He was falling, falling forever. Falling from nothing to nowhere. He fell farther than from the Empire State Building. Farther than from the surface to the Hollow Earth. Farther than any creature could fall and survive. Not even his rival could survive this drop. And yet.
The 8th Wonder of the World cratered into the red, cracked landscape. His body should have been pulverized. His bones dusted. His organs liquified. The velocity of his fall should have stripped his flesh free to scatter and glide like a hellish kite. And yet.
Kong was winded. The dim cavernous glow searing his vision after a lifetime of traveling through inescapable blackness, making them water with moisture enough to supply a small village, Faint sounds like half realized memories dance just outside of Kong’s grasp, even as strange miasma invade his nose and cause his hackles to rise. With agility and swiftness begrudging his mountainous form, Kong rolled to his feet, his massive fists pounding the floor. Kong snorted tensely, but no challenger presented before him. Rather there was a massive gate, towering over Kong’s own gigantic form. Carved above the rusted iron gates was a warning to any wayward soul, though not one Kong could read, nor would he hesitate if he could read the message. It was simply not of consequence to the king.
Kong rose to his full height and roared at the gates, beating his tank-like chest. Nothing on the other side of the gate reacted in any way. His open challenge ignored or befallen upon deaf ears. With a snort of annoyance Kong raised massive ham fists and began to pummel the gates with a reverberating iron bellow, a sound like Hell’s bell ringing in the entrance of a mighty king.
WAM!!!
WAM!!!
WAM!!!
Rust flakes rain down and massive dents appear as the gates shudder under the unbelievable force. With a skull-piercing shriek the corruption ruled hinges, each one taller than the tallest man, finally give way to a power they cannot compel to remain outside. As he pushed his way through he was met with one of the last sights he ever desired to see again. A city. A massive human city expanding into the distance. No signs of life. No tiny humans scurrying and screaming at his feet. No flying things. Just a smell of filth, waste, pollution. Decay. Despite himself Kong feels uneasy. Buildings with black windows look down on Kong like giant eldritch things with dozens of soulless eyes. The absolute silence is the hush of a predator stalking a forest of soft prey animals. Not afraid of him though. Either there were truly no creatures to take notice of his thunderous steps on the cracked pavement, or else there was something hungry lurking about.
Kong roared again, an open challenge that echoed through the dead city unanswered. Snorting with frustration, Kong began to climb one of the tall buildings to get a better view of his surroundings. Peeking into windows as he ascended did not afford clues to his situation nor signs of life. From his position there was a pollution cloud cover nearly within reach, if he had cared to investigate the sky. The cityscape itself was illuminated by a dirty gray light that had no discernable source. On the horizon there seemed to be a wall and another gate, but no sooner had Kong made this discovery before he heard a faint noise from the clouds above, like mosquitos. Kong was more curious than alarmed at this sound. He had eaten plenty of insects in his life, both crawling and flying. If anything this was finally something vaguely familiar. What broke the cloud cover were not mosquitos. Instead it was multiple Curtiss F8C Helldivers. Something had finally answered Kong’s challenge.
Another sound ran out, not one that Kong immediately could recall but knew on some level that it meant danger. This was immediately confirmed as a fiery sting ripped across Kong’s back and part of his side, bones chipped, flesh and muscle torn open. His blood brought color to this world as it sprayed the building he clung against. Kong snarled with pain and fury, and something like relief. This was familiar to him. A challenge to his life, to his rule. He snarled his acceptance to deaf ears.
Kong swung a mighty paw at the passing plane, but like an annoying insect it skirted just beyond his reach, just as the second plane unleashed a stream of stinging metal across Kong’s back. This was rewarded with another roar and a reflexive swing that didn’t come close to connecting with the mechanical menace. Kong’s grip began to slip, and he shifted his feet for better purchase on the side of the building, using both hands to keep his balance. In this vulnerable state a plane swung around to nail a defenseless target, and fell for Kong’s gambit. Pushing off from the wall, the great ape twisted midair and slapped the plane from the sky like the annoying bug it was. Though it's mechanical nature did sting his palm, the wounds were much less serious then the fall Kong faced as he thrust out his arms, buildings cracking and groaning from the pressure as he grinded his palms out sliding towards the dirty pavement.
The second plane forced him to drop the last few floors and resumed firing on his unguarded chest. Kong howled as he once again slammed into the ground, the streets giving way to tunnels of filth… and worse. He barely felt the creatures that assaulted him, and felt even less the ones crushed beneath his bulk. Carnictis latched onto his back and sides, Weta-Rex crawled over his face drawn to his hot breath and Arachno-Claws tore into his exposed flesh. Kong attempted to pull up from the cratered street but found his bulk stuck, and his rapidly depleted strength insufficient for the task. Kong reached feebly around himself as the plane came back around to finish him off. His raw, numbing hand closed itself around a hefty chunk of busted street and concrete. Summoning all his strength Kong launched the clod of debris at the plane just as the sound of gunfire began. The Curtiss F8C Helldiver was reduced to dissociated components that rained down on the stretch of city.
Kong pushed himself to his feet with some effort, shedding rubble and parasites in massive amounts. He helped himself to some of the more stubborn creatures, which crunched in a satisfactory way as he popped them into his mouth like sewer shrimp. His wounds would heal. Nutrition would help accelerate the healing. He would need his strength recovered for the next challenger-- In the distance, between Kong and the far away gate there appeared a massive stage. Kong lacked the capacity to wonder if it had always been there but unnoticed in shadow, or whether it had materialized for his own contemplations.
Loud music began assaulting his ears then. Booming music. It gave Kong a memory of summoning drums. Spot lights blazed into sizzling existence, illuminating the massive stage in greater detail and the Kong-sized chains holding a misbegotten creature on display. A voice then played. It was also boisterous. It sounded like Denham, but cold. Lifeless. Mocking.
“You’ve always been the king of your world, but we’ll teach you to fear. Hahaha! And now, Kong, I’m going to show you the greatest thing your eyes have ever beheld! You were strong and mighty, a god in the world you knew, but now you come to Hell merely a captive. Gratify your curiosity, Kong. Meet Prometheus, the Ninth Wonder of the Modern World.”
A sound began then. The dull roar of a mindless crowd. Mingling sounds of horror, disgust. Hatred. Prometheus strained at his chains, more fearful than rage filled. Struggling to escape the bright lights and deafening music.
Kong felt anger building in his chest. He had been here before. But this was not the only reason he felt angry. It was then that two things occurred. Prometheus became aware of the tense, hulking Kong observing from the distance. The other thing was his chains dropped loosely around him. With the symphony of phantom sounds strumming a song of hatred on Prometheus’ radioactive heart, the lost son of Frankenstein charged at Kong.
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