<![CDATA[X-treme Wrestling Federation - Relentless Day 1 RP Board 2019]]> https://xwf1999.com/ Thu, 16 Apr 2026 07:13:42 +0000 MyBB <![CDATA[Tea time with Lady Isabella Ravenwolf.]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=34915 Thu, 26 Sep 2019 23:57:17 -0700 Isabella Ravenwolf]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=34915
"I must say. The XWF has been crazy this past month. All due to one man, who I happen to respect. A man who rid this place of hope and light, turning the XWF into a dark and gloomy bleak place. It truly is a work of art. We all know who I am talking about. Mr. Dante Kyllen or Unknown Solider. I applaud you sir. May your rein be filled with the blood of your enemies and the screams of their torment. Now onto business. When I first saw who my opponents were for my match. I have to say. I was disappointed but I sat back and gave them a chance to change my mind. Not a single has done that. If they only knew who small they really were in my eyes. Nothing but insects who are not worthy to face me."

"I thought I was going to have a challenge, something to get the blood pumping. Yet I am left wanting. Wanting to end my match as quickly as I can. I do not wish to drag it on. So I shall win, and then choose which title to go for. That being the T.V. Title and the Hart Title. Which one will I pick? That answer will come in due time, first I must put the likes of Barney Green and Thunder Knuckles and Jim Jimson in their place. I shall teach them the true meaning of fear. They shall see how real of a nightmare I can be. So I will have my fun before I get bored and toss each of them overboard into the waters below. I do hope there are sharks down there in the water. I would love to see all of them swim for their lives. It will provide good entertainment. I shall see you all on board. Be ready to go swimming. For all of you will be in the Ocean and I standing in victory."]]>
"I must say. The XWF has been crazy this past month. All due to one man, who I happen to respect. A man who rid this place of hope and light, turning the XWF into a dark and gloomy bleak place. It truly is a work of art. We all know who I am talking about. Mr. Dante Kyllen or Unknown Solider. I applaud you sir. May your rein be filled with the blood of your enemies and the screams of their torment. Now onto business. When I first saw who my opponents were for my match. I have to say. I was disappointed but I sat back and gave them a chance to change my mind. Not a single has done that. If they only knew who small they really were in my eyes. Nothing but insects who are not worthy to face me."

"I thought I was going to have a challenge, something to get the blood pumping. Yet I am left wanting. Wanting to end my match as quickly as I can. I do not wish to drag it on. So I shall win, and then choose which title to go for. That being the T.V. Title and the Hart Title. Which one will I pick? That answer will come in due time, first I must put the likes of Barney Green and Thunder Knuckles and Jim Jimson in their place. I shall teach them the true meaning of fear. They shall see how real of a nightmare I can be. So I will have my fun before I get bored and toss each of them overboard into the waters below. I do hope there are sharks down there in the water. I would love to see all of them swim for their lives. It will provide good entertainment. I shall see you all on board. Be ready to go swimming. For all of you will be in the Ocean and I standing in victory."]]> <![CDATA[Hogging the Spotlight]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=34914 Thu, 26 Sep 2019 22:03:45 -0700 Big D]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=34914
This is exactly what I intend to do by entering myself into the Open Invitation Battle Royal for Relentless Day 1. While I fully intend to walk away from Day 2 still the Xtreme Champion, I'm not an idiot. As we saw in my match against Thaddeus Duke, you can be the most talented athlete in the world and still lose due to unforeseen circumstances. Outside interference, as well as ref's going into business for themselves, can cause someone even as good as Robert Main to fall flat on their face. Knowing anything is possible, I've got to look out for my best interest and keep myself in Title contention in case something DOES go wrong in my Championship Match. Worst case scenario, I set myself up for another opportunity to become a Double Champion when I DO successfully retain against Fuzz. It's a win-win scenario regardless.

When I look at the competitors in this match, it truly keeps me up at night. However, I don't lose sleep because I fear them, I lose it from laughing hysterically at them all night long. The fact that this joke of a match has any sort of Title shot on the line is pathetic. It's like they booked it straight out of the jobber lockeroom! The only person missing is Mingermind himself. Some people might argue that Finn Kuhn is no joke, but what the hell has he done recently? He may be a "big name" to people who remember guys like Migraine, but that doesn't mean shit to the fans, or roster, of now!

Well, Big D is gonna add some star power to, not only this match, but Relentless Day 1 in general. Before I announced my entry, the favorite to win was very likely Barney fucking Green. When Barney Green is the biggest name in a match, you know the talent level is shittier than Shane 's hotel room after a night with a $5 hooker. But never fear, now that I'm in the Battle Royal, there'll be a reason for fans to tune in!

I actually feel bad for Barney Green, though, I'm sure he had a similar thought process as I did and was expecting an easy victory. Sorry to ruin your day, Barn, but I couldn't just sit back and watch someone undeserving get handed a Title shot! It's nothing against you, I respect that you were World Champion back when dinosaurs roamed the earth, but that doesn't mean you deserve a high profile matches against Tony Santos or Thaddeus Duke. It's a whole different ball game, not just for this match, but in XWF in general. The truth is, you don't have what it takes to hang with the likes of me. But hey, runner-up isn't too bad of a spot; maybe they'll give you a shot at the belt I DON'T go for. Fat chance, though!

Speaking of fat chances, when I look over the names of participants in this match, I seriously wonder who most of these people are! I mean, one of them literally goes by "The Wretched NOBODY" for crying out loud! And who the fuck is Tyler Cross?!?! With a name like that, I would expect to see him jobbing to someone like Viscera on an old episode of Sunday Night Heat. And not in a match where he gets in a few good shots, nope, I'm talkin' about a straight up squash match! Well, don't worry, Tyler, I'll make you feel right at home when I make quick work of you!

And then there's Isabella Ravenwolf, a character straight out of a J.K. Rowling novel. It's rather shocking to find a female wrestler whose name DOESN'T give you the urge to shove dollar bills into her underwear! I'd say she passes the name test, but considering I fear Voldemort(a FICTIONAL character) more than her, that's not saying much. She should take solace in passing the name test, though, because it's gonna be the only success she experiences as long as I'm around!

While we're on the subject of success, that brings me to the current Heavymetalweight Champion, Jim Jimson. Most people won't give him credit for being a Champion because of the belt he's holding, but I give him all the props in the world. He's probably the best Heavymetalweight Champion since it was held by the likes of me and Lux. Though he's been successful in capturing and defending that belt, the level of competition challenging for it is on par with the rest of the "wrestlers" in this Battle Royal(myself excluded, of course). And while it'd be unfair to judge him based on THAT, you can only fight whoever is put in front of you, why don't we take a look at what happened when he stepped out of his comfort zone?

Jim got big headed and believed he was destined for bigger, better things. So what did he do? He tried to take MY Xtreme Championship, multiple times, and failed with each and every try! He shoved a fucking pinecone down my throat, broke into my house, TWICE, AND attacked me while I was at Sea World! But I was always on guard and ready to kickout, because the XWF is MY ocean and Jim Jimson is merely plankton for me, the bigger fish, to feed on. And if you think for a second I won't return the favor for the pinecone down my throat, you'd be mistaken! I got a size 13 boot that I'm gonna shove right up his ass once we meet in the ring come Relentless!

You wanna know who else gives me the desire to shove my foot up their ass? Thunder Knuckles. I've heard of the White Knuckler(a girl who gives hand jobs so tight, you can see the whites of her knuckles), but this guy takes the cake! I'd talk shit about how he probably gives HJs, but considering he needs X-Bux SOOOOOOO badly, I think that goes without saying. He probably wouldn't be offended by it, either, because if it gets him his money he's gonna do whatever it takes. Essentially, Knucks is an X-Bux whore! He talks about them more than Kid Kool ever did, and that's saying something.

In the same way I do for taking the spotlight from Barney Green, I actually feel bad for Thunder Knuckles. My being in this match means he's NOT gonna win and get his precious Bux. I'm sure he needs that money to fix the plumbing in his trailer, so I'll tell ya what? Here's some X-Bux because I feel bad and money isn't an issue for me. Obviously you need it more than I do. You're gonna need it to have a doctor rearrange your face after I'm done giving you MY thunder knuckles.

And that goes to anyone else who wants to enter this Battle Royal, if you step up, you're gonna get knocked down. If you're thinking about participating, here's some advice: don't. Now that I've tossed my name into the hat, there's no reason for anyone else to waste their time; you're only gonna get your ass handed to you! If you have a match later at Relentless, you might as well not risk an injury and focus on THAT match instead. Because everybody knows the winner is right here and his name is Big D!

The question is, though, which belt do I go for when I win? A TV Title shot sets me up for another match with Thaddeus Duke, someone who is the true definition of a sham of a Champion. People want to question MY reign as Xtreme Champion?! One look at my bout with Duke, and even Stevie Wonder could see that I had that match won. If it wasn't for Mastermind's interference when I was within arm's reach of the Title, I'd be standing here right now with a belt over each of my shoulders. Thaddeus didn't prove he was the better man, but rather a poor excuse for a competitor who couldn't win the Championship without help.

Knowing Duke and I have unfinished business makes it tempting to go for his Title. I know I can beat him, I already proved that before Mastermind showed up. A rematch would give me the chance to further display what the world SHOULD already know: that Big D got robbed. That I'm obviously on a completely different level than the current TV Champion, I'm a man while he's merely a child. The next time Thad and I are in the ring together, he's gonna need his Pampers changed after I'm done with him. And as tempting as that may be, it's not the only option to consider upon victory.

A shot at the Hart Title also hangs in the balance and, considering who the Champion is, it may be the better of the choices. Tony Santos is one of the most respected competitors in XWF today. As I prepared for my Universal Title match, all I heard was people clamoring to see Main vs Santos, and I will never forget how disrespected I felt upon hearing that. Me and Donovan Blackwater were written off like we were nothing, though I don't blame 'em for feeling that way about Blackwater. It's nothing against Tony, because he's proven himself time and time again that he may be the best Hart Champion of all time, but that doesn't take away the fact people wanted him against MAIN as opposed to ME.

Knowing how people view Tony makes facing him almost impossible to resist. If everyone views him as a potential Universal Title contender, there's no way they could deny the person who defeats him the same respect. While him losing the belt might help accelerate him to the Main Event, it would also set the person who takes it from him up for the same opportunity down the line. That's a bigger boost to your career than a win over someone still in school could EVER do.

Now I'm no fool, I'm fully aware Tony has a hot date with Centurion before having to worry about the result of the Battle Royal. I also know that if Centurion wins that match, he has to defend the belt against Mastermind. As much as I despise Mastermind, I can't help but root for him if that situation DOES arise. The chance to exact my revenge on him for costing me the TV Title, by taking a Championship from HIM, would be the ultimate poetic justice. And regardless of if it's him, Tony, or Centurion; a win over ANY of those men would instantly toss me into the discussion of Universal Title contenders. And that's always been the ultimate goal.

I'm not doing this to get an easy win, even though it will be, I'm doing it for the long-term. If beating a bunch of enhancement talent is gonna earn me another Title shot against some REAL competition, then that's what I'm gonna do. If management doesn't want to open their eyes and see the superstar in front of them, I'm gonna stand in their path until they DO! And if that means winning every belt the company has until I get a fair, one on one shot at the Universal Champion.......... then so be it. That ain't no story, it's the Cold Big D Truth.]]>
This is exactly what I intend to do by entering myself into the Open Invitation Battle Royal for Relentless Day 1. While I fully intend to walk away from Day 2 still the Xtreme Champion, I'm not an idiot. As we saw in my match against Thaddeus Duke, you can be the most talented athlete in the world and still lose due to unforeseen circumstances. Outside interference, as well as ref's going into business for themselves, can cause someone even as good as Robert Main to fall flat on their face. Knowing anything is possible, I've got to look out for my best interest and keep myself in Title contention in case something DOES go wrong in my Championship Match. Worst case scenario, I set myself up for another opportunity to become a Double Champion when I DO successfully retain against Fuzz. It's a win-win scenario regardless.

When I look at the competitors in this match, it truly keeps me up at night. However, I don't lose sleep because I fear them, I lose it from laughing hysterically at them all night long. The fact that this joke of a match has any sort of Title shot on the line is pathetic. It's like they booked it straight out of the jobber lockeroom! The only person missing is Mingermind himself. Some people might argue that Finn Kuhn is no joke, but what the hell has he done recently? He may be a "big name" to people who remember guys like Migraine, but that doesn't mean shit to the fans, or roster, of now!

Well, Big D is gonna add some star power to, not only this match, but Relentless Day 1 in general. Before I announced my entry, the favorite to win was very likely Barney fucking Green. When Barney Green is the biggest name in a match, you know the talent level is shittier than Shane 's hotel room after a night with a $5 hooker. But never fear, now that I'm in the Battle Royal, there'll be a reason for fans to tune in!

I actually feel bad for Barney Green, though, I'm sure he had a similar thought process as I did and was expecting an easy victory. Sorry to ruin your day, Barn, but I couldn't just sit back and watch someone undeserving get handed a Title shot! It's nothing against you, I respect that you were World Champion back when dinosaurs roamed the earth, but that doesn't mean you deserve a high profile matches against Tony Santos or Thaddeus Duke. It's a whole different ball game, not just for this match, but in XWF in general. The truth is, you don't have what it takes to hang with the likes of me. But hey, runner-up isn't too bad of a spot; maybe they'll give you a shot at the belt I DON'T go for. Fat chance, though!

Speaking of fat chances, when I look over the names of participants in this match, I seriously wonder who most of these people are! I mean, one of them literally goes by "The Wretched NOBODY" for crying out loud! And who the fuck is Tyler Cross?!?! With a name like that, I would expect to see him jobbing to someone like Viscera on an old episode of Sunday Night Heat. And not in a match where he gets in a few good shots, nope, I'm talkin' about a straight up squash match! Well, don't worry, Tyler, I'll make you feel right at home when I make quick work of you!

And then there's Isabella Ravenwolf, a character straight out of a J.K. Rowling novel. It's rather shocking to find a female wrestler whose name DOESN'T give you the urge to shove dollar bills into her underwear! I'd say she passes the name test, but considering I fear Voldemort(a FICTIONAL character) more than her, that's not saying much. She should take solace in passing the name test, though, because it's gonna be the only success she experiences as long as I'm around!

While we're on the subject of success, that brings me to the current Heavymetalweight Champion, Jim Jimson. Most people won't give him credit for being a Champion because of the belt he's holding, but I give him all the props in the world. He's probably the best Heavymetalweight Champion since it was held by the likes of me and Lux. Though he's been successful in capturing and defending that belt, the level of competition challenging for it is on par with the rest of the "wrestlers" in this Battle Royal(myself excluded, of course). And while it'd be unfair to judge him based on THAT, you can only fight whoever is put in front of you, why don't we take a look at what happened when he stepped out of his comfort zone?

Jim got big headed and believed he was destined for bigger, better things. So what did he do? He tried to take MY Xtreme Championship, multiple times, and failed with each and every try! He shoved a fucking pinecone down my throat, broke into my house, TWICE, AND attacked me while I was at Sea World! But I was always on guard and ready to kickout, because the XWF is MY ocean and Jim Jimson is merely plankton for me, the bigger fish, to feed on. And if you think for a second I won't return the favor for the pinecone down my throat, you'd be mistaken! I got a size 13 boot that I'm gonna shove right up his ass once we meet in the ring come Relentless!

You wanna know who else gives me the desire to shove my foot up their ass? Thunder Knuckles. I've heard of the White Knuckler(a girl who gives hand jobs so tight, you can see the whites of her knuckles), but this guy takes the cake! I'd talk shit about how he probably gives HJs, but considering he needs X-Bux SOOOOOOO badly, I think that goes without saying. He probably wouldn't be offended by it, either, because if it gets him his money he's gonna do whatever it takes. Essentially, Knucks is an X-Bux whore! He talks about them more than Kid Kool ever did, and that's saying something.

In the same way I do for taking the spotlight from Barney Green, I actually feel bad for Thunder Knuckles. My being in this match means he's NOT gonna win and get his precious Bux. I'm sure he needs that money to fix the plumbing in his trailer, so I'll tell ya what? Here's some X-Bux because I feel bad and money isn't an issue for me. Obviously you need it more than I do. You're gonna need it to have a doctor rearrange your face after I'm done giving you MY thunder knuckles.

And that goes to anyone else who wants to enter this Battle Royal, if you step up, you're gonna get knocked down. If you're thinking about participating, here's some advice: don't. Now that I've tossed my name into the hat, there's no reason for anyone else to waste their time; you're only gonna get your ass handed to you! If you have a match later at Relentless, you might as well not risk an injury and focus on THAT match instead. Because everybody knows the winner is right here and his name is Big D!

The question is, though, which belt do I go for when I win? A TV Title shot sets me up for another match with Thaddeus Duke, someone who is the true definition of a sham of a Champion. People want to question MY reign as Xtreme Champion?! One look at my bout with Duke, and even Stevie Wonder could see that I had that match won. If it wasn't for Mastermind's interference when I was within arm's reach of the Title, I'd be standing here right now with a belt over each of my shoulders. Thaddeus didn't prove he was the better man, but rather a poor excuse for a competitor who couldn't win the Championship without help.

Knowing Duke and I have unfinished business makes it tempting to go for his Title. I know I can beat him, I already proved that before Mastermind showed up. A rematch would give me the chance to further display what the world SHOULD already know: that Big D got robbed. That I'm obviously on a completely different level than the current TV Champion, I'm a man while he's merely a child. The next time Thad and I are in the ring together, he's gonna need his Pampers changed after I'm done with him. And as tempting as that may be, it's not the only option to consider upon victory.

A shot at the Hart Title also hangs in the balance and, considering who the Champion is, it may be the better of the choices. Tony Santos is one of the most respected competitors in XWF today. As I prepared for my Universal Title match, all I heard was people clamoring to see Main vs Santos, and I will never forget how disrespected I felt upon hearing that. Me and Donovan Blackwater were written off like we were nothing, though I don't blame 'em for feeling that way about Blackwater. It's nothing against Tony, because he's proven himself time and time again that he may be the best Hart Champion of all time, but that doesn't take away the fact people wanted him against MAIN as opposed to ME.

Knowing how people view Tony makes facing him almost impossible to resist. If everyone views him as a potential Universal Title contender, there's no way they could deny the person who defeats him the same respect. While him losing the belt might help accelerate him to the Main Event, it would also set the person who takes it from him up for the same opportunity down the line. That's a bigger boost to your career than a win over someone still in school could EVER do.

Now I'm no fool, I'm fully aware Tony has a hot date with Centurion before having to worry about the result of the Battle Royal. I also know that if Centurion wins that match, he has to defend the belt against Mastermind. As much as I despise Mastermind, I can't help but root for him if that situation DOES arise. The chance to exact my revenge on him for costing me the TV Title, by taking a Championship from HIM, would be the ultimate poetic justice. And regardless of if it's him, Tony, or Centurion; a win over ANY of those men would instantly toss me into the discussion of Universal Title contenders. And that's always been the ultimate goal.

I'm not doing this to get an easy win, even though it will be, I'm doing it for the long-term. If beating a bunch of enhancement talent is gonna earn me another Title shot against some REAL competition, then that's what I'm gonna do. If management doesn't want to open their eyes and see the superstar in front of them, I'm gonna stand in their path until they DO! And if that means winning every belt the company has until I get a fair, one on one shot at the Universal Champion.......... then so be it. That ain't no story, it's the Cold Big D Truth.]]> <![CDATA[The Ghost of You: Part 3 (You're Not There)]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=34910 Thu, 26 Sep 2019 18:36:14 -0700 Corey Smith]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=34910





Light was a relentless assault on Lux's vision as she opened her eyes. With a grimace, she snapped them shut, and soon tried again, opening them more slowly this time. The ceiling was a generic plane of porous tile. She was surrounded in a partition of beige cloth and....

Damn it!

The chill of the handcuff bit into her wrist. She pulled against it futilely, sitting up to see that she has been affixed to a hospital bed. Equal parts frustration and fear waged war within her, and she gave the cuff a few more pulls for good measure before resigning herself to the fact that brute force wasn't going to cut it. Think. Think. Think. She set upon the rail of the bed, analyzing it for weakness, shatterpoints. Absolutely anything she could use to diminish it's structural integrity. But she didn't get far. A shadow appeared on the other side of the beige curtain. Lux positioned herself on the bed so that she might be able to snap off a quick kick to this person's face. What then? Think. Think. Think. Pull them in to you, use them as a hostage of sorts. They'll probably know how quickly and capably I can kill someone so they'll know I'm not bluffing.

Lux took in a breath and held it The curtain swung open wide, and the figure was just close enough that with some propulsion, Lux's foot connected with the side of his face. Unfortunately, she noted a fraction of a second too late that she was kicking Vincent Lane.

FUCK! DUDE! Vinnie stumbled, hand grasping his cheek bone as he fell against the wall, tumbling into a small table beside her bed where he was able to catch himself before falling. Lux's attention went to the door, where a police officer entered, hand already moving to withdraw a tazer from his belt. Lane waved him off. It's okay....it's okay! Don't go all Tamir Rice on his ass! The cop shot Lux a suspicious look, but withdrew from the room with a degree of reluctance.

Lux looked at Lane, shaking her head. Christ, Lane! What the hell is going on?!

Vinnie righted himself, rubbing his jaw. “Oh, sorry for just almost unprettying your face, boss! It'll never happen again!” He pulled his hand away from the developing bruise. Would have been a good place to start is what I'm saying.

Fine. Lux sighed. I'm sorry. She rattled the handcuff for emphasis. But a girl wakes up handcuffed to a bed and she can't help but feel some kinda way, you know?

Yeah....uhhhh.... Lane avoided her gaze for a moment before rallying again. Look, we gotta talk.

A tingle of recognition sounded in the back of Lux's mind at those words, but she quickly cast it aside. Yeah, we do. Like, why am I handcuffed? And in a hospital?

You were found on the floor in your hotel room bathroom. The mirror was all broken and your hand was busted up. Lux looked down and confirmed that the hand that wasn't handcuffed was indeed bandaged. With attention paid, her knuckles started to throb in sympathetic response.

None of that explains my present situation.

It does actually.

My hand's not broken. This is a bit of an overreaction.

It's not your hand. Lane itched the back of his scalp, a nervous gesture.

Spit it out.

The Loverboy canted his head and grimaced. Look dude, I'm sorry, but it's over. Okay? It's over. He took a step back to ensure he was out of kicking range and Lux rolled her eyes in reply.

What are you talking about?!

I gotta let you go. You're fired.

Shock rippled through Lux's body. What....? WHY?! I'll pay for the fucking mirror!

It's not the damn mirror! Look....placing his hands on his hips, he mutters something under his breath. I really, really shouldn't be the one telling you this, but we all kind of agreed that maybe it would go a little better from a familiar face.

WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?! Lux's shout bit the air, and once again the officer hovered in the door way.

You're sick, man. Lane threw his hands out, a resigned gesture that looked like dropping a physical burden. Ok? You're sick. And you've become a liability.

She snorted with derision. I'm a liability? Me?! Have you peeped your Universal Champion lately? Or any of the other assorted lunatics you cut checks to every week?!

This is different. He briefly looks back towards the door. Your parents are here to pick you up. You're a minor and they told me they don't want you working for me anymore. My hands are tied. I take you on tour and shit against their wishes and it's like kidnapping....

Hold on, hold on! Shut up! Lux squeezed her eyes shut, trying to process the sheer insanity of what he was saying. None of this makes sense! NONE OF IT!

Yeah...they said you'd say that. I hope you get the help you need, kid. I really do. But I can't have you working for me anymore, okay? I'm sorry. I'm sorry it had to go down like this.

Lane abruptly turns away from Lux's bedside and starts heading for the door. Lux pulls against the handcuff again, as though trying in vain to pursue him. Lane? LANE?! Get back here! LANE!

Vinnie can barely be heard muttering “it's your turn” as he passes through the threshold. And then, as though summoned, a middle aged couple take his place. The man has dark balding hair, with a slightly ruddy complexion bearing a hint of rosacea. His middle section is untoned, but not inherently overweight. The woman is almost as tall as him, with a slim build and sandy light brown hair smattered with strands of gray. Her green eyes are piercing, and set upon Lux with a sort of deep mournfulness. But the man speaks first.

Do you remember us?

Lux gawps at them stupidly, trying to place them. But she cannot. I have no idea who you are. She answers honestly, trying not to inflame the situation, all the while sneaking a glance back at her bindings to try to suss out weak points again.

The man takes a tentative step forward. The woman wraps her arm about his forearm in a protective gesture. Your name is Ethan Dzielski. Do you remember that?

No. Another honest answer, but Lux could feel her frustration mounting again. She busied herself with searching.

You are our son. We've been looking for you for months. He looks at the woman, and then back at Lux. Too bad we never thought to check out wrestling programs. Heh. He makes a weak stab at a joke, but it just sounds exhausted. What that man, Mr. Lane, said about you being sick? It's true. You have schizophrenia Ethan. And you've been without your medication for a very long time. The doctor's think that might be why you passed out in the bathroom.

Who put you up to this? Lux battered them with the question, and they both looked taken aback. Huh? Madison Dyson? Is this Madison? Screw off. It's not funny. And you can run back and tell her that you're not going to break me with this shit, okay? So....screw off.... Lux wrenched at the cuffs again, more savagely this time. Cutting into the flesh and bringing forth a thin bead of blood that rolled down her wrist. This brought the woman to the fore.

Please, don't hurt yourself. The woman drew even closer than her husband,leaving him behind. He grabbed at her, but she looked back at him and shook her head “no”. She drew herself all the way up to her bedside, and Lux was shocked into immobility by her bravery. You won't hurt me.

Lux watched her resolutely, watched as a thin tear broke the corner of her eye and tripped down her cheek. All of these people inside of you, Ethan. Lux. Corey. Pavel. HELPER. Orlu. We've heard you tell their stories for years. It's almost like we raised them too. She smiled thinly. I was always partial to Corey. A tiny gasp that Lux didn't initially register as a sad sort of laughter escaped the woman. But now, we want Ethan to get better. We want Ethan to come home. Okay?

Lux found herself ensorcelled by the absolute lunacy of it all. I'm not Ethan. My name is Lux.

The woman nodded in a sad but unsurprised way. Yes, hon. Yes. Her gaze flicked back to her husband for a moment. And then, she leaned into Lux, speaking in a low conspiratorial tone. The police and the hospital want to keep you here. They think you're dangerous. But me and your father just want you to come home. I know you think we're full of shit. But if you don't fight us and just come with us I promise we'll get you out of here and keep you safe.

Lux pinched her mouth shut, biting back a reply. Shooting a look at the man behind the woman, she saw him nodding in silent agreement with his wife's words. Lux eyed the woman warily now, and she responded in a low tone in kind. I will come with you. But you know I can hurt you both very badly if you do something to me, right?

We know. The woman said the words in a stolid measured fashion, like she wasn't just paying Lux lip service. We've seen what you could do to all those people on TV. We don't understand it, but we've seen it. A pause. You need to promise me you'll leave with us without issue and get in the car. This is important. The police will shoot you if you fight. Real fear marred her expression.

Lux's considered the cop standing in the door frame, and then looked to the woman. Fine.

One Hour Later....


The urban landscape of Miami gave way to sparser domains, and then to the highway. Reaching the on-ramp instilled in Lux a “point of no return” like sense of anxiety. Removing herself from the vehicle, if needed, would now be significantly more challenging. But something kept her rooted to this place, a curiosity perhaps. Or maybe something deeper and more elusive.

Their names were Patrick and Sharon Dzielski, and they were a perfectly well rounded suburban couple comfortably into their 40's. And she couldn't deny that now, with the benefit of exposure, something was starting to seem unnervingly familiar about them. Lux looked down at the photo in her lap that Sharon had given her. In it, twin boys stood side by side, one arm clapped around each others sinewy shoulder as Niagara Falls roared in the background. The boys looked like younger versions of Corey...of Ethan....of whoever. Each boy bore a wide smile, mercifully innocent of what the years would bring.

Susan was half turned about in her seat, talking to Lux. She was subtly underscored by the car radio turned down low but not turned completely off, so that there was a barely discernible rabble undercutting the conversation.

Truth. Truth. Truth. Truth.

You guys were 8 then. Canadian side of the Falls. Corey liked it better on that side.

Lux eyed Sharon. Corey....?

Your brother. Sharon's lips formed a terse line after she spoke his name. You really don't remember?

Lux stared harder at the photo. I.....no.....

Sharon nodded. It'll come back to you. Once we get you back on your medication. Get you thinking straight again.

Maybe a med change. Patrick interjected. Sharon shook her head slightly.

We'll have plenty of time to discuss that.

Where is Corey? Why isn't he here?

Lux caught sight of Patrick shooting Sharon a nervous side glance. Maybe we shouldn't....

No. We have to. Sharon's eyes started to gloss over with moisture. Corey's dead, Ethan.

He's....dead....? Lux winced, and something about looking at this bright, smiling boy and hearing this proclamation that his body was decaying somewhere underground was almost too much to bear. And then, she immediately questioned why this bothered her so.

Corey died two years ago of a drug overdose, honey. It's what we think set off these....issues, you've been having. You took it very hard. Your doctor said that sometimes people who are predisposed to mental health problems can have them triggered by a traumatic event.

Lux thumbed the photograph, and was shocked to find herself blinking away tears. In the background, the radio continued its perpetual hiss, voices murmuring in the background.

Believe them. Believe them. Believe them.

Is it starting to come together? Are you remembering?

I don't know. Lux spoke the words, but found her confidence lacking. She could almost feel Corey's arm around her, the mist from the falls tickling their backs under the summer sun. She wasn't sure if it was true, but then why did it feel so RIGHT? It still doesn't make sense though. If this is all some kind of delusion, then why is Madison Dyson after me? Why did she have her people attack me?

This Madison Dyson woman isn't after you, Ethan. It's because you're sick, baby. Your brain is making it all up, making you think things that aren't real.

The radio thrummed.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

But....I....?

Susan smiled sadly. You loved Corey so much that when he was gone you couldn't handle it. You sunk inside yourself, inside this fantasy world of time traveling warriors, and demons and global plots. Because you couldn't accept that Corey was gone.

Lux's heart hammered against her chest, and it was as if with each passing thud, a barrier was being broken down. An iota of acceptance seeped through a crack in the dam she had erected against this awful, incomprehensible loss. Her finger tip went to Corey's face, because somehow she knew exactly which one of these boys was him. The dam was breaking down, splitting asunder in her mind's eye. Her heart pounding it's rhythm ever faster, singing an aria inside her of panic and terror and loss. Her stomach bucked, and her mouth grew flush with saliva. The radio continued its merciless drone.

Truth. Truth. Truth. TRUTH.

The bough was nearly broken, the dam now a wrecked bulwark barely standing against a sea of pure unfettered TRUTH. A tear fell from Lux's eye onto the photo as the dread within her persisted its awful ascent. She looked up and the car swam, it was underwater and outside the windows the highway was a foreign place, a formless streak of above-ground ocean. I can't breathe! Lux gasped.

The radio.

ACCEPT! ACCEPT! ACCEPT!

Patrick, pull over! I think he's going to be sick!

Drowning. Drowning. Drowning. The water was rushing into the car.

Radio. Radio. Radio.

ACCEPT! ACCEPT! ACCEPT!

Lux's attention snapped to the radio, but the rising tide of panic made her second guess her own senses. But she could have sworn she just heard the radio clearly just then.

I cant pull over right now Susan! Is there a bag or something?

Lux drew in a deep breath, trying to tamp down the panic attack. Her breaths hitched quite a few times before they mellowed. And then, she heard the radio again.

IT'S ALL TRUE!

Eyes narrowed, she leaned in closer to the speaker in the back seat.

LUX! IT'S COREY! YOU HAVE TO SNAP-

She gasped, head pulling away from the speaker as though struck by it. She couldn't stop herself from speaking his name. COREY?!

But his voice was choked out by static, snuffed out and replaced with that incessant drone again. But this time, Lux could make out the form and function lurking beneath the white noise even more clearly than before.

BELIEVE THEM! BELIEVE THEM! BELIEVE THEM! LUX! LUX CAN YOU-.......! BELIEVE THEM BELIEVE THEM BELIEVE THEM

There it was again, Corey's voice set amidst the monotone onslaught of commands. Lux turned towards Susan and Patrick just in time to see Patrick's hand jump to the power button on the radio, shutting it off. Lux's stomach sank, a jolt of fire arced its way up her spine. She looked back down at the photo and saw now that it was blank. Her lips parted in surprise, and she jerked her attention back to the people sitting in the front. Neither of them was looking at her now. Why did you turn the radio off?

It was getting kind of annoying, sport. Truth be told, I didn't even realize it was on!

Silence reigned again, until Lux ran it through. Patrick, I'm going to ask you again. Why did you turn off the radio?

Patrick and Susan's eyes remained locked on the road ahead, their expressions suddenly stolid and artificial. Well, I guess....

Lux undid her seat belt and threw herself towards the steering wheel in one smooth motion. Her fingers locked around the top of the wheel, and she jerked it hard to the right. Patrick tried to reassert control, but it was too late. The car careened across the lanes, and had made it as far as the rightmost lane before getting t-boned by a box truck. She forced her body to go limp, a last ditch effort to try to salvage as much of her physical well being as she could. Lux's world was suddenly rendered unto a swirling wash of spiraling color, glass, and chaos.

She awoke with a gasp on the street, wincing in expectation of the pain that was surely coming as awareness washed throughout her body. But there was no pain. Lux sat up and saw the ruination of cars on the highway, and then looked down at her body. No injury whatsoever. Impossible.....

Well now this IS frustrating!

Lux's attention was redrawn back to the wreckage of vehicles and she was shocked to discover that the remaining traffic on the highway was simply passing by as though nothing was amiss. Nor was there the characteristic whine of emergency vehicles in the distance. But more than that was Pavel. He sat on the overturned shell of Patrick and Susan's car, umbrella open above his head. Hopping down like some off kilter Mary Poppins, he casually sauntered over to Lux and held the umbrella aloft over both of them. Let me help. You seem like you've had a rough day.

What is this?! WHO ARE YOU?! Lux shot to her feet, backing away from the boy.

I'm Pavel!

BULLSHIT! She looked about frantically, appreciating just how wrong it all seemed now. Pavel couldn't even speak English! What the fuck is happening?!

The boy looked at her askance and sighed sarcastically. Okay, honestly? He lowered his umbrella and snapped it closed, freezing the entire scene about them. This might have not been real.

Oh, really? Lux spat bitterly.

I wouldn't gloat if I were you. You threw away a primo opportunity here. You had a chance to live a peaceful existence with a real family.

Yeah, sure, all I had to do was swallow the blue pill and continue on as a happy idiot. Lux rushed the boy and grabbed him by his lapels. But, no sooner had she made contact did he appear behind her. Lux wheeled on him, fists balled into white knots. END THIS GAME NOW!

Not until I, as one aggrieved party of many, have spoken my peace.

The assassin's eyes narrowed. “Aggrieved party?” I don't know what the hell you are, but you're not Pavel. And I will find a way to burn you to ASHES for daring to wear his face.

“Pavel” smirked and pointed a finger at her, finger gun style. He mimicked firing it. Bingo-bango. At least you've got some insight into what you do best. You're a destroyer, Lux. And you're so good at your job you do it even when you don't mean to! Like, can you imagine an officer worker who writes TPS reports by accident? Holy shit, give that guy ALL the raises!

Lux wears a bitter smile. Save it. I can see where this is going. She snaps her fingers at the imposter. So what story are you going with, huh? Are you my conscience? Mental illness? My insecurity? I mean, it's all the rage now, right? She shakes her head. Save it! I know who and what I am. You are NOT a part of me.

So what am I?

Something outside of myself. An invader. A sickness.

You're that confident I'm not a part of your psyche?

Very. She spoke the word so harshly it damn near cut. I don't have time for this self doubt bullshit.

The boy started to circle around her, stepping in front of the wrecked Sedan again. Smoke from it hung it midair, forever paused. I'm sorry, but weren't you the one telling DeVille how haunted you were not too long ago?

Lux grimaced. I'm aware of my mistakes. I don't let them devour me.

Oh, you're AWARE! Well thank God YOU'RE AWARE! He splayed his arms out to his sides melodramatically. Unfortunately you being AWARE doesn't make me any less DEAD. And it doesn't stop with me, does it? In fact, you've been fucking up people's lives from the moment you set foot in the XWF too haven't you?

What are you talking about?

He sucks his teeth. Seriously?! Lux, you are a nexus of RUIN. All you do is destroy! Think about it. You damn near destroyed Centurion's relationship with his friends. They're probably never going to look at him the same way again. Doubly so because Apex started crashing and burning that same night he was forced to fight them.

Centurion made a choice. I didn't force him into anything.

Oh, ok. Naturally, he looks unconvinced. Well, it gets worse from there. Let's talk about Thad Duke and Dolly Waters and Vita Valenteen. Lux looks like she's gonna protest but “Pavel” cuts her off. Eh, eh, eh! Just because this one didn't make it to the cameras doesn't make it any less relevant. Although Corey and Thad do seem awfully cozy for no good goddamn reason, right? But there is a reason, isn't there Lux? Yeah. You tried to get your own little group together behind the scenes. You wanted some normalcy for Corey, some people he could relate to. Some friends, right? But where did that go, huh? Dolly lost her smile, Duke did too for a time. And VV? HOOOO BOY! Let's talk about VV and Corey! Poor innocent little VV getting her bad girl cherry popped by some Aussie muppet now. I mean, that one kinda worked out in your favor, but still. Girl lost her damn mind as soon as she was sucked into the perpetual train wreck that is being in proximity to YOU.

Lux stabbed a finger at Pavel. I'm not responsible for any of that! They ALL made their own choices! They all had their own problems!

Oh would you take some accountability, Lux?! The boy sneers, and then waves his hands dismissively. Okay, fine. Let's talk lover boys then. Let's talk Joachim and Corey. Where do we start? Pick.

Fuck off.

That one strikes a nerve, doesn't it? Fine. Joachim. That little lovelorn puppy that you let follow you around and lap at your ankles. The one you give a little scruff behind the ear and a pity fuck to when killing people and getting rejected by Corey starts getting the best of you. He's a little different though, isn't he? Yeah, you haven't quite gotten around to destroying him, have you? But it's coming. You don't feel the same way about him that he feels about you. And you never will. And whyyyyyyyy?

Corey.

“Pavel” speaks Corey's name like it's an end in it of itself. Lux looks down at the pavement briefly before returning a feral gaze to the imposter standing before her.

Adorable, charismatic, cocksure, broken, confused little Corey. The boy playfully taps the side of his nose. Recently developed a taste for candy, it looks like. Wonder why that is. I mean, an addict's an addict, right? Corey himself has said addicts stay fuck ups for life. But can you honestly stand there and absolve yourself of any responsibility for his actions? The pressure you put him under day in and day out as both an international performer for a major professional sports promotion and one half of the world's strangest kill team. “Pavel” shakes his head incredulously. He's 17, Lux. SEVENTEEN. And on top of all of that insanity, you tried to force your love on him. An assassin, from the future, who lives in his brain, has developed some kind of creepy May December obsession with him. What the hell are you thinking? Harder men would break under that kind of pressure. You're OBLITERATING this boy. He pauses, lowering his tone. You will be the death of him, Lux. Like you were for me.

Lux's face is downcast again. She remains silent.

Do you have anything to say for yourself at all?

I do. She states softly, but her expression when she picks her head up is laden with hate. Are you about done with this shitty Doc DeVille impression or can we move on to the part where I'm fucking disemboweling you?

“Pavel's” head cants. There's that stone cold bitch.

You're goddamn right. Lux breathes heat. Yeah, I'm haunted by the people I've left behind. I may even feel responsible for some of them. And yes, I have made my fair share of mistakes. Let people get too close. But I want to make one thing crystal fucking clear. She approaches the boy menacingly. Nobody punishes me but me. And you..... her hand lashes out and she takes "Pavel" by the throat. This time, he doesn't move fast enough.

…..ARE NOT ME!

She cranes her other arm behind his head, almost lovingly, but pulls him in close like a Black Widow spider toying with a desperate fly. With a brief, brutal movement, she twists his head unnaturally, snapping the neck with a crack that splits the air.

Putting her ghost to rest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Lux awoke with a gasp on the bathroom floor, and was immediately aware she wasn't alone. Two male voices trickled in from the next room.

Did you hear that?

Lux clamped her eyes shut again, doing her best to reposition her body as it was. A second later, someone was in the bathroom with her. She felt a hand on her shoulder, rolling her onto her back.

Be careful in th-.....

But the man in the adjoining room didn't even get to voice his warning before Lux snapped into action. She rolled onto her upper back, grappling the invader in the bathroom about the waist with her legs and dragging him to the floor. He fell on top of her knee, causing a thin stab of pain there. Nevertheless, Lux used the surprise to her advantage, landing an open palm strike to the man's nose that pushed cartilage up into his brain. With a wet throaty gurgle, he began to convulse. Leaving him, she leapt to the doorway and heard the distinctive click of a firearm.

I'm armed. The moment you step out from there you're dead. Let's have a chat.

She opted to go to the sink instead, seeing that her assailants had foolishly left the glass shards in there. Scooping a couple of the larger ones up, she returned to the threshold and sent one shard flying in the general direction of the second man's voice. Banking on the distraction, she lunged and rolled into the room, following up on her projectile quickly. Before the second man could fire off a shot, Lux landed the second shard deep in his abdomen. A shot went off from the gun now, wide right and into the wall. He stumbled back against a decorative end table. Lux kipped up to her feet and got in close to him, slamming the shard further into his stomach with a kick, followed by another well placed roundhouse to the side of his head, dropping him. Stripping the firearm from his hand, she wheeled at the sound of another noise, and breathed a sigh of relief to see that it was only HELPER.

HELPER, what the hell happened? Where did they come from?

The robot remained silent, and then dipped back and away from her.

HELPER? Lux eyed the robot as it hung suspended in mid air, and an acute feeling of wrongness took hold. It occurred to her then that he was undamaged. Not even restrained. He was programmed to defend her at all costs. In fact, he hadn't uttered a word about the second attacker outside the bathroom. HELPER..... Lux's finger tensed on the trigger.

I'M SORRY LUX! I COULDN'T HELP IT! I COULDN'TTTTTTTTTTTTTTXHBGVFCX..... his voice modulator abruptly started to stutter, and then shriek incoherently. Suddenly, a lick of flame burst forth from one of his eyes, before his entire tiny body was engulfed. Running to the bed, Lux grabbed the sheets of it and threw them on HELPER as he dropped to the floor, trying to smother the flames. But the fire was intense and started to burn right through the sheets. She was forced to grab the comforter as well. Finally, the burn was under control. But, when she pulled away the mass of scorched blankets, it was clear that it was too late. HELPER had burned hot and fast, like an incendiary grenade had gone off inside him.

Jesus, HELPER.... a mournful voice whispered beside her. Corey.

What the fuck happened here?

I don't know. I mean, I was still aware after you went down. I could see everything happen, but we were incapacitated. I tried to call for you.

I heard you. Lux replied, remembering his voice on the radio. It helped.

He didn't even try to stop them. Corey gestured at the burnt out shell of their friend. It's like he was cooperating with them. Lux, why did he do that?!

I don't know. Casting a glance back at the body on the other side of the bed, she set her teeth. It's Madison, taking another run at me. Has to be. And then, returning to HELPER. Gonna wait for him to cool and then take him apart. Something went wrong.

Lux... Corey shook his head reproachfully. How can you be so detached about this?

You really want to moralize with me right now? Then, with a withering stare. I know what you were up to last night. We've got a lot of ground to cover, you and I.

Corey's expression melted into something inscrutable. He avoided her accusatory glare and disappeared.

TWO DAYS LATER.....


Lux sat cross legged on the roof of The Citadel, drinking in the night time expanse yawning open before her. It was beautiful, the sky had cleared just in time to pull back the curtain on a pastiche of glittering stars. The evening air was just starting to carry the chill that heralded the end of summer. But Lux couldn't appreciate any of it. Her head swam, bathing in grief and anxiety. The loss of HELPER. Corey's drug use. This, whatever the hell it was, that had gotten deep inside in her head, wearing Pavel's face like a mask and attempting to drown her in possibilities. Possibilities, and when that failed, guilt.

And on top of all of that?

DeVille.

This has not been a good week for me. She speaks the words aloud to the stars. You know, a friend of mine downstairs told me that given everything I've been through lately, an easy go of things would probably be in my best interest. And logically, he was 100% right. But I respectfully disagreed anyway.

I don't feel alive when it's easy. Cue “I'm Only Happy When It Rains”. Lux smirks. I realize that now. Easy is apathy. It's rote. And when I'm brutally honest with myself, “easy” was much of my TV title reign.

Lux finally looks dead ahead at the viewer. What? Surprised? I mean, sure, I'm supposed to crow about how amazing it was. That's what we do. But was it? I spent most of my matches rolling the likes of Boston Bruiser and collecting accolades for doing it. And yeah, that can feel good for a little while. But it's basically junk food. A rush of endorphins before the crash. She nods. I've been eating junk food, Doctor. Which is why I was so pumped to be getting a hit of Filet Mignon. And I did. I stepped in the ring with James Raven. Say nothing of Robert Main. Heh. And I mean that literally, we're saying nothing about him because apparently he's so fragile all it takes is losing a championship to get him spinning Adam's Song and vague posting until somebody makes a welfare call. I was right about him.

She sucks her teeth disdainfully.

But Raven? Now that was a pleasure. And maybe I shouldn't be so hard on Corey. Maybe this is just my own form of addiction. Killing myself with an endless succession of challenges until I inevitably break down. Over dose by over-doing it, I suppose. But you were gonna be my next score, Doctor.

And you broke my heart.

You broke my heart. Because I wanted to BUILD something with you here. I've been saying it all along. I literally fed you my suffering in an attempt to bring you to the fore. I gave the Devil himself a BLOOD OFFERING. And what do I get for my efforts? Silence. Well, not COMPLETE silence. We did get to see you extricate yourself from Gilly's asshole, so bully for that I suppose. She rolls her eyes out her damn skull. But silence where it counts. Silence when it comes to your opponent, ie ME!

You know, I think that's something that's oft neglected in the XWF. That notion of building something with the object of your aggression. It's an art form. So often we're in a mad dash to slip in the canniest insult, our crow about how amazing we are. Most people see this, what we do, as destruction. The complete dissolution of an opponent's spirit. But there's a form of strange beauty in these wars we have, right? It's almost literary. Exposition, climax, and denouement. That exploration of who someone is as a person on an almost existential level. It doesn't ALWAYS have to be cheeky graphics, catchy lingo, and insults. It can be more than that.

But being more than that takes two to tango, and Doctor....you left me hanging.

Lux picks up a pebble and tosses it towards the roof's edge.

Now, I'm not going to sit here and say that takes anything away from what you've done. You're held in high esteem for a reason. I think you deserve a spot in Raven's Hall and I'm hoping the only reason you didn't get in this year was because your exploits need a couple more years to percolate until they rise to the level of legend. That being said, you need to make a decision. You need to decide how you want your legend to end. Because right now, it's teetering on the edge of the fence, perilously undecided between ending with your legacy in tact, or crawling crippled and broken towards an ignominious finishing line.

Doctor, if you want to come back and show us how it's done then DO IT. One thing that truly stuck in my craw this last month, with all these guys bantering about for Raven's show, was hearing this notion over and over of “if I were here, so and so would be out on their ass. If I were here, so and so would have never reached the heights they did.” And I cannot help but think what a cowardly statement that is to make. Because if you had truly wanted that, YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN HERE. You would have been stepping in that ring with the new class instead of offering up some ex-post-facto condemnation of how everything supposedly turned to shit just because you stopped gracing the XWF with your presence.

Louis, you haven't fallen into that camp. So you've distinguished yourself in that regard. Unfortunately, it's the only way you've distinguished yourself of late. Don't even try to refute that. You know it's true. But! Despite how critically you have underwhelmed me....some idiot part of me still sees some potential here. Don't get me wrong, I don't like you. Or even particularly TRUST you. But I still think you have the gravitas to be the kind of dramatic foil that gets my blood pumping. Once you decide to give a damn that is. So I'm willing to make you an offer. When you are ready....and I mean TRULY ready. Mind, body, and soul. Or whatever passes for your soul. I want you to take another run at me. I might even be Universal Champion by that point. And I'm not even going to front and say this is me doing you a solid. It's totally selfish. Because I want the honor of putting down a Doctor Louis DeVille that MATTERED. That CARED. I want that feather in my cap.

It's clear I'm not getting what I want out of you at Relentless. C'est La Vie. Maybe someday though.

Do you want that?

In the space between pauses, Lux became aware of another presence on the roof, the Citadel's resident tech guru Wylie Sinclair. You free?

Yeah, I'm good. Lux turned to face him. What did you find?

As you can imagine, HELPER was damaged severely. Whoever altered him wanted to make damn sure they covered their tracks.

So it was some kind of destruct mechanism?

Yes. And incidentally, I'm sorry about what happened to him.

Lux grimaced. Yeah, me too. But did you manage to find anything else?

By sheer luck...yes. Wylie smiled a bit for having some good news to share. I was able to identify some hardware that was added after the fact at some point.

Jesus, when?

Impossible to tell. And I was able to track down the hardware's source. The more chipper expression from earlier seemed to fade a bit.

I bet it's one of Madison Dyson's subsidiaries.

You'd lose that bet.

What?! Lux bit back, shocked.

I'm afraid things are a bit stranger than that. Lux, have you ever heard of a company called D-R-W?

No. Who are they? Why is this strange?

D-R-W has a history in the XWF, and in geopolitical maneuverings going back centuries. Wylie stopped, looking a little flustered. They make KILLERS, Lux. High profile assassins.

Yeah, well takes one to know one. Just point me in the direction of who I have to take out to make this go away.

That's just it....you're already coworkers. Wylie rubbed his arm awkwardly. It's Shane 's company.


To Be Continued.....]]>





Light was a relentless assault on Lux's vision as she opened her eyes. With a grimace, she snapped them shut, and soon tried again, opening them more slowly this time. The ceiling was a generic plane of porous tile. She was surrounded in a partition of beige cloth and....

Damn it!

The chill of the handcuff bit into her wrist. She pulled against it futilely, sitting up to see that she has been affixed to a hospital bed. Equal parts frustration and fear waged war within her, and she gave the cuff a few more pulls for good measure before resigning herself to the fact that brute force wasn't going to cut it. Think. Think. Think. She set upon the rail of the bed, analyzing it for weakness, shatterpoints. Absolutely anything she could use to diminish it's structural integrity. But she didn't get far. A shadow appeared on the other side of the beige curtain. Lux positioned herself on the bed so that she might be able to snap off a quick kick to this person's face. What then? Think. Think. Think. Pull them in to you, use them as a hostage of sorts. They'll probably know how quickly and capably I can kill someone so they'll know I'm not bluffing.

Lux took in a breath and held it The curtain swung open wide, and the figure was just close enough that with some propulsion, Lux's foot connected with the side of his face. Unfortunately, she noted a fraction of a second too late that she was kicking Vincent Lane.

FUCK! DUDE! Vinnie stumbled, hand grasping his cheek bone as he fell against the wall, tumbling into a small table beside her bed where he was able to catch himself before falling. Lux's attention went to the door, where a police officer entered, hand already moving to withdraw a tazer from his belt. Lane waved him off. It's okay....it's okay! Don't go all Tamir Rice on his ass! The cop shot Lux a suspicious look, but withdrew from the room with a degree of reluctance.

Lux looked at Lane, shaking her head. Christ, Lane! What the hell is going on?!

Vinnie righted himself, rubbing his jaw. “Oh, sorry for just almost unprettying your face, boss! It'll never happen again!” He pulled his hand away from the developing bruise. Would have been a good place to start is what I'm saying.

Fine. Lux sighed. I'm sorry. She rattled the handcuff for emphasis. But a girl wakes up handcuffed to a bed and she can't help but feel some kinda way, you know?

Yeah....uhhhh.... Lane avoided her gaze for a moment before rallying again. Look, we gotta talk.

A tingle of recognition sounded in the back of Lux's mind at those words, but she quickly cast it aside. Yeah, we do. Like, why am I handcuffed? And in a hospital?

You were found on the floor in your hotel room bathroom. The mirror was all broken and your hand was busted up. Lux looked down and confirmed that the hand that wasn't handcuffed was indeed bandaged. With attention paid, her knuckles started to throb in sympathetic response.

None of that explains my present situation.

It does actually.

My hand's not broken. This is a bit of an overreaction.

It's not your hand. Lane itched the back of his scalp, a nervous gesture.

Spit it out.

The Loverboy canted his head and grimaced. Look dude, I'm sorry, but it's over. Okay? It's over. He took a step back to ensure he was out of kicking range and Lux rolled her eyes in reply.

What are you talking about?!

I gotta let you go. You're fired.

Shock rippled through Lux's body. What....? WHY?! I'll pay for the fucking mirror!

It's not the damn mirror! Look....placing his hands on his hips, he mutters something under his breath. I really, really shouldn't be the one telling you this, but we all kind of agreed that maybe it would go a little better from a familiar face.

WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?! Lux's shout bit the air, and once again the officer hovered in the door way.

You're sick, man. Lane threw his hands out, a resigned gesture that looked like dropping a physical burden. Ok? You're sick. And you've become a liability.

She snorted with derision. I'm a liability? Me?! Have you peeped your Universal Champion lately? Or any of the other assorted lunatics you cut checks to every week?!

This is different. He briefly looks back towards the door. Your parents are here to pick you up. You're a minor and they told me they don't want you working for me anymore. My hands are tied. I take you on tour and shit against their wishes and it's like kidnapping....

Hold on, hold on! Shut up! Lux squeezed her eyes shut, trying to process the sheer insanity of what he was saying. None of this makes sense! NONE OF IT!

Yeah...they said you'd say that. I hope you get the help you need, kid. I really do. But I can't have you working for me anymore, okay? I'm sorry. I'm sorry it had to go down like this.

Lane abruptly turns away from Lux's bedside and starts heading for the door. Lux pulls against the handcuff again, as though trying in vain to pursue him. Lane? LANE?! Get back here! LANE!

Vinnie can barely be heard muttering “it's your turn” as he passes through the threshold. And then, as though summoned, a middle aged couple take his place. The man has dark balding hair, with a slightly ruddy complexion bearing a hint of rosacea. His middle section is untoned, but not inherently overweight. The woman is almost as tall as him, with a slim build and sandy light brown hair smattered with strands of gray. Her green eyes are piercing, and set upon Lux with a sort of deep mournfulness. But the man speaks first.

Do you remember us?

Lux gawps at them stupidly, trying to place them. But she cannot. I have no idea who you are. She answers honestly, trying not to inflame the situation, all the while sneaking a glance back at her bindings to try to suss out weak points again.

The man takes a tentative step forward. The woman wraps her arm about his forearm in a protective gesture. Your name is Ethan Dzielski. Do you remember that?

No. Another honest answer, but Lux could feel her frustration mounting again. She busied herself with searching.

You are our son. We've been looking for you for months. He looks at the woman, and then back at Lux. Too bad we never thought to check out wrestling programs. Heh. He makes a weak stab at a joke, but it just sounds exhausted. What that man, Mr. Lane, said about you being sick? It's true. You have schizophrenia Ethan. And you've been without your medication for a very long time. The doctor's think that might be why you passed out in the bathroom.

Who put you up to this? Lux battered them with the question, and they both looked taken aback. Huh? Madison Dyson? Is this Madison? Screw off. It's not funny. And you can run back and tell her that you're not going to break me with this shit, okay? So....screw off.... Lux wrenched at the cuffs again, more savagely this time. Cutting into the flesh and bringing forth a thin bead of blood that rolled down her wrist. This brought the woman to the fore.

Please, don't hurt yourself. The woman drew even closer than her husband,leaving him behind. He grabbed at her, but she looked back at him and shook her head “no”. She drew herself all the way up to her bedside, and Lux was shocked into immobility by her bravery. You won't hurt me.

Lux watched her resolutely, watched as a thin tear broke the corner of her eye and tripped down her cheek. All of these people inside of you, Ethan. Lux. Corey. Pavel. HELPER. Orlu. We've heard you tell their stories for years. It's almost like we raised them too. She smiled thinly. I was always partial to Corey. A tiny gasp that Lux didn't initially register as a sad sort of laughter escaped the woman. But now, we want Ethan to get better. We want Ethan to come home. Okay?

Lux found herself ensorcelled by the absolute lunacy of it all. I'm not Ethan. My name is Lux.

The woman nodded in a sad but unsurprised way. Yes, hon. Yes. Her gaze flicked back to her husband for a moment. And then, she leaned into Lux, speaking in a low conspiratorial tone. The police and the hospital want to keep you here. They think you're dangerous. But me and your father just want you to come home. I know you think we're full of shit. But if you don't fight us and just come with us I promise we'll get you out of here and keep you safe.

Lux pinched her mouth shut, biting back a reply. Shooting a look at the man behind the woman, she saw him nodding in silent agreement with his wife's words. Lux eyed the woman warily now, and she responded in a low tone in kind. I will come with you. But you know I can hurt you both very badly if you do something to me, right?

We know. The woman said the words in a stolid measured fashion, like she wasn't just paying Lux lip service. We've seen what you could do to all those people on TV. We don't understand it, but we've seen it. A pause. You need to promise me you'll leave with us without issue and get in the car. This is important. The police will shoot you if you fight. Real fear marred her expression.

Lux's considered the cop standing in the door frame, and then looked to the woman. Fine.

One Hour Later....


The urban landscape of Miami gave way to sparser domains, and then to the highway. Reaching the on-ramp instilled in Lux a “point of no return” like sense of anxiety. Removing herself from the vehicle, if needed, would now be significantly more challenging. But something kept her rooted to this place, a curiosity perhaps. Or maybe something deeper and more elusive.

Their names were Patrick and Sharon Dzielski, and they were a perfectly well rounded suburban couple comfortably into their 40's. And she couldn't deny that now, with the benefit of exposure, something was starting to seem unnervingly familiar about them. Lux looked down at the photo in her lap that Sharon had given her. In it, twin boys stood side by side, one arm clapped around each others sinewy shoulder as Niagara Falls roared in the background. The boys looked like younger versions of Corey...of Ethan....of whoever. Each boy bore a wide smile, mercifully innocent of what the years would bring.

Susan was half turned about in her seat, talking to Lux. She was subtly underscored by the car radio turned down low but not turned completely off, so that there was a barely discernible rabble undercutting the conversation.

Truth. Truth. Truth. Truth.

You guys were 8 then. Canadian side of the Falls. Corey liked it better on that side.

Lux eyed Sharon. Corey....?

Your brother. Sharon's lips formed a terse line after she spoke his name. You really don't remember?

Lux stared harder at the photo. I.....no.....

Sharon nodded. It'll come back to you. Once we get you back on your medication. Get you thinking straight again.

Maybe a med change. Patrick interjected. Sharon shook her head slightly.

We'll have plenty of time to discuss that.

Where is Corey? Why isn't he here?

Lux caught sight of Patrick shooting Sharon a nervous side glance. Maybe we shouldn't....

No. We have to. Sharon's eyes started to gloss over with moisture. Corey's dead, Ethan.

He's....dead....? Lux winced, and something about looking at this bright, smiling boy and hearing this proclamation that his body was decaying somewhere underground was almost too much to bear. And then, she immediately questioned why this bothered her so.

Corey died two years ago of a drug overdose, honey. It's what we think set off these....issues, you've been having. You took it very hard. Your doctor said that sometimes people who are predisposed to mental health problems can have them triggered by a traumatic event.

Lux thumbed the photograph, and was shocked to find herself blinking away tears. In the background, the radio continued its perpetual hiss, voices murmuring in the background.

Believe them. Believe them. Believe them.

Is it starting to come together? Are you remembering?

I don't know. Lux spoke the words, but found her confidence lacking. She could almost feel Corey's arm around her, the mist from the falls tickling their backs under the summer sun. She wasn't sure if it was true, but then why did it feel so RIGHT? It still doesn't make sense though. If this is all some kind of delusion, then why is Madison Dyson after me? Why did she have her people attack me?

This Madison Dyson woman isn't after you, Ethan. It's because you're sick, baby. Your brain is making it all up, making you think things that aren't real.

The radio thrummed.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

But....I....?

Susan smiled sadly. You loved Corey so much that when he was gone you couldn't handle it. You sunk inside yourself, inside this fantasy world of time traveling warriors, and demons and global plots. Because you couldn't accept that Corey was gone.

Lux's heart hammered against her chest, and it was as if with each passing thud, a barrier was being broken down. An iota of acceptance seeped through a crack in the dam she had erected against this awful, incomprehensible loss. Her finger tip went to Corey's face, because somehow she knew exactly which one of these boys was him. The dam was breaking down, splitting asunder in her mind's eye. Her heart pounding it's rhythm ever faster, singing an aria inside her of panic and terror and loss. Her stomach bucked, and her mouth grew flush with saliva. The radio continued its merciless drone.

Truth. Truth. Truth. TRUTH.

The bough was nearly broken, the dam now a wrecked bulwark barely standing against a sea of pure unfettered TRUTH. A tear fell from Lux's eye onto the photo as the dread within her persisted its awful ascent. She looked up and the car swam, it was underwater and outside the windows the highway was a foreign place, a formless streak of above-ground ocean. I can't breathe! Lux gasped.

The radio.

ACCEPT! ACCEPT! ACCEPT!

Patrick, pull over! I think he's going to be sick!

Drowning. Drowning. Drowning. The water was rushing into the car.

Radio. Radio. Radio.

ACCEPT! ACCEPT! ACCEPT!

Lux's attention snapped to the radio, but the rising tide of panic made her second guess her own senses. But she could have sworn she just heard the radio clearly just then.

I cant pull over right now Susan! Is there a bag or something?

Lux drew in a deep breath, trying to tamp down the panic attack. Her breaths hitched quite a few times before they mellowed. And then, she heard the radio again.

IT'S ALL TRUE!

Eyes narrowed, she leaned in closer to the speaker in the back seat.

LUX! IT'S COREY! YOU HAVE TO SNAP-

She gasped, head pulling away from the speaker as though struck by it. She couldn't stop herself from speaking his name. COREY?!

But his voice was choked out by static, snuffed out and replaced with that incessant drone again. But this time, Lux could make out the form and function lurking beneath the white noise even more clearly than before.

BELIEVE THEM! BELIEVE THEM! BELIEVE THEM! LUX! LUX CAN YOU-.......! BELIEVE THEM BELIEVE THEM BELIEVE THEM

There it was again, Corey's voice set amidst the monotone onslaught of commands. Lux turned towards Susan and Patrick just in time to see Patrick's hand jump to the power button on the radio, shutting it off. Lux's stomach sank, a jolt of fire arced its way up her spine. She looked back down at the photo and saw now that it was blank. Her lips parted in surprise, and she jerked her attention back to the people sitting in the front. Neither of them was looking at her now. Why did you turn the radio off?

It was getting kind of annoying, sport. Truth be told, I didn't even realize it was on!

Silence reigned again, until Lux ran it through. Patrick, I'm going to ask you again. Why did you turn off the radio?

Patrick and Susan's eyes remained locked on the road ahead, their expressions suddenly stolid and artificial. Well, I guess....

Lux undid her seat belt and threw herself towards the steering wheel in one smooth motion. Her fingers locked around the top of the wheel, and she jerked it hard to the right. Patrick tried to reassert control, but it was too late. The car careened across the lanes, and had made it as far as the rightmost lane before getting t-boned by a box truck. She forced her body to go limp, a last ditch effort to try to salvage as much of her physical well being as she could. Lux's world was suddenly rendered unto a swirling wash of spiraling color, glass, and chaos.

She awoke with a gasp on the street, wincing in expectation of the pain that was surely coming as awareness washed throughout her body. But there was no pain. Lux sat up and saw the ruination of cars on the highway, and then looked down at her body. No injury whatsoever. Impossible.....

Well now this IS frustrating!

Lux's attention was redrawn back to the wreckage of vehicles and she was shocked to discover that the remaining traffic on the highway was simply passing by as though nothing was amiss. Nor was there the characteristic whine of emergency vehicles in the distance. But more than that was Pavel. He sat on the overturned shell of Patrick and Susan's car, umbrella open above his head. Hopping down like some off kilter Mary Poppins, he casually sauntered over to Lux and held the umbrella aloft over both of them. Let me help. You seem like you've had a rough day.

What is this?! WHO ARE YOU?! Lux shot to her feet, backing away from the boy.

I'm Pavel!

BULLSHIT! She looked about frantically, appreciating just how wrong it all seemed now. Pavel couldn't even speak English! What the fuck is happening?!

The boy looked at her askance and sighed sarcastically. Okay, honestly? He lowered his umbrella and snapped it closed, freezing the entire scene about them. This might have not been real.

Oh, really? Lux spat bitterly.

I wouldn't gloat if I were you. You threw away a primo opportunity here. You had a chance to live a peaceful existence with a real family.

Yeah, sure, all I had to do was swallow the blue pill and continue on as a happy idiot. Lux rushed the boy and grabbed him by his lapels. But, no sooner had she made contact did he appear behind her. Lux wheeled on him, fists balled into white knots. END THIS GAME NOW!

Not until I, as one aggrieved party of many, have spoken my peace.

The assassin's eyes narrowed. “Aggrieved party?” I don't know what the hell you are, but you're not Pavel. And I will find a way to burn you to ASHES for daring to wear his face.

“Pavel” smirked and pointed a finger at her, finger gun style. He mimicked firing it. Bingo-bango. At least you've got some insight into what you do best. You're a destroyer, Lux. And you're so good at your job you do it even when you don't mean to! Like, can you imagine an officer worker who writes TPS reports by accident? Holy shit, give that guy ALL the raises!

Lux wears a bitter smile. Save it. I can see where this is going. She snaps her fingers at the imposter. So what story are you going with, huh? Are you my conscience? Mental illness? My insecurity? I mean, it's all the rage now, right? She shakes her head. Save it! I know who and what I am. You are NOT a part of me.

So what am I?

Something outside of myself. An invader. A sickness.

You're that confident I'm not a part of your psyche?

Very. She spoke the word so harshly it damn near cut. I don't have time for this self doubt bullshit.

The boy started to circle around her, stepping in front of the wrecked Sedan again. Smoke from it hung it midair, forever paused. I'm sorry, but weren't you the one telling DeVille how haunted you were not too long ago?

Lux grimaced. I'm aware of my mistakes. I don't let them devour me.

Oh, you're AWARE! Well thank God YOU'RE AWARE! He splayed his arms out to his sides melodramatically. Unfortunately you being AWARE doesn't make me any less DEAD. And it doesn't stop with me, does it? In fact, you've been fucking up people's lives from the moment you set foot in the XWF too haven't you?

What are you talking about?

He sucks his teeth. Seriously?! Lux, you are a nexus of RUIN. All you do is destroy! Think about it. You damn near destroyed Centurion's relationship with his friends. They're probably never going to look at him the same way again. Doubly so because Apex started crashing and burning that same night he was forced to fight them.

Centurion made a choice. I didn't force him into anything.

Oh, ok. Naturally, he looks unconvinced. Well, it gets worse from there. Let's talk about Thad Duke and Dolly Waters and Vita Valenteen. Lux looks like she's gonna protest but “Pavel” cuts her off. Eh, eh, eh! Just because this one didn't make it to the cameras doesn't make it any less relevant. Although Corey and Thad do seem awfully cozy for no good goddamn reason, right? But there is a reason, isn't there Lux? Yeah. You tried to get your own little group together behind the scenes. You wanted some normalcy for Corey, some people he could relate to. Some friends, right? But where did that go, huh? Dolly lost her smile, Duke did too for a time. And VV? HOOOO BOY! Let's talk about VV and Corey! Poor innocent little VV getting her bad girl cherry popped by some Aussie muppet now. I mean, that one kinda worked out in your favor, but still. Girl lost her damn mind as soon as she was sucked into the perpetual train wreck that is being in proximity to YOU.

Lux stabbed a finger at Pavel. I'm not responsible for any of that! They ALL made their own choices! They all had their own problems!

Oh would you take some accountability, Lux?! The boy sneers, and then waves his hands dismissively. Okay, fine. Let's talk lover boys then. Let's talk Joachim and Corey. Where do we start? Pick.

Fuck off.

That one strikes a nerve, doesn't it? Fine. Joachim. That little lovelorn puppy that you let follow you around and lap at your ankles. The one you give a little scruff behind the ear and a pity fuck to when killing people and getting rejected by Corey starts getting the best of you. He's a little different though, isn't he? Yeah, you haven't quite gotten around to destroying him, have you? But it's coming. You don't feel the same way about him that he feels about you. And you never will. And whyyyyyyyy?

Corey.

“Pavel” speaks Corey's name like it's an end in it of itself. Lux looks down at the pavement briefly before returning a feral gaze to the imposter standing before her.

Adorable, charismatic, cocksure, broken, confused little Corey. The boy playfully taps the side of his nose. Recently developed a taste for candy, it looks like. Wonder why that is. I mean, an addict's an addict, right? Corey himself has said addicts stay fuck ups for life. But can you honestly stand there and absolve yourself of any responsibility for his actions? The pressure you put him under day in and day out as both an international performer for a major professional sports promotion and one half of the world's strangest kill team. “Pavel” shakes his head incredulously. He's 17, Lux. SEVENTEEN. And on top of all of that insanity, you tried to force your love on him. An assassin, from the future, who lives in his brain, has developed some kind of creepy May December obsession with him. What the hell are you thinking? Harder men would break under that kind of pressure. You're OBLITERATING this boy. He pauses, lowering his tone. You will be the death of him, Lux. Like you were for me.

Lux's face is downcast again. She remains silent.

Do you have anything to say for yourself at all?

I do. She states softly, but her expression when she picks her head up is laden with hate. Are you about done with this shitty Doc DeVille impression or can we move on to the part where I'm fucking disemboweling you?

“Pavel's” head cants. There's that stone cold bitch.

You're goddamn right. Lux breathes heat. Yeah, I'm haunted by the people I've left behind. I may even feel responsible for some of them. And yes, I have made my fair share of mistakes. Let people get too close. But I want to make one thing crystal fucking clear. She approaches the boy menacingly. Nobody punishes me but me. And you..... her hand lashes out and she takes "Pavel" by the throat. This time, he doesn't move fast enough.

…..ARE NOT ME!

She cranes her other arm behind his head, almost lovingly, but pulls him in close like a Black Widow spider toying with a desperate fly. With a brief, brutal movement, she twists his head unnaturally, snapping the neck with a crack that splits the air.

Putting her ghost to rest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Lux awoke with a gasp on the bathroom floor, and was immediately aware she wasn't alone. Two male voices trickled in from the next room.

Did you hear that?

Lux clamped her eyes shut again, doing her best to reposition her body as it was. A second later, someone was in the bathroom with her. She felt a hand on her shoulder, rolling her onto her back.

Be careful in th-.....

But the man in the adjoining room didn't even get to voice his warning before Lux snapped into action. She rolled onto her upper back, grappling the invader in the bathroom about the waist with her legs and dragging him to the floor. He fell on top of her knee, causing a thin stab of pain there. Nevertheless, Lux used the surprise to her advantage, landing an open palm strike to the man's nose that pushed cartilage up into his brain. With a wet throaty gurgle, he began to convulse. Leaving him, she leapt to the doorway and heard the distinctive click of a firearm.

I'm armed. The moment you step out from there you're dead. Let's have a chat.

She opted to go to the sink instead, seeing that her assailants had foolishly left the glass shards in there. Scooping a couple of the larger ones up, she returned to the threshold and sent one shard flying in the general direction of the second man's voice. Banking on the distraction, she lunged and rolled into the room, following up on her projectile quickly. Before the second man could fire off a shot, Lux landed the second shard deep in his abdomen. A shot went off from the gun now, wide right and into the wall. He stumbled back against a decorative end table. Lux kipped up to her feet and got in close to him, slamming the shard further into his stomach with a kick, followed by another well placed roundhouse to the side of his head, dropping him. Stripping the firearm from his hand, she wheeled at the sound of another noise, and breathed a sigh of relief to see that it was only HELPER.

HELPER, what the hell happened? Where did they come from?

The robot remained silent, and then dipped back and away from her.

HELPER? Lux eyed the robot as it hung suspended in mid air, and an acute feeling of wrongness took hold. It occurred to her then that he was undamaged. Not even restrained. He was programmed to defend her at all costs. In fact, he hadn't uttered a word about the second attacker outside the bathroom. HELPER..... Lux's finger tensed on the trigger.

I'M SORRY LUX! I COULDN'T HELP IT! I COULDN'TTTTTTTTTTTTTTXHBGVFCX..... his voice modulator abruptly started to stutter, and then shriek incoherently. Suddenly, a lick of flame burst forth from one of his eyes, before his entire tiny body was engulfed. Running to the bed, Lux grabbed the sheets of it and threw them on HELPER as he dropped to the floor, trying to smother the flames. But the fire was intense and started to burn right through the sheets. She was forced to grab the comforter as well. Finally, the burn was under control. But, when she pulled away the mass of scorched blankets, it was clear that it was too late. HELPER had burned hot and fast, like an incendiary grenade had gone off inside him.

Jesus, HELPER.... a mournful voice whispered beside her. Corey.

What the fuck happened here?

I don't know. I mean, I was still aware after you went down. I could see everything happen, but we were incapacitated. I tried to call for you.

I heard you. Lux replied, remembering his voice on the radio. It helped.

He didn't even try to stop them. Corey gestured at the burnt out shell of their friend. It's like he was cooperating with them. Lux, why did he do that?!

I don't know. Casting a glance back at the body on the other side of the bed, she set her teeth. It's Madison, taking another run at me. Has to be. And then, returning to HELPER. Gonna wait for him to cool and then take him apart. Something went wrong.

Lux... Corey shook his head reproachfully. How can you be so detached about this?

You really want to moralize with me right now? Then, with a withering stare. I know what you were up to last night. We've got a lot of ground to cover, you and I.

Corey's expression melted into something inscrutable. He avoided her accusatory glare and disappeared.

TWO DAYS LATER.....


Lux sat cross legged on the roof of The Citadel, drinking in the night time expanse yawning open before her. It was beautiful, the sky had cleared just in time to pull back the curtain on a pastiche of glittering stars. The evening air was just starting to carry the chill that heralded the end of summer. But Lux couldn't appreciate any of it. Her head swam, bathing in grief and anxiety. The loss of HELPER. Corey's drug use. This, whatever the hell it was, that had gotten deep inside in her head, wearing Pavel's face like a mask and attempting to drown her in possibilities. Possibilities, and when that failed, guilt.

And on top of all of that?

DeVille.

This has not been a good week for me. She speaks the words aloud to the stars. You know, a friend of mine downstairs told me that given everything I've been through lately, an easy go of things would probably be in my best interest. And logically, he was 100% right. But I respectfully disagreed anyway.

I don't feel alive when it's easy. Cue “I'm Only Happy When It Rains”. Lux smirks. I realize that now. Easy is apathy. It's rote. And when I'm brutally honest with myself, “easy” was much of my TV title reign.

Lux finally looks dead ahead at the viewer. What? Surprised? I mean, sure, I'm supposed to crow about how amazing it was. That's what we do. But was it? I spent most of my matches rolling the likes of Boston Bruiser and collecting accolades for doing it. And yeah, that can feel good for a little while. But it's basically junk food. A rush of endorphins before the crash. She nods. I've been eating junk food, Doctor. Which is why I was so pumped to be getting a hit of Filet Mignon. And I did. I stepped in the ring with James Raven. Say nothing of Robert Main. Heh. And I mean that literally, we're saying nothing about him because apparently he's so fragile all it takes is losing a championship to get him spinning Adam's Song and vague posting until somebody makes a welfare call. I was right about him.

She sucks her teeth disdainfully.

But Raven? Now that was a pleasure. And maybe I shouldn't be so hard on Corey. Maybe this is just my own form of addiction. Killing myself with an endless succession of challenges until I inevitably break down. Over dose by over-doing it, I suppose. But you were gonna be my next score, Doctor.

And you broke my heart.

You broke my heart. Because I wanted to BUILD something with you here. I've been saying it all along. I literally fed you my suffering in an attempt to bring you to the fore. I gave the Devil himself a BLOOD OFFERING. And what do I get for my efforts? Silence. Well, not COMPLETE silence. We did get to see you extricate yourself from Gilly's asshole, so bully for that I suppose. She rolls her eyes out her damn skull. But silence where it counts. Silence when it comes to your opponent, ie ME!

You know, I think that's something that's oft neglected in the XWF. That notion of building something with the object of your aggression. It's an art form. So often we're in a mad dash to slip in the canniest insult, our crow about how amazing we are. Most people see this, what we do, as destruction. The complete dissolution of an opponent's spirit. But there's a form of strange beauty in these wars we have, right? It's almost literary. Exposition, climax, and denouement. That exploration of who someone is as a person on an almost existential level. It doesn't ALWAYS have to be cheeky graphics, catchy lingo, and insults. It can be more than that.

But being more than that takes two to tango, and Doctor....you left me hanging.

Lux picks up a pebble and tosses it towards the roof's edge.

Now, I'm not going to sit here and say that takes anything away from what you've done. You're held in high esteem for a reason. I think you deserve a spot in Raven's Hall and I'm hoping the only reason you didn't get in this year was because your exploits need a couple more years to percolate until they rise to the level of legend. That being said, you need to make a decision. You need to decide how you want your legend to end. Because right now, it's teetering on the edge of the fence, perilously undecided between ending with your legacy in tact, or crawling crippled and broken towards an ignominious finishing line.

Doctor, if you want to come back and show us how it's done then DO IT. One thing that truly stuck in my craw this last month, with all these guys bantering about for Raven's show, was hearing this notion over and over of “if I were here, so and so would be out on their ass. If I were here, so and so would have never reached the heights they did.” And I cannot help but think what a cowardly statement that is to make. Because if you had truly wanted that, YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN HERE. You would have been stepping in that ring with the new class instead of offering up some ex-post-facto condemnation of how everything supposedly turned to shit just because you stopped gracing the XWF with your presence.

Louis, you haven't fallen into that camp. So you've distinguished yourself in that regard. Unfortunately, it's the only way you've distinguished yourself of late. Don't even try to refute that. You know it's true. But! Despite how critically you have underwhelmed me....some idiot part of me still sees some potential here. Don't get me wrong, I don't like you. Or even particularly TRUST you. But I still think you have the gravitas to be the kind of dramatic foil that gets my blood pumping. Once you decide to give a damn that is. So I'm willing to make you an offer. When you are ready....and I mean TRULY ready. Mind, body, and soul. Or whatever passes for your soul. I want you to take another run at me. I might even be Universal Champion by that point. And I'm not even going to front and say this is me doing you a solid. It's totally selfish. Because I want the honor of putting down a Doctor Louis DeVille that MATTERED. That CARED. I want that feather in my cap.

It's clear I'm not getting what I want out of you at Relentless. C'est La Vie. Maybe someday though.

Do you want that?

In the space between pauses, Lux became aware of another presence on the roof, the Citadel's resident tech guru Wylie Sinclair. You free?

Yeah, I'm good. Lux turned to face him. What did you find?

As you can imagine, HELPER was damaged severely. Whoever altered him wanted to make damn sure they covered their tracks.

So it was some kind of destruct mechanism?

Yes. And incidentally, I'm sorry about what happened to him.

Lux grimaced. Yeah, me too. But did you manage to find anything else?

By sheer luck...yes. Wylie smiled a bit for having some good news to share. I was able to identify some hardware that was added after the fact at some point.

Jesus, when?

Impossible to tell. And I was able to track down the hardware's source. The more chipper expression from earlier seemed to fade a bit.

I bet it's one of Madison Dyson's subsidiaries.

You'd lose that bet.

What?! Lux bit back, shocked.

I'm afraid things are a bit stranger than that. Lux, have you ever heard of a company called D-R-W?

No. Who are they? Why is this strange?

D-R-W has a history in the XWF, and in geopolitical maneuverings going back centuries. Wylie stopped, looking a little flustered. They make KILLERS, Lux. High profile assassins.

Yeah, well takes one to know one. Just point me in the direction of who I have to take out to make this go away.

That's just it....you're already coworkers. Wylie rubbed his arm awkwardly. It's Shane 's company.


To Be Continued.....]]> <![CDATA[The Fishing “Trip”]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=34906 Thu, 26 Sep 2019 09:50:41 -0700 Shawn Warstein]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=34906
Clerk: Looking to do some fishin’?

Fuzz: Woah how’d you figure that out Sherlock?

The clerk gruffs, as Fuzz rolls his eyes. Happy with his purchase Fuzz walks out of the store as the camera cuts.

Fuzz is seen sitting in a chair with an oversized hat on his head, some black waders on as well. He’s mimicking casting the fishing pole. Noah bursts into the room, as Fuzz quickly tosses the pole aside.

Noah: Oi, what’s that?

Fuzz: N...Nooo… Nothing..

Noah: Yeah right cunt… let me see.

Noah leaps over Fuzz and grabs the fishing pole. His face lights up.

Noah: Is this what I think I it is?

Fuzz: Come on Noah, you’re not that thick.

Noah: Are we doing this? Are we going on a father and son fishing trip? Is this my second birthday gift? So Fucking Sick!

Fuzz snatches the fishing pole from him, and see the pure excitement on his face. Rather than letting him down Fuzz agrees.

Fuzz: Yeah, sure I guess.

Noah: Sweet! My cunt Dad never took me on any sick trips. This is going to be epic. I’mma run to the shop and grab some tinnies and we will be off.

Noah bolts out of the room and leaves Fuzz sitting there hanging his head. The scene quickly changes to Noah and Fuzz sitting on what seems to be a boat, with their lines cast into the lake.

Noah: This is boring cunt.

Fuzz: No one said it was going to be exciting. This is the type of activity where you can just clear your mind. You can get right with the world doing this.

Noah: Did your Dad ever take you on any fishing trips?

Fuzz: Nope. Much like you, he left. Just my mom and I. She tried her best, but I’m going to call a spade a spade, I was a shit child. Always in trouble, always acting out, never listening. I needed that role model and he wasn’t there. That’s why I’m happy that you turned out the way you did, regardless of who was or wasn’t there.

Noah: Thanks.

Fuzz and Noah sat there in silence for what seemed to be hours. Then Noah suddenly breaks the silence.

Noah: These graphics suck.

Noah tosses the Wii remote at the TV, and stands up revealing the fake boat, the empty beer cans, and large TV.

Fuzz: What like I’ve ever took someone fishing before. I figured you’d like the video game instead.

Noah sits down and picks up his Wii remote and casts again.

Noah: You’re not wrong. I guess at least you're here Dad.

Fuzz cracks a small smile, as both of them continue to play the game, with smiles abound.]]>
Clerk: Looking to do some fishin’?

Fuzz: Woah how’d you figure that out Sherlock?

The clerk gruffs, as Fuzz rolls his eyes. Happy with his purchase Fuzz walks out of the store as the camera cuts.

Fuzz is seen sitting in a chair with an oversized hat on his head, some black waders on as well. He’s mimicking casting the fishing pole. Noah bursts into the room, as Fuzz quickly tosses the pole aside.

Noah: Oi, what’s that?

Fuzz: N...Nooo… Nothing..

Noah: Yeah right cunt… let me see.

Noah leaps over Fuzz and grabs the fishing pole. His face lights up.

Noah: Is this what I think I it is?

Fuzz: Come on Noah, you’re not that thick.

Noah: Are we doing this? Are we going on a father and son fishing trip? Is this my second birthday gift? So Fucking Sick!

Fuzz snatches the fishing pole from him, and see the pure excitement on his face. Rather than letting him down Fuzz agrees.

Fuzz: Yeah, sure I guess.

Noah: Sweet! My cunt Dad never took me on any sick trips. This is going to be epic. I’mma run to the shop and grab some tinnies and we will be off.

Noah bolts out of the room and leaves Fuzz sitting there hanging his head. The scene quickly changes to Noah and Fuzz sitting on what seems to be a boat, with their lines cast into the lake.

Noah: This is boring cunt.

Fuzz: No one said it was going to be exciting. This is the type of activity where you can just clear your mind. You can get right with the world doing this.

Noah: Did your Dad ever take you on any fishing trips?

Fuzz: Nope. Much like you, he left. Just my mom and I. She tried her best, but I’m going to call a spade a spade, I was a shit child. Always in trouble, always acting out, never listening. I needed that role model and he wasn’t there. That’s why I’m happy that you turned out the way you did, regardless of who was or wasn’t there.

Noah: Thanks.

Fuzz and Noah sat there in silence for what seemed to be hours. Then Noah suddenly breaks the silence.

Noah: These graphics suck.

Noah tosses the Wii remote at the TV, and stands up revealing the fake boat, the empty beer cans, and large TV.

Fuzz: What like I’ve ever took someone fishing before. I figured you’d like the video game instead.

Noah sits down and picks up his Wii remote and casts again.

Noah: You’re not wrong. I guess at least you're here Dad.

Fuzz cracks a small smile, as both of them continue to play the game, with smiles abound.]]> <![CDATA[Channel Catfish]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=34905 Wed, 25 Sep 2019 21:23:30 -0700 bRiaN sTorM]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=34905
[Image: EhzlKfg.jpg]]]>
[Image: EhzlKfg.jpg]]]> <![CDATA[Mixed Media]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=34885 Mon, 23 Sep 2019 18:16:04 -0700 Lacklan]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=34885


Sarah Grey-Lacklan sits atop a small stool, her black and red dress with the puffy shoulders covered up by a white apron. The albino’s hair is pulled back into a long tail to be kept off her face, and her odd red eyes seem magnified behind her glasses. Before her rests a large easel, easily the size of the small woman, with several thin strips of paper before her resting on a pallet.

“Most here do not know it,” she says as she fiddles with the strips of paper, “but I like to draw. Paint, too. My psychiatrist has always thought that it was an effective anger management tool for me, something to get the rage out, or some such. My Beloved was delighted when she found out early on when we began dating, as it was yet another thing to fascinate her, but I do not do it often anymore. She has become my rage suppressor. But this...this has been calling out to me.”

She picks up a strip of paper and holds it in various angles against the easel, the surface of which is covered in similar strips of paper of different sizes, each with words written across them.

“From what I understand, my mother was big on mixed media. I never have been, but I will always take a moment to get closer to her. And no, Nedward, I am NOT going to spend time talking about my past again, so you can stop crying about it, already. You should be spending all of your time figuring out how to not lose to Noah, anyway. Because holy FUCK you are losing to him!”

She giggles as she holds up one of the strips.

“Know what this is? All this media? Its the titles of every single XWF promotional video an opponent has published that lost to me. And as you can see, there is a TON! Though THIS one is perhaps my favorite. ‘Its all over but the crying?’ Good God! How salty those tears must be!”

She giggles again as she takes a spot of glue and pastes the strip of paper to the easel.

“Know what is interesting about this little project of mine, Vita? Its ever growing. Ever developing. Like me! It has a core of awesome...like shitty ‘in the woods’ titles from Fucktard Bro #3...or whatever arbitrary number I gave Donovan...to lame as FUCK stuff like Lux ‘dropping fire’ or whatever...but it grows! And as it grows? It stays, at its core, the same. It doesn’t change. It doesn’t shift paradigms. It doesn’t LIE to itself about what it is. It just grows, and absorbs, and learns. Like me.”

She picks up another strip of paper.

“I am me, Vita. I have always been me. ‘My little ball of rage,’ Daddy said. His ‘Firestarter.’ And through the years, I have grown to accept things I didn’t understand before. I have increased my skills, added moves and styles, improved my conditioning. But at my core? Still the same. Because that is what growth MEANS, Vita. It means that the cub becomes a lioness, ferocious and powerful, but still the cub at heart. Or, should you prefer something more practical, think of it as a toolbox. We are a toolbox, filled with hammer and nails, perhaps a screwdriver, and as we grow, we add tools to the chest. We learn how to do more jobs, perform more duties. But at our core? We’re still the hammer and nails, perhaps that screwdriver, inside the chest.”

She glues the next strip at on odd angle, the words “The Cunt Movement” being clear for the camera.

“But that isn’t what you do, is it, Vita? Ya know, when I did that whole ‘send you some Big Girl Panties’ bit, I didn’t expect you to FUNDAMENTALLY change. I just wanted you to show some fire! Some UMPH, ya know? To ADD to the toolbox that is Vita at her core. But you didn’t. Instead, you changed. Fully. Why? I mean, I’m not saying that dumping Corey for Noah is a BAD idea, or anything. Noah has that yummy rapscallion look going for him while Corey was probably going through your underwear drawer for something that fit, right? So, I see that as an upgrade. But the rest? ’s money? Sneaking into the Hooded Man’s employ?”

She shakes her head.

“Might as well set this piece I’m working on aflame, throw it in the trash, kick the trashcan down a ravine, toss a boulder into said ravine like the Evil Queen (#Goals!) tried to do to the dwarfs, and go ‘See! See?! I GREW!’ That isn’t growth, sweetie...that’s abandonment. That isn’t going back to the drawing board and figuring out how to change your gameplan...that’s giving up the sport and going into another. And because of that, because you are choosing to start at Square One again? You are going to be wholly outclassed by this thoroughbred.”

She smiles as she picks up another strip of paper, this reading “Mind Games to War Games” and a giggled “...oh, Mastermind…” slips out.

“But, hey, saying ‘FUCK IT!’ and abandoning who and what you are is not a NEW thing for you, is it? You went from standing up for Jessalyn on a Mexican beach to meeting the ‘mean girl’ quality when fighting Dolly...for what? To avoid taking that L? And then back to sugar and spice with Corey for...what? Sympathy on Anarchy? And now to THIS? What is going to happen after you lose at Relentless? Are you going to then shift completely again with a cry of ‘Welp, THAT didn’t work, either!’ and start worshiping the Deceiver and raping people like the World Champ? Whatever you need to do to not get beat again?

“Whatever lie is next, be assured that I will be adding five NEW promo titles to this piece after Relentless, and one of them WILL be yours.”]]>


Sarah Grey-Lacklan sits atop a small stool, her black and red dress with the puffy shoulders covered up by a white apron. The albino’s hair is pulled back into a long tail to be kept off her face, and her odd red eyes seem magnified behind her glasses. Before her rests a large easel, easily the size of the small woman, with several thin strips of paper before her resting on a pallet.

“Most here do not know it,” she says as she fiddles with the strips of paper, “but I like to draw. Paint, too. My psychiatrist has always thought that it was an effective anger management tool for me, something to get the rage out, or some such. My Beloved was delighted when she found out early on when we began dating, as it was yet another thing to fascinate her, but I do not do it often anymore. She has become my rage suppressor. But this...this has been calling out to me.”

She picks up a strip of paper and holds it in various angles against the easel, the surface of which is covered in similar strips of paper of different sizes, each with words written across them.

“From what I understand, my mother was big on mixed media. I never have been, but I will always take a moment to get closer to her. And no, Nedward, I am NOT going to spend time talking about my past again, so you can stop crying about it, already. You should be spending all of your time figuring out how to not lose to Noah, anyway. Because holy FUCK you are losing to him!”

She giggles as she holds up one of the strips.

“Know what this is? All this media? Its the titles of every single XWF promotional video an opponent has published that lost to me. And as you can see, there is a TON! Though THIS one is perhaps my favorite. ‘Its all over but the crying?’ Good God! How salty those tears must be!”

She giggles again as she takes a spot of glue and pastes the strip of paper to the easel.

“Know what is interesting about this little project of mine, Vita? Its ever growing. Ever developing. Like me! It has a core of awesome...like shitty ‘in the woods’ titles from Fucktard Bro #3...or whatever arbitrary number I gave Donovan...to lame as FUCK stuff like Lux ‘dropping fire’ or whatever...but it grows! And as it grows? It stays, at its core, the same. It doesn’t change. It doesn’t shift paradigms. It doesn’t LIE to itself about what it is. It just grows, and absorbs, and learns. Like me.”

She picks up another strip of paper.

“I am me, Vita. I have always been me. ‘My little ball of rage,’ Daddy said. His ‘Firestarter.’ And through the years, I have grown to accept things I didn’t understand before. I have increased my skills, added moves and styles, improved my conditioning. But at my core? Still the same. Because that is what growth MEANS, Vita. It means that the cub becomes a lioness, ferocious and powerful, but still the cub at heart. Or, should you prefer something more practical, think of it as a toolbox. We are a toolbox, filled with hammer and nails, perhaps a screwdriver, and as we grow, we add tools to the chest. We learn how to do more jobs, perform more duties. But at our core? We’re still the hammer and nails, perhaps that screwdriver, inside the chest.”

She glues the next strip at on odd angle, the words “The Cunt Movement” being clear for the camera.

“But that isn’t what you do, is it, Vita? Ya know, when I did that whole ‘send you some Big Girl Panties’ bit, I didn’t expect you to FUNDAMENTALLY change. I just wanted you to show some fire! Some UMPH, ya know? To ADD to the toolbox that is Vita at her core. But you didn’t. Instead, you changed. Fully. Why? I mean, I’m not saying that dumping Corey for Noah is a BAD idea, or anything. Noah has that yummy rapscallion look going for him while Corey was probably going through your underwear drawer for something that fit, right? So, I see that as an upgrade. But the rest? ’s money? Sneaking into the Hooded Man’s employ?”

She shakes her head.

“Might as well set this piece I’m working on aflame, throw it in the trash, kick the trashcan down a ravine, toss a boulder into said ravine like the Evil Queen (#Goals!) tried to do to the dwarfs, and go ‘See! See?! I GREW!’ That isn’t growth, sweetie...that’s abandonment. That isn’t going back to the drawing board and figuring out how to change your gameplan...that’s giving up the sport and going into another. And because of that, because you are choosing to start at Square One again? You are going to be wholly outclassed by this thoroughbred.”

She smiles as she picks up another strip of paper, this reading “Mind Games to War Games” and a giggled “...oh, Mastermind…” slips out.

“But, hey, saying ‘FUCK IT!’ and abandoning who and what you are is not a NEW thing for you, is it? You went from standing up for Jessalyn on a Mexican beach to meeting the ‘mean girl’ quality when fighting Dolly...for what? To avoid taking that L? And then back to sugar and spice with Corey for...what? Sympathy on Anarchy? And now to THIS? What is going to happen after you lose at Relentless? Are you going to then shift completely again with a cry of ‘Welp, THAT didn’t work, either!’ and start worshiping the Deceiver and raping people like the World Champ? Whatever you need to do to not get beat again?

“Whatever lie is next, be assured that I will be adding five NEW promo titles to this piece after Relentless, and one of them WILL be yours.”]]> <![CDATA[The Ghost of You: Part 2 (Somebody Call a Doctor)]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=34870 Sat, 21 Sep 2019 05:20:51 -0700 Corey Smith]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=34870
HELPER, her diminutive robot assistant, closed his mouth, eclipsing the light that had been scanning her features. He hovered silently for a few seconds, processing the data. A ball of anxiety worried her stomach as she awaited his verdict.

GOOD NEWS, LUX! YOU HAVE A CLEAN BILL OF HEALTH! HELPER announced proudly, the sensor flaps of his “ears” giving a little waggle.

Lux looked down at the floor. The worry had not dissipated. You found nothing?

NOTHING! YOUR BRAIN SCAN WAS COMPETELY NORMAL. WELL, SO TO SPEAK. I DIDN'T FIND ANYTHING OUTSIDE THE ORDINARY FOR A PROFESSIONAL WRESTLER WHO INHABITS THE BODY OF A TEENAGE BOY WHO WAS IN A NARCOTICS INDUCED COMA! His chipper tone added a disorienting punctuation mark to the bizarre nature of his declaration.

Lux quirked an eyebrow, and if it was possible for HELPER to have looked sheepish she imagined he did now. IT IS ADMITTEDLY A SMALL SAMPLE SIZE. BUT I ASSURE YOU I FOUND NOTHING THAT WOULD ACCOUNT FOR THE SYMPTOMS YOU REPORTED.

Lux grunted in reply. I wish that made me feel better. With a sigh, she laid back on the bed, and found herself gazing up at the tacky popcorn textured ceiling of her hotel room. I know what I saw HELPER. This wasn't a hallucination....it was real! It was THERE!

BUT YOU SAID THE CAMERA MAN DIDN'T SEE IT? AND IT DID NOT APPEAR ON CAMERA? The robot offered timidly.

Lux scowled. Those WERE the facts. I'm not crazy.

OH OF COURSE NOT! BUT YOU ARE UNDER A LOT OF-

There's more to it. Lux blurted, and immediately cursed herself for doing it. But he had to know.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN?

Seeing.....that boy.... She grimaced. ….isn't the only strange thing that's been happening to me. Lux propped herself up on her elbows now. There's something wrong with my memories.

LIKE...AMNESIA?

She shook her head. No....it's....God, it's hard to explain. She stopped for a moment, trying to filter her frustration into words. There are gaps in my memory, kind of like amnesia. But it feels like...like.... She looked at HELPER now, fresh fear written on her features. It feels like everything that's happened to me is changing. Being edited and rewritten. But it's not done yet. It feels like my memories are a puzzle, and some pieces have dropped away. I know that pieces were SUPPOSED to be there, but I cant remember what they were. And that the image that remains is....shifting. The picture keeps morphing and every time I try to focus on it it just gets blurrier.

HELPER's ear flaps lower, a behavioral quirk he was programmed with representing concern. LUX, I DON'T KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS.

But Lux had a nagging suspicion that she did. Her mentor and friend Orlu often had conversations with Lux late into the night as the time travel project that would ultimately became a desperate 11th hour gambit to stop Aiwass neared fruition. Conversations about the nature of time and theoretical physics. If what one remembered of the future, even as they went back in time to change it, was something immutable for that person. Or, if as the past was altered and thus the future rewritten, if those alterations would be reflected in a person's subjective experience. In short, Lux reasoned, her memories of what is to come could be mutating and adapting due to what she is doing now in 2019.

Or what someone else was doing in response to Lux's actions.

Lux shivered. If that was true, it was proof she was having an impact. Or SOMETHING was. And that when it came to the future of the human race, everything was still very much in the air. Lux surprised herself with a shuddering intake of air as panic threatened to take hold. It was in moments like this that the sheer enormity of what she was doing threatened to devour her. HELPER seemed to notice something was wrong and drew a bit closer.

ARE YOU OK?

I'll be fine. It was unconvincing for sure, but HELPER didn't push. However, he did alter the line of questioning, diverting it to a path that was less world altering but no less an emotional minefield.

LUX, I GET THE SENSE THIS BOY YOU SAW IS SOMEONE FAMILIAR TO YOU.

Lux nodded. He is. Her face went slack. I killed him.

2029


Anatoli Bolgin. Rank of Army General. Supreme Commander of the Russian Ground Forces. Puppet of Aiwass. My next target.

I had been housed in the body of a 47 year old Yugoslavian spinster who died of a surprise brain embolism. She was, quite frankly, doughy, out of shape, and hardly an ideal vessel for assassinating a high ranking warlord from a country that was already being torn asunder by borderline psychotic levels of paranoia. Thankfully, looking nondescript had its advantages. I was on a two month timeline to infiltrate Bolgin's house staff and earn the trust of his family members and cadre of bodygaurds well enough to slip a knife into his aorta and hopefully leave without a trace. A tall order to be sure, not to mention needing to learn a near encyclopedic list of cleaning products to play the part of the indispensable housefrau.

He had a child, naturally. This wasn't a first for me, but try as I might targets with kids always gave me pause. I also knew from experience that, oddly enough, when you were posing as household staff the child's opinion of you was often make or break. Once before I had almost lost control of a mission off the back of an especially bratty child who insisted I left bleach stains all over her prized blazer. I probably did, but screw her anyway.

His name was Pavel. He was a waifish boy of 13, with somewhat hawkish features, unruly jet black hair, and a palette of light freckles that emerged from hiding in the sun. The sun being his natural enemy, it seemed, because in those summer months he was never without a black umbrella to serve as a bulwark against it. Rumors abounded amongst the staff that he had some kind of skin condition. I would later get him to admit that he carried it because he just hated sweating, but mostly because it gave him an air of mystery.

Of course, that revelation would come weeks later. Because our first encounter went something like this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


He was sitting in his father's immaculately curated courtyard, a colorful beach towel splayed out beneath him, black umbrella propped up against the imported Elm tree that towered over him. It was Lux's second day assimilating into Bolgin's staff, and despite a learned reticence Lux knew she had to start making inroads with the man's son. She slowly approached him, doing her best to look demure. She positioned herself so that she was not eclipsing the light filtering onto his book.

[Hello there. My name is Jana. I'm the new housekeeper. Your name is Pavel, right?] She paused, but the boy didn't look up. Canting her head a bit to read the cover of his book, she was mildly surprised to see that he was reading Kafka. [Interesting choice for a young man.] Still silence. Lux groused inwardly. [I'm sorry, is my Russian poor?]

[Your Russian is fine.] He finally looked at her then. [I just want you to piss off.]

Lux set her teeth, eyes narrowing. Her mind raced as her years of training in basic psychology spun through her mind's eye. Pavel's stare never wavered. Lux smiled. And then she snatched the book from his hand.

[What the hell?!]

Lux held the book aloft just out of his reach. [Perhaps you should be reading a treatise on manners instead?] Lux aimed for an air of smirking indifference, but the hammering in her chest would have suggested otherwise.

Pavel glowered, and she noticed with some bemusement how quickly his freckles sprung to the fore when his face flushed. [You're kind of a bitch.] He muttered. But then, a small smile appeared. [I think we'll be alright.]

Lux returned his smile, and his book. It was difficult to not whoop openly at the small success, especially considering it was admittedly rare that her read on someone was this spot on. [I'm glad to hear it. Anything I should be aware of before I tackle the young sir's bedroom?]

Shutting the book, he bore a cheeky expression as he considered her. [I jerk off in all my tube socks.]

Lux grimaced. [All of them?]

[Yes.]

[Well then what do you wear under your shoes?]

He lifted up a leg, dextrously angling it so his toes almost touched his chest. [I don't wear shoes. I am like the American's Huck Finn. But more literate. And with better taste in music.]

[What kind of music do you like then, Huck Finn?]

He looked up, playfully tapping his chin a few times. [I'm fond of the Arcade Fire.]

[They are hipster trash and you should feel bad.] Lux allowed herself a chuckle.

With an astonished look that Lux wasn't quite sure was assumed or legitimate, Pavel shook his head. [Who ARE you?!]

[I am Jana. And I have decided I should not like to clean up your room full of spermy tube socks.]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


He was a weird little shit but I liked him instantly. Pavel would never have spoken the words, not early on at least, but I could tell he liked me too. On a superficial level, I suppose it was because I didn't take any of his shit. On a deeper level, I think it was because he could give me shit and not have to fear anything more than a playful rebuke. My presence became a shelter for him, a place he could be himself without pretense or shame. I accepted him unconditionally, and quickly found that what I had supposed about him was true. Like many traumatized teenage boys, his cynicism was a bulwark against the world. I showed him he could drop his shield. He took a gamble and did.

And all the while I knew he would come away from the experience feeling he had gambled and lost. And that haunted me. Little did I know at that point how much he truly stood to lose.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


She saw him reflected in the floor length mirror of the parlor first. He stepped into the room with a melodramatic flourish, a tiara on his head inlaid with precious stones. Just then, it struck Lux whose tiara that was. Turning about, she intended to set in on chastising him, but Pavel beat her to the punch.

[Ohhhhh...look at me! I am CZARINA DIMA!] Pavel spoke with the effeminate cadence of a high class Russian woman drunk on her own self importance. He was, of course, doing a reasonable impression of his step mother. And the tiara was hers. Lux shuddered to think what manner of countermeasures he had destroyed or circumvented to get at it.

[GATHER ROUND PEASANTRY! GATHER ROUND! For today, I bestow upon you the highest honor! Yes you!] He pointed at Lux and she found herself descending into a giggle despite knowing that Dima or Anatoli's sudden presence would bring death to both of them. Pavel hopped up on a chair and spun himself around so his rear was facing outward. [BY THE ROYAL DECREE OF THE CZARINA, YOU ARE PERMITTED TO SUCK THE SHIT STRAIGHT OUT OF MY ASS!]

Lux rushed to close the parlor door, but mostly to try and conceal the fact that she was about to collapse into hysterical laughter. She wheeled around on the boy and attempted to scold him, but the laughter broke responsibility's seal.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


I knew it was profoundly stupid, letting him in. Letting down my defenses. I was here to destroy his sense of what is normal. I was here to murder his father and anyone else who got in my way. I was here to fill his home with blood.

Nevertheless....I persisted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Something was wrong. Pavel had been secluded in his room for the better part of the day. A rainy day. Nothing soothed Pavel like a rainy day. They had stood together under his umbrella, reaching out beneath it's cover to let the droplets dance over their fingertips in silence. Pavel always smiled when it rained.

Lux knocked at his door, but there was no answer. She knocked again. And again, finally getting a response on the third attempt. [Go away!]

[It's me!]

[Still go away!]

Lux brought her arm down, poised between options. She opted to invade his privacy. Pavel was sitting in his bed, and curiously he averted only his face as soon as she entered. He hollered at her using the wall as a surrogate. [What the fuck is your problem?! What if I was jerking off?!]

[Well then I would have a lifetime of nightmare fuel.] She approached, and he turned violently away from her. So violently Lux stopped abruptly. [Pavel, what's wrong?]

[GET OUT!]

[Pavel....]

[I DON'T EVEN LIKE YOU! I JUST PRETEND TO SO YOU CAN FEEL LIKE YOU'RE MY MOMMY! YOU HAVE A STUPID, INSIPID MOMMY COMPLEX WHICH I PLAY ALONG WITH AND.....]

Lux lunged at him, surprising him. And she gasped.

[Image: e05ea5de2d99f46523989fc5c69d4a63ff757e55.gif]

Violence had been written on his face. Anatoli was the author. He had signed his work with the intractable immunity that power brings. This boy would walk about battered and bloody and no one would say a word.

[Please don't look at my face....] Pavel's voice was toothless. Weak. And it wasn't until that moment that Lux knew how heartbreaking that was. [Don't look....]

She slid down beside him on the bed, and he didn't fight it when she encircled him in her arms. Lux held him well past sundown. Neither of them spoke.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Three days after that I killed Anatoli. Dima was gone that evening, out fucking her masseuse. Anatoli stayed in his room, drinking and mourning the loss of the firmer erections of his youth. I slid a stiletto blade into the base of his spine through the front of his throat. Before he died I spat in the same eye he had blackened on Pavel. It was stupid but I couldn't help myself. In fact, I was full of stupid ideas that night.

I would have had 30 minutes to make my escape. That was how often the guards rotated to check in on Anatoli. But more than enough time to make my escape. More than enough time to avoid being captured and endangering our entire mission. And yet...and yet...I found myself making a hard right down the hall to Pavel's room and shaking him awake. He was confused by the torrent of pressured speech I battered him with. I told him he needed to come with me. That I could take him away from this. I could save him. Naturally, he looked at me sympathetically and sleepily but didn't understand.

Why didn't I just leave him in his bed?

Why didn't I just fucking leave him in his fucking bed?!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Lux leaned against the rugged bark of the tree, chest lit like a furnace. She tried to limit her movement lest her broken ribs grind painfully against each other again. The pain threatened to cripple her senses, but she knew she had to stay alert. Even if only to ensure Pavel's last moments of life were peaceful.

His head was in her lap, and if one didn't know any better they would think he was a typical unafflicted child drifting off to sleep. The darkness concealed the truth of the blood clotting his night shirt. Pavel was gut shot, and Lux still wasn't sure if Anatoli's guard had done so accidentally, or because they thought he was a co-conspirator. In the end, it truly didn't matter. A faint smell of urine was also present, and Lux cursed this additional indignity being heaped upon the boy.

She cried. She wept stupid worthless tears that wouldn't change anything. Perhaps they were even selfish tears, guilty tears. Because Pavel could be truly asleep in his bed now instead of bleeding out in her arms miles from the nearest town. She caressed his inky curls. He moaned in response, and his eyes opened to slits.

[It hurts.]

[I know. I'm sorry.] She wiped away a tear. And then, stupidly. [I killed your father.]

[I know.] His ensuing breath was a deep rattle. [It's fine. He was an asshole.]

A sputter of a laugh escaped Lux's lips. Pavel didn't smile, but he wanted to. Suddenly, his thin body bucked as pain coursed through him. Lux took hold of his shoulders. It seemed like something to do. Like taking a single bucket of water to a raging forest fire. [Tell me what's happening.] Pavel gasped. [I want to understand.]

[I....I don't.....]

[Explain this.]

Her tongue worked idiotically, her brain a waking liability as she tried to make sense of his request. [Um....you....you were shot in the stomach.]

He gasped in reply to another wave of fresh agony. [What...what is happening?]

[What do you.....?!]

[Explain!]

Lux sobbed, and then brought a hand to her mouth to squelch it. Taking a deep breath than inflamed her chest, she pressed forward. [Based on the area of the wound, it is highly likely the bullet punctured your stomach.....]

[That is...bad.] He wheezed.

[You are losing a lot of blood and....and....your stomach is likely leaking....] Lux swallowed. […..leaking stomach acid and bacteria.....but the blood loss is....] She steeled herself. [I can get you to my extraction point in about four hours.]

[No you can't.]

[I will.] Gritting her teeth, she snaked her arms under Pavel's body and tucked her legs up under her. She bit back a pained cry and lifted him up. Pavel screamed. The broken edges of Lux's ribs pressed together and reseparated.

[PLEASE STOP! IT HURTS!]

[We have to go. We have to keep moving!]

Pavel screamed again, shattering Lux's heart. She put him down again, sinking to her knees and laying him gently in her lap as more blood pumped from his wound. Her own torso hitched in fresh agony. Lux took hold of Pavel's hand, interlacing her fingers in his. [I killed you. I killed you.] The words were muttered like a perverse prayer, her fingers working over the boy's cooling knuckles like rosary beads.

[You can't carry me all that way....]

The assassin squeezed her eyes shut as an impotent respite from his truth.

[I don't blame you. I don't hate you.] The boy's voice shuddered, forgiveness pouring out like a breathless staccato. [Just hold me.]

So she did. Until the end of the world.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Are you there, Doctor? It's me, Lux.

Our view transitions into an office fit for a psychiatrist, perhaps? It's all oak wood shelving and leather. You can practically smell it through your screen. Lux is laying down on a couch, emulating that most cliché of therapy scenes. But at the head of the couch is an empty chair with a notebook and a pen sitting on the cushion.

So what do you make of that? It feels strange, talking about it out loud like that. I've never actually discussed it with anyone. Lux smiles, with a touch of sadness. Which makes it doubly strange that I'm telling YOU, Doctor. You know, some would say that I've just rolled over and bared my belly, handing you one of my worst traumas. The mighty Doctor D'Ville, master of mind games, despite what a certain awkward Kiwi might insist. But yes, doctor, I WANTED you to have this. And I wanted to have it too. Clearly it's something I still have to confront.

Lux shifts a bit in the seat, looking straight up at the ceiling. Mostly though, I wanted you to know you can't haunt me. I mean, you COULD. But there's an awfully long line. It's crowded in my head, Doctor. And I know that that's kind of your thing, deep delving into people's psyches. So I thought I should warn you that.... She pauses. …..that nobody haunts me quite like I do.

It's funny that you started with that little soliloquy talking about war. I do have a bit of experience there. And I don't disagree that war is, in some ways, an inevitability. It's also sexy. Let's face facts, nothing gets the blood pumping like a good fight. It's universal. Hard wired. A nation becomes a NATION during times of war. It becomes a common topic of conversation. A default, like the weather or “Go local sports team.” You're never alone in war. Soldiers are never alone either, except with them, that feeling lasts long after the fighting's done. The lucky ones keep the company of the living. The brothers and sisters in arms who weathered the storm with them.

The unlucky keep the company of ghosts. Take a wild guess which one I am? Hint: when I traveled back in time to 2019, my side was LOSING.

So....yeah....long story short....crowded. And they...heh....you know, the shrinks, say that it's healthy to try to let those ghosts go. But try as I might, I cannot conceive of anything more disrespectful. So my dance card stays punched. And all my deceased little lovelies, like Pavel, they stick around.

Lux stops suddenly.

Are you listening?

She shakes her head, looking a little perturbed, but doesn't actually turn about to look at the empty chair. I mean, here I am, trying to make this about US. Trying to build something here with YOU, Doctor. But I guess it just seems like you're absent. Not listening. I'm sure that's not true. A man with your pedigree, I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt.

At any rate, I'm sure you're not slumming it up with the two biggest fecal streaks in the XWF. I'm sure you're not just shoehorning your presence into another half hour protracted scat joke, something that in recent weeks seems to be making a resurgence. No, you're the Great Doctor D'Ville!

I mean, even if you were having some difficulty struggling with your place in the world, struggling to find some new rich experience to relight that pilot and draw you out of yourself, something that'll make you say hallelujah again.... A sharp look at the camera ….surely, SURELY, you would find something better than some lazy glorified pratfall full of tired dick jokes and toilet humor.

Surely.

Lux suddenly sits up, and sees that the chair is empty.

Surely not.

She frowns.

Maybe I wasn't clear enough when I said I wanted DOCTOR D'VILLE, scourge of the XWF. Not some third wheel comedy shtick. Not some old man shaking his fist at the clouds and bemoaning how Facebook and smartphones are destroying the world. By the by, been there, seen that. It ain't Facebook. She pauses. Maybe Twitter though.

I'm not getting the monster vibes here, Louis. And it's more than a tad disappointing. You're bedding down with clowns. With rubbish. When you could TRULY be throwing down with the one who is next in line for a shot at the greatest goddamn championship in the history of this sport.

So I'm going to hang my hat on a possibility that is growing more remote by the minute. I'm going to HOPE that this is all a prelude to something more. Because I can't prove that I can slay the Medusa if she just lies down and TAKES IT.

Doctor, here and now, you need to make a choice. You need to choose if you're the kind of forerunner who simply hands over the torch, or the kind that keeps right on running and makes the poor schmuck in the dust pray they can catch you. I know which one I WANT you to be. The question is if that's what YOU want to be. Because by all means, you're perfectly free to spoil a big return on hijinks with a thin veneer of pseudo-philosophy to try to keep it up out of the dregs, but I really wish you wouldn't waste my time doing it.

Be something worth slaying. Or step aside.

Lux gets up off the couch and moves over to an old radio on the desk nearby. Her hand finds the power button, and then she turns the dial ever so slightly, allowing a familiar tune to begin to play. We see Lux round the desk and depart just out of focus, as the shot focuses in on the radio.




The following morning.


Lux awoke in yet another random hotel room bed, and immediately felt something was amiss. It wasn't the barely familiar surroundings, that had lost it's novelty after her first couple months of being on the road with the XWF. No, it was a weariness of body despite having just awoken. Dimly, Lux remembered that Corey had told her he was going to play cards with Rox and some of the other members of the backstage crew last night. But she had woken up after Corey had had a particularly late night before. This felt different. It felt wrong.

Tossing the thin sheet off her, she saw that Corey hadn't bothered to change before bed. His white t-shirt was sweat stained and smelled terribly. Lux also became aware of, for lack of a better term, a dullness in her head. A mitigating influence symptomatic of....what?

Swinging her legs onto the beige carpeting of the floor, she rose and started to make her way towards the bathroom. But going vertical hit her like a shotgun blast, and she was forced to brace herself on the nightstand. What the fuck....? She huffed before righting herself and fighting her way into the bathroom. Going to the shower, she flicked the knob for hot and ran her hand under the stream for a moment. She caressed her face with some of the dripping water before going to the mirror and....

….huh?

One of her nostrils was encrusted with blood. Immediately, she prodded the bridge of her nose, but nothing seemed broken. There were no signs of bruising on her face. Corey, what did you....?

Lux's heart dropped down into her guts. She pulled a shuddering hand away from her nose, her mouth worked open in a silent “oh” of shock. And then her rage covered the distance between her fist and the mirror. Swift and awful and unthinking. Her knuckles smashed into the glass, over and over, an anguished moan passing between her lips with each blow. The glass shattered, collecting in the sink. Lux's knuckles had already begun to swell, but she ignored it and looked down into the fragments, seeing her face and Corey's refracted endlessly.

How could you! She howled at Corey's reflection. HOW COULD YOU?!

Corey didn't answer. But somebody else did.

I was using that.

Lux turned, and saw Pavel standing just behind her brushing his teeth.

[Image: original.gif]

Flicking the toothbrush from his mouth, he failed to catch a bit of paste as it dribbled down his chin. We need to talk. His hand shoots up, and he taps two fingers gently on her forehead, sending everything straight down into the black.]]>
HELPER, her diminutive robot assistant, closed his mouth, eclipsing the light that had been scanning her features. He hovered silently for a few seconds, processing the data. A ball of anxiety worried her stomach as she awaited his verdict.

GOOD NEWS, LUX! YOU HAVE A CLEAN BILL OF HEALTH! HELPER announced proudly, the sensor flaps of his “ears” giving a little waggle.

Lux looked down at the floor. The worry had not dissipated. You found nothing?

NOTHING! YOUR BRAIN SCAN WAS COMPETELY NORMAL. WELL, SO TO SPEAK. I DIDN'T FIND ANYTHING OUTSIDE THE ORDINARY FOR A PROFESSIONAL WRESTLER WHO INHABITS THE BODY OF A TEENAGE BOY WHO WAS IN A NARCOTICS INDUCED COMA! His chipper tone added a disorienting punctuation mark to the bizarre nature of his declaration.

Lux quirked an eyebrow, and if it was possible for HELPER to have looked sheepish she imagined he did now. IT IS ADMITTEDLY A SMALL SAMPLE SIZE. BUT I ASSURE YOU I FOUND NOTHING THAT WOULD ACCOUNT FOR THE SYMPTOMS YOU REPORTED.

Lux grunted in reply. I wish that made me feel better. With a sigh, she laid back on the bed, and found herself gazing up at the tacky popcorn textured ceiling of her hotel room. I know what I saw HELPER. This wasn't a hallucination....it was real! It was THERE!

BUT YOU SAID THE CAMERA MAN DIDN'T SEE IT? AND IT DID NOT APPEAR ON CAMERA? The robot offered timidly.

Lux scowled. Those WERE the facts. I'm not crazy.

OH OF COURSE NOT! BUT YOU ARE UNDER A LOT OF-

There's more to it. Lux blurted, and immediately cursed herself for doing it. But he had to know.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN?

Seeing.....that boy.... She grimaced. ….isn't the only strange thing that's been happening to me. Lux propped herself up on her elbows now. There's something wrong with my memories.

LIKE...AMNESIA?

She shook her head. No....it's....God, it's hard to explain. She stopped for a moment, trying to filter her frustration into words. There are gaps in my memory, kind of like amnesia. But it feels like...like.... She looked at HELPER now, fresh fear written on her features. It feels like everything that's happened to me is changing. Being edited and rewritten. But it's not done yet. It feels like my memories are a puzzle, and some pieces have dropped away. I know that pieces were SUPPOSED to be there, but I cant remember what they were. And that the image that remains is....shifting. The picture keeps morphing and every time I try to focus on it it just gets blurrier.

HELPER's ear flaps lower, a behavioral quirk he was programmed with representing concern. LUX, I DON'T KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS.

But Lux had a nagging suspicion that she did. Her mentor and friend Orlu often had conversations with Lux late into the night as the time travel project that would ultimately became a desperate 11th hour gambit to stop Aiwass neared fruition. Conversations about the nature of time and theoretical physics. If what one remembered of the future, even as they went back in time to change it, was something immutable for that person. Or, if as the past was altered and thus the future rewritten, if those alterations would be reflected in a person's subjective experience. In short, Lux reasoned, her memories of what is to come could be mutating and adapting due to what she is doing now in 2019.

Or what someone else was doing in response to Lux's actions.

Lux shivered. If that was true, it was proof she was having an impact. Or SOMETHING was. And that when it came to the future of the human race, everything was still very much in the air. Lux surprised herself with a shuddering intake of air as panic threatened to take hold. It was in moments like this that the sheer enormity of what she was doing threatened to devour her. HELPER seemed to notice something was wrong and drew a bit closer.

ARE YOU OK?

I'll be fine. It was unconvincing for sure, but HELPER didn't push. However, he did alter the line of questioning, diverting it to a path that was less world altering but no less an emotional minefield.

LUX, I GET THE SENSE THIS BOY YOU SAW IS SOMEONE FAMILIAR TO YOU.

Lux nodded. He is. Her face went slack. I killed him.

2029


Anatoli Bolgin. Rank of Army General. Supreme Commander of the Russian Ground Forces. Puppet of Aiwass. My next target.

I had been housed in the body of a 47 year old Yugoslavian spinster who died of a surprise brain embolism. She was, quite frankly, doughy, out of shape, and hardly an ideal vessel for assassinating a high ranking warlord from a country that was already being torn asunder by borderline psychotic levels of paranoia. Thankfully, looking nondescript had its advantages. I was on a two month timeline to infiltrate Bolgin's house staff and earn the trust of his family members and cadre of bodygaurds well enough to slip a knife into his aorta and hopefully leave without a trace. A tall order to be sure, not to mention needing to learn a near encyclopedic list of cleaning products to play the part of the indispensable housefrau.

He had a child, naturally. This wasn't a first for me, but try as I might targets with kids always gave me pause. I also knew from experience that, oddly enough, when you were posing as household staff the child's opinion of you was often make or break. Once before I had almost lost control of a mission off the back of an especially bratty child who insisted I left bleach stains all over her prized blazer. I probably did, but screw her anyway.

His name was Pavel. He was a waifish boy of 13, with somewhat hawkish features, unruly jet black hair, and a palette of light freckles that emerged from hiding in the sun. The sun being his natural enemy, it seemed, because in those summer months he was never without a black umbrella to serve as a bulwark against it. Rumors abounded amongst the staff that he had some kind of skin condition. I would later get him to admit that he carried it because he just hated sweating, but mostly because it gave him an air of mystery.

Of course, that revelation would come weeks later. Because our first encounter went something like this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


He was sitting in his father's immaculately curated courtyard, a colorful beach towel splayed out beneath him, black umbrella propped up against the imported Elm tree that towered over him. It was Lux's second day assimilating into Bolgin's staff, and despite a learned reticence Lux knew she had to start making inroads with the man's son. She slowly approached him, doing her best to look demure. She positioned herself so that she was not eclipsing the light filtering onto his book.

[Hello there. My name is Jana. I'm the new housekeeper. Your name is Pavel, right?] She paused, but the boy didn't look up. Canting her head a bit to read the cover of his book, she was mildly surprised to see that he was reading Kafka. [Interesting choice for a young man.] Still silence. Lux groused inwardly. [I'm sorry, is my Russian poor?]

[Your Russian is fine.] He finally looked at her then. [I just want you to piss off.]

Lux set her teeth, eyes narrowing. Her mind raced as her years of training in basic psychology spun through her mind's eye. Pavel's stare never wavered. Lux smiled. And then she snatched the book from his hand.

[What the hell?!]

Lux held the book aloft just out of his reach. [Perhaps you should be reading a treatise on manners instead?] Lux aimed for an air of smirking indifference, but the hammering in her chest would have suggested otherwise.

Pavel glowered, and she noticed with some bemusement how quickly his freckles sprung to the fore when his face flushed. [You're kind of a bitch.] He muttered. But then, a small smile appeared. [I think we'll be alright.]

Lux returned his smile, and his book. It was difficult to not whoop openly at the small success, especially considering it was admittedly rare that her read on someone was this spot on. [I'm glad to hear it. Anything I should be aware of before I tackle the young sir's bedroom?]

Shutting the book, he bore a cheeky expression as he considered her. [I jerk off in all my tube socks.]

Lux grimaced. [All of them?]

[Yes.]

[Well then what do you wear under your shoes?]

He lifted up a leg, dextrously angling it so his toes almost touched his chest. [I don't wear shoes. I am like the American's Huck Finn. But more literate. And with better taste in music.]

[What kind of music do you like then, Huck Finn?]

He looked up, playfully tapping his chin a few times. [I'm fond of the Arcade Fire.]

[They are hipster trash and you should feel bad.] Lux allowed herself a chuckle.

With an astonished look that Lux wasn't quite sure was assumed or legitimate, Pavel shook his head. [Who ARE you?!]

[I am Jana. And I have decided I should not like to clean up your room full of spermy tube socks.]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


He was a weird little shit but I liked him instantly. Pavel would never have spoken the words, not early on at least, but I could tell he liked me too. On a superficial level, I suppose it was because I didn't take any of his shit. On a deeper level, I think it was because he could give me shit and not have to fear anything more than a playful rebuke. My presence became a shelter for him, a place he could be himself without pretense or shame. I accepted him unconditionally, and quickly found that what I had supposed about him was true. Like many traumatized teenage boys, his cynicism was a bulwark against the world. I showed him he could drop his shield. He took a gamble and did.

And all the while I knew he would come away from the experience feeling he had gambled and lost. And that haunted me. Little did I know at that point how much he truly stood to lose.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


She saw him reflected in the floor length mirror of the parlor first. He stepped into the room with a melodramatic flourish, a tiara on his head inlaid with precious stones. Just then, it struck Lux whose tiara that was. Turning about, she intended to set in on chastising him, but Pavel beat her to the punch.

[Ohhhhh...look at me! I am CZARINA DIMA!] Pavel spoke with the effeminate cadence of a high class Russian woman drunk on her own self importance. He was, of course, doing a reasonable impression of his step mother. And the tiara was hers. Lux shuddered to think what manner of countermeasures he had destroyed or circumvented to get at it.

[GATHER ROUND PEASANTRY! GATHER ROUND! For today, I bestow upon you the highest honor! Yes you!] He pointed at Lux and she found herself descending into a giggle despite knowing that Dima or Anatoli's sudden presence would bring death to both of them. Pavel hopped up on a chair and spun himself around so his rear was facing outward. [BY THE ROYAL DECREE OF THE CZARINA, YOU ARE PERMITTED TO SUCK THE SHIT STRAIGHT OUT OF MY ASS!]

Lux rushed to close the parlor door, but mostly to try and conceal the fact that she was about to collapse into hysterical laughter. She wheeled around on the boy and attempted to scold him, but the laughter broke responsibility's seal.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


I knew it was profoundly stupid, letting him in. Letting down my defenses. I was here to destroy his sense of what is normal. I was here to murder his father and anyone else who got in my way. I was here to fill his home with blood.

Nevertheless....I persisted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Something was wrong. Pavel had been secluded in his room for the better part of the day. A rainy day. Nothing soothed Pavel like a rainy day. They had stood together under his umbrella, reaching out beneath it's cover to let the droplets dance over their fingertips in silence. Pavel always smiled when it rained.

Lux knocked at his door, but there was no answer. She knocked again. And again, finally getting a response on the third attempt. [Go away!]

[It's me!]

[Still go away!]

Lux brought her arm down, poised between options. She opted to invade his privacy. Pavel was sitting in his bed, and curiously he averted only his face as soon as she entered. He hollered at her using the wall as a surrogate. [What the fuck is your problem?! What if I was jerking off?!]

[Well then I would have a lifetime of nightmare fuel.] She approached, and he turned violently away from her. So violently Lux stopped abruptly. [Pavel, what's wrong?]

[GET OUT!]

[Pavel....]

[I DON'T EVEN LIKE YOU! I JUST PRETEND TO SO YOU CAN FEEL LIKE YOU'RE MY MOMMY! YOU HAVE A STUPID, INSIPID MOMMY COMPLEX WHICH I PLAY ALONG WITH AND.....]

Lux lunged at him, surprising him. And she gasped.

[Image: e05ea5de2d99f46523989fc5c69d4a63ff757e55.gif]

Violence had been written on his face. Anatoli was the author. He had signed his work with the intractable immunity that power brings. This boy would walk about battered and bloody and no one would say a word.

[Please don't look at my face....] Pavel's voice was toothless. Weak. And it wasn't until that moment that Lux knew how heartbreaking that was. [Don't look....]

She slid down beside him on the bed, and he didn't fight it when she encircled him in her arms. Lux held him well past sundown. Neither of them spoke.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Three days after that I killed Anatoli. Dima was gone that evening, out fucking her masseuse. Anatoli stayed in his room, drinking and mourning the loss of the firmer erections of his youth. I slid a stiletto blade into the base of his spine through the front of his throat. Before he died I spat in the same eye he had blackened on Pavel. It was stupid but I couldn't help myself. In fact, I was full of stupid ideas that night.

I would have had 30 minutes to make my escape. That was how often the guards rotated to check in on Anatoli. But more than enough time to make my escape. More than enough time to avoid being captured and endangering our entire mission. And yet...and yet...I found myself making a hard right down the hall to Pavel's room and shaking him awake. He was confused by the torrent of pressured speech I battered him with. I told him he needed to come with me. That I could take him away from this. I could save him. Naturally, he looked at me sympathetically and sleepily but didn't understand.

Why didn't I just leave him in his bed?

Why didn't I just fucking leave him in his fucking bed?!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Lux leaned against the rugged bark of the tree, chest lit like a furnace. She tried to limit her movement lest her broken ribs grind painfully against each other again. The pain threatened to cripple her senses, but she knew she had to stay alert. Even if only to ensure Pavel's last moments of life were peaceful.

His head was in her lap, and if one didn't know any better they would think he was a typical unafflicted child drifting off to sleep. The darkness concealed the truth of the blood clotting his night shirt. Pavel was gut shot, and Lux still wasn't sure if Anatoli's guard had done so accidentally, or because they thought he was a co-conspirator. In the end, it truly didn't matter. A faint smell of urine was also present, and Lux cursed this additional indignity being heaped upon the boy.

She cried. She wept stupid worthless tears that wouldn't change anything. Perhaps they were even selfish tears, guilty tears. Because Pavel could be truly asleep in his bed now instead of bleeding out in her arms miles from the nearest town. She caressed his inky curls. He moaned in response, and his eyes opened to slits.

[It hurts.]

[I know. I'm sorry.] She wiped away a tear. And then, stupidly. [I killed your father.]

[I know.] His ensuing breath was a deep rattle. [It's fine. He was an asshole.]

A sputter of a laugh escaped Lux's lips. Pavel didn't smile, but he wanted to. Suddenly, his thin body bucked as pain coursed through him. Lux took hold of his shoulders. It seemed like something to do. Like taking a single bucket of water to a raging forest fire. [Tell me what's happening.] Pavel gasped. [I want to understand.]

[I....I don't.....]

[Explain this.]

Her tongue worked idiotically, her brain a waking liability as she tried to make sense of his request. [Um....you....you were shot in the stomach.]

He gasped in reply to another wave of fresh agony. [What...what is happening?]

[What do you.....?!]

[Explain!]

Lux sobbed, and then brought a hand to her mouth to squelch it. Taking a deep breath than inflamed her chest, she pressed forward. [Based on the area of the wound, it is highly likely the bullet punctured your stomach.....]

[That is...bad.] He wheezed.

[You are losing a lot of blood and....and....your stomach is likely leaking....] Lux swallowed. […..leaking stomach acid and bacteria.....but the blood loss is....] She steeled herself. [I can get you to my extraction point in about four hours.]

[No you can't.]

[I will.] Gritting her teeth, she snaked her arms under Pavel's body and tucked her legs up under her. She bit back a pained cry and lifted him up. Pavel screamed. The broken edges of Lux's ribs pressed together and reseparated.

[PLEASE STOP! IT HURTS!]

[We have to go. We have to keep moving!]

Pavel screamed again, shattering Lux's heart. She put him down again, sinking to her knees and laying him gently in her lap as more blood pumped from his wound. Her own torso hitched in fresh agony. Lux took hold of Pavel's hand, interlacing her fingers in his. [I killed you. I killed you.] The words were muttered like a perverse prayer, her fingers working over the boy's cooling knuckles like rosary beads.

[You can't carry me all that way....]

The assassin squeezed her eyes shut as an impotent respite from his truth.

[I don't blame you. I don't hate you.] The boy's voice shuddered, forgiveness pouring out like a breathless staccato. [Just hold me.]

So she did. Until the end of the world.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Are you there, Doctor? It's me, Lux.

Our view transitions into an office fit for a psychiatrist, perhaps? It's all oak wood shelving and leather. You can practically smell it through your screen. Lux is laying down on a couch, emulating that most cliché of therapy scenes. But at the head of the couch is an empty chair with a notebook and a pen sitting on the cushion.

So what do you make of that? It feels strange, talking about it out loud like that. I've never actually discussed it with anyone. Lux smiles, with a touch of sadness. Which makes it doubly strange that I'm telling YOU, Doctor. You know, some would say that I've just rolled over and bared my belly, handing you one of my worst traumas. The mighty Doctor D'Ville, master of mind games, despite what a certain awkward Kiwi might insist. But yes, doctor, I WANTED you to have this. And I wanted to have it too. Clearly it's something I still have to confront.

Lux shifts a bit in the seat, looking straight up at the ceiling. Mostly though, I wanted you to know you can't haunt me. I mean, you COULD. But there's an awfully long line. It's crowded in my head, Doctor. And I know that that's kind of your thing, deep delving into people's psyches. So I thought I should warn you that.... She pauses. …..that nobody haunts me quite like I do.

It's funny that you started with that little soliloquy talking about war. I do have a bit of experience there. And I don't disagree that war is, in some ways, an inevitability. It's also sexy. Let's face facts, nothing gets the blood pumping like a good fight. It's universal. Hard wired. A nation becomes a NATION during times of war. It becomes a common topic of conversation. A default, like the weather or “Go local sports team.” You're never alone in war. Soldiers are never alone either, except with them, that feeling lasts long after the fighting's done. The lucky ones keep the company of the living. The brothers and sisters in arms who weathered the storm with them.

The unlucky keep the company of ghosts. Take a wild guess which one I am? Hint: when I traveled back in time to 2019, my side was LOSING.

So....yeah....long story short....crowded. And they...heh....you know, the shrinks, say that it's healthy to try to let those ghosts go. But try as I might, I cannot conceive of anything more disrespectful. So my dance card stays punched. And all my deceased little lovelies, like Pavel, they stick around.

Lux stops suddenly.

Are you listening?

She shakes her head, looking a little perturbed, but doesn't actually turn about to look at the empty chair. I mean, here I am, trying to make this about US. Trying to build something here with YOU, Doctor. But I guess it just seems like you're absent. Not listening. I'm sure that's not true. A man with your pedigree, I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt.

At any rate, I'm sure you're not slumming it up with the two biggest fecal streaks in the XWF. I'm sure you're not just shoehorning your presence into another half hour protracted scat joke, something that in recent weeks seems to be making a resurgence. No, you're the Great Doctor D'Ville!

I mean, even if you were having some difficulty struggling with your place in the world, struggling to find some new rich experience to relight that pilot and draw you out of yourself, something that'll make you say hallelujah again.... A sharp look at the camera ….surely, SURELY, you would find something better than some lazy glorified pratfall full of tired dick jokes and toilet humor.

Surely.

Lux suddenly sits up, and sees that the chair is empty.

Surely not.

She frowns.

Maybe I wasn't clear enough when I said I wanted DOCTOR D'VILLE, scourge of the XWF. Not some third wheel comedy shtick. Not some old man shaking his fist at the clouds and bemoaning how Facebook and smartphones are destroying the world. By the by, been there, seen that. It ain't Facebook. She pauses. Maybe Twitter though.

I'm not getting the monster vibes here, Louis. And it's more than a tad disappointing. You're bedding down with clowns. With rubbish. When you could TRULY be throwing down with the one who is next in line for a shot at the greatest goddamn championship in the history of this sport.

So I'm going to hang my hat on a possibility that is growing more remote by the minute. I'm going to HOPE that this is all a prelude to something more. Because I can't prove that I can slay the Medusa if she just lies down and TAKES IT.

Doctor, here and now, you need to make a choice. You need to choose if you're the kind of forerunner who simply hands over the torch, or the kind that keeps right on running and makes the poor schmuck in the dust pray they can catch you. I know which one I WANT you to be. The question is if that's what YOU want to be. Because by all means, you're perfectly free to spoil a big return on hijinks with a thin veneer of pseudo-philosophy to try to keep it up out of the dregs, but I really wish you wouldn't waste my time doing it.

Be something worth slaying. Or step aside.

Lux gets up off the couch and moves over to an old radio on the desk nearby. Her hand finds the power button, and then she turns the dial ever so slightly, allowing a familiar tune to begin to play. We see Lux round the desk and depart just out of focus, as the shot focuses in on the radio.




The following morning.


Lux awoke in yet another random hotel room bed, and immediately felt something was amiss. It wasn't the barely familiar surroundings, that had lost it's novelty after her first couple months of being on the road with the XWF. No, it was a weariness of body despite having just awoken. Dimly, Lux remembered that Corey had told her he was going to play cards with Rox and some of the other members of the backstage crew last night. But she had woken up after Corey had had a particularly late night before. This felt different. It felt wrong.

Tossing the thin sheet off her, she saw that Corey hadn't bothered to change before bed. His white t-shirt was sweat stained and smelled terribly. Lux also became aware of, for lack of a better term, a dullness in her head. A mitigating influence symptomatic of....what?

Swinging her legs onto the beige carpeting of the floor, she rose and started to make her way towards the bathroom. But going vertical hit her like a shotgun blast, and she was forced to brace herself on the nightstand. What the fuck....? She huffed before righting herself and fighting her way into the bathroom. Going to the shower, she flicked the knob for hot and ran her hand under the stream for a moment. She caressed her face with some of the dripping water before going to the mirror and....

….huh?

One of her nostrils was encrusted with blood. Immediately, she prodded the bridge of her nose, but nothing seemed broken. There were no signs of bruising on her face. Corey, what did you....?

Lux's heart dropped down into her guts. She pulled a shuddering hand away from her nose, her mouth worked open in a silent “oh” of shock. And then her rage covered the distance between her fist and the mirror. Swift and awful and unthinking. Her knuckles smashed into the glass, over and over, an anguished moan passing between her lips with each blow. The glass shattered, collecting in the sink. Lux's knuckles had already begun to swell, but she ignored it and looked down into the fragments, seeing her face and Corey's refracted endlessly.

How could you! She howled at Corey's reflection. HOW COULD YOU?!

Corey didn't answer. But somebody else did.

I was using that.

Lux turned, and saw Pavel standing just behind her brushing his teeth.

[Image: original.gif]

Flicking the toothbrush from his mouth, he failed to catch a bit of paste as it dribbled down his chin. We need to talk. His hand shoots up, and he taps two fingers gently on her forehead, sending everything straight down into the black.]]> <![CDATA[So i went fishin' the other day and the cameraman caught me there.]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=34862 Fri, 20 Sep 2019 20:41:40 -0700 Thunder Knuckles™]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=34862
Hey, cameraman your back! Glad to see you again.

Miami, Florida!!!!! Home of the HEAT!!! You guys used to be good when Lebron James played here you remember that? Winning championships! All a thing of the past now huh?

Thunder Knuckle laughs and the piece of straw gets caught by the wind and flies off to the right. He reels in his line and you see his bobber and nothing on his hook, not even his bait.

The Miami Dolphins!!!! Gone are the days Larry Csonka can help win Superbowls.

Thunder Knuckles pauses as he puts bait on his hook. He pricks his finger on the hook before finally getting the worm on the hook.

YEOW! Fucking piece of shit!

He then cast out his line with his bobber on it out again

How about the Miami Marlins!!!! I thought about buying them a few years ago. They were selling it dirt cheap. So i thought to myself I should give that failing organization the Ohio touch. Kinda like when Ken Griffy Jr. played there. However, I changed my mind quickly when I realized I'd have to spend time here.

The line is still in the water and his bobber is...bobbing.

The Florida Panthers have always best a steaming pile of shit, but I have a theory for that. You see that's the only sports team you never got a native Ohioan from. So I'd suggest you fix that or they'll never be a contender.

Thunder Knuckles bobber is going crazy! bobbing up and down rapidly!

Oh, shit boys! I think I got something huge!!!!

Thunder Knuckles reels in with all his might and the moment the “fish” comes out the water you seeeeeee.














A bucket...a plain old piece of shit rusty bucket.

I fucking hate fishing! The moral of the story is that the only thing I'm fishing for is….xbux. I figured that be pretty fucking obvious by now.

Thunder Knuckles throws his fishing pole in the water bobber and all.

He mutters to himself

Fucking XWF FISHING CONTEST. I still don't know the fucking point to all this, but Vinnie has a master plan and a vision for the company...bullshit...I better be getting paid for all this shit. I swear to God. I even lost my piece of straw. Do you know how hard it is to find straw in a shit box town like this? Miami fucking sucks.

He yells at the cameraman who is still trying to follow him.

Don’t follow me ya fucking shit hawk! I got work to do!

Thunder Knuckles is seen walking away from the cameraman giving the middle finger.]]>
Hey, cameraman your back! Glad to see you again.

Miami, Florida!!!!! Home of the HEAT!!! You guys used to be good when Lebron James played here you remember that? Winning championships! All a thing of the past now huh?

Thunder Knuckle laughs and the piece of straw gets caught by the wind and flies off to the right. He reels in his line and you see his bobber and nothing on his hook, not even his bait.

The Miami Dolphins!!!! Gone are the days Larry Csonka can help win Superbowls.

Thunder Knuckles pauses as he puts bait on his hook. He pricks his finger on the hook before finally getting the worm on the hook.

YEOW! Fucking piece of shit!

He then cast out his line with his bobber on it out again

How about the Miami Marlins!!!! I thought about buying them a few years ago. They were selling it dirt cheap. So i thought to myself I should give that failing organization the Ohio touch. Kinda like when Ken Griffy Jr. played there. However, I changed my mind quickly when I realized I'd have to spend time here.

The line is still in the water and his bobber is...bobbing.

The Florida Panthers have always best a steaming pile of shit, but I have a theory for that. You see that's the only sports team you never got a native Ohioan from. So I'd suggest you fix that or they'll never be a contender.

Thunder Knuckles bobber is going crazy! bobbing up and down rapidly!

Oh, shit boys! I think I got something huge!!!!

Thunder Knuckles reels in with all his might and the moment the “fish” comes out the water you seeeeeee.














A bucket...a plain old piece of shit rusty bucket.

I fucking hate fishing! The moral of the story is that the only thing I'm fishing for is….xbux. I figured that be pretty fucking obvious by now.

Thunder Knuckles throws his fishing pole in the water bobber and all.

He mutters to himself

Fucking XWF FISHING CONTEST. I still don't know the fucking point to all this, but Vinnie has a master plan and a vision for the company...bullshit...I better be getting paid for all this shit. I swear to God. I even lost my piece of straw. Do you know how hard it is to find straw in a shit box town like this? Miami fucking sucks.

He yells at the cameraman who is still trying to follow him.

Don’t follow me ya fucking shit hawk! I got work to do!

Thunder Knuckles is seen walking away from the cameraman giving the middle finger.]]> <![CDATA[Ned Kaye and Drew Archyle Culturally Appropriate Australia]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=34844 Thu, 19 Sep 2019 23:58:31 -0700 Ned Kaye]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=34844
"I don't know about this."

The scene opens on Ned Kaye, head in his hands in what appears to be a coach seat in an airplane. Seated next to him is APEX founding member and self-proclaimed cat expert, Drew Archyle.

"You know, we wouldn't have to go through with this if you didn't abuse your ownership of your feline friends."

"For the umpteenth time, this wasn't my idea, Drew!"

Ned throws his hands up in frustration, nearly hitting someone in another seat with how cramped they all are. He sighs, leaning back in his chair to the best of his ability. A small chime is heard as Drew retorts.

"Well, then you have to prove that to me, Ned! And this is the only way!"

The Notorious One rolls his eyes.

"I hardly see how this is going to help me face Noah more effectively. I could be sending time with Deety right now or working on my technique. But instead, I let you convince me to go on this- this... scheme of yours! What is this going to accomplish?"

Drew's face turns sour, revealing how supremely done he is with Kaye's repeated complaining.

"He's trying to take your cat, Ned! That's your pet, regardless of the kinky name!"

"It's not about the sex act, it's about-"

"Yeah, yeah, Nixon or some shit. I don't really care! He could've taken so many other things from you, but he chose this, Ned! He knew what he was doing! So, now you gotta take something away from him!"

"Is that why we're going to Australia? To rob Noah?"

Ned gives Drew a perplexed, somewhat horrified look.

"We're not taking his shit! We're taking something more important!"

A stewardess appears out of frame, leaning over to speak to the two men, making certain she appears on camera.

"Um, excuse me, sirs? Could you please keep it down? We have other guests trying to sleep."

"Of course, my apologies."

"I'll make sure he doesn't get too loud again."

The stewardess awkwardly hangs in frame before being pulled away by one of the cameramen.

"Anyway, what do you associate with Noah fucking Jackson? Give me a few traits."

Ned thinks for a moment, still utterly confused.

"...He's an asshole."

"A different trait."

"Narcissist."

"Still no!"

"He's Australian?"

"Exactly!"

Drew's voice nearly shakes the seats they're in, Ned beginning to apologize to some of the other passengers quietly.

"If he wants to try and take your furry companion, then you're gonna take his culture! You're gonna out cunt the cunt!"

Looking into Drew's eyes, Ned notices the staunch determination coloring his face. In a short moment, Kaye nearly folds, dropping his head into his hands.

"I... I hate this. I hate this so much."

---------------

The scene cuts to Ned and Drew outside of a 7-Eleven with several TimTams and Vegemite. Drew has preemptively dipped one of the biscuits in the... unsettling substance, pushing it into the face of The Notorious One.

"No. Absolutely not."

"Come onnnnnnnnnnnnn."

"No."

"Eat it, Ned."

"Not gonna happen."

The former Tag Team Champion begins to become indignant, raising his voice.

"Come onnnn! If you act this way the whole time, this whole trip will be wasted! And I used your card for it, so that's really only a loss for you."

"You did WHA-"

Drew quickly shoves the TimTam-Vegemite combo into Ned's mouth, who chews it carefully.

"Hey, you know, this isn't that ba-"

There is an immediate cut to Drew standing outside a restroom, loud wretching sounds being heard from behind the door.

---------------

The next scene shows Ned and Drew at a nice looking steakhouse, Ned visibly more pale than usual.

"... I think my body is trying to reject this country and everything about it."

Drew frowns, doing his best to raise Ned's spirits.

"Hey, hey! Don't fret, kid! This place has got some of the best beef on the planet."

Ned stares at the plate in front of his, appearing to be a very well cooked ribeye.

"Hey... didn't you pay for this with my money?"

"Huh? Oh, no, no. I just said that so I could stuff that cookie thing in your mouth."

"So... who's paying for this?"

"Somebody."

Ned shrugs, deciding to take a bite of the steak, his face instantly lighting up.

"Whoa..."

"Am I right or am I right?"

Ned nods, smiling a bit.

"Maybe this isn't so bad. Thanks for talking me out here."

Drew smiles as Ned stuffs his face, talking with his mouth full.

"So, where to next?"

---------------

The scene cuts to an Australian pub, Ned and Drew sitting at the bar, Almond milk in front of them both.

"Do you even drink?"

"Nah."

The two sit in silence for a moment. Ned looks around the empty pub, trying to see if there's anything else available to them.

"This wasn't a very well thought out idea."

---------------

Suddenly, there's a cut to Ned and Drew in the Australian Outback, watching closely in wonder at an animal out of the camera's sight.

"Wow..."

"Isn't that creature just magnificent?"

The camera spins to reveal none other than a kangaroo, truly the most majestic of the animal kingdom. Drew nudges Ned forward as The Notorious One stares in beguiled awe.

"Go on, make friends! Noah ain't even seen one o' these before!"

Entranced, Ned steps forward, getting ever so closer to the animal.

"What an amazing creature..."

"I knew this was a good id-"

As soon as Ned reaches an arm's length, the kangaroo kicks him in the face, knocking him out immediately.

"Oh shi-"

The scene cuts to black as Drew and the camera crew rush to check on Ned.]]>
"I don't know about this."

The scene opens on Ned Kaye, head in his hands in what appears to be a coach seat in an airplane. Seated next to him is APEX founding member and self-proclaimed cat expert, Drew Archyle.

"You know, we wouldn't have to go through with this if you didn't abuse your ownership of your feline friends."

"For the umpteenth time, this wasn't my idea, Drew!"

Ned throws his hands up in frustration, nearly hitting someone in another seat with how cramped they all are. He sighs, leaning back in his chair to the best of his ability. A small chime is heard as Drew retorts.

"Well, then you have to prove that to me, Ned! And this is the only way!"

The Notorious One rolls his eyes.

"I hardly see how this is going to help me face Noah more effectively. I could be sending time with Deety right now or working on my technique. But instead, I let you convince me to go on this- this... scheme of yours! What is this going to accomplish?"

Drew's face turns sour, revealing how supremely done he is with Kaye's repeated complaining.

"He's trying to take your cat, Ned! That's your pet, regardless of the kinky name!"

"It's not about the sex act, it's about-"

"Yeah, yeah, Nixon or some shit. I don't really care! He could've taken so many other things from you, but he chose this, Ned! He knew what he was doing! So, now you gotta take something away from him!"

"Is that why we're going to Australia? To rob Noah?"

Ned gives Drew a perplexed, somewhat horrified look.

"We're not taking his shit! We're taking something more important!"

A stewardess appears out of frame, leaning over to speak to the two men, making certain she appears on camera.

"Um, excuse me, sirs? Could you please keep it down? We have other guests trying to sleep."

"Of course, my apologies."

"I'll make sure he doesn't get too loud again."

The stewardess awkwardly hangs in frame before being pulled away by one of the cameramen.

"Anyway, what do you associate with Noah fucking Jackson? Give me a few traits."

Ned thinks for a moment, still utterly confused.

"...He's an asshole."

"A different trait."

"Narcissist."

"Still no!"

"He's Australian?"

"Exactly!"

Drew's voice nearly shakes the seats they're in, Ned beginning to apologize to some of the other passengers quietly.

"If he wants to try and take your furry companion, then you're gonna take his culture! You're gonna out cunt the cunt!"

Looking into Drew's eyes, Ned notices the staunch determination coloring his face. In a short moment, Kaye nearly folds, dropping his head into his hands.

"I... I hate this. I hate this so much."

---------------

The scene cuts to Ned and Drew outside of a 7-Eleven with several TimTams and Vegemite. Drew has preemptively dipped one of the biscuits in the... unsettling substance, pushing it into the face of The Notorious One.

"No. Absolutely not."

"Come onnnnnnnnnnnnn."

"No."

"Eat it, Ned."

"Not gonna happen."

The former Tag Team Champion begins to become indignant, raising his voice.

"Come onnnn! If you act this way the whole time, this whole trip will be wasted! And I used your card for it, so that's really only a loss for you."

"You did WHA-"

Drew quickly shoves the TimTam-Vegemite combo into Ned's mouth, who chews it carefully.

"Hey, you know, this isn't that ba-"

There is an immediate cut to Drew standing outside a restroom, loud wretching sounds being heard from behind the door.

---------------

The next scene shows Ned and Drew at a nice looking steakhouse, Ned visibly more pale than usual.

"... I think my body is trying to reject this country and everything about it."

Drew frowns, doing his best to raise Ned's spirits.

"Hey, hey! Don't fret, kid! This place has got some of the best beef on the planet."

Ned stares at the plate in front of his, appearing to be a very well cooked ribeye.

"Hey... didn't you pay for this with my money?"

"Huh? Oh, no, no. I just said that so I could stuff that cookie thing in your mouth."

"So... who's paying for this?"

"Somebody."

Ned shrugs, deciding to take a bite of the steak, his face instantly lighting up.

"Whoa..."

"Am I right or am I right?"

Ned nods, smiling a bit.

"Maybe this isn't so bad. Thanks for talking me out here."

Drew smiles as Ned stuffs his face, talking with his mouth full.

"So, where to next?"

---------------

The scene cuts to an Australian pub, Ned and Drew sitting at the bar, Almond milk in front of them both.

"Do you even drink?"

"Nah."

The two sit in silence for a moment. Ned looks around the empty pub, trying to see if there's anything else available to them.

"This wasn't a very well thought out idea."

---------------

Suddenly, there's a cut to Ned and Drew in the Australian Outback, watching closely in wonder at an animal out of the camera's sight.

"Wow..."

"Isn't that creature just magnificent?"

The camera spins to reveal none other than a kangaroo, truly the most majestic of the animal kingdom. Drew nudges Ned forward as The Notorious One stares in beguiled awe.

"Go on, make friends! Noah ain't even seen one o' these before!"

Entranced, Ned steps forward, getting ever so closer to the animal.

"What an amazing creature..."

"I knew this was a good id-"

As soon as Ned reaches an arm's length, the kangaroo kicks him in the face, knocking him out immediately.

"Oh shi-"

The scene cuts to black as Drew and the camera crew rush to check on Ned.]]> <![CDATA[Mindbreaker]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=34848 Thu, 19 Sep 2019 23:57:18 -0700 Isabella Ravenwolf]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=34848
Officer Hoover sighed deeply as he started to walk over to the distraught mother. The man was young twenty something rookie. He had no idea what to even ask Sally. Officer Hoover sat next to Sally. Taking out his pen and notebook, he once again sighed. Tonight was his first ever call as a cop. The inside of that house would haunt him til the day he died, but he had a job to do and he was going to do it.

"Ma'am." Hoover asked."I wanted to ask you some questions. If you're okay to answer. I understand if you're not ready. I'll wait til you are."

"W-why did this happen to me" Sally said suddenly. Hoover was caught off guard at the question.

"Ma'am? I don't understand what you mean?"

"I always went to church, I have faith. I tried to spread love and joy but it wasn't enough. God is punishing me. Yes, that has to be it. I'm being punished."

Officer Hoover was taken aback by her comments. She wasn't making an sense. Not one bit.

"Ma'am. I need to ask you a few th-" The policeman was cut off when Sally stood up and just stared off into the night. Hoover stood up next to her, not having a clue what to say or do. He tried to speak up but was interrupted once again by Sally.

"My baby, where's my baby. It's her feeding time. Mommy has to feed her bundle of joy."

The woman's mind was shattering as her world spun out of control. She was coming undone. Sally turned to Officer Hoover who was just looking at her with confusion in his eyes.

"Ma'am. Are you alright?"

"It was you, you're the one who took my baby. Give her back. Give her back now!"

Sally pounced on the rookie cop and started to hit and scratch his face with her nails. Hoover tried his best to defend himself, but her attack was so sudden. He didn't have time and before he could fully react. Sally bit into his neck, her teeth sank into his flesh before she torn it open with one power yank. She had managed to rip his jugular. Blood flowed like a river and Officer Hoover began to choke on his own blood. Sally didn't stop, she slashed and tore into his neck more. Other policemen saw what was happening, they drew their guns. One man yelled at her to stop but she couldn't hear a single word. She was lost in the void and only death was the way out. The cops had no choice but to gun her down to put an end to the madness. Sally's lifeless body laid next to Officer Hoover as he made his last gasp for air only to be in vain, as he too slipped into darkness. The light of life gone from his eyes.



"Oh my, poor Sally. She simply couldn't handle the stress of losing her most beloved people. This is what happens when you do not have a strong spirit. People like Sally will break, their minds cracking before they spin out of control and fall into The Void. I must admit. It's very entertaining to watch. Why do I bring this poor soul up? To show my opponents what they all have in common. They do not have the will to win this battle. Each and every one of them will suffer just like Miss Sally. I shall break their minds, their spirit and their will to move forward. Jim Jimson, The Wretched Nobody, Barney Green, Thunder Knuckles, Tyler Cross, Finn Kuhn. Each of these fools are a waste of my time, but I shall deal with them for I want to win. I don't even need to use my magic to defeat such utter trash."

"One by one they will be tossed down the water below as I remain the sole victor. I need not worry about such weak men like Finn Kuhn, a fool and a try hard or Barney Green, a washed up meaningless waste of a life. Each and every one of them will fall by my hands. I thought that maybe there would be someone of note showing up, since it is an open match but no. I am left disappointed. Not a single one of these wretched slugs have anything of note to speak about. I find myself vexed at the sight of them. So much weakness, nothing to be feared, but I shall deal with you all. Only to teach you where you stand in your sad and lonely lives. The amount of pain and suffering you all are going to go through, you will beg me to end it and all you'll get for an answer is my lovely smile as I do what I wish."]]>
Officer Hoover sighed deeply as he started to walk over to the distraught mother. The man was young twenty something rookie. He had no idea what to even ask Sally. Officer Hoover sat next to Sally. Taking out his pen and notebook, he once again sighed. Tonight was his first ever call as a cop. The inside of that house would haunt him til the day he died, but he had a job to do and he was going to do it.

"Ma'am." Hoover asked."I wanted to ask you some questions. If you're okay to answer. I understand if you're not ready. I'll wait til you are."

"W-why did this happen to me" Sally said suddenly. Hoover was caught off guard at the question.

"Ma'am? I don't understand what you mean?"

"I always went to church, I have faith. I tried to spread love and joy but it wasn't enough. God is punishing me. Yes, that has to be it. I'm being punished."

Officer Hoover was taken aback by her comments. She wasn't making an sense. Not one bit.

"Ma'am. I need to ask you a few th-" The policeman was cut off when Sally stood up and just stared off into the night. Hoover stood up next to her, not having a clue what to say or do. He tried to speak up but was interrupted once again by Sally.

"My baby, where's my baby. It's her feeding time. Mommy has to feed her bundle of joy."

The woman's mind was shattering as her world spun out of control. She was coming undone. Sally turned to Officer Hoover who was just looking at her with confusion in his eyes.

"Ma'am. Are you alright?"

"It was you, you're the one who took my baby. Give her back. Give her back now!"

Sally pounced on the rookie cop and started to hit and scratch his face with her nails. Hoover tried his best to defend himself, but her attack was so sudden. He didn't have time and before he could fully react. Sally bit into his neck, her teeth sank into his flesh before she torn it open with one power yank. She had managed to rip his jugular. Blood flowed like a river and Officer Hoover began to choke on his own blood. Sally didn't stop, she slashed and tore into his neck more. Other policemen saw what was happening, they drew their guns. One man yelled at her to stop but she couldn't hear a single word. She was lost in the void and only death was the way out. The cops had no choice but to gun her down to put an end to the madness. Sally's lifeless body laid next to Officer Hoover as he made his last gasp for air only to be in vain, as he too slipped into darkness. The light of life gone from his eyes.



"Oh my, poor Sally. She simply couldn't handle the stress of losing her most beloved people. This is what happens when you do not have a strong spirit. People like Sally will break, their minds cracking before they spin out of control and fall into The Void. I must admit. It's very entertaining to watch. Why do I bring this poor soul up? To show my opponents what they all have in common. They do not have the will to win this battle. Each and every one of them will suffer just like Miss Sally. I shall break their minds, their spirit and their will to move forward. Jim Jimson, The Wretched Nobody, Barney Green, Thunder Knuckles, Tyler Cross, Finn Kuhn. Each of these fools are a waste of my time, but I shall deal with them for I want to win. I don't even need to use my magic to defeat such utter trash."

"One by one they will be tossed down the water below as I remain the sole victor. I need not worry about such weak men like Finn Kuhn, a fool and a try hard or Barney Green, a washed up meaningless waste of a life. Each and every one of them will fall by my hands. I thought that maybe there would be someone of note showing up, since it is an open match but no. I am left disappointed. Not a single one of these wretched slugs have anything of note to speak about. I find myself vexed at the sight of them. So much weakness, nothing to be feared, but I shall deal with you all. Only to teach you where you stand in your sad and lonely lives. The amount of pain and suffering you all are going to go through, you will beg me to end it and all you'll get for an answer is my lovely smile as I do what I wish."]]> <![CDATA[Voyage]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=34847 Thu, 19 Sep 2019 23:56:12 -0700 Doctor Louis D'Ville]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=34847




                                                                                                                              





































































[Image: XyTjvsM.png]


"This is the way the world ends, not with a bang, but a whimper."
- T. S. Elliot


VOYAGE






The year is 2019.

Everyone's feelings are hurt.

And the the world is at mercy to the machines.

Life, as we know it, has changed.

But war? War is a constant.

Never in the existence of anything has peace ever been an option. Natural selection, in it's simplest form, just would not allow that to happen. Resources run out or dry up. Things get greedy. When there is no other choices but to step forward or die, you do just that. An ecosystem cannot function without destruction or reconstruction. Humans seem to have a knack for both. At all corners of the globe, you can watch the constant paranoia of someone finding a stray dagger in their back. They were doing just fine destroying themselves, its not like they needed any help.

The turn of the millennium was supposed to be something spectacular. Instead, it filled people with fear and caused worldwide panic for a couple of years. If you didn't think every single computer was going to crash and erase everyone's hard-earned savings then you were probably looking forward to the rapture. A group of programmers in the 1980s didn't cross of few T's and boom. Judgement Day. That was the first time that it was clear who was really in charge.

Was 11:59PM on December 31, 1999 the final countdown?

Not at all.

The world continued to spin. Jesus took a raincheck. A light never flickered. A couple of nerds added 2 digits to a program and saved the world.

Just twenty, short years after the end of the world, every human now comes equipped with an electronic extension to themselves. Anyone with the dollars can have in their possession their very own all-knowing, all-seeing, all-telling device that fits right in their pocket. You are now as smart as your abilities to use these tools. Provide it with a destination and it will guide you where to go. Tell it your deepest desires and it will find them for you. Share yourself with the entire world through a talking camera phone connected with billions of others. After thousands of years of humans struggling to co-exist with each other, you still don't trust your own neighbor. Yet, just twenty years after Judgement Day, you do not hesitate to let it keep track or run your life for you, with no conscience to tell itself 'No' and no feeling of it's own betrayal to it's creators. The biggest concerns now come in the form of Twitter feeds and egos. Its like the threat to humanity never happened.

The year is 2019.

And everyone's a bunch of butt-hurt cyborgs.
Hold-up. Time for a selfie.


Part One

[Image: dtTIuyy.png]

The world sits still. A thick blanket of fog covers everythiing in sight as if the ghost ship was drifting across clouds in the night sky. Universal Soldier sits, perched, at the bow of the ship and peers into the fog with a 666 millimeter-long spyglass, but to no avail. Discouraged, the UNVERSAL Champion steps back and crosses the ship to where his first mate, Peter Gilmour, steers the ship blindly into the mist.

Its no use, Peter! We'll never find Siberia in this bloody muck! Steady as she goes, dawn is imminent and THEN we'll surely find our way easier, ARGH!

We've been sailing like this for hours, Soldier. Are you sure we're going in the right way? I've banged plenty of sluts from Siberia before and they've always said its pretty cold there. I don't feel very cold right now.

NONSENSE PETER! Your mail-ordered hussies are no match for our tools! Check your instruments! Fog or no fog, the ship from Pirates of the Caribbean can't steer us wayward!

Peter takes his hands from the starwheel and inspects his instrument. Soldier pulls large gold compass from his pocket and opens it. It spins around 666 times as he watches. He nods and places it back in his pocket.

For those who may not be tuned in. Unknown Soldier, the new XWF UNIVERSAL Champion, and his first mate, Peter Gilmour, are on the search for the one and only Sid Feder in order to regain the XWF Trios Championship that the team once had. After several harrassing phone calls to XWF Executive Theo Pryce, the location of said Feder was revealed and the voyage began.

Everything checks out to me---!! NOT YOUR HOME-WRECKER, PETER! The SHIP'S instruments!

Peter conceals his weapon and quickly places his hands back on the starwheel while looking around it. He sees no such instruments.

Uhrm? Are you sure the ship from Pirates of the Caribbean came with instruments?

Ignoring Peter's statement, something catches Soldier's eye through the dense fog. Peter squints past his captain in an attempt to see what has the demon dick defiler so captivated. Suddenly, Soldier spins around with a horrid meth-toothed grin!

Do ye see what I see, Peter?!

Peter winces as tries harder and harder to peer through the fog which is finally starting to lift as the sun peers over the horizon. Its not nearly enough to see clearly, but in the distance, a sillhoutte of a volanco is barely visible.

Looks like a giant dick.

The horrid smile on Soldier's face turns sour.

What the fuck, Pete?

What? It does.

Soldier storms over and hangs over Peter's shoulders and points ahead!

LAAAAAAAND HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!

Soldier then shoulders Peter out of the way and takes control of the ship! He kicks his foot on the deck 666 times and reveals a compartment under the ship's deck. A large lever rises up and locks into the ships deck floor beside the starwheel.

You may want to grab ahold of that thing again, Peter....

Say what?

Before Pete could react Soldier uses all of his weight and jumps onto the large lever pushing it foward. The front of the ghost ship flies up into the air as she begins to pick up crazy momentum! The speed is so great that Pete's feet leave the deck floor, but before he flies off the ship he manages to grab the center mast of the ship and holds on for dear life! Soldier holds onto the starwheel like nothing with a long meth-stained tongue trailing two-feet behind him flapping in the wind.

WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!?!

Peter's confusion isn't without question! This ghost ship turned into a damn speed boat! Peter continues to hold on, but his grip slowly begins to slip as the mast is too big for even the KING OF XTREME to handle! Suddenly the ghost speed boat comes to an abrubt halt and Pete goes flying forward toward the front of the ship where he crashes into several barrels marked: "C-Diff Formula", which luckily didn't break open. Peter gathers his bearings quickly, pulls himself to his feet, and looks overboard.

What... What just happened?!

Soldier walks up from behind Pete and looks overboard with him. The fog finally begins to clear up and the sight in front of them is a gorgeous desert beach backed with a dense forest all leading up to a single volcano just off the coast. Several tents are set up along the beachfront with a few buildings concealed in the trees.

Feast your eyes, Peter! Siberia!

Soldier props a leg up on the side of the ship, as if he had just discovered a new country.

I'm no expert, Soldier, but I digress. This doesn't look like Siberia.

Soldier shoves the head of Johnny Depp still impaled onto the handle of an oar and talks through the mouth.

Not only do you have the ship from Pirates of the Caribbean, Peter, but you also have a PIRATE from Pirates of the Caribbean!!

Soldier knocks Peter on top of the head with Johnny Depp's impaled head like a cane or sceptor then brings it face-to-face with himself.

EXACTLY! See, Peter? If anyone knows the sea better than anyone, it's this guy's head!

Soldier holds the oar high up into the air and Peter follows it with his eyes.

Sooo, what now?

Soldier continues to hold the oar high above his head.

Now? Our journey must continue, matey! Our search for 3x Better Sid Feder has led us to Siberia and now we must find him so we can get the XWF Trios TItles back!

He lowers the oar back down and points Johnny Depp's head back at Peter.

If you say so, Johnny Depp.

But first, we do what any pirate would do when they land in a new place...



In unison the two speak:

RAPE AND PILLAGE!!!

Soldier unsheathes a flaming sword and bites down on it, holding it in his mouth. He runs and leaps off the ship catching a dangling rope and, with SATANIC! momentum, he swings and flies 666 feet from the ship to the beach and lands on his feet! With a blood-curdling scream he rushes up the beach swinging his flaming sword radically.

HEY! WAIT FOR ME!

Meanwhile, Peter is still on the ghost ship trying to release the escape ghost rowboat on the side. He gets aggravated with it quickly and breaks one of the pulleys sending the little boat splashing off the water.

SHIT!!

It takes Peter a moment to scale down the side of the ghost ship onto the ghost rowboat. It takes him much longer to row his way to the beach. Explosions and screaming can be heard from the beach as people storm out of the buildings. Some are on fire and head to the water in attempts to put it out. Others can be seen being chased by the flailing flaming sword equipped by the captain, himself. Peter keeps looking back every time there's a loud bang and pouts a little bit with every stroke as he misses the action. When he finally reaches the beach, he does his best to run up the beach, but he is extremely winded from all of the stroking he was just doing.

Soldier emerges from one of the little housing units on the beach. It was very concealed from off of the coastline and unknown to them, but these two skallywags are actually standing on a massive resort where thousands of people are capable of staying at one time. Well, it's apparent to Soldier now as he approaches Peter covered in blood, spit, and feces.

Dammit, Soldier! You didn't save any raping or pillaging for ME, did you?

He's not here.

What?

HE'S NOT HERE, PETER! 3X BETTER SID FEDER ISN'T HERE! I'VE BEEN THROUGH ALL 666 ROOMS, 666 TIMES, AND NOTHING!!

Peter stands speechless on the beach staring down his depressed captain. Poor Peter. Confused and lost at sea. Theo wouldn't lie about Sid Feder's whereabouts to Soldier, would he? Why would he lie? Peter's thoughts ran rampant through his head.

I'm not sure what part of Siberia we're in, Soldier, but I am pretty sure its pretty big. Are you sure we just didn't look hard enough?

Sid Feder would stand out like a sore thumb! You should know that!

Of course I know that, but---

I know JUST what to do, Peter! Come! Follow ye!

At this point Peter just shrugs and follows the Captain into the forest.


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The trek through the forest was no easy task, even from the demon dick defiler. Using the flaming sword nearly spelled the demise for the duo as Soldier was at first using it to clear the way which only led to a short disaster and Peter with minor burns.

After what seemed like forever, the two finally reach the base of the volcano. Peter stops, breathless, and leans against a tree.

Soldier....

He says accompanied with a long, heavy gasp.

Where the FUCK are we going?

Soldier turns and points up the mountain.

Isn't it obvious, Peter? UP!

YOU'VE GOT TO BE SHITTING ME! I'm about ready to drop dead here!

Trust me, Peter... It will all be worth it in the end! We must continue on! Use your super-dick strength, for SATAN!'s sake!

Peter digs deep and finds just enough super-dick strength left and begins to climb. When they finally reach the peak, Soldier pulls from his satchel a few pages torn from the Grand Grimoire and takes a seat. Peter, a few minutes behind, pulls himself up and lies motionless and breathing heavy. He peers up to Soldier who seems a bit distraught as he flips through his pages then crumples them up to shove them back into his satchel.

SATAN! dammit. We have to go back down.

Enough life returns to Peter for him to lift his head up.

WHAT?! WHY?! WHAT THE FUCK ARE WE EVEN DOING UP HERE?!

Calm yourself, Peter! We've obviously been led astray. The next time I see Theo Pryce I'm going to tie him up and stab him 666 times in the chest with a heroin needle used by 666 homeless heroin addicts.

I feel your pain.

Peter finds himself again and sits up.

So what are we going to do?

The only thing left to do, Peter. Summon SATAN!

Peter looks around.

Is that why we need the volcano?

The volcano is not like a volcano you would think you would need for a SATAN! ritual. It looks like its been dormant for a long time, thus explaining the resort planted directly on top of it.

Cuz, uh... This guy looks a little inactive...

Leave it to me, Peter! All we need is a sacrifice!

Peter holds his hand up and shields the sun from his eyes to peer around from the peak.

I think you already raped and pillaged everyone, Soldier. Where are we going to find a sacrifice?

ARGH.. You could be right, but look here!

Soldier pulls a page back out from his satchel. He shows Peter but it is written in some ancient language that is completely indecipherable to the XTREME LEGEND. Peter looks down then back up to Soldier.

ANYTHING'll do when you have a volcano, Pete!

Sorry, I'm not caught up on my SATAN! worship. And may I digress? Is this even a volcano?

A flock of seagulls flies nearby just over their head. Soldier leaps up and grabs one out of the air. It flaps around frantically in Soldier's grasp, but cannot escape no matter how it tries! He motions for Peter to take it, but Peter shakes his head and takes a couple steps backwards nearly falling into the volcano!

No! I'm good! Fuck birds!

The seagull squawks and bounces around causing feathers to fly everywhere!

Take the damn sacrifice, Peter! Quit wasting time!

Soldier pretty much throws the bird at Peter forcing him to catch it and pulls the pages out of his satchel to begin the ritual. He begins reading in an ancient language from the first page, then the second, then the third..... The wind has picked up and a storm cloud forms in the distance heading towards them. Peter gets thrown around by the bird holding it with both of his hands around its neck. Soldier finishes the third page, looks up to Pete, and yells!

NOW PETER! RIPS IT'S HEAD OFF AND THROW IT INTO THE VOLCANO!

SUCK MY DICK!!! I'M NOT DOING THAT!!!

NOW PETER!

Peter digresses and grabs both ends of the bird and rips it in half covering himself in feathers and blood! He gags as he throws both pieces down the hole in the center of the mountain they stand and takes cover. A calm rumble of thunder crawls across the distant sky, but sounds no where near our two SATAN! worshipers are summoning SATAN! The sky around them remains blue and the void which they threw their sacrifice remains dark.

What the fuck?

Soldier stands still for a moment, thinking to himself. He pulls the pages from his satchel once again and goes over them.

Nothing happened.

Hmmmmmm..... Everything seems right...... Blah blah blah... Volcano.... Huh? Hm. Hm? No shit.

What? WHAT?!

Soldier chuckles to himself.

You're never going to believe this.

WHAT?! TELL ME, DAMMIT!

Calm down, Peter! Maybe you should take a seat!

Peter quickly lowers himself to the ground, overly anticipating what it is Soldier has found out. It is not a few short seconds though that Peter starts to become very ill.

AAAAWWWWWWWWGGHGHHHHHH!!!!! WHAT THE FUCK?!

Pete moans and groans as he falls to his side in excruciating pain. Soldier watches in anticipation as his first mate clenches his stomach and shrieks out in agony!

FEAR NOT, PETER! IT IS ALL IN SATAN!'S WILL!!

In that instant Peter's asshole is wrecked when a head, torso, and two arms all covered in some thick black, tar-looking mass tear out of it. He screams like you would expect someone to scream if that would happen to them and instantly passes out. Peter's bowels relax and the rest of the black tarred body slips out and lies quivering on the ground. Soldier just stares into what just happened, almost impressed, when the world around him slowly fades and just starts to go white.

A bright light flashes and when he opens his eyes he is standing in a place with no floors or ceilings. No windows, no doors. Just white. He looks around confused before taking a step what seemed like off a cliff or jumping out of an airplane. Soldier screams a blood curdling scream as he falls through the white nothingness for about six seconds before he stops and just embraces it. Scenes of him winning the UNIVERSAL Championship flash around him. More scenes previous and more, EVEN MORE obscene scenes of Unknown Soldier completely running the place whenever he SATAN! well pleases...

Until his falling white world went black and smack of thunder made him nearly, NEARLY throw a narly downstairs.

An icy stare meets his own in the sky before his body SMACKS off the ground and he's left breathless on the ground.

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WAKE THE FUCK UP!!

Peter shakes the lifeless, breathless body of the UNIVERSAL Champion atop the volcano. Soldier's eyes open just as Peter is going in for some mouth-to-mouth, but Pete's glorious efforts are stopped by the strength of Unknown Soldier's tongue alone sticking out a foot and a half and pressing on Pete's forehead. Pete's eyes meet Soldier's and he glares back at him with mean eyes.

Do you know what the fuck you just did?

Soldier's tongue slips back into his mouth all snake-like.

LOOK!

Soldier follows Peter's finger behind him and stretches his neck to see. Some mist has set in at the old peak and the silhouette in the distance is a bit hard to see.

Ahoy, my friends!

What the fuck is HE doing here?!

Soldier's blurry vision clears and sees an emerging Doctor Louis D'Ville from the fog. The demon dick defiler's grin reemerges as well as he Nosferatu-plank stands up and embraces the coming of is former long reigning Tag Team Championship partner.

What do you mean, Peter?! Don't you see?? We asked SATAN! for a tag team partner to regain the Trios Championship and he delivered!

But what about Sid Feder?

FUCK SID FEDER!

Doc gives a half-grin and takes a few steps forward as Peter scowls a bit with his defenses half-high. Soldier, on the other hand, drunkenly steps towards Doc with the utmost erection.

Well shiver me fuckin' timbers! If it ain't...------

Cigarette.

Doc interrupts Soldier who stops and checks around his pockets. He looks back to Peter.

Pete! You got a smoke for the doctor?

Peter throws his arms up in almost disbelief and mutters something that neither Soldier nor Doc listen to. Soldier's eyes do light up then, and he produces a rolled up something from whatever pocket.

I got this?

Doc snatches it from Soldier's hand, lights it, and takes a nice long drag.....

Better?

Doc's one good eye takes a twirl and he snarls at the scent of the rolled-up whatever. He holds it up to Soldier...

What? Is? This?

Angeldust, I believe.

Doc croaks and falls to his back gargling and foaming at the mouth.

My bad.

After a few convulsions Doc stands right back up.

Kidding. But there is something in there though...

Doc gives himself a couple fist pounds on the chest and clears his throat.

Coming down with something are you, doctor?

Peter interjects.

So what brings you here, Doc?

Doc takes another hit from the angeldust and takes a look around the tropical, desolate scenery.

Well, my dear friend, it is quite simple you see.

Doc snaps his fingers and the three flash into a complete rendition of Paul Simon's, "You Can Call me Al" where Peter plays Paul Simon's part and Doc plays Chevy Chase's while Soldier just watches.



The musical number that Peter somehow found himself involved in was over, but didn't really explain anything, or did it?

Do you see?

You want me to be your bodyguard?

Not quite.]]>




                                                                                                                              





































































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"This is the way the world ends, not with a bang, but a whimper."
- T. S. Elliot


VOYAGE






The year is 2019.

Everyone's feelings are hurt.

And the the world is at mercy to the machines.

Life, as we know it, has changed.

But war? War is a constant.

Never in the existence of anything has peace ever been an option. Natural selection, in it's simplest form, just would not allow that to happen. Resources run out or dry up. Things get greedy. When there is no other choices but to step forward or die, you do just that. An ecosystem cannot function without destruction or reconstruction. Humans seem to have a knack for both. At all corners of the globe, you can watch the constant paranoia of someone finding a stray dagger in their back. They were doing just fine destroying themselves, its not like they needed any help.

The turn of the millennium was supposed to be something spectacular. Instead, it filled people with fear and caused worldwide panic for a couple of years. If you didn't think every single computer was going to crash and erase everyone's hard-earned savings then you were probably looking forward to the rapture. A group of programmers in the 1980s didn't cross of few T's and boom. Judgement Day. That was the first time that it was clear who was really in charge.

Was 11:59PM on December 31, 1999 the final countdown?

Not at all.

The world continued to spin. Jesus took a raincheck. A light never flickered. A couple of nerds added 2 digits to a program and saved the world.

Just twenty, short years after the end of the world, every human now comes equipped with an electronic extension to themselves. Anyone with the dollars can have in their possession their very own all-knowing, all-seeing, all-telling device that fits right in their pocket. You are now as smart as your abilities to use these tools. Provide it with a destination and it will guide you where to go. Tell it your deepest desires and it will find them for you. Share yourself with the entire world through a talking camera phone connected with billions of others. After thousands of years of humans struggling to co-exist with each other, you still don't trust your own neighbor. Yet, just twenty years after Judgement Day, you do not hesitate to let it keep track or run your life for you, with no conscience to tell itself 'No' and no feeling of it's own betrayal to it's creators. The biggest concerns now come in the form of Twitter feeds and egos. Its like the threat to humanity never happened.

The year is 2019.

And everyone's a bunch of butt-hurt cyborgs.
Hold-up. Time for a selfie.


Part One

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The world sits still. A thick blanket of fog covers everythiing in sight as if the ghost ship was drifting across clouds in the night sky. Universal Soldier sits, perched, at the bow of the ship and peers into the fog with a 666 millimeter-long spyglass, but to no avail. Discouraged, the UNVERSAL Champion steps back and crosses the ship to where his first mate, Peter Gilmour, steers the ship blindly into the mist.

Its no use, Peter! We'll never find Siberia in this bloody muck! Steady as she goes, dawn is imminent and THEN we'll surely find our way easier, ARGH!

We've been sailing like this for hours, Soldier. Are you sure we're going in the right way? I've banged plenty of sluts from Siberia before and they've always said its pretty cold there. I don't feel very cold right now.

NONSENSE PETER! Your mail-ordered hussies are no match for our tools! Check your instruments! Fog or no fog, the ship from Pirates of the Caribbean can't steer us wayward!

Peter takes his hands from the starwheel and inspects his instrument. Soldier pulls large gold compass from his pocket and opens it. It spins around 666 times as he watches. He nods and places it back in his pocket.

For those who may not be tuned in. Unknown Soldier, the new XWF UNIVERSAL Champion, and his first mate, Peter Gilmour, are on the search for the one and only Sid Feder in order to regain the XWF Trios Championship that the team once had. After several harrassing phone calls to XWF Executive Theo Pryce, the location of said Feder was revealed and the voyage began.

Everything checks out to me---!! NOT YOUR HOME-WRECKER, PETER! The SHIP'S instruments!

Peter conceals his weapon and quickly places his hands back on the starwheel while looking around it. He sees no such instruments.

Uhrm? Are you sure the ship from Pirates of the Caribbean came with instruments?

Ignoring Peter's statement, something catches Soldier's eye through the dense fog. Peter squints past his captain in an attempt to see what has the demon dick defiler so captivated. Suddenly, Soldier spins around with a horrid meth-toothed grin!

Do ye see what I see, Peter?!

Peter winces as tries harder and harder to peer through the fog which is finally starting to lift as the sun peers over the horizon. Its not nearly enough to see clearly, but in the distance, a sillhoutte of a volanco is barely visible.

Looks like a giant dick.

The horrid smile on Soldier's face turns sour.

What the fuck, Pete?

What? It does.

Soldier storms over and hangs over Peter's shoulders and points ahead!

LAAAAAAAND HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!

Soldier then shoulders Peter out of the way and takes control of the ship! He kicks his foot on the deck 666 times and reveals a compartment under the ship's deck. A large lever rises up and locks into the ships deck floor beside the starwheel.

You may want to grab ahold of that thing again, Peter....

Say what?

Before Pete could react Soldier uses all of his weight and jumps onto the large lever pushing it foward. The front of the ghost ship flies up into the air as she begins to pick up crazy momentum! The speed is so great that Pete's feet leave the deck floor, but before he flies off the ship he manages to grab the center mast of the ship and holds on for dear life! Soldier holds onto the starwheel like nothing with a long meth-stained tongue trailing two-feet behind him flapping in the wind.

WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!?!

Peter's confusion isn't without question! This ghost ship turned into a damn speed boat! Peter continues to hold on, but his grip slowly begins to slip as the mast is too big for even the KING OF XTREME to handle! Suddenly the ghost speed boat comes to an abrubt halt and Pete goes flying forward toward the front of the ship where he crashes into several barrels marked: "C-Diff Formula", which luckily didn't break open. Peter gathers his bearings quickly, pulls himself to his feet, and looks overboard.

What... What just happened?!

Soldier walks up from behind Pete and looks overboard with him. The fog finally begins to clear up and the sight in front of them is a gorgeous desert beach backed with a dense forest all leading up to a single volcano just off the coast. Several tents are set up along the beachfront with a few buildings concealed in the trees.

Feast your eyes, Peter! Siberia!

Soldier props a leg up on the side of the ship, as if he had just discovered a new country.

I'm no expert, Soldier, but I digress. This doesn't look like Siberia.

Soldier shoves the head of Johnny Depp still impaled onto the handle of an oar and talks through the mouth.

Not only do you have the ship from Pirates of the Caribbean, Peter, but you also have a PIRATE from Pirates of the Caribbean!!

Soldier knocks Peter on top of the head with Johnny Depp's impaled head like a cane or sceptor then brings it face-to-face with himself.

EXACTLY! See, Peter? If anyone knows the sea better than anyone, it's this guy's head!

Soldier holds the oar high up into the air and Peter follows it with his eyes.

Sooo, what now?

Soldier continues to hold the oar high above his head.

Now? Our journey must continue, matey! Our search for 3x Better Sid Feder has led us to Siberia and now we must find him so we can get the XWF Trios TItles back!

He lowers the oar back down and points Johnny Depp's head back at Peter.

If you say so, Johnny Depp.

But first, we do what any pirate would do when they land in a new place...



In unison the two speak:

RAPE AND PILLAGE!!!

Soldier unsheathes a flaming sword and bites down on it, holding it in his mouth. He runs and leaps off the ship catching a dangling rope and, with SATANIC! momentum, he swings and flies 666 feet from the ship to the beach and lands on his feet! With a blood-curdling scream he rushes up the beach swinging his flaming sword radically.

HEY! WAIT FOR ME!

Meanwhile, Peter is still on the ghost ship trying to release the escape ghost rowboat on the side. He gets aggravated with it quickly and breaks one of the pulleys sending the little boat splashing off the water.

SHIT!!

It takes Peter a moment to scale down the side of the ghost ship onto the ghost rowboat. It takes him much longer to row his way to the beach. Explosions and screaming can be heard from the beach as people storm out of the buildings. Some are on fire and head to the water in attempts to put it out. Others can be seen being chased by the flailing flaming sword equipped by the captain, himself. Peter keeps looking back every time there's a loud bang and pouts a little bit with every stroke as he misses the action. When he finally reaches the beach, he does his best to run up the beach, but he is extremely winded from all of the stroking he was just doing.

Soldier emerges from one of the little housing units on the beach. It was very concealed from off of the coastline and unknown to them, but these two skallywags are actually standing on a massive resort where thousands of people are capable of staying at one time. Well, it's apparent to Soldier now as he approaches Peter covered in blood, spit, and feces.

Dammit, Soldier! You didn't save any raping or pillaging for ME, did you?

He's not here.

What?

HE'S NOT HERE, PETER! 3X BETTER SID FEDER ISN'T HERE! I'VE BEEN THROUGH ALL 666 ROOMS, 666 TIMES, AND NOTHING!!

Peter stands speechless on the beach staring down his depressed captain. Poor Peter. Confused and lost at sea. Theo wouldn't lie about Sid Feder's whereabouts to Soldier, would he? Why would he lie? Peter's thoughts ran rampant through his head.

I'm not sure what part of Siberia we're in, Soldier, but I am pretty sure its pretty big. Are you sure we just didn't look hard enough?

Sid Feder would stand out like a sore thumb! You should know that!

Of course I know that, but---

I know JUST what to do, Peter! Come! Follow ye!

At this point Peter just shrugs and follows the Captain into the forest.


[Image: bAVJWso.jpg?1]



The trek through the forest was no easy task, even from the demon dick defiler. Using the flaming sword nearly spelled the demise for the duo as Soldier was at first using it to clear the way which only led to a short disaster and Peter with minor burns.

After what seemed like forever, the two finally reach the base of the volcano. Peter stops, breathless, and leans against a tree.

Soldier....

He says accompanied with a long, heavy gasp.

Where the FUCK are we going?

Soldier turns and points up the mountain.

Isn't it obvious, Peter? UP!

YOU'VE GOT TO BE SHITTING ME! I'm about ready to drop dead here!

Trust me, Peter... It will all be worth it in the end! We must continue on! Use your super-dick strength, for SATAN!'s sake!

Peter digs deep and finds just enough super-dick strength left and begins to climb. When they finally reach the peak, Soldier pulls from his satchel a few pages torn from the Grand Grimoire and takes a seat. Peter, a few minutes behind, pulls himself up and lies motionless and breathing heavy. He peers up to Soldier who seems a bit distraught as he flips through his pages then crumples them up to shove them back into his satchel.

SATAN! dammit. We have to go back down.

Enough life returns to Peter for him to lift his head up.

WHAT?! WHY?! WHAT THE FUCK ARE WE EVEN DOING UP HERE?!

Calm yourself, Peter! We've obviously been led astray. The next time I see Theo Pryce I'm going to tie him up and stab him 666 times in the chest with a heroin needle used by 666 homeless heroin addicts.

I feel your pain.

Peter finds himself again and sits up.

So what are we going to do?

The only thing left to do, Peter. Summon SATAN!

Peter looks around.

Is that why we need the volcano?

The volcano is not like a volcano you would think you would need for a SATAN! ritual. It looks like its been dormant for a long time, thus explaining the resort planted directly on top of it.

Cuz, uh... This guy looks a little inactive...

Leave it to me, Peter! All we need is a sacrifice!

Peter holds his hand up and shields the sun from his eyes to peer around from the peak.

I think you already raped and pillaged everyone, Soldier. Where are we going to find a sacrifice?

ARGH.. You could be right, but look here!

Soldier pulls a page back out from his satchel. He shows Peter but it is written in some ancient language that is completely indecipherable to the XTREME LEGEND. Peter looks down then back up to Soldier.

ANYTHING'll do when you have a volcano, Pete!

Sorry, I'm not caught up on my SATAN! worship. And may I digress? Is this even a volcano?

A flock of seagulls flies nearby just over their head. Soldier leaps up and grabs one out of the air. It flaps around frantically in Soldier's grasp, but cannot escape no matter how it tries! He motions for Peter to take it, but Peter shakes his head and takes a couple steps backwards nearly falling into the volcano!

No! I'm good! Fuck birds!

The seagull squawks and bounces around causing feathers to fly everywhere!

Take the damn sacrifice, Peter! Quit wasting time!

Soldier pretty much throws the bird at Peter forcing him to catch it and pulls the pages out of his satchel to begin the ritual. He begins reading in an ancient language from the first page, then the second, then the third..... The wind has picked up and a storm cloud forms in the distance heading towards them. Peter gets thrown around by the bird holding it with both of his hands around its neck. Soldier finishes the third page, looks up to Pete, and yells!

NOW PETER! RIPS IT'S HEAD OFF AND THROW IT INTO THE VOLCANO!

SUCK MY DICK!!! I'M NOT DOING THAT!!!

NOW PETER!

Peter digresses and grabs both ends of the bird and rips it in half covering himself in feathers and blood! He gags as he throws both pieces down the hole in the center of the mountain they stand and takes cover. A calm rumble of thunder crawls across the distant sky, but sounds no where near our two SATAN! worshipers are summoning SATAN! The sky around them remains blue and the void which they threw their sacrifice remains dark.

What the fuck?

Soldier stands still for a moment, thinking to himself. He pulls the pages from his satchel once again and goes over them.

Nothing happened.

Hmmmmmm..... Everything seems right...... Blah blah blah... Volcano.... Huh? Hm. Hm? No shit.

What? WHAT?!

Soldier chuckles to himself.

You're never going to believe this.

WHAT?! TELL ME, DAMMIT!

Calm down, Peter! Maybe you should take a seat!

Peter quickly lowers himself to the ground, overly anticipating what it is Soldier has found out. It is not a few short seconds though that Peter starts to become very ill.

AAAAWWWWWWWWGGHGHHHHHH!!!!! WHAT THE FUCK?!

Pete moans and groans as he falls to his side in excruciating pain. Soldier watches in anticipation as his first mate clenches his stomach and shrieks out in agony!

FEAR NOT, PETER! IT IS ALL IN SATAN!'S WILL!!

In that instant Peter's asshole is wrecked when a head, torso, and two arms all covered in some thick black, tar-looking mass tear out of it. He screams like you would expect someone to scream if that would happen to them and instantly passes out. Peter's bowels relax and the rest of the black tarred body slips out and lies quivering on the ground. Soldier just stares into what just happened, almost impressed, when the world around him slowly fades and just starts to go white.

A bright light flashes and when he opens his eyes he is standing in a place with no floors or ceilings. No windows, no doors. Just white. He looks around confused before taking a step what seemed like off a cliff or jumping out of an airplane. Soldier screams a blood curdling scream as he falls through the white nothingness for about six seconds before he stops and just embraces it. Scenes of him winning the UNIVERSAL Championship flash around him. More scenes previous and more, EVEN MORE obscene scenes of Unknown Soldier completely running the place whenever he SATAN! well pleases...

Until his falling white world went black and smack of thunder made him nearly, NEARLY throw a narly downstairs.

An icy stare meets his own in the sky before his body SMACKS off the ground and he's left breathless on the ground.

[Image: 7cmmFjC.png]


WAKE THE FUCK UP!!

Peter shakes the lifeless, breathless body of the UNIVERSAL Champion atop the volcano. Soldier's eyes open just as Peter is going in for some mouth-to-mouth, but Pete's glorious efforts are stopped by the strength of Unknown Soldier's tongue alone sticking out a foot and a half and pressing on Pete's forehead. Pete's eyes meet Soldier's and he glares back at him with mean eyes.

Do you know what the fuck you just did?

Soldier's tongue slips back into his mouth all snake-like.

LOOK!

Soldier follows Peter's finger behind him and stretches his neck to see. Some mist has set in at the old peak and the silhouette in the distance is a bit hard to see.

Ahoy, my friends!

What the fuck is HE doing here?!

Soldier's blurry vision clears and sees an emerging Doctor Louis D'Ville from the fog. The demon dick defiler's grin reemerges as well as he Nosferatu-plank stands up and embraces the coming of is former long reigning Tag Team Championship partner.

What do you mean, Peter?! Don't you see?? We asked SATAN! for a tag team partner to regain the Trios Championship and he delivered!

But what about Sid Feder?

FUCK SID FEDER!

Doc gives a half-grin and takes a few steps forward as Peter scowls a bit with his defenses half-high. Soldier, on the other hand, drunkenly steps towards Doc with the utmost erection.

Well shiver me fuckin' timbers! If it ain't...------

Cigarette.

Doc interrupts Soldier who stops and checks around his pockets. He looks back to Peter.

Pete! You got a smoke for the doctor?

Peter throws his arms up in almost disbelief and mutters something that neither Soldier nor Doc listen to. Soldier's eyes do light up then, and he produces a rolled up something from whatever pocket.

I got this?

Doc snatches it from Soldier's hand, lights it, and takes a nice long drag.....

Better?

Doc's one good eye takes a twirl and he snarls at the scent of the rolled-up whatever. He holds it up to Soldier...

What? Is? This?

Angeldust, I believe.

Doc croaks and falls to his back gargling and foaming at the mouth.

My bad.

After a few convulsions Doc stands right back up.

Kidding. But there is something in there though...

Doc gives himself a couple fist pounds on the chest and clears his throat.

Coming down with something are you, doctor?

Peter interjects.

So what brings you here, Doc?

Doc takes another hit from the angeldust and takes a look around the tropical, desolate scenery.

Well, my dear friend, it is quite simple you see.

Doc snaps his fingers and the three flash into a complete rendition of Paul Simon's, "You Can Call me Al" where Peter plays Paul Simon's part and Doc plays Chevy Chase's while Soldier just watches.



The musical number that Peter somehow found himself involved in was over, but didn't really explain anything, or did it?

Do you see?

You want me to be your bodyguard?

Not quite.]]> <![CDATA[The Hero Arrives RP 1]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=34839 Thu, 19 Sep 2019 22:47:44 -0700 Barney Green]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=34839

Somebody call for a hero? You are looking at one. Not the smartest man alive but I got something that most people don't have. That's pure guts and instinct. Might as well throw my hat into this battle like my names Katniss Everdeen.

The last time I competed in a match like this back in 2012, I walked out World Champion. The XWF needs a hero right now. I may be a mess physically but I will give everything I got in my body to ensure total victory.

I just had to enter this and remember you caused this, Tyler Cross. I ain't even worried about victory because I got this in the bag. You wanted to attack me and cause me to lose my shot at a title over something that happened back in 2017.

Remember, I was the only guy who had the balls left in the roster to stand up to The Kings. I got one question, "Who really held the team back? You or me?" I think it was you because I have the skills and actually stuck around after that loss. You faded into obscurity. I won't be taking crap from some loud-mouthed whiny little bitch. That's all you are. Nothing more. Nothing less. Did I strike a nerve?

I got plenty of friends if you wanna make this even more personal. We can go all night. I was born on the 19th of February 1984. I will face you head-on and destroy you like you were a lemon meringue pie. Don't bring a knife to a gunfight. What can I say about you? You couldn't even hold my jock back then. What makes you think you got a shot at winning this?

Now, let's move onto Finn Kuhn. That german femboy couldn't even handle a catman like me. Last time we fought, I beat your ass like Hitler beat le jews. We already know how this is gonna turn out. Kuhn going over the top rope first followed by Tyler Cross.

The Wretched Nobody. Interesting name. Just a sad sack of nothingness. Once that bell rings, I will take you out very quickly that you will think we were on a date. Now let's move onto Jim Jimson. Talk about a bland name that just rolls off the tongue like nothing. At least my name stands out. When you hear my name, You know business is about to pick up.

Isabella Ravenwolf. You think you can intimidate me with your witch ways. You are looking at a man who casts his own spells as well except for the good of humanity. I am the type you don't want to deal with because I got no problem going over the line.

I am getting the rust off me. Try fighting for as long and as hard as I have. Wins didn't exactly come easy for me. I had to keep fighting and surviving. I am a household name of the XWF for better or worse. The one guy they couldn't get rid of. On the wrong side of 35 but been here almost 11 years off and on. You try running the gauntlet as I have.

I am not losing this battle. This is is my moment. My legacy on display for everyone to see. Pure Boston born and bred. The music blaring through my ears as I get ready to hit the gym and train for this fight.

Its time the world saw Barney Green win a battle and challenge for a belt in 2019. Been 7 long years since I have held gold. Once I win this, I am claiming the TV Title. Thaddeus Duke is somebody that I want to destroy next and it will be absolutely glorious.

]]>

Somebody call for a hero? You are looking at one. Not the smartest man alive but I got something that most people don't have. That's pure guts and instinct. Might as well throw my hat into this battle like my names Katniss Everdeen.

The last time I competed in a match like this back in 2012, I walked out World Champion. The XWF needs a hero right now. I may be a mess physically but I will give everything I got in my body to ensure total victory.

I just had to enter this and remember you caused this, Tyler Cross. I ain't even worried about victory because I got this in the bag. You wanted to attack me and cause me to lose my shot at a title over something that happened back in 2017.

Remember, I was the only guy who had the balls left in the roster to stand up to The Kings. I got one question, "Who really held the team back? You or me?" I think it was you because I have the skills and actually stuck around after that loss. You faded into obscurity. I won't be taking crap from some loud-mouthed whiny little bitch. That's all you are. Nothing more. Nothing less. Did I strike a nerve?

I got plenty of friends if you wanna make this even more personal. We can go all night. I was born on the 19th of February 1984. I will face you head-on and destroy you like you were a lemon meringue pie. Don't bring a knife to a gunfight. What can I say about you? You couldn't even hold my jock back then. What makes you think you got a shot at winning this?

Now, let's move onto Finn Kuhn. That german femboy couldn't even handle a catman like me. Last time we fought, I beat your ass like Hitler beat le jews. We already know how this is gonna turn out. Kuhn going over the top rope first followed by Tyler Cross.

The Wretched Nobody. Interesting name. Just a sad sack of nothingness. Once that bell rings, I will take you out very quickly that you will think we were on a date. Now let's move onto Jim Jimson. Talk about a bland name that just rolls off the tongue like nothing. At least my name stands out. When you hear my name, You know business is about to pick up.

Isabella Ravenwolf. You think you can intimidate me with your witch ways. You are looking at a man who casts his own spells as well except for the good of humanity. I am the type you don't want to deal with because I got no problem going over the line.

I am getting the rust off me. Try fighting for as long and as hard as I have. Wins didn't exactly come easy for me. I had to keep fighting and surviving. I am a household name of the XWF for better or worse. The one guy they couldn't get rid of. On the wrong side of 35 but been here almost 11 years off and on. You try running the gauntlet as I have.

I am not losing this battle. This is is my moment. My legacy on display for everyone to see. Pure Boston born and bred. The music blaring through my ears as I get ready to hit the gym and train for this fight.

Its time the world saw Barney Green win a battle and challenge for a belt in 2019. Been 7 long years since I have held gold. Once I win this, I am claiming the TV Title. Thaddeus Duke is somebody that I want to destroy next and it will be absolutely glorious.

]]> <![CDATA[Seek and Find Me an Apple or Two]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=34845 Thu, 19 Sep 2019 19:12:54 -0700 Thunder Knuckles™]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=34845 Oh look, that stupid camera is here again. Oh well, fuck it. At least I’ll get some of those SWEET xbux for this. he thinks to himself as he takes another bite.

Something to keep in mind heading into the MAN OVERBOARD BATTLE ROYALE.

Spitting small apple chunks as he speaks.

I was Northwestern Ohio's hide and go seek champion for five years straight and only stopped because I was so great. Do you know how hard it is to get a guy my size into a mini-fridge?But says softly I’ll never do that one again.

He stops to take another bite of his delicious red apple.

The only other person I know of who can hide better than me is Jimmy Hoffa whos been missing since Wednesday, July-thirtieth-nineteen-seventy-five!

He slaps his belly and leans back into a deeply obnoxious laughter, that is made even more so by the chunks of apple spraying from his lips.

A common misconception of battle royales is you gotta eliminate a bunch of people. This apple is pretty good by the way. You should get one cameraman.

Takes another bite of apple!

I don't have to eliminate everyone in the match. I just have to hide and seek out one specific elimination.

STILL!!! spraying small bits of apple with each and every word he speaks.

He takes another bite.

All I gotta do is stay away from the edge of the damn yacht.

Thunder Knuckles tosses his apple core to his left, while never looking away from the camera. It hits a backstage gripe in the head. He starts walking around looking for places to hide and the cameraman follows.

Let's take a shortlist of competitors and where they come from for the Man Overboard Battle Royale, shall we?

Jim Jimson XWF heavymetalweight champion from Australia. The former prison for the British. The best thing Australia produced recently was Jeff Horn who beat Manny Pacquiao in the best home cooking match of that year. XWF woudda been better off throwing in a Goddamn kangaroo, It at least it at least them fuckers know how to box! All the Australian’s are good for is making shitty beer, and shitty hide and go seek skills! I can’t blame them though, I wouldn’t want to hide anywhere with all them BIG ASS spiders all over the place! But that works to my advantage, now doesn’t it?

Thunder Knuckles reaches into his pocket and produces another apple, this time it’s green.

The Wretched Nobody from Tokyo, Japan? Probably too busy watching crap anime and smelling panties from a vending machine to be too much of a threat. He comes from the home of sumo wrestling and minor league baseball teams that pose as professionals. “Hajime no Ippo” was dope though. Props.

He takes a bite of the apple and spits it out in disgust!

”What the fuck?”

Thunder Kuckles looks at the apple and realizes that it is green.

Fuckin’ mother fucker! He looks around. JIMMY! He spots his target and hurls the apple in a fit of rage! ”ASSHOLE! The apple explodes on Jimmy’s forehead! You damn well know better than to give me GREEN apples!

Sorry boss, I forgot. He says with a whimper.

Thunder Knuckles spits the rest of the nasty green apple out.

Isabelle Ravenwolfe from what I’ve gathered, from talking to my sources here in XWF, is this twat has been here for a long time and she's a bitch...or a witch. Doesn't really matter though, look her up on the XWF website. It's almost like shes so bad they don't even list her on the official roster. So let's just say parts unknown for this high caliber “athlete”.

After speaking her name,Thunder Knuckles thinks of a potential place to hide. He walks over and looks inside of one of the trash cans, wondering if he could fit inside? Hey, I think I just found her career inside of this thing! Tossing the lid behind him, he looks back to the camera.

Tyler Cross from Toronto, Canada? How aboot them Leafs bud? Fuck off! The Leafs haven't done shit since 1967. Which is longer than Jimmy Hoffa has been hiding I might add. If it wasn't for Kawhi Leonard. The Raptors wouldn't have been shit either! At least he was smart enough to see that and got the hell outta there!

Thunder Knuckles scratches his balls. Why? Because they itch and he doesn’t give a shit.

Finn Kuhn from parts unknown. Former stand out in January 2018...FUUUUUCK! It’s 2019 and as far as I can tell, you have’t said or done shit this whole year! BUT OHHH! A former XWF Heavymetalweight champion. That’s the only thing this guy has going for him these days, the claim of being able to do something once, even if not anymore. Good job ya shit heel !

Thunder knuckles rolls his eyes thinking about the parts unknown group he's dealing with and then looks behind one of the staircases where he sees a door marked “do not enter”. He peaks in and sees a small storage closet with just enough room for him to slip in and hide.

Then you have me from the GREAT state of Ohio! You all do realize that Ohio has produced some of the best athletes in the world right? You know what, I'll just name a few for now because I don't have all day.

Ever heard of LeBron James?

You know, the guy who everyone KNOWS is better than Michael Jordan, but can’t admit because of their bullshit nostalgia goggles!

Yeah well

He's from OHIO!

How about that Jack Lambert? The man’s a 4 time Super Bowl champion, and he’s from...you guessed it!

OHIO!

OH and last but not least!

Thunder knuckles pauses for dramatic effect!!!

THUnDAAAAAR KNUCKLES! A 5 time back to back Northwestern Ohio's hide and go seek champion (2005-2010) amongst other things but I can't give away all my surprises now can I!

Good luck everyone! Cause if where your from, says anything about who you'll be. I'll be walking off that yacht, dry as fuck, with the chance at the Hart or TV title shot of MY choosing. OH! Don't forget about that sweet bonus for winning the match too.

Management! Where's my check!?

Thunder Knuckles walks away from the cameraman still searching for the perfect spot to hide]]> Oh look, that stupid camera is here again. Oh well, fuck it. At least I’ll get some of those SWEET xbux for this. he thinks to himself as he takes another bite.

Something to keep in mind heading into the MAN OVERBOARD BATTLE ROYALE.

Spitting small apple chunks as he speaks.

I was Northwestern Ohio's hide and go seek champion for five years straight and only stopped because I was so great. Do you know how hard it is to get a guy my size into a mini-fridge?But says softly I’ll never do that one again.

He stops to take another bite of his delicious red apple.

The only other person I know of who can hide better than me is Jimmy Hoffa whos been missing since Wednesday, July-thirtieth-nineteen-seventy-five!

He slaps his belly and leans back into a deeply obnoxious laughter, that is made even more so by the chunks of apple spraying from his lips.

A common misconception of battle royales is you gotta eliminate a bunch of people. This apple is pretty good by the way. You should get one cameraman.

Takes another bite of apple!

I don't have to eliminate everyone in the match. I just have to hide and seek out one specific elimination.

STILL!!! spraying small bits of apple with each and every word he speaks.

He takes another bite.

All I gotta do is stay away from the edge of the damn yacht.

Thunder Knuckles tosses his apple core to his left, while never looking away from the camera. It hits a backstage gripe in the head. He starts walking around looking for places to hide and the cameraman follows.

Let's take a shortlist of competitors and where they come from for the Man Overboard Battle Royale, shall we?

Jim Jimson XWF heavymetalweight champion from Australia. The former prison for the British. The best thing Australia produced recently was Jeff Horn who beat Manny Pacquiao in the best home cooking match of that year. XWF woudda been better off throwing in a Goddamn kangaroo, It at least it at least them fuckers know how to box! All the Australian’s are good for is making shitty beer, and shitty hide and go seek skills! I can’t blame them though, I wouldn’t want to hide anywhere with all them BIG ASS spiders all over the place! But that works to my advantage, now doesn’t it?

Thunder Knuckles reaches into his pocket and produces another apple, this time it’s green.

The Wretched Nobody from Tokyo, Japan? Probably too busy watching crap anime and smelling panties from a vending machine to be too much of a threat. He comes from the home of sumo wrestling and minor league baseball teams that pose as professionals. “Hajime no Ippo” was dope though. Props.

He takes a bite of the apple and spits it out in disgust!

”What the fuck?”

Thunder Kuckles looks at the apple and realizes that it is green.

Fuckin’ mother fucker! He looks around. JIMMY! He spots his target and hurls the apple in a fit of rage! ”ASSHOLE! The apple explodes on Jimmy’s forehead! You damn well know better than to give me GREEN apples!

Sorry boss, I forgot. He says with a whimper.

Thunder Knuckles spits the rest of the nasty green apple out.

Isabelle Ravenwolfe from what I’ve gathered, from talking to my sources here in XWF, is this twat has been here for a long time and she's a bitch...or a witch. Doesn't really matter though, look her up on the XWF website. It's almost like shes so bad they don't even list her on the official roster. So let's just say parts unknown for this high caliber “athlete”.

After speaking her name,Thunder Knuckles thinks of a potential place to hide. He walks over and looks inside of one of the trash cans, wondering if he could fit inside? Hey, I think I just found her career inside of this thing! Tossing the lid behind him, he looks back to the camera.

Tyler Cross from Toronto, Canada? How aboot them Leafs bud? Fuck off! The Leafs haven't done shit since 1967. Which is longer than Jimmy Hoffa has been hiding I might add. If it wasn't for Kawhi Leonard. The Raptors wouldn't have been shit either! At least he was smart enough to see that and got the hell outta there!

Thunder Knuckles scratches his balls. Why? Because they itch and he doesn’t give a shit.

Finn Kuhn from parts unknown. Former stand out in January 2018...FUUUUUCK! It’s 2019 and as far as I can tell, you have’t said or done shit this whole year! BUT OHHH! A former XWF Heavymetalweight champion. That’s the only thing this guy has going for him these days, the claim of being able to do something once, even if not anymore. Good job ya shit heel !

Thunder knuckles rolls his eyes thinking about the parts unknown group he's dealing with and then looks behind one of the staircases where he sees a door marked “do not enter”. He peaks in and sees a small storage closet with just enough room for him to slip in and hide.

Then you have me from the GREAT state of Ohio! You all do realize that Ohio has produced some of the best athletes in the world right? You know what, I'll just name a few for now because I don't have all day.

Ever heard of LeBron James?

You know, the guy who everyone KNOWS is better than Michael Jordan, but can’t admit because of their bullshit nostalgia goggles!

Yeah well

He's from OHIO!

How about that Jack Lambert? The man’s a 4 time Super Bowl champion, and he’s from...you guessed it!

OHIO!

OH and last but not least!

Thunder knuckles pauses for dramatic effect!!!

THUnDAAAAAR KNUCKLES! A 5 time back to back Northwestern Ohio's hide and go seek champion (2005-2010) amongst other things but I can't give away all my surprises now can I!

Good luck everyone! Cause if where your from, says anything about who you'll be. I'll be walking off that yacht, dry as fuck, with the chance at the Hart or TV title shot of MY choosing. OH! Don't forget about that sweet bonus for winning the match too.

Management! Where's my check!?

Thunder Knuckles walks away from the cameraman still searching for the perfect spot to hide]]> <![CDATA[Noah Jackson Saves The Kids: Part One]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=34843 Thu, 19 Sep 2019 18:25:12 -0700 Noah Jackson]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=34843 Noah Jackson Saves The Kids: Part One


Brooklyn, New York. Late Night, after Thursday Night Anarchy.
I sit at this scuffed pizza place with Vita, enjoying some delicious cheese pizza. Gotta say, not fucking bad. Haven't even seen a pube. Don't understand why New York is renowned for having amazing pizza; like it's good cunts not gonna lie but it ain't got shit on Melbourne's own. Top pizza. I devour the rest of this slice and lean back on seat, stretching my arms and looking to VV who is dabbing the napkin across her lips.

"Gotta say, cunt. This place was a shout."

"A shout?"

She says covering her food-filled mouth.

"A good call."

"Ah, gotcha."

The conversation quickly dwindles. VV finishes the last slice which I wanted but y'know, whatever, it's fine! I grab my phone off the table and send a text to dad.

"Who do you keep texting?"

"Dad. Wanna see is he's coming or not, he said 'we'll see' when I asked him to join us. Think the cunts disappointed in me."

"Why do you think that?"

I scratch the side of my head as I look out the large window to the quiet street outside.

"Because of smoking."

VV leans an elbow on the table, her palm pushing against her cheek as she looks at me.

"Well, you did smoke 20 cigarettes within half an hour."

"I was pissed, cunt! I thought everything was a good idea."

"Haha, you were pretty drunk. I doubt Fuzz is disappointed in you though, I think it may be something else."

I squint at the cunt.

"And what's that, cunt?"

VV places her chin on both her clasped hands.

"I don't think he wanted to chaperone a date."

I pull my head back with a raised eyebrow.

"This isn't a date."

"Huh-huh."

"... It's not!"

VV grins and relaxes back against the seat.

"If you say so, Noah."

She says in a singsong. I scoff and look away but can't help but pull a smirk and make a quiet chuckle. I see a large, vaguely middle-eastern looking cunt waddle towards us. He scratches the messy stubble stretching over all three of his chins and comes close with a smile. The overpowering stench of cheap aftershave mixed with what can only be described as 'kitchen stank' is almost unbearable.

BIG CUNT: "You two enjoyed your meal."

"It was sick, thanks!"

VV looks to me for approval, which she gains as I give an impressed nod. The fat cunt chortles, his belly shaking under his once-white apron. He begins to collect our plates.

BIG CUNT: "That is very good, happy to know one of the last meals I will serve was a good one."

VV quirks her eyebrows.

"Oh why's that?"

I look to her and kick her shin under the table.

"OW!"

Through my teeth I whisper to her.

"Don't engage him, cunt."

The fat lad sighs and places a hand on his hip. Great, here we fucking go.

BIG CUNT: "I may have to close the place down soon." He says with a heavy heart. "Too many big companies now for Old Hashem to keep up with."

I slowly blink looking at the cunt, happy I was right saying he was middle-eastern looking and it wasn't just me being racist.

"How shit works, cunt. Maybe you can be a driver for Dominos when they take over this shit hole."

He looks to me like a sad walrus... Don't ask how I know what a sad walrus looks like. I'll say it was just a depressing day at the zoo... Man, never thought a pelican could just nick a baby so easily.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Hashem."

Fucking hell she is too nice for her own good. Makes me think how crazy this cunt actually is when she turns the switch in the fed and becomes a vicious fucker.

BIG CUNT: "It is okay my friend. I am more worried about where the children here will seek refuge here."

I was wondering about the cast of Saved by the Bell in the corner booth. Only other cunts here.

"I'd be grateful if I could stop those cunts from coming in."

"... Isn't it like past midnight? Those kids shouldn't be out."

"V." She turns around to me. "You're 17, cunt."

"And you're an asshole!"

She says with a smile.

BIG CUNT: "I shall introduce you!"

I double-take.

"No, cunt, don't do that!"

BIG CUNT: "Nonsense." Like a wrecking ball, he swings his weight to the group of four. "Kids! Come say hello to my new friends."

I sink into my seat and drag my hands down my face.

"Fuuuuuuuuckkkk meeeee CUUUUUUUUUNTS!!!"

Even VV sighs.

"It's okay, can we just pay and go, please?"

But it's too late. The autism train has already arrived at the station. These cunts roll up looking like Vinnie Lane's bastard children with as much charisma as a Ned Kaye promo. They all look around 30 but must be 15 years old... At least I fucking hope they are if Jabba the Cunt is calling them kids. The first cunt says.

RADICAL CUNT: "Whaddup dudes."

In the utmost fucking seriousness. Not a fucking hint of irony behind his shutter shades. Yes, cunts. FUCKING SHUTTER SHADES. And a white boiler suit with purple lightning bolts! The fuck kind of hellscape did I end up in. VV looks to me with genuine worry in her eyes. I swear to god I will kill this bitch for dragging me here.

RADICAL CUNT: "My name's Zach! And this is my crew."

His fucking crew.

RADICAL CUNT: "Snakey J."

What?

SNAKEY CUNT: "Sup! They call me Snakey J because I move like a snake!"

This cunt begins to do the cringiest body-popping shit I have ever had the displeasure to see. He looks like a young and less tolerable Will Smith. Gotta say, loving the zebra pants though. VV looks very puzzled.

"Snakes aren't really known for throwing their limbs out in weird rhythms but okay."

"Yeah, they usually, y'know." I put my palms together and make a slithering motion. "Slide around on their tummies, cunt."

This stops the cunt dead. Whose next to hope of this train of reasons for pro-abortion?

RADICAL CUNT: "Up next we have my homeslice, Skinny P."

SKINNY P: "Yo yo yo yo! Skinny P in the hizz-house!"

This one beatboxes. Delightful!

"Seriously, we can just pay and leave."

VV pleads with fat cunt. I, however, have accepted my fate. I look forward to deepthroating a shotgun barrel very soon. Perhaps for my last act, I'll cast aside my selfish persona and do VV a favour, line my head against hers and end her suffering also. Like a top cunt.

RADICAL CUNT: "And lastly, we got Molly."

The nerdy one. Her ginger mess of hair tied into a bun, she slides her oversized glasses up the bridge of her nose and gives a wave. At least this cunt is quiet. They settle down.

"Hey. I'm Vita and that's Noah."

"Sick. Can we fuck off now?"

I throw a thumb back to the door as I speak to Hasham or whatever. As I do, the bell connected to the door chimes. I look back but I wish I didn't. Zach's posture changes.

RADICAL CUNT: "Oh great, these buttheads."

My face drops and I look down to the table. Man, I could use a smoke.

FOREIGN CUNT: "Well, well, well. If it isn't the uber-nerds!"

I want to cry. VV places a hand on mine, I look to her and she mouths 'we can get through this.' But can we? Why are we here? Just to suffer?

SNAKEY CUNT: "What are you doing here, Fernando?"

I look back at the cunts that just walked in. They're dressed head to toe in identical but colour swapped polo shirts, slacks and sweaters draped over their shoulders. The three of them walk over with a cocky aura. The two behind Fernando, one is wearing classic 3D glasses and the other is wearing a bucket hat, assigning them as henchmen in my mind. Fernando wipes a finger and thumb over his pube-stache.

FOREIGN CUNT: "I'm just checking in on this future demolition site before my father turns it into my own personal discotheque which you losers are not invited into!"

He and his boys laugh. Personal disco, that's fair ripper. Might have to add that to my gaff.

SKINNY CUNT: "Hey Fern, why don't you make like a tree... And leave!"

The rest of the crew 'ooh' and give Skinny cunt low fives. I tilt my head thinking that diss wasn't half bad, works after calling him Fern which is a type of plant plus bonus points for the dramatic pause. They're annoying cunts but you got to give credit for the layers involved. I look to my left in the hopes me and V can just sneak out but these cunts are blocking the path and I can't get copped for knocking out teenagers... Not again. Fernando gets all pissy.

FOREIGN CUNT: "Why don't you eat kaka! EH!?"

He gives the good old crotch chops. Nice. This cunt is growing on me.

NERDY CUNT: "Buzz off, Fern! We just want a place to hang!"

FOREIGN CUNT: "Oh the girl can speak! You can hang my dudes. Don't mind me."

The foreign cunt wanders over to the counter and places an arm down.

RADICAL CUNT: "We would chill, man, but you kinda harshing the vibe!"

FOREIGN CUNT: "Me harsh vibes? How could I? Unless I break a few things!"

He throws his arm away, hurling a singular glass to the checkered floor. The autists beside me freak the fuck out.

BIG CUNT: "Woah, buddy! Not cool!"

Zach throws his arm out to me and places a palm up. I raise an eyebrow.

RADICAL CUNT: "Woah, Noah! Calm down, dude!"

"You what, cunt?"

NERDY CUNT: "Yeah, Noah! He's not worth it!"

My jaw drops a little as I look between everyone.

"Cunt I am just sitting here!"

FOREIGN CUNT: "Oh?" The cunt saunters closer to me with a glare. "The nerd crew has a new uber-nerd, jah? Well Aussie-nerd? What you gonna do, huh!?"

I look to VV who just throws her arms up. I look back to Fern.

"What the fuck is happening right now!?"

FOREIGN CUNT: "I'll tell you what's happening Aussie-nerd! An ultimatum. You want to be the big tough guy for your friends here, I'll give you a chance to prove it."

"I think you've misread the situation here."

I shoot my hands in VV's direction, urging Fern to listen because I don't have a fucking clue whats going on cunts.

FOREIGN CUNT: "Oh no! I know what is happening, just fine. So, Noah. You versus me! You win, you get to keep your nerd hangout here but if I win. I take your girl on a date!"

Everyone 'oohs' and looks to me. I take a deep breath and compose myself.

"Firstly, cunt. Not my girl." I look to VV and places a finger up, staring a hole through her. I let it linger for a moment before turning back to this cunt. "Secondly, win what?"

He laughs.

FOREIGN CUNT: "Same way we settle all things were I come from... WE SKI!"

Ski?

"Ski?"

FOREIGN CUNT: "Jah."

"In fucking New York?"

FOREIGN CUNT: "Jah."

"In September?"

FOREIGN CUNT: "Jah! What part of this do you not understand?"

"Basically everything, cunt."

FOREIGN CUNT: "Pft, you are so simple. Simple nerds!"

I sigh. I look to VV and in some kind of mental connection, we realise the only way out of this fucking pizza place is to accept. Fuck me. I want to die.

"Fine, cunt! I accept."

The crew beside me cheer and take turns clapping and rolling my shoulder. They stop real fucking sharpish when I try and bite one of the cunts. Fern laughs sadistically.

FOREIGN CUNT: "Coolio! See you nerds on the slopes! Enjoy your loser party!"

The three cunts walk out backwards all cocky like and finally fucking leave. Big cunt looks at me with a tear in his eye.

BIG CUNT: "Thank you, Noah. You could save my business."

"No wuckas, cunt, can we go now?"

RADICAL CUNT: "C'mon guys! Let's hear it for Noah! HIP HIP!"

"NO! FUCK OFF!" I stand up and barge pass the cunts and shoot a look to VV. "VV, we're leaving, mate."

"Cool!" Vita stands up and squeezes past the fuckers and walks away with me. She briefly turns around. "Nice to meet you?" She says with some hesitation before turning back to me and whispering. "Fucking weirdos."

The bell chiming sounds our release from hell. We leave the establishment are greeted by the cold air and smell of piss. I adjust my bomber jacket as VV rubs her arms.

"Pretty cold tonight, eh?"

I look to her.

"Yeah, you should have brought a jacket, cunt."

"Hm... So you're not actually helping those idiots, right?"

"Am I fuck!? Fuck those cooked cunts!"

VV laughs in some kind of strange relief.

"Right!? I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone."

"Too right. I'll drive you back to your hotel, mate."

VV gets close beside me and holds my arm with a yawn.

"Thanks."

"No wuckas."

We walk around the side of the building and I take the keys out of my pocket but my heart drops as I here a smash. I race around the corner to see those little fucking cunts breaking the windshield of the 'beast cunt!' My beautiful baby Golf! They see me fall to my knees and scatter with horrid laughs. I look to my beloved. My poor girl. What have they done to you. VV places a hand on my shoulder.

"Noah... Calm down."

I throw my arms to the sky and cry out in a hellish scream, tearing the clouds asunder unleashing all my sick cunt energy! It punches that cunt, God in the face and curses him for all of eternity for shitting the abomination that is human life down on this Earth!

"I'll fucking kill em!!! I'll fucking saw the cunts fucking legs off and shove them down the cunts throats!!! FUCKING SHIT CUNTS!!!!"

To be continued...


"... That happened."

I take a sip of VB as I chill in my home.

"Life is fucking strange, right cunts?"

"When I was an ankle-biter, I dreamed of being a wrestler. I used to stay up late to watch tapings of old XWF shows and I was so happy when I saw Steve Jason, the original pride of Australia, walk into the ring and kick some ass. Cunt was my hero. He made me WANT to be a wrestler."

"And many, many years later. I made that dream come true."

"I started off at 15 in some scuffed indie promotion. Worked my ass off in there."

"Sold tickets on the street, help set up and take down the ring."

"Wrestle like a sick cunt."

"Clean up after the show."

"Go home and wake up in time for school tomorrow with a new batch of bruises."

"All that hard work got me noticed."

"Moved up a rung to a slightly less shitty promotion where I just wrestled."

"This was when I was in college where I didn't want to disappoint my mum and made sure I hade something to fall back on. This to me was Physical Education."

"Level 3 certificate, cunts."

"Once I graduated, I flirted with the idea of Uni but declined because fuck that. New promotion, keep the dream alive."

"Worked harder and got a part-time job at Hungry Jacks."

"Fucked hours but had enough time to do three shows a week at different high school gyms around the Victoria area."

"Then finally."

"XWF came calling and I picked up the phone with more enthusiasm I've ever felt in my entire life."

"All of the work."

"All the bruises."

"The broken off relationships with girls to focus on wrestling."

"The broke ankle that I thought would be the end of it all."

"The shitty pay."

"All finally working out in my favour to be here."

"To be a star in the XWF."

"To follow the same steps as my heroes."

"Steve Jason."

"Fuzz."

"K-Money."

"Finally, I made it."

"..."

"And now I'm in a match where some cunt's cat is on the line."

"..."

"You ever feel like you took a left turn when you should have made a right?"

"Like, yeah, I called for that match to have this stip. I wanna make a joke out of things now because XWF wants to play the punchline no matter what. Shit's busted, cunt. They want to shit on their talent and hide shit behind a curtain, fuck it, cunt. I'll play. I don't give a shit about your titles anymore, you gift them to who you think will wear them better."

"Meanwhile, I'll gut punch Ned Kaye in a way he never saw coming."

"I'll make the shit cunt feel."

"I'll make the shit cunt care."

"I'll rip the only glimmer of hope in the sad cunt's life."

"Twice we met each other in the ring before and neither time did he get the win but neither time did he get pinned."

"First time I showed the fucking world how sick I am."

"I pinned Centurion before people realised how nice it will be to take a piece out of him. I pinned him. I ruined that cunt's glorious comeback. Then Ned leeched off him because that is what Ned Kaye does. He doesn't set trends, he's a fucking parasite. He hangs on to others and sucks their fucking blood, hoping and wishing their star power will rub off on him."

"He paid Gator to make a mockery of him and called it training."

"He leapt at the chance to hold Apex's bags just for the chance it'll make him a bigger name."

"Apex got him into the Leap of Faith match."

"And he stole the win."

"By a nut's hair."

"He's not good."

"He's lucky."

"And I can fuck around with skiing against cunts and cracking the same jokes I'm known for because no matter what it's not going to change a thing."

"That Top Cunt here is getting better and better while Ned has burned out just like his Apex buddies. What got him noticed? Twitter. Where the fuck has that passion gone?"

"Where has those wins gone?"

"Where have the whispers of him being the next big thing gone?"

"The same way he's going at Relentless."

"Into the water and down the fucking drain."
]]> Noah Jackson Saves The Kids: Part One


Brooklyn, New York. Late Night, after Thursday Night Anarchy.
I sit at this scuffed pizza place with Vita, enjoying some delicious cheese pizza. Gotta say, not fucking bad. Haven't even seen a pube. Don't understand why New York is renowned for having amazing pizza; like it's good cunts not gonna lie but it ain't got shit on Melbourne's own. Top pizza. I devour the rest of this slice and lean back on seat, stretching my arms and looking to VV who is dabbing the napkin across her lips.

"Gotta say, cunt. This place was a shout."

"A shout?"

She says covering her food-filled mouth.

"A good call."

"Ah, gotcha."

The conversation quickly dwindles. VV finishes the last slice which I wanted but y'know, whatever, it's fine! I grab my phone off the table and send a text to dad.

"Who do you keep texting?"

"Dad. Wanna see is he's coming or not, he said 'we'll see' when I asked him to join us. Think the cunts disappointed in me."

"Why do you think that?"

I scratch the side of my head as I look out the large window to the quiet street outside.

"Because of smoking."

VV leans an elbow on the table, her palm pushing against her cheek as she looks at me.

"Well, you did smoke 20 cigarettes within half an hour."

"I was pissed, cunt! I thought everything was a good idea."

"Haha, you were pretty drunk. I doubt Fuzz is disappointed in you though, I think it may be something else."

I squint at the cunt.

"And what's that, cunt?"

VV places her chin on both her clasped hands.

"I don't think he wanted to chaperone a date."

I pull my head back with a raised eyebrow.

"This isn't a date."

"Huh-huh."

"... It's not!"

VV grins and relaxes back against the seat.

"If you say so, Noah."

She says in a singsong. I scoff and look away but can't help but pull a smirk and make a quiet chuckle. I see a large, vaguely middle-eastern looking cunt waddle towards us. He scratches the messy stubble stretching over all three of his chins and comes close with a smile. The overpowering stench of cheap aftershave mixed with what can only be described as 'kitchen stank' is almost unbearable.

BIG CUNT: "You two enjoyed your meal."

"It was sick, thanks!"

VV looks to me for approval, which she gains as I give an impressed nod. The fat cunt chortles, his belly shaking under his once-white apron. He begins to collect our plates.

BIG CUNT: "That is very good, happy to know one of the last meals I will serve was a good one."

VV quirks her eyebrows.

"Oh why's that?"

I look to her and kick her shin under the table.

"OW!"

Through my teeth I whisper to her.

"Don't engage him, cunt."

The fat lad sighs and places a hand on his hip. Great, here we fucking go.

BIG CUNT: "I may have to close the place down soon." He says with a heavy heart. "Too many big companies now for Old Hashem to keep up with."

I slowly blink looking at the cunt, happy I was right saying he was middle-eastern looking and it wasn't just me being racist.

"How shit works, cunt. Maybe you can be a driver for Dominos when they take over this shit hole."

He looks to me like a sad walrus... Don't ask how I know what a sad walrus looks like. I'll say it was just a depressing day at the zoo... Man, never thought a pelican could just nick a baby so easily.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Hashem."

Fucking hell she is too nice for her own good. Makes me think how crazy this cunt actually is when she turns the switch in the fed and becomes a vicious fucker.

BIG CUNT: "It is okay my friend. I am more worried about where the children here will seek refuge here."

I was wondering about the cast of Saved by the Bell in the corner booth. Only other cunts here.

"I'd be grateful if I could stop those cunts from coming in."

"... Isn't it like past midnight? Those kids shouldn't be out."

"V." She turns around to me. "You're 17, cunt."

"And you're an asshole!"

She says with a smile.

BIG CUNT: "I shall introduce you!"

I double-take.

"No, cunt, don't do that!"

BIG CUNT: "Nonsense." Like a wrecking ball, he swings his weight to the group of four. "Kids! Come say hello to my new friends."

I sink into my seat and drag my hands down my face.

"Fuuuuuuuuckkkk meeeee CUUUUUUUUUNTS!!!"

Even VV sighs.

"It's okay, can we just pay and go, please?"

But it's too late. The autism train has already arrived at the station. These cunts roll up looking like Vinnie Lane's bastard children with as much charisma as a Ned Kaye promo. They all look around 30 but must be 15 years old... At least I fucking hope they are if Jabba the Cunt is calling them kids. The first cunt says.

RADICAL CUNT: "Whaddup dudes."

In the utmost fucking seriousness. Not a fucking hint of irony behind his shutter shades. Yes, cunts. FUCKING SHUTTER SHADES. And a white boiler suit with purple lightning bolts! The fuck kind of hellscape did I end up in. VV looks to me with genuine worry in her eyes. I swear to god I will kill this bitch for dragging me here.

RADICAL CUNT: "My name's Zach! And this is my crew."

His fucking crew.

RADICAL CUNT: "Snakey J."

What?

SNAKEY CUNT: "Sup! They call me Snakey J because I move like a snake!"

This cunt begins to do the cringiest body-popping shit I have ever had the displeasure to see. He looks like a young and less tolerable Will Smith. Gotta say, loving the zebra pants though. VV looks very puzzled.

"Snakes aren't really known for throwing their limbs out in weird rhythms but okay."

"Yeah, they usually, y'know." I put my palms together and make a slithering motion. "Slide around on their tummies, cunt."

This stops the cunt dead. Whose next to hope of this train of reasons for pro-abortion?

RADICAL CUNT: "Up next we have my homeslice, Skinny P."

SKINNY P: "Yo yo yo yo! Skinny P in the hizz-house!"

This one beatboxes. Delightful!

"Seriously, we can just pay and leave."

VV pleads with fat cunt. I, however, have accepted my fate. I look forward to deepthroating a shotgun barrel very soon. Perhaps for my last act, I'll cast aside my selfish persona and do VV a favour, line my head against hers and end her suffering also. Like a top cunt.

RADICAL CUNT: "And lastly, we got Molly."

The nerdy one. Her ginger mess of hair tied into a bun, she slides her oversized glasses up the bridge of her nose and gives a wave. At least this cunt is quiet. They settle down.

"Hey. I'm Vita and that's Noah."

"Sick. Can we fuck off now?"

I throw a thumb back to the door as I speak to Hasham or whatever. As I do, the bell connected to the door chimes. I look back but I wish I didn't. Zach's posture changes.

RADICAL CUNT: "Oh great, these buttheads."

My face drops and I look down to the table. Man, I could use a smoke.

FOREIGN CUNT: "Well, well, well. If it isn't the uber-nerds!"

I want to cry. VV places a hand on mine, I look to her and she mouths 'we can get through this.' But can we? Why are we here? Just to suffer?

SNAKEY CUNT: "What are you doing here, Fernando?"

I look back at the cunts that just walked in. They're dressed head to toe in identical but colour swapped polo shirts, slacks and sweaters draped over their shoulders. The three of them walk over with a cocky aura. The two behind Fernando, one is wearing classic 3D glasses and the other is wearing a bucket hat, assigning them as henchmen in my mind. Fernando wipes a finger and thumb over his pube-stache.

FOREIGN CUNT: "I'm just checking in on this future demolition site before my father turns it into my own personal discotheque which you losers are not invited into!"

He and his boys laugh. Personal disco, that's fair ripper. Might have to add that to my gaff.

SKINNY CUNT: "Hey Fern, why don't you make like a tree... And leave!"

The rest of the crew 'ooh' and give Skinny cunt low fives. I tilt my head thinking that diss wasn't half bad, works after calling him Fern which is a type of plant plus bonus points for the dramatic pause. They're annoying cunts but you got to give credit for the layers involved. I look to my left in the hopes me and V can just sneak out but these cunts are blocking the path and I can't get copped for knocking out teenagers... Not again. Fernando gets all pissy.

FOREIGN CUNT: "Why don't you eat kaka! EH!?"

He gives the good old crotch chops. Nice. This cunt is growing on me.

NERDY CUNT: "Buzz off, Fern! We just want a place to hang!"

FOREIGN CUNT: "Oh the girl can speak! You can hang my dudes. Don't mind me."

The foreign cunt wanders over to the counter and places an arm down.

RADICAL CUNT: "We would chill, man, but you kinda harshing the vibe!"

FOREIGN CUNT: "Me harsh vibes? How could I? Unless I break a few things!"

He throws his arm away, hurling a singular glass to the checkered floor. The autists beside me freak the fuck out.

BIG CUNT: "Woah, buddy! Not cool!"

Zach throws his arm out to me and places a palm up. I raise an eyebrow.

RADICAL CUNT: "Woah, Noah! Calm down, dude!"

"You what, cunt?"

NERDY CUNT: "Yeah, Noah! He's not worth it!"

My jaw drops a little as I look between everyone.

"Cunt I am just sitting here!"

FOREIGN CUNT: "Oh?" The cunt saunters closer to me with a glare. "The nerd crew has a new uber-nerd, jah? Well Aussie-nerd? What you gonna do, huh!?"

I look to VV who just throws her arms up. I look back to Fern.

"What the fuck is happening right now!?"

FOREIGN CUNT: "I'll tell you what's happening Aussie-nerd! An ultimatum. You want to be the big tough guy for your friends here, I'll give you a chance to prove it."

"I think you've misread the situation here."

I shoot my hands in VV's direction, urging Fern to listen because I don't have a fucking clue whats going on cunts.

FOREIGN CUNT: "Oh no! I know what is happening, just fine. So, Noah. You versus me! You win, you get to keep your nerd hangout here but if I win. I take your girl on a date!"

Everyone 'oohs' and looks to me. I take a deep breath and compose myself.

"Firstly, cunt. Not my girl." I look to VV and places a finger up, staring a hole through her. I let it linger for a moment before turning back to this cunt. "Secondly, win what?"

He laughs.

FOREIGN CUNT: "Same way we settle all things were I come from... WE SKI!"

Ski?

"Ski?"

FOREIGN CUNT: "Jah."

"In fucking New York?"

FOREIGN CUNT: "Jah."

"In September?"

FOREIGN CUNT: "Jah! What part of this do you not understand?"

"Basically everything, cunt."

FOREIGN CUNT: "Pft, you are so simple. Simple nerds!"

I sigh. I look to VV and in some kind of mental connection, we realise the only way out of this fucking pizza place is to accept. Fuck me. I want to die.

"Fine, cunt! I accept."

The crew beside me cheer and take turns clapping and rolling my shoulder. They stop real fucking sharpish when I try and bite one of the cunts. Fern laughs sadistically.

FOREIGN CUNT: "Coolio! See you nerds on the slopes! Enjoy your loser party!"

The three cunts walk out backwards all cocky like and finally fucking leave. Big cunt looks at me with a tear in his eye.

BIG CUNT: "Thank you, Noah. You could save my business."

"No wuckas, cunt, can we go now?"

RADICAL CUNT: "C'mon guys! Let's hear it for Noah! HIP HIP!"

"NO! FUCK OFF!" I stand up and barge pass the cunts and shoot a look to VV. "VV, we're leaving, mate."

"Cool!" Vita stands up and squeezes past the fuckers and walks away with me. She briefly turns around. "Nice to meet you?" She says with some hesitation before turning back to me and whispering. "Fucking weirdos."

The bell chiming sounds our release from hell. We leave the establishment are greeted by the cold air and smell of piss. I adjust my bomber jacket as VV rubs her arms.

"Pretty cold tonight, eh?"

I look to her.

"Yeah, you should have brought a jacket, cunt."

"Hm... So you're not actually helping those idiots, right?"

"Am I fuck!? Fuck those cooked cunts!"

VV laughs in some kind of strange relief.

"Right!? I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone."

"Too right. I'll drive you back to your hotel, mate."

VV gets close beside me and holds my arm with a yawn.

"Thanks."

"No wuckas."

We walk around the side of the building and I take the keys out of my pocket but my heart drops as I here a smash. I race around the corner to see those little fucking cunts breaking the windshield of the 'beast cunt!' My beautiful baby Golf! They see me fall to my knees and scatter with horrid laughs. I look to my beloved. My poor girl. What have they done to you. VV places a hand on my shoulder.

"Noah... Calm down."

I throw my arms to the sky and cry out in a hellish scream, tearing the clouds asunder unleashing all my sick cunt energy! It punches that cunt, God in the face and curses him for all of eternity for shitting the abomination that is human life down on this Earth!

"I'll fucking kill em!!! I'll fucking saw the cunts fucking legs off and shove them down the cunts throats!!! FUCKING SHIT CUNTS!!!!"

To be continued...


"... That happened."

I take a sip of VB as I chill in my home.

"Life is fucking strange, right cunts?"

"When I was an ankle-biter, I dreamed of being a wrestler. I used to stay up late to watch tapings of old XWF shows and I was so happy when I saw Steve Jason, the original pride of Australia, walk into the ring and kick some ass. Cunt was my hero. He made me WANT to be a wrestler."

"And many, many years later. I made that dream come true."

"I started off at 15 in some scuffed indie promotion. Worked my ass off in there."

"Sold tickets on the street, help set up and take down the ring."

"Wrestle like a sick cunt."

"Clean up after the show."

"Go home and wake up in time for school tomorrow with a new batch of bruises."

"All that hard work got me noticed."

"Moved up a rung to a slightly less shitty promotion where I just wrestled."

"This was when I was in college where I didn't want to disappoint my mum and made sure I hade something to fall back on. This to me was Physical Education."

"Level 3 certificate, cunts."

"Once I graduated, I flirted with the idea of Uni but declined because fuck that. New promotion, keep the dream alive."

"Worked harder and got a part-time job at Hungry Jacks."

"Fucked hours but had enough time to do three shows a week at different high school gyms around the Victoria area."

"Then finally."

"XWF came calling and I picked up the phone with more enthusiasm I've ever felt in my entire life."

"All of the work."

"All the bruises."

"The broken off relationships with girls to focus on wrestling."

"The broke ankle that I thought would be the end of it all."

"The shitty pay."

"All finally working out in my favour to be here."

"To be a star in the XWF."

"To follow the same steps as my heroes."

"Steve Jason."

"Fuzz."

"K-Money."

"Finally, I made it."

"..."

"And now I'm in a match where some cunt's cat is on the line."

"..."

"You ever feel like you took a left turn when you should have made a right?"

"Like, yeah, I called for that match to have this stip. I wanna make a joke out of things now because XWF wants to play the punchline no matter what. Shit's busted, cunt. They want to shit on their talent and hide shit behind a curtain, fuck it, cunt. I'll play. I don't give a shit about your titles anymore, you gift them to who you think will wear them better."

"Meanwhile, I'll gut punch Ned Kaye in a way he never saw coming."

"I'll make the shit cunt feel."

"I'll make the shit cunt care."

"I'll rip the only glimmer of hope in the sad cunt's life."

"Twice we met each other in the ring before and neither time did he get the win but neither time did he get pinned."

"First time I showed the fucking world how sick I am."

"I pinned Centurion before people realised how nice it will be to take a piece out of him. I pinned him. I ruined that cunt's glorious comeback. Then Ned leeched off him because that is what Ned Kaye does. He doesn't set trends, he's a fucking parasite. He hangs on to others and sucks their fucking blood, hoping and wishing their star power will rub off on him."

"He paid Gator to make a mockery of him and called it training."

"He leapt at the chance to hold Apex's bags just for the chance it'll make him a bigger name."

"Apex got him into the Leap of Faith match."

"And he stole the win."

"By a nut's hair."

"He's not good."

"He's lucky."

"And I can fuck around with skiing against cunts and cracking the same jokes I'm known for because no matter what it's not going to change a thing."

"That Top Cunt here is getting better and better while Ned has burned out just like his Apex buddies. What got him noticed? Twitter. Where the fuck has that passion gone?"

"Where has those wins gone?"

"Where have the whispers of him being the next big thing gone?"

"The same way he's going at Relentless."

"Into the water and down the fucking drain."
]]> <![CDATA[The Perfect Storm]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=34838 Wed, 18 Sep 2019 19:28:28 -0700 Big D]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=34838
Things were going about as well as my win/loss record. The fish weren't biting, and I wasn't sure if there were any around or if they were too smart to fall for the ole worm on a hook trick. I had tried to smoke a joint to calm my nerves, but the rain prevented me from lighting it. After a few more attempts, the strong winds swept it out of my mouth and into the sea.

Lightning filled the sky and thunder boomed, causing me to question if there was ANY fish alive worth risking my life over. Just about every part of me wanted to give up and row back to shore, but my ego prevented me from leaving without catching SOMETHING. And with that, I cracked open a cold one and prepared to meet my maker.

I was a few sips into my Blue Moon when, suddenly, something began to tug on my line, causing me to toss my beer aside and scoop up my rod. Whatever was on the other end weighed alot more than your average fish, as I struggled to reel it in. Believing I had caught Moby Dick himself, I used all of my might to bring in my prize as the storm raged on around me. After a hell of a fight, I finally managed to win the battle and pull my catch aboard, only to be shocked by the sight that lay before me...............









It was none other than the bodies of Rain & Snow, THE Perfect Storm. The semi-decayed corpses rested on my boat, as I looked on in horror. Both members of the world's worst tag team were embracing each other, showing their love for one another stood strong even in death.

I had no idea how they got all the way out there from Russia, but I certainly didn't care to find out. Not wanting to pass up the opportunity to "thank" Rain for the "effort" he put in at War Games, I delivered a swift kick to his lifeless body that sent him and his sister/lover back down into the depths of hell where they belonged.

As their bodies floated down, the rain stopped and the sky began to clear up. The sun shined directly onto my boat, and I took it as a sign to get my ass out of there before anything else happened to me. I paddled my way back to shore and kept the story of how I caught The Perfect Storm to myself.]]>
Things were going about as well as my win/loss record. The fish weren't biting, and I wasn't sure if there were any around or if they were too smart to fall for the ole worm on a hook trick. I had tried to smoke a joint to calm my nerves, but the rain prevented me from lighting it. After a few more attempts, the strong winds swept it out of my mouth and into the sea.

Lightning filled the sky and thunder boomed, causing me to question if there was ANY fish alive worth risking my life over. Just about every part of me wanted to give up and row back to shore, but my ego prevented me from leaving without catching SOMETHING. And with that, I cracked open a cold one and prepared to meet my maker.

I was a few sips into my Blue Moon when, suddenly, something began to tug on my line, causing me to toss my beer aside and scoop up my rod. Whatever was on the other end weighed alot more than your average fish, as I struggled to reel it in. Believing I had caught Moby Dick himself, I used all of my might to bring in my prize as the storm raged on around me. After a hell of a fight, I finally managed to win the battle and pull my catch aboard, only to be shocked by the sight that lay before me...............









It was none other than the bodies of Rain & Snow, THE Perfect Storm. The semi-decayed corpses rested on my boat, as I looked on in horror. Both members of the world's worst tag team were embracing each other, showing their love for one another stood strong even in death.

I had no idea how they got all the way out there from Russia, but I certainly didn't care to find out. Not wanting to pass up the opportunity to "thank" Rain for the "effort" he put in at War Games, I delivered a swift kick to his lifeless body that sent him and his sister/lover back down into the depths of hell where they belonged.

As their bodies floated down, the rain stopped and the sky began to clear up. The sun shined directly onto my boat, and I took it as a sign to get my ass out of there before anything else happened to me. I paddled my way back to shore and kept the story of how I caught The Perfect Storm to myself.]]>