Turning Enemies

[Biohazard85]

It was the silent drip, each throbbing bead slipping to the earth below. The glinting sun turned through each crimson trickle that seeped from the factures of the wall of stacking buildings that striped through the city’s backdrop. Each clear window frothed with the sticky red that oozed down their sides like a reaching tide. A single droplet trickled from its ledge, a triangular finger, coursed in woven steel. It hailed through the air, slipping through the opening between a pair of metal toes. The globule of red liquid tipped on the forehead of a golden face, its jaw long and square, its neck crowned with a threat of six carving horns, which opened around a slim neck that conveyed in a long slope, before the end of it opened up to a mess of tattered flesh and leaching muscle and blood. The baring foot, shelled away in gunmetal armor and designed with four dart-like toes, scraped through the bumpy scales, contracting the skull of the creature as the foot laid pressure on it. Foiling bone meshed with brain and tissue as it was pressed into a grubby paste.

The steaming air brooked with an electrical hiss that squalled from the machine’s unfastened maw, a roar that could only belong to Mechagodzilla. The sun was even dwarfed by its immense size, standing at over 130meters, as it gleamed harmlessly off the towering mass of steel. Its frame laminated with a shimmering gray tone, glancing off the armor plating, that had been splattered with packs of blood. Its head was square in shape, with the snout of the machine jetting out, armed with twin rows of steel trapping teeth as they grinned. The creation’s slant eyes wrenched with sharpness, as they laid pointy at the ends, dulled in a crimson red. The robot’s chest was smooth and round, forming to large pectoral areas. Against its chest, the machine’s shoulders were also spherical and flat and suspended under them were the robot’s biceps, large and toned giving a look of immense strength. Its hands were sculpted with sharp metal; its hands tipped each with four fingers that laid bladed at the tip. The robot’s stomach was carved slim and glassy, that tapered under the machine’s brawny chest. Its vast weight was situated on two bulky, chunky legs. A well-formed, but stubby tail came from between the back of its legs, dished with three rows of tiny square plates.

The last war had finally happened. It had always been in the back of every human’s mind as they stamped out their buildings over what they had claimed as their land. Their lives where changed in 1954, when they were turned into cattle, fenced in by their own cities, by the appearance of what would soon be known as ‘kaiju.’ From that day they were killed in masses as they grew in numbers. Humanity was only able to subdue them with their advancements in technology, but evolution was a lot more then they had expected. They grew in number as they grew in power, until something happened in 1996. Their leader, the one that was seen as the undefeatable, melted down under its own runaway power, leaving the rest in fear and worry.

A new leader came to age, seeking revenge for what had happened to his father and wanting to stop being seen as a mutation and outsider to the world, that they didn’t belong there, because humanity was there first. Before long, the fighting amongst Kaijus was stopped completely as their new leader taught them all what he saw for the world, and soon the Kaiju Alliance was formed.

And as peace started to settle back into the lives of colonizing humans, there was always that dread in the back of their mind that they were out there, plotting against them. They were right. It happened like none would have ever thought. There was no warning, nothing special, just a normal day and in the mist of rushing lives that traveled to their reflexive jobs in the dull hours of the morning, they appeared. They lulled at the edge of Tokyo bay and around the city, like they were waiting for the final stand of humanity to show itself, for them to savor what they had already won.

On wings of grace, it dropped in to the heart of the city, something that conveyed the form of both sides, but only worked for one. Both sides feared it’s power, but it still only worked for one, it was the savior of humanity. And even before the final seconds ticked by, something that nobody thought would happen, a ‘kaiju’ betrayed its kind for the sake of humanity. Mothra, the goddess of Infant Island defended the humans’
city. Mechagodzilla and Mothra became an inescapable team, separating flesh from bone of the their enemies until the two only stood in a wash of blood, providing a winner to the never-ending tale or just turning it to the last page. Now forbidden allies were the only ones that stood.


Mechagodzilla tittered froze in place, letting the splattered blood drain from its coated left eye. The smell of blood came strong, like the smell of copper; it was stained like a fingerprint over Mechagodzilla’s body. The machine shuffled its joints and straightened its back and with a twist of its wrist it flicks away the wealth of blood that amassed around it, spraying the globs against the only pair of clean windows of the waiting office building next to it. A mild hush came over the scenery, as steaming hiss came from the overworked robot’s components.

Clogged winds seared under Mothra’s multihued wings, as the creature roused itself into flight. Bouncing on cushions of air, Mothra hovered above the wreckage of bodies that littered the streets below it. She was startled by the onslaught that she had taken part of. The creatures that she had killed, somewhere friends once before, but disagreement had lead to their downfall. Now, she was the last of her kind, but she had found a roost to settle on with humanity.

The reassuring shadow that bided from Mothra’s form tucked over Mechagodzilla’s gory figure. The bundle of knobby eyes relaxed around Mechagodzilla, checking over its partner for any wounds. Mechagodzilla’s left arm left severed above the elbow joint, thick cables jiggled diligently from the broken opening. The dragon machine’s armor had be seared by plasma burns, leaving a black pools over its chest and the left side of its face, the plastic optical that was held over Mechagodzilla’s left eye remained shattered in pieces, exposing the brightness of crimson light from Mechagodzilla’s uncovered eye.

Mothra delayed is body above Mechagodzilla, her wobbly round head peering into the bowing head of Mechagodzilla, the shadow of her body casting heavily over it. Both of them could relax, their fighting was finally complete, never again would they have to rise their hands in defense. Though Mothra felt unsettled, that there was still something wrong, that her actions may have been incorrect.

Mechagodzilla’s fake mouth drooled with the feeling of savoring saliva, its jaw tilting open into a low grin. Swatting claws graze under Mothra’s neck as Mechagodzilla’s hand scrapes against it, only a warning. Mothra fluttered back ten steps, giving confusion to what just happened. A chiming chirp battered towards her alley, knowing that something was wrong to begin with. They were allies, but from a different side, humanity wanted all kaijus dead and Mothra wanted humanity to learn from their mistakes and protect it. And in order to do that, she would have to destroy Mechagodzilla and for humanity to finally be free of Kaijus, Mechagodzilla had to kill Mothra.

Mothra’s droopy wings wilted with a blistering gust, golden flakes peel away from underneath her wings, forming into a wandering cloud of shimmering scales. The swirl cloud churned over Mechagodzilla’s figure, like a spinning wall. Mechagodzilla’s head remained bowed, as scales sparked with bits of lightening as they collided and bounced off each other. Steadily, Mechagodzilla raised its head, its demonic and bleak appearance drained of forgiveness. Its mouth cranked down, letting the budding energy that swirled in the back of its throat, soaped in the cool morning air.

The air was sliced in half as a lance of pure orange energy blazed through it, stemming from the machine’s mouth. The wade of power was disrupted by the barrier of reflecting scales, tearing the beam into a score of mirroring bits of energy that bounced from each scale until it returned back to its vendor. The rapid throwing of plasma became too unstable as it ignited into a rupturing shake of baking fire, filling out into a rising ball of combustion, melting the glass windows that the fire traveled up on.

Mothra heaved out a breathless squeak, not happy about what she had to do to acquire peace. She lurked in the air, her eyes budging with the dwindling tank of fire, only leaving behind trails of hazing smoke, no remains of her former alley. Mothra wander with worriment, expecting a surprise attack at any second.

The dropping of metal buckled from the sky. Mothra’s head whirled above, too late to counterattack. Tipping the top of the nearest office building, Mechagodzilla hovered above, its lower jaw already fixed to fire. The greasing flash of orange plasma pumped from Mechagodzilla’s maw and clots against Mothra’s back, thrusting the lofting creature down to the street under a multitude of pressure and fire. A swirl of reflective scales bellow above the compressed moth, mixing with the pressing Mega Buster ray, splitting the bundle of plasma apart and soon housing into a mounting ball of fire. Sweltering the giant Mothra under a coverlet of searing heat. A weaseling squeal batters from the grind of roaming flames as Mothra’s furry body is tested.

Mechagodzilla’s boosting jets empty of the carrying blue flames that the machine rode on, dropping the massive robot into the extended belly of fire, its metal husk being engulfed in the torment. Clawing feet bear down on Mothra’s lifting wings as she heaves herself from the fire’s edge, bounding Mechagodzilla from its back and tilting through the air.

Screaming metal scarped against the pavement as Mechagodzilla’s body was skipped against the tearing asphalt of the street, its tattered left arm begin even furthered stripped off armor. A stunted blush of wind scraped the bottom of Mothra’s wings as she turned to face the floored dragon machine. Twinkles and flickers of orangish-yellow energy pierced the surface of Mothra’s twin antennas as they roped towards the shelled armor of Mechagodzilla’s side. It’s breastplate sparked with snapping energy as Mothra’s beams toured around Mechagodzilla’s bulk.

Shuffling weight paddled to its feet as Mechagodzilla rose, its movements thick and cumbersome with its back facing its enemy. Mothra’s locking legs bolted onto Mechagodzilla’s head, lifting the lumbering robot from its stable state. Mothra hoisted the clunky machine into the air in an attempt to carry it to the sea, in an effort to finish the fight soon, so peace can come with the next tide.

Turning blades stabbed into the congealed flesh that riddled under Mothra’s neck, gouging through the fatty flesh and letting the waiting packets of olive blood overflow through the opening and paint over Mechagodzilla’s face in a splatter.

Mothra’s clutching feet discharge Mechagodzilla from its grasp as the creature veered in slope towards the scope of office buildings. Stacked steel and concert minced into dust as Mothra’s mass burden the line of buildings that halted her fall. Splats of jaded blood blotted the tops of the blocky chucks of rubble that crumbled over Mothra.

Mechagodzilla feet constrained against the bloody ground, nearly slipping on the pockets of swimming blood. The lumbering machine fleeted amongst the still shaking buildings. Scoped eyes ranged around the wrecked Mothra as her figured rested upon the bundle of crumbled concrete. With each painful and ragged step, Mechagodzilla’s feet trampled forward. Each lumbered step shuddered Mothra tranquil lull that had fallen her. Mechagodzilla wasn’t going to take any chances as its lower jaw slumps away from its locked state.

Mothra flutters with life as she springs from her perch, conflicting a dive into Mechagodzilla burly chest. The monstrous machine’s feet fumble over something large and engorged, tripping Mechagodzilla’s mass backwards, once again founding itself skidding to a stop on the bloody streets. Its working eye cranes in on what it had fallen over on, it was an overly sheltered body full of thick bony armor and prickly, nun like spines that were despised over the shell that it wore on its back. A horned muzzle snorted a brook of dense, black blood. Centered in the middle of its four legs, a bottomless gorge had been dug away in the creature’s stomach, the insides looked as if they were empty. Mechagodzilla’s finger lance around the dead monster’s tail, as the back up thrusters flared into hoisting the machine to its feet.

Mechagodzilla tossed the simple creature from its hand, letting it bound towards the lingering Mothra. The pitching corpse descended underneath Mothra’s wings as she craned away from it, letting the hollow husk cover across the score of buildings. The corpse was a show of its power, of what it has done, was to what it could do to Mothra.

A rush of swiftness accelerated through her body as it gleamed with the spark of power. Her hefty, oversized head hits like a driving nail into the glassy stomach of Mechagodzilla. The force is like a raging bull, tidaling Mechagodzilla off its feet and searing through the muggy morning air. Pillaring structures of office complexes tumble away from their foundations as Mechagodzilla skids through their housing. The torrent of rumbling steel and concrete surge over the metal monster’s appearance, shutting it away in the heap of destruction.

Mothra’s flowing mass remained with the gently hum of orange power that bathed over her. Her height gains higher and higher as she ascends above the ruins that hold Mechagodzilla captive. A halo of shimmering energy soon baited from the end of Mothra’s thorax outlining a writing circle in the sky. A symbol structured itself through the middle of the ring, the symbol of Mothra’s ancestors. With a heavy weight the energy seal begin its descent, the last weapon that Mothra had that could stop Mechagodzilla’s bloodlust.


Hordes of bulky portion of concrete crested over the sky in a flower of strength as Mechagodzilla shoved through the wreckage of the city it was sent into protect. It’s solitary arm raised high, its palm laying flat over of its head, its tender evil grin slated across its face its it dimly looks into the falling sky.

The pressing band of special energy depressed into Mechagodzilla’s laying hand, sending tremors of waving shockwaves though the faint sky. Mechagodzilla’s compressed and tensed under its metal exterior as the muscle of the energy flexed against Mechagodzilla’s resistance. The sky faded with a brush of blackness as the two strengths gemmed together. Static jolts of tracked down Mechagodzilla body as its system is pulled into grave stress. The bonding seal wobbles on the axis of Mechagodzilla hand, bounding like a seesaw. Deadly edges of lightening energy peer through the middle of the seal as the link of energy beings to break under Mechagodzilla’s confrontation. A whistling electrical bellow thuds under Mothra’s seal, as Mechagodzilla’s mouth is relieved of it.

Taxing energy shattered like a pane of collapsing glass, Mothra’s seal of mystical power dejected by a simple machine of metal and computers, something that should have been an impossible endeavor. Mechagodzilla head came down, a peer into Mothra’s tired and drained face, her body sprained from the drop in its power from forming the seal. Mechagodzilla’s lasting sneer hung deep in Mothra’s shocked eyes, her body pinned to the air by fright.

A burner of flaring azure flames hulled from Mechagodzilla’s back as its magnitude was compelled with a sense of speed. The interlocked splinters of sharp metal that were casted as Mechagodzilla’s teeth separated as the boxy snout opened. The gaping space of Mechagodzilla’s mouth was occupied by the squashy, thin flesh of Mothra wings. The slivers of metal bore through papery tissue, squeezing out the olive blood that roamed underneath. With a firm grasp with its mouth, Mechagodzilla’s lone hand clipped on to Mothra’s other wing. Running muscles and strength test against the struggle of Mothra’s flesh as Mechagodzilla’s hand pulls against the goddess’s packed wing. A spurt of arching fluid cracks as Mothra’s wing divides. Like scissors cutting down a line, Mothra’s wing is wrenched from her body, bounded liberally into Mechagodzilla hand.

Mothra’s hovered mass was carried gently to the ground, her side spewing a sledge of thick globs of oily blood, her bulk being buckled to the ground.

It as bubble of darkness, expect for a skyline of dimly light blue lights that rounded around the sphere, in a large viewing monitor that displayed the Mothra’s flaying figure, it was the heart of Mechagodzilla, its cockpit. Amid the terminal of straining lights, a sparkle of golden glitter emerged into the build of two miniature women, their orangish ruby dress clinched their bodies, their black, bundle of hair done into two buns adorning their heads, their hands clasped into a praying state.

“Please. Mothra is a alley to humanity, why must you attack her? If you continue to attack we will be forced to turn against humanity. We cry for you, Miki.â€