Mortal Kombat: Unmasking the Ninjas (Emotionally)

• Diagnosis: Collective Identity Crisis & Chronic Repressed Rage
• 
  Therapist: Dr. Elaine Brookstone, Psy.D.
  
• Session Type: Group Counseling (8 Participants, 1 Fire Hazard)
  
• Session Duration: 47 minutes before someone screamed “Get over here!”

On paper, this was supposed to be a routine anger management group.

In practice, it was eight color-coordinated assassins sitting in a circle, all insisting they’re the unique one.

From fire-breathing vengeance to frozen emotional repression, every ninja brought centuries of trauma—and not a single healthy coping skill.

By minute six, three chairs were on fire, two participants had disappeared into smoke, and one (Ermac) kept referring to themselves as “we.”

• Scorpion: Classic PTSD + pyromania. Keeps shouting about vengeance and setting off the smoke alarm.
   
• Sub-Zero: Emotionally frozen. Responds to all feelings with “I am fine.” Not fine.
   
• Reptile: Deep abandonment issues. Literally invisible half the time. Keeps hissing when ignored.
   
• Smoke: Persistent identity confusion. Unsure if he’s human, robot, or vape enthusiast.
   
• Rain: Severe narcissism. Spent 10 minutes talking about how royalty “deserves better filters.”
   
• Ermac: Dissociative identity… but makes it fashion. Frequently interrupts self.
   
• Kitana: Overachiever, tired of being “the only sane one.” Constantly taking notes for HR.
   
• Mileena: Self-esteem whiplash — wants affection but also keeps biting people who give it.
   
• Noob Saibot: Existential depression. Speaks only in whispery one-liners about darkness. Everyone pretends to understand.

Therapist: Alright, everyone. Welcome back to Group Emotional Wellness. Today’s focus is anger, identity, and not murdering your peers when they 

annoy you.

Let’s start with a grounding breath—

Scorpion: GET OVER HE—

Therapist: No. No summoning your trauma triggers during breathing exercises.

Sub-Zero: (exhales frosty vapor) I am calm. I am composed. I am choosing not to respond to that.

Scorpion: An ice box. Only with less personality

Sub-Zero: choosing not to react to that.

Therapist: Good. Let’s build on that choice. Who wants to begin by sharing how they express anger?

Scorpion: Vengeance. Flames. Cursing their names as I roast them.
(The smoke alarm beeps.)

Therapist: We talked about this. No open flames during group.

Reptile: (hiss-muttering) At least he gets noticed. I spit acid and everyone calls pest control. (Reptile begins drooling a bright green liquid)

Therapist: Reptile, remember: your feelings are valid. Your venom isn’t.

Rain: I express anger artistically. Through dramatic poses, water manipulation, and monologues about royalty.

Mileena: (snorts) And he cries in the shower. Or on the toilet, I'm not sure...

Rain: IT’S CALLED A “CATHARTIC PERFORMANCE,” MORTALS!

Therapist: Very good, Rain — naming your feelings is the goal. Perhaps with fewer jazz hands. (Rain stops dancing and lowers his jazz hands. He tries to maintain his dignity as he sits down)

Ermac: (multiple voices overlapping) We express anger by debating internally about whether to express anger. Sometimes we compromise by exploding.

Therapist: I… will take that under advisement.

Therapist: Sub-Zero, last week you mentioned difficulty accessing your emotions. Has anything come up since then?

Sub-Zero: I felt… something.

Therapist: That’s progress! What did it feel like?

Sub-Zero: Cold. Ice cold. The type of cold that chills you to the bone and freezes the blood in your veins. So cold that you feel like you'll never be warm again.  Cold like the...

Therapist: I meant emotionally.

Sub-Zero: Oh. (thinking) Then no. Still nothing.

Therapist: Sigh...(expression goes from hopeful to disappointed)

Scorpion: Told you he’s a glorified freezer.

Sub-Zero: I'm not the one who starts every session with a dramatic monologue about vengeance.

Scorpion: (stands up and points at Sub-Zero while flames rise around him) I WILL END—

Therapist: Sit. (Scorpion sits, still on fire. Chair ignites. Smoke detector screams.)

Therapist: Reptile, how have you been handling invisibility triggers?

Reptile: I’m coping fine. Totally fine. Everyone sees me. I’m very visible (He fades halfway transparent.)

Kitana: You’re disappearing again.

Reptile: NO I’M NOT!

Therapist: Reptile, we can see the chair through you.

Reptile: (invisible sobbing)

Therapist: Smoke, have you been practicing grounding exercises to stay—

Smoke: (poofs into mist)

Therapist: —present?

Smoke: (reappears) I don’t know who I am anymore. Robot? Human? Vape cloud?
My LinkedIn profile is a total disaster.

Therapist: You're on LinkedIn?

Smoke: Yes! Do you have any idea how much a condo costs in Outworld? Nobody can afford that on a ninja's salary. I need to supplement my income. Do you know anyone looking to hire a shadowy assassin with Excel experience?

Therapist: Kitana, would you like to share—

Mileena: She stole my fans in 1998 and never apologized.

Kitana: Your fans? You chewed through my diary!

Mileena: The diary insulted me first.

Kitana: It’s a leather book, Mileena. It didn’t—

Mileena: IT LOOKED JUDGMENTAL.

Therapist: (writing in notes) Sister conflict… possible delusional attribution… carnivorous stationary incidents…

Rain: May I share something important?

Therapist: Of course.

Rain: I feel overshadowed. Everyone here has a rivalry. A nemesis. A fanbase. I’m royalty — where is my story arc?

Sub-Zero: You got killed off-screen in one timeline.

Rain: AND I AM STILL RECOVERING FROM THAT COMPLEX TRAUMA.

Scorpion: Bro, we’ve ALL died off-screen.

Ermac: We died on-screen. Twice.

Rain: …I still feel uniquely burdened.

Therapist: Noob, you’ve been quiet today. Would you like to share?

Noob: (whispering cryptically) Darkness… consumes all.

Therapist: …Right. And how does that make you feel?

Noob: Hatred. Rage. The eternal depths of the abyss.

Scorpion: Same, buddy. (Noob and Scorpion fist bump)

Therapist: Let’s practice conflict resolution. When someone bothers you, try expressing it calmly.

Scorpion: Sub-Zero bothers me.

Sub-Zero: You set my car on fire. 

Scorpion: You parked in my spot. And you murdered my family.

Sub-Zero: That wasn't me!

Therapist: Deep breaths—

Smoke: (dissipates) I can’t breathe when I’m mist!

Reptile: (shrieks) NO ONE LISTENED TO MY TURN!

Mileena: (lunges at Kitana) I FEEL UNHEARD!

Kitana: STOP TRYING TO BITE ME!

Rain: (summons dramatic thunder) BEHOLD MY EMOTIONAL TURMOIL—

Therapist: EVERYONE. SEATS. NOW. (Everyone sits. Smoke re-coalesces. Two chairs are melted.)

Therapist: We’re going to end with a gratitude circle. Each of you, name one thing you’re thankful for.

Scorpion: My vengeance list.

Sub-Zero: My emotional numbness.

Reptile: My tail.

Rain: My aesthetic superiority.

Smoke: My fog machine.

Ermac: We are grateful for each other. Except in battle. Then we hate each other.

Kitana: Boundaries.

Mileena: Teeth.

Noob Saibot: The never-ending void.

Therapist: (sighing)…Progress. In its own… special… horrifying way.

(Everyone violently teleports out at the exact same time, blowing over three chairs and shattering the exit sign. Therapist sighs.)

The Mortal Kombat ninjas demonstrate severe color-coded emotional repression.

Each has built a psychological fortress around their trauma, masking pain behind violence, rivalry, and wardrobe coordination.

Collectively, they could conquer the world—if they’d stop killing each other for five consecutive minutes.

• Scorpion: Replace vengeance mantra with “Let go here.”
   
• Sub-Zero: Weekly hot yoga.
   
• Reptile: Group visibility training.
   
• Smoke: Boundaries—physical and emotional.
   
• Rain: Humility. Also, therapy not live-streaming.
   
• Ermac: Internal mediation, literally.
   
• Kitana: Time off. Possibly witness protection.
   
• Mileena: Switch from biting to journaling. Progress is progress.
   
• Noob Saibot: Vitamin D supplements. Seriously.