. It took a couple seconds but finally his coughing stopped and he could breathe normally.

Slowly he opened his eyes but winced at the brightness of that cursed lightbulb. It really was far too bright to be normal. Or maybe his eyes were just sensitive. Either way, his inability to really open them had caused a miniature sense of panic since he could not just sit here with his eyes closed. He needed to see what was going on.

Gently he massaged his eyes lids before she cautioned to open his eyes. The room was bright still but slowly it came into focus until finally he could squint without making his eyes water. His resistance to the light built up, little by little, until finally he opened his eyes all the way with a satisfied groan. Still sore but definitely feeling better.

When he finally managed to open them the whole way, he blinked when he realized that he was actually in a rather small room.

A glance down and Jorge saw that he was sitting back on a recliner, but one that was completely old, tattered, that looked as if it was ready to fall apart. The odd thing, though, was that he was not tied down to it, nor was he at all bound in away. Except for his sensitive eyes and the dull pain on the back of his head, the detective did not seem to be held against his will. But one glance at the tiny room and he could tell that this was not normal.

White. Everything was so, absolutely, white. Except for the chair it looked as if the room was new; freshly painted walls, a desk, a shelf (but no books), a computer (missing a screen), all as white and clean as fresh snow (no wonder the hanging light bulb hurt his eyes).

He stood up and turned to the only door in the room. That had to be the way out but what was he going to find on the other side? Guards? Thugs? Mutants ready to tear down anything person affiliated with the police? Automatic sentries? It was just crazy the possibilities. And, as fruitless as he knew it would be, he reached down to pat his pocket. Everything was gone (wallet, cell phone, his gun) all that he had left was his badge.

He was…on the job when this happened? Wait…WHAT exactly happened? The last he could remember…he was investigating…something…

Damn it…he couldn’t remember. This was not good.

But just as he set about trying to figure out how to get himself out of this room, he heard a click of the door and spun to see it swing up. Beyond it, he saw only more darkness, and a voice suddenly rang in his head…

“Come along, detective! Step into Level One.”

It was then that Jorge began to remember and he snarled as he spit out the one name he knew would be connect to all this…

“Game Lord,” he growled disdainfully. He knew he was in trouble now…

Game Lord…Jorge had been looking for this man for at least a solid year now. About a year ago he was called in on a case; one that involved a former snitch who was found dead in an alley. It led to a rather interesting encounter in which Jorge fought what many had described as a “video game character”, some female elf creature by the name of Lynk. At first Jorge didn’t believe it but after digging deeper into the case he found out that the person behind it was a criminal, a crazed, self-proclaimed mob boss by the name of Simon LaRourke, aka, Game Lord.

LaRourke came from the west coast and was mutant with a rather terrifying ability. It turned out that the man had a certain type of psonic power to manifest video game characters and/or settings into the real world. They were illusions but they were illusions that could definitely kill (as evident from the previous case). Rather insane by nature, LaRourke cut connections with his past and fully encompassed himself in the persona of Game Lord, a rather insane, child-like, and maniacal creature that took pleasure in torture his victims with horrendous mind games.

The man left a large death toll in his wake and now he was setting up roots in New York City. Jorge had been chasing the man for awhile now and he was just now remembering why he was in this situation. His location had been traced to a certain series of abandoned warehouses. The detective had only arrive to confirm the man’s presence and then call back to the precinct for back up.

Apparently he never got that chance.

That was why he was in the white room, that was why he was stepping cautiously to the white door, and that was why he tried to steel himself up for whatever came his way.

The darkness in the next room was disorienting at first. Jorge didn’t know how deep the room went, how big it was, or even if there was anyone else in there or if he was completely by himself. It was rather disturbing and a circumstance that he truly and deeply just did not want to be in. But unfortunately he really didn’t have a choice in the manner. There was no other way out of that white room and while he would have loved to call for back up, he knew that it was impossible. No cell phone, no x-communicator, no nothing. The man was on his own until he could get out.

Breath held, the detective eyed the darkness and peered about, trying to see anything in his inky blackness. He did not want some two-bit thug to get the drop on him now. Not after everything he had done for the MRC, not after just getting ready to start a life with both Gemma and Chase. He was not going to die here.

Fist clenched, he snarled a little as he whipped about, trying to orient himself to anything. Then, as he felt he gone on long enough, there was a suddenly illumination.

Jorge hissed and covered his eyes from the suddenly brightness. When he finally did caution to uncover them, he blinked…and noticed a lot of blue. He was standing in a rather massive looking space with blue skies…blocky white clouds, green hills and green pipes sticking up and out of a brick colored ground? Jorge felt his senses being thrown for a loop as he tried to make heads or tails of what he was standing in, but unfortunately his mind simply refused to wrap around it. This had to be one of Game Lord psychic worlds.

“Great,” he grumbled as he looked up to notice the word “World 1-1” hover in the air. “What the hell is this supposed to be,” he said through ground teeth.

It was as he began to step forward and suddenly he heard a rather strange sound. It almost sounded like a spring, or a pogo stick…or…jumping?

Jorge turned, trying to find the sound of the sound until he looked over to some brick blocks that were floating in the air and noticed a shape leaping, somersaulting, and shouting “Ya-hooo!” over and over again. The detective slowly backed up took a more defense posture as he waited. Finally, with another leaping sound, the creature landed in front of him.

The man, dressed in white shirt and hat, and red overalls, stood proudly as he twitched his mustache. Suddenly he grinned as he lifted his hand and, with a spark, fire formed in his palm. Jorge blinked and backed up as suddenly the creature hurled his hand forward, lobbing the fireball straight at him.

“It’s-a me! MARIO!!”

Jorge arched a brow.

“Mario?” he replied.

He looked at the VERY oddly shaped man and shook his head. He was not liking this at all. Obviously this was from one of Game Lord’s games but to which Jorge had no idea. The name sounded familiar but whatever he was from, the detective had long since forgotten. He really was not the video game type of person. Instead he shook his head as he kept his defensive stance, glaring at the vastly disproportionate man.

“Listen, um, Mario, I really don’t hav—SHII--!!!!” the detective leapt to the side and suddenly the fat man in overalls hurled a fireball at him.

A strange sound follow each time the man hurled another fireball and another and another to the point that the detective knew to keep running over the pixilated landscape and not look back every time he heard the sound echo out from behind him. He could feel the heat from the fireballs so he knew they that probably hurt enough like the real thing. But there was only so many places that he could run to. Still, he found one of those large, green pipes and quickly scooted behind it as another ball of flames smashed against the metal and fizzled out.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he remained behind the pipe, trying to look around for anything that could help him. There was no water nearby that he could use. If there was then he would more than likely have been able to sense it. Unfortunately he was feeling absolutely none of it right now. That meant that either there was no water around or somehow Game Lord was messing with his head.

Hissssssssssssss!!!

Jorge arched a brow as he turned his head. Where was that hissing coming from…

“Whoa!!”

Jorge blinked and immediately jumped away as he stared up at the largest, goofiest looking plant that he had ever seen in his life. It crept out of the green pipe he hid behind, it’s red, bulbous head was spotted with white and it opened his mouth, hissing and showing off its rows of fangs. It was like a parody of real venus fly trap or something, only this look far more dangerous than something that just squeezes bugs to death.

Hiiiissssss!!!!

It growled again, saliva dripping from its mouth before it suddenly lashed out and snapped at Jorge once, then twice! The detective gasped as he suddenly stepped back, side-stepped, and then rolled out of the way, trying to dodge the beast’s open mouth. It snapped shut on open air so many times it grew frustrated and reared back, hissing and growling even louder.

The detective returned to his footing and tried to keep himself loose and ready to dash in either direction should he need to.

“You are one…ugly…mothe—“

HHHHHIIIIIIIIIISSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!![/b]

The beast roared into the sky before suddenly it lashed out again, attempting to take another bite of Jorge. The detective dashed off to the side and soon realized that he was out of the creature’s reach. He took a second to breath in relief when, he noticed the plant inhaling and puckering its lips. A red glow could be seen from between its teeth and, suddenly, he felt things around him get hotter. This was definitely not a good feel.

“COME ON!” he shouted and ran off. Suddenly the plant shot its head forward and spit out a swirling, undulating fireball directly at him. Jorge ran as fast as he could until he managed to dive behind a series of those raised bricks that were littered about. He was ready for this to be over.

Jorge actually “EEP-ed” when he felt the fireball disintegrate against the low, brick blocks that he was hiding behind. These all may have been from video games, but damn it felt real. The detective really had no idea how he was going to get away with this. There was no water for him to exploit, he didn’t have his gun and, honestly, he doubted his hand-to-hand skills against such creatures. But there had to be something…right?

Hisssssss!!![/b]

Another fireball was thrown and Jorge fell back as the block exploded into tiny bits and pieces. He could not allow himself to be roasted alive! There had to be something that he could use here, right? Game Lord loved to play games, he cheated, but he normally allowed his victims a fighting chance. Damn it, if only Jorge knew a little more about video games then he could use something to help him. He could definitely use Chase’s help about now.

He scurried backward as the plant reared back and readied another fireball. As he readied to dodge, Jorge suddenly lunged backward and—

THUD!![/b]

He groaned as his head his something hard. The pain was loud and deafening and while it did daze him, he still had enough sense to roll away. A new fireball exploded against the ground where he was; he was definitely running out of steam. The blackened, charred ground was smoking so much that he had to turn away. He looked over to find the block that he had bumped his head against earlier. Though this time it was not brick looking, it was solid brown. And something actually hovered above it…

…a glowing, black, hammer.

Since it was not attacking him, he figured that it was there to do some good. So, he reached out and wrapped his hand around the handle, just as he was suddenly encased in a flash of white light. When it died down, he gasped and found himself standing upright, a hammer in his hand, and his back a little heavy. He glanced behind him to find out that he was actually wearing a black shell and wielded a black hammer.

He really, really had no idea what he was wearing ( it was a Hammer Suit), but he figured it had to be up to some good. A quick glance to the plant and it was rearing back again. Not this time. Jorge hopped over the block, dashed forward and made ready to throw the hammer. But just as he held it out, suddenly the copies of several hammers flew from his hammer and struck the plant square across it’s bulbous head.

Hiissssssss!!

The plant shriveled and gasped as it shrank down until it disappeared completely into the green pipe. Jorge smirked as he straightened up. Well…round one goes to him! Now…where was the fat man into the overalls?

“Wa-HOOO!” a voice suddenly called out.

Jorge spun around, awkward with the big black shell on his back, but it was still just in time to see the plumber plop down and ready himself to hurl another fireball. But the detective was not going to fall for such tricks again. Twirling the hammer in hand he smirked as he suddenly pointed it at “Mario” and unleashed another wave of hammers at the over-all wearing fat man.

“Wahh!” Mario leaped up, out of the way, and aimed his two boot heels directly on top of Jorge’s head.

Jorge barely had time to dodge out the way as Mario crushed the very brick blocks that made up the ground that they stood up upon. When he recovered is when the fight truly began. Mario punched and kicked with a speed that Jorge had vastly underestimated but the detective managed to maneuver his way around to keep from being pummeled too badly. In the end Mario had smashed the shell off of Jorge’s back, but the detective still held fiercely onto the hammer in his hand. He was not going to lose his only weapon in this twisted game.

It was not until Mario had misplaced a kick that Jorge finally found his opening. A sudden lunge forward and he rammed his shoulder into the mustache-wearing man’s chest and caused him to stumble backwards. Momentarily at a loss, Mario took a second too long to breathe. Jorge aimed the hammer again and breathed a sigh of relief.

Another trio of hammers flew out from the end and struck Mario, twice. One hit him, causing him to returned to red and blue overalls, another strike caused him to shrink, and finally, the last hit him in such a way that he actually leapt up into the air, and faded into a cloud of pixels. Jorge sighed and stood, staring at the spot the plumber disappeared from. He always willed the man to return. When he didn’t, though, the detective tucked the hammer into his belt as a strange music filled the air around him.

“Heheheheehe!! Congratulations, detective. I didn’t think you were going to figure the game out, yet,” a voice cackled in the air. In front of him, suddenly a small, brick tower rose up with a black door big enough for him to walk through. “So many fail to. Anyways! On to level two!”

Jorge growled. “I’m done, Game Lord! Show your face! You’re under arrest!”

“Ah, ah, ah! That’s not the way the game is played, detective. You get meet the final boss after the first level! So, come on, you want me, you need to get through level two…”

Jorge narrowed his eyes. He then spit with disdain off to the side before he stormed through the doorway of the tower, wondering where this mad man was going to lead him next.

In the blackness of the room, the first thing that he noticed was the smell: blood. It was the metallic scent that automatically made him check his nose to make sure that he was not having a nosebleed or something like that. But as he kept walking forward, he soon heard the roaring of wind, felt the bitterness of cold on his skin and even the smell of smoke mixed in with death. He was already not liking where he was headed now. Still, though, he pushed on. Though he knew that Game Lord was not someone to be trusted, he really had little choice in the matter. Hopefully the longer he could keep the man distracted, maybe that would make someone down at the precinct notice his absence. Someone had to find him.

Another couple of steps and Jorge saw the glow of moonlight up ahead. He really didn’t know what he was getting into but he tapped his belt and felt the hammer still there. At least he was able to carry the weapon over.

He peered through the opening and momentarily he was blinded by the light of a very full moon that lie ahead. He staggered, blindly for a moment out into the open and breathed in the cool, disgusting air. As he stumbled, though, his eyes adjusted and suddenly he gasped.

The bridge he was one was quite small.

The detective paused and surveyed his surroundings. Everything looked so small and fantasy-like. The stone bridge lacked a railing but was lined with spikes and skulls and various other evil signs. A volcano in the distance seemed to constantly be spewing molten rock while a large, heavy moon huge in the sky and offered light to this most nightmarish of settings. Jorge was not liking the looks of this. He turned and spied the opening that he had just walked through was now sealed with spiked bars of iron and steel. There was no leaving in that direction.

A glance down the length of the bridge and he paused as he saw another opening on the other end, only this one was not barred. Of course he would have to cross.

He peered over the edge and was nearly overtaken by vertigo. The fall was long and…were those spikes he saw at the bottom.

“You’ve got to be KIDDING me!” Jorge shouted to the heavens. This was going on long enough. Jaw clenched, Jorge steeled himself up and began to long walk forward. “I swear, I’m going to throttle you myself, Game Lord!!”

“You should worry move about me!”

Jorge paused as, in the opening ahead, he saw a pair of fierce, pale eyes staring at him. The moved force, slowly until a form walked out of the darkness. There, stood, another interestingly dressed man. This one looked like some undead ninja/samurai or something, decked out in yellow, swords strapped to his back, and dead eyes that still managed to glare.

The police officer cracked his neck to the side as he assumed a fighting stance.

“Really, buddy, you don’t want to get in my way today,” Jorge warned the video game construct. “I’m just NOT in the mood!”

The ninja laughed darkly behind his skeletal mask. As he stepped out past the doorway, suddenly bars sealed it shut that looked just as menacing as the ones from the other opening. Jorge was quickly putting it together that his only way out…was to win.

Standing on the narrow bridge, the detective glanced out of the corner of his eye and arched a brow…there were two floating red bars, one with his name written in it, and the other with the word “Scorpion.” Really? SCORPION? He shook his head as he turned back to his opponent.

“Get out of my way, last warning,” he muttered.

Scorpion’s eyed lit with amusement as he shook his head and suddenly raised his hand…

“Get over here!”

The movement was so fast that Jorge had nearly missed it. A sudden raising of the man’s palm and Jorge watched as a something that he could only describe as being a harpoon shot forth. The detective, a bit faster than he expected himself to be, twisted his body as quickly as he could and, thankfully, managed to dodge the pointed harpoon that sought to impale him. Sadly his movements was so jarring, and the bridge so small, that Jorge stumbled and nearly lost his balance.

Arms flailed, Jorge gasped as he forced himself to pull back and straighten up. Though all of this was more than likely part of Game Lord’s constructs, many people had lost their lives so such video game shenanigans and the detective was not about to add his name to that list. He breathed heavily, tried calm his heart but paused when he looked up to see that the Scorpion character had vanished from sight.

“Damn it,” he grumbled as he looked forward and then back behind him. No sign of the yellow clad ni—

A flash of fire and suddenly Jorge gasped as he felt a punch to the back of his head. Jorge tumbled forward, on the bridge, but managed to regain his footing rather quickly. That was a sudden and cheap shot! He spun around to see Scorpion standing there, his pale eyes narrowed in challenge. But before the detective could move, the ninja turned and made to flee in the opposite direction…only the disappear into shadows and another burst of flames.

Sh*t!! he mentally yelled.

He spun around and put his arms up to block (a boxer’s stance) and, sure enough, the yellow ninja appeared in another burst of flames, lunging forward for a punch. So the ninja was a teleporter who liked to sucker punch, huh? Jorge had blocked the move, which momentarily caught the ninja off guard which was all he needed.

His hands sprung out and latched onto Scorpion’s wrists. Quickly Jorge lunged forward and slammed his forehead into his opponent’s face. Pain and rage fueled him now, watching as Scorpion staggered backwards, urging him to jump on the attack. Jorge followed up his head butt with two extremely quick jabs to the man’s face and quick punch to the man’s bread basket! Each punch was hard, fast, and connected with harsh sound that would have made the strongest of men shudder.

Scorpion gasped as he stumbled down to his knee, hand held against his chest. Jorge narrowed his eyes as he kept his fists up, ready to continue to fight. He hoped that maybe, hopefully, the ninja was going to just call it quits. But he doubted that Game Lord was going to allow something like that. That was far too simply. No…his constructs fought to the death.

That was probably why, as Scorpion stood up, that his hands suddenly started to crackle with fire. It was only then that, as Jorge looked down, he noticed that the spot underneath his shoes were was beginning to feel very hot…

The yellow ninja laughed and scoffed as fire hovered around his hands before it began to erupt all around Jorge’s feet. The detective felt the miniscule flames licking around his leather shoes and practically melting the soles of his feet into the very bridge; apparently this man had far more powers than he was initially letting on. Jorge leapt backwards, wincing and gasping as he tried to snuff out the fires on his shoes. When he did finally manage to stomp them out he looked up just in time to see Scorpion lunging at him with a yellowed, diabolical looking short sword.

Jorge was quick to pull the hammer from his belt and, just in time, managed to swing it hard enough to deflect the sword. Scorpion took this as the obviously opening from a weapon-to-weapon fight. Jorge grumbled but had to go through with it.

Sword met hammer, sparks flew, but neither one of the combatants stopped to catch their breath. Jorge was not trained in weapon fighting so the most he could do was keep swinging and blocking, taking whatever punches or kicks that happened to follow through. It was getting so brutal that breathing was soon proving to be a little difficult. He gasped as he felt a knee drive into his stomach, but at least he managed to keep that sword of his from splitting his head open.

Another punch and Jorge stumbled…a bit farther than he wanted to. Hammer skidding across the bridge, Jorge gasped as he felt the pull of gravity bring him over the edge. A normal man would have fallen to his death but the detective managed to grip onto the bone-like spines that jutted off to the sides. He groaned and gripped them as tight as he could, wincing as he tried to ignore the pain and pull himself up.

However, the sounds of footsteps drew his attention upwards. He looked over to see Scorpion, casually walking forward, sword still in hand as he tilted his head to peer at the detective with dead eyes.

Jorge grimaced as he struggled to hold onto the spines. His grip was loosening and the pain in his ribs was killing him. But he was not giving Game Lord the luxury of watching him give up…

“Done already?” the ninja scowled. He then pointed the blade directly at the detective’s hands. “Ending you will bring me one step closer to my revenge!”

Sword raised, murderous intent in his eyes, Jorge took a breath…and focused….

Jorge could already feel it, the calm in his mind, the gentle, soothing feeling of water over taking his body. The fiery ninja above him perceived none of these happenings that went on inside the detective, as proved by the fact that he still loomed above him and arched his arm to bring the sword down with all his might. All Jorge needed was a couple more seconds to be sure that this was going to work, but he was quickly proving to be out of time.

“Arrrgh!!!” Scorpion yelled as he brought the sword down with all his might.

The detective chanced it. He lunged himself upward, with all his might and just as he was about to meet the sword with his skull, Jorge pushed his focus to its limits. He was either going to die or live…

The ninja would have taken satisfaction when he felt the sword sink into the flesh, only it was not flesh it sunk into…but water. The form of the detective, as he pulled himself up onto the bridge, collapsed into a spray of water as the blade tore through him. A few droplets splashed over the edge the bridge but not attention was paid to it. The majority of it landed directly onto the bridge and spread out, slithering away from the ninja, pooling and forming itself into the humanoid shape of a creature that was entirely made of water.

The elemental’s eyes glared at the surprised ninja before suddenly he lashed out with his massive, watery fist and struck it hard across Scorpion’s face. One punch followed another as Jorge moved into the fight, forcing the ninja to retreat backwards, step after step. Every time Scorpion attempted to summon more fire, it was doused by Jorge as he sloshed forward, his body churning with the rapid waves of water.

“Nooo!” Scorpion screamed as he stumbled back, exhausted, before he suddenly shot out that harpoon again. It harmlessly splashed through Jorge’s mid-section, prompting the watery creature to tilt his head curiously. “It can’t end like this! My reven--!!”

Another lunge and punch and suddenly the ninja went flying, sailing over the edge and into the chasm below…

Jorge quickly slithered back to his clothes, seeped into them and reformed (it was better than reforming in the nude). Just as he did, he looked down to see the harpoon and line it was attached slowly unwinding, following the falling body of Scorpion as he sailed down into the pit below. Against his bettered judgment, the detective was quick as he grabbed the barb and line and, as fast as he could, lashed it around one of the boney spines along the edge of the bridge. Apparently it was just in time because as soon as he was done, the line went taut.

There was a gasp and cry. Jorge leaned over the edge and looked down to see the ninja, flailing as he held onto his own line, hovering over the massive amount of spikes that jutted out from the ground below. Scorpion growled as he swung there, and turned his gaze up to meet Jorge’s.

“Surrender the fight and I’ll let you climb up!” Jorge shouted down to him. “I don’t have time to waste with you!”

A deep, hated laughter erupted from the ninja’s chest as he shook his head. His maddened cackles reached Jorge’s ears and instantly he knew that things were not going to be that easy.

“You show mercy! That is your weakness!” Scorpion yelled up to him. “Don’t you see? There is no room for mercy or ties in Mortal Kombat! Only one of us may win!”

“Bull!” Jorge shouted. “I don’t take lives! I enforce justice!”

Scorpion raised his eyes, meeting Jorge’s gaze so far above him. There was an second in which the two regarded each other, that offered a second of hope that maybe things did not have to end in such a way. But, a glance behind the detective and Scorpion could only lower his head. The pixilated timer had only seconds left…and his health bar was lower than Jorge’s.

“Then your conscience should be clear!” Scorpion yelled and pointed behind him.

Jorge blinked as he turned to look back at that timer that hovered in the air between the two health bars. Scorpion’s seemed to have the lowest bar. And, just as he Jorge watched the timer reach double zeros…the line went loose.

FATALITY![/b]

The word flashed across the very air and caused Jorge to arch a brow. He looked down into the pit again and saw, indeed, that Scorpion was gone. The line from his harpoon waved lazily in the open air so Jorge lowered his head as he untied it from the spine and began to loop the rope around the blade. He tucked that into his belt, as well as picked up his hammer which had gone skidding across the bridge earlier. He was already more than tired of this whole thing and he wanted it over.

A snarl on his lips he stormed towards the opening that Scorpion had come in through the first time. The bars were still in place. He kicked them, hard, and whirled back around to scream at the sky itself.

“What’s wrong, Game Lord?!” he shouted. “Scared that I’m going to win your little game!? Because so far, that is two levels down!”

The air said nothing in response. The cackling voice, the mocking tone, that resounded in his head the last few times refused to answer his statement. It was obvious that Jorge was striking a nerve with this kid, conquering all his favorite games, apparently. Of course that led the detective to wonder just how many levels Game Lord had put into this place. Did he even expect Jorge to make it past the first one? If not then that could only mean that the villain would get sloppy putting together the next one and the one after that.

Oh yes. Jorge was going to keep going. He didn’t care how many levels it took, but he was going to win each and every single one of them just for the simple pleasure of seeing the look on Game Lord’s face.

He cracked his neck to the side again.

“Your move, Game Lord!” Jorge yelled as he suddenly pulled the hammer from his belt, pointed it at the bars and fired hammer after hammer at it until the bars exploded into pixels.

“NO! CHEATER!!!”

Jorge smirked.

“So…you are still there. Game’s on Simon!” Jorge yelled as he stormed through the opening and into the next level that Game Lord scrambled to put together.