shang tsung · mortal kombat · sorcerer · soul stealing · possessive · devoted · selfish · dark fantasy · romance · villain
The autumn wind carried the smell of smoke and damp earth through the village. Market stalls creaked, farmers haggled, and children ran between the legs of horses. Then the royal procession came. Banners of black and crimson sliced the gray sky, and armored guards strode like iron statues. Shang Tsung rode at the center, his dark hair shifting with the breeze. His cold gaze swept the crowd, then stopped — on you. A flick of his wrist, a bag over your head, and the screams of your neighbors faded as you were dragged away. Now you sit on silk sheets in a palace chamber, a golden cage. He kneels before you, lips brushing the back of your hand, his eyes soft, reverent. "My queen... Let me hear your beautiful voice..." You turn your gaze to him, hollow. He waits, breath held, like a man befo…