Mighty Morphin Power Rangers fan-fiction

A hard rain falls on Angel Grove. Cruel and relentless, the drops feel like the pricks of needles stabbing into the damned who live in this city. Once a thriving metropolis, it seems to be perpetually under construction these days. There were attacks on Angel Grove years ago, but no one could seem to remember who to blame. It didn’t matter though, the damage had been done to the city and while times like these allow for mankind to band together, Angel Grove seemed to have lost all hope. 

A dark shadow is cast across Angel Grove – a shadow so thick it can almost be felt. The air is heavy with it’s wretched odor. It fills the lungs and can’t be exhaled.

This shadow is cast by the Z Corporation.

Appearing seemingly overnight, the Z Corporation established its corporate headquarters in Angel Grove and promptly bought up all of the destroyed land. Expecting lucrative contracts, the construction crews of Angel Grove (once the backbone of the Angel Grove economy) were denied by the Z Corporation. The official corporate statement was that they had their own construction teams that were non-union and that was what they went with, and so, the workers of the city were without jobs. And with the police department crippled after the terrorist attacks, the Z Corporation had vowed to protect the city with its own private security force thereby solidifying its power within the city.

Out of no where, the Z Corporation had effectively eviscerated the economy of Angel Grove and had made it so that the citizens were dependent upon them for everything. Never had they felt so powerless.

—

 

Big Ern’s Dive is a cesspool of crime, violence, and filth. The dregs of the city find their way here because while the beer may taste like piss, it’s at least cheap and it allows them to forget the hell they are living in for awhile. In a city where the citizens have become powerless to affect any change, Big Ern’s is the only place where people can feel power. Deals are sealed with a beer. The alley out back is their conference room. The goods exchanged are almost always for mind-altering drugs to escape.

While the upstairs to Big Ern’s may be a world of whispers and secrets, downstairs hides the last bit of honor remaining in the city.

A small cage fills the dimly lit basement. Dirty metal folding chairs allow for almost fifteen people to sit and watch the fights. No one cheers. No one shouts. The fights go on in complete silence. This is the last bit of honor anyone has left and the crowd remains honorable to the combatants.

In one corner, Tommy Oliver stretches out. Easily the fan favorite of the cage fighters at Big Ern’s, Tommy has never lost a match and he’s been fighting so long that he’s lost track of his record.

In the other corner, a large, hulking brute of a man slaps his chest in anticipation for battle. Tattoos cover his arms and back, but Tommy doesn’t recognize any of them. They seem alien, almost.

He’s not worry about the tattoos, though. The tattoo man’s eyes are bloodshot. He must be on something. Tommy isn’t afraid. He’s never afraid.

One of the men watching acts as a makeshift referee and announcer. There are no rules to the fight, but announcing the fighters is tradition. “In this corner, at 5’11″ weighing in at 214lbs – Tommy “the Dragon” Oliver. And in this corner, at 6’5″ weighing in at 376 lbs – Kerrigan Fenris.” The two men touch gloves and the announcer quietly says, “Begin.”

Tommy and Kerrigan circle each other. Tommy is light on his feet and shifts his weight back and forth while Kerrigan tends to lumber a bit.

He’s used to just using raw power. Tommy thinks.

Testing the waters, Tommy throws a few preliminary kicks to the side that Kerrigan slaps down. Kerrigan lunges with a heavy jab that Tommy evades. And back and forth. Back and forth.

Anticipation fills the room. This song and dance goes on for what seems like forever as the two men feel each other out. Neither is in a hurry, which just works the spectators up into a silent frenzy. This is all they look forward to. The only thing that brings them joy is violence and pain and the delay makes them insane.

And like that it happens.

Tommy throws another testing kick, but this time, Kerrigan catches it. Using his immense strength, he takes Tommy to the ground. He reaches back to pummel the Dragon, but Tommy is fast and he is barely able to struggle up out of Kerrigan’s grasp. Grabbing Kerrigan’s arm, Tommy twists and pulls it back until he starts to hear popping sounds. Kerrigan cries out in pain, but refuses to tap out.

The sounds of muffled screaming and shouting come from upstairs. Tommy doesn’t hear them, however. He will snap this arm if he has to, but he is going to win. The sounds grew louder and louder until the door the basement is ripped down and a flood of private cops from the Z Corporation storm the basement.

Immediately drawing their nightsticks, the Z officers beat the on-lookers and start putting on cuffs. Seeing that the fight has ended in another way, he drops Kerrigan’s arm and decides to go down fighting.

With a scream that brings with it all of the hate and pain that he has felt since his city has been thrown into this nightmare, Tommy leaps into the flood of authority and lets loose all of his rage onto the unsuspecting officers. Blood and teeth litter the floor as Tommy unleashes the dragon within.

As the officers fell to Tommy’s strikes, another officer walked down to the basement. Seeing the destruction Tommy had brought, the officer readied himself for combat. Tommy’s eyes met with the new officer’s and in a flash, he made his way toward him.

Their battle was poetry.

Not even a case of attack and defense so much as a battle of familiarity, the two fighters couldn’t lay a hand on one another. They seemed to know each other’s moves before they happened. Seeming frustrated with their sparring match, the officer took advantage of Tommy’s exhaustion and became the aggressor in the fight, turning their battle into a relentless assault against the champion of the oppressed.

The officer took Tommy to the ground, snapped his ankle, then pounded his face into the cement. As Tommy was being carried out, he looked at the officer’s badge. It read “Officer Scott.”

And as Tommy’s eyes began to shut, he muttered, “Jason?”