A/N: Warning, there is nothing fluffy about this. Thoughts of lust, rape and torture.


Hate…there was only ever hate between them. But perhaps it's a much too soft word for how Kano felt towards the blonde Special Forces Agent. There was absolutely no term to describe how much he loathed, despised, and utterly abhorred the woman that was Sonya Blade.

He hated her back. Her muscular back that would go rigid whenever she saw him. He'd, of course, had the dubious honor of having seen her exposed back a few times. The first time when she was all but a recruit, and her back was clean, unlittered with the scars that he'd come to associate with her eventually. He'd given her the first scar on her beautiful back, slashing downwards with his butterfly knife. He absolutely enjoyed how her back arched as the blow hit, the red line seeping through her clothes. It was a beautiful visage, he mused. Sonya blade on her stomach, her back taut with pain, and the pure white of her uniform marred by a bloody red. But he wondered, had he found it beautiful because he'd caused her pain, or because he would love to see her in a similar position but under different circumstances?

Mmmm…perhaps both.

He hated her arms. Her lean arms that managed to parry his blows more often than not. She was not a vain woman, but he'd seen her flex those arms exaggeratedly when she was in the company of other strong women. Snort. She did not want to be considered weak. And as much as he didn't want to admit it, Sonya Blade was no weakling. For once he'd like to see her completely under his control.. He would wrench her arms apart and pin them high up above her head. All the strength in her arms would not matter, and he would possess her in the only way she possibly could be.

Slowly and forcefully.

He hated her hands. Her powerful fists that can do more damage than her guns or her military batons could ever do. Those hands had, on more than one time, grabbed him by the collar and pinned him to a wall, shaking him and ordering him around. He'd laughed at that time, and she'd raked her fingernails across his face. Like claws. What would it be like then, to have Sonya Blade beneath him, writhing for an escape, but also unwilling? Her fingernails would scrape his back instead. And he would be the one shaking her and ordering her.What would it be like for her to actually obey him? But Sonya Blade knew nothing of obedience, especially to him. She would put up a spectacular fight, and that would make it much more enjoyable.

Oh so enjoyable.

He hated her legs. Her strong legs that she could use to crack a man's neck with. At one point in time, she had him in a headlock, her milky thighs pressing at the sides of his head. By some miracle, he was able to extricate himself from that grip, but the feeling took a while before it faded. He'd wear her down, he decided. Perhaps torture her a bit. And in her weakened state, he would pin her to the wall, and she would be at his mercy. She would of course, retain more strength than he would think possible, and wrap her shapely legs around him in a vain effort to hurt him. But then, he would thrust into her, and her legs would hold onto him more tightly.

But not primarily to hurt him, no.

He hated her mouth. Her loud mouth that could silence a hoard of Tarkatans with one shout. He'd heard her high-pitched scream of frustration, her bellow of anger, and her authoritative yell. But mostly, she used a particularly venomous tone reserved only for him. In fact, he'd never heard her be gentle to anything, or anyone. Oh what he would give to hear her beg. Beg with that pretty little mouth of hers, her breath barely a whisper. He would silence it with his and he would bite down on her lip. And in a mixture of ecstasy, hate and pain, she would moan. He would make her moan. But in all likeliness, he would get a growl instead. A growl of primal pleasure, tinted with blinding hatred. Because Sonya Blade did not do begging, and if she could not control the situation…

She would at least control herself.

He hated her hair. Her lustrous blonde hair that she perpetually kept in a ponytail. He remembered getting a faceful of her hair in more than one occasion when he was behind her, and she'd whipped around so quickly. She would be wise to keep her hair shorter in the future. At many times, he'd grabbed her by the ends of her hair and pulled her back towards him. He wondered—well, who wouldn't?—if such hair-grabbing could occur at another place, at another time, preferably behind closed doors. Of course she never ever allow him to run his hands through that blonde mane, grab a fistful and jerk it so that she would face him.

But who ever said anything about needing her permission?

He hated her eyes. Her piercing blue eyes that seemed to see more than what was in front of her. Oftentimes, her eyes flashed dangerously whenever she spotted him among the throng of Shao Kahn's forces. Although there was one time some other emotion crept over her eyes. He'd pulled his knives back and thrust it deep into the body of the man she was with. There was fear as she saw the dagger glinting in the light, then shock, and when she'd snapped out of it, unbridled hatred and anger. He would like to see that fear present in her eyes once more. Once she would be trembling from his torture, he would make sure she felt helpless and out of control. Every thrust would punctuate a step towards her inevitable downfall. And moments before she would finally lose sense of who she was, he would jerk her head towards her and enjoy the moment the light would leave her eyes. And he would break her.

Except, she was Sonya Blade.

And she could never be broken.

A/N: Yeaaaaaah. Been a while. Well, I don't really have an excuse, except that I've been really lazy. I decided that after 5 sorta love stories, I should write a hate/everything-else-in-between one. It's actually my first time to write something kinda dark and creepy. But I think it works. Ah well. Love it, hate it? Leave a review!