[Son of Salem]

 
Two years past - Salem, Massachusetts

Rinoa's birthday fell on the 16th of July, and each year she had always instructed her husband not to make a fuss nor get her anything. And every year he ignored her wishes and did just the opposite.  It might sound an unusual thing, coming from a man that waged such a horrific war against Ben Jordan, one of the most popular superstars in SCW history. But there was no denying the simple fact; Kedron absolutely loved his wife, so strongly that even the fact he was devoid of both heart and soul could not deny the fact.

And usually Kedron would take her to her favorite restaurant, Rafns. An elegant getaway that served a dining experience seen nowhere else in Salem. A blend of modern and experimental foods with soft candlelight and little decor so as to stimulate conversation. And the gifts? Ordinarily it was elegant clothes or jewelry, sometimes even a trip somewhere that Rinoa had simply mentioned in casual conversation, a passing fancy that her husband wasted no expense on fulfilling. In truth, she was quite spoiled as a wife but she was of such a humble and loving heart that she did not display nor take advantage of it.

This year, however? Things were quite different. This year, the husband and wife celebrated at their home. This year, there was no jewelry. No expensive trips or fancy clothes to add to her already extensive wardrobe. Rinoa sat in their spacious living room, a soft smile on her face with a velvet cloth draped around her eyes so she could not peek. Kedron emerged into the room from the home’s foyer with a large box in hand, with conspicuous holes cut into the sides. He walked around her so that he stood in front and placed the box down on her lap, and only then was she allowed to remove her blindfold.

Rinoa looked down once at the plain, brown box, then up into his warm, chocolate brown eyes and she smiled.

Rinoa Williams: “Kedron, what have you done?”

Kedron himself smirked a satisfied smile, one that bore the confidence he felt swelling inside.

Kedron Williams: “Now were I to tell you, it would defeat the entire purpose of you opening your present. Now go on.”

He nodded toward the box.

Kedron Williams: “Open it!”

She need not be asked twice. She took the lid in her fingers and slipped it off, gazing inside and a soft gasp escaped her. Inside of the box were three sphynx kittens; all three huddled together on the blanket at the bottom for their warmth, all three sleeping soundly. Rinoa looked up to him with a warm smile, her eyes speaking volumes on the joy this present had bestowed on her heart. Like Kedron, Rinoa absolutely loved animals. Cats, especially. And like her husband, she had dearly wanted to be a parent but such a miracle was not to be. Hence this year’s very specific, very special gift.

She reached down into the box and slipped her fingers under the nearest sleeping kitten's body, stirring it and her two siblings awake. Rinoa held it  up in front of her and it looked into the eyes of her new mistress while Kedron watched. Had he a heart, it would have been warmed at the sight. Kedron then looked down at the two other kittens, each of the three six weeks old, and they were awake and scuttling around the boxes inside on weak, stubby legs.

He reached  down to pick one up as Rinoa had done when…

**hiss!**

Kedron Williams: “Ow! You miserable little…!”

Kedron looked at his finger and the small cut in his fingertip the kitten left him, a small forbearance of what was to come over the next two years.



Salem, Massachusetts

Night time...

The Victorian manor that Kedron and Rinoa Williams called home. Yet it was empty of life, as the Williams and their three feline companions had relocated to Las Vegas, Nevada and the Saxon Hotel for the time being during the tumultuous threat of COVID-19. Or at least, it was thought to be empty…

The shot was from the house’s interior where the outline of a figure could be seen through the frosted glass panels of the house’s double front door. The figure looked to be peering inside, but could see nothing through the make of the glass. After a moment working over the door’s lock with a lock pick gun, there was the tell-tale sound of a latch overturning, and the door was pushed open and the masked figure, clad in black from head to toe, made his way inside of the estate.

He wasted no time, and seemingly knew exactly where he was going and what he was looking for. He moved through the foyer at the main entrance, and stalked down the hallways interior in the direction of the kitchen. He used no flashlight, so as not to draw any attention from the neighbors... Not that there were any that lived close enough that could draw the attention of the authorities. It was simply a wise precaution on his part.

Setting foot in the kitchen, he quickly pulled his mask off and looked around carefully. He was a man that has not even yet reached his prime in life. In his late thirties or perhaps early forties. Clean shaven, a mop of sandy blond hair that just reached below the ears, and dark makeup smudged beneath his eyes. He had a maddened expression on his face as he looked around and then spotted what he was almost assuredly seeking; the basement door.

At the base of the steps, the door could be seen being pulled open and the man hurried down the steps as quickly as he was able. Once arriving at the bottom he looked around at his surroundings. There was not much furniture in the basement, as neither Kedron nor Rinoa took a liking for clutter. Paintings that Kedron had done himself, collections of varied degrees, and family heirlooms. That was about as much as what one would find down here, save for the sealed door that led to Kedron’s private ceremonial chamber. That door was suddenly broken open, with a savage kick from the intruder! The moment he stepped inside, he saw it.

The Grimoire.

Set up on a ceremonial book pedestal, the would-be thief marched right up and tore the book off of its pedestal and into his tight grip. He looked at it with a self-satisfied smirk and turned around to take his leave, and get this property back to those in power, behind the Cult of Blood.

He took that first step... And stumbled. A wave of nausea immediately washed over his senses. He blinked and frowned. Something was not right as he reached up towards his face with his free hand and touched the base of his nose. He pulled his fingertips away and saw that they were stained crimson. His nose began to bleed heavily, as did his ear canals. For the first time since entering this homestead, the intruder’s face bore a mark of concern, of fear.

Sweat broke out on his brow and he clutched his chest. His vision grew more blurry with each step. He coughed and bloody spittle sprayed out as he staggered towards the door, intent on making his escape with his ill-gotten gain. Had there been a mirror nearby, he would have also noticed the blood vessels in his own eyes had burst, staining the white of his eyes red. And just as he reached the door frame of Kedron’s sanctuary, his legs gave out from underneath him. He stumbled one last time and fell to the floor…

It was security footage. The camera drew back to reveal watching it was none other than Kedron’s former ally in Marquis Leveaux and Gideon Blackwell, watching on the monitor of Marquis’s laptop. Marquis was seated at his desk, fingers curled against his lips, while Gideon stood behind his chair. Shaking his head.

Gideon Blackwell: And this is the man you stole from? Willingly?

Marquis said nothing. He did not reply to his friend’s childish goading. Rather he picked up the handwritten note that came with the footage. It simply read…

”A precaution I took, on the likely chance you got the fool notion in your head to try and retrieve what was never yours. Or worse, were you to get the idea to send poor Griffin after it instead. Leave it from your mind, Marquis. I do not wish to make you any further of an enemy than you already have made me.”

“It is mine. It is safe. And incidentally, I do not understand why you have had such a difficult time with this Cult. Check the records of the University Medical Center here in Las Vegas. You’ll find what is left of one of their members that my wife’s CATS dealt with!”



Las Vegas - Rooftop of the Saxon Hotel

The moon was high, and although the stars could not be seen in part to the bright lights of the Vegas Strip, it did not stop the reigning Roulette Champion from relaxing back against a deck chair, his legs stretched out before him and enjoying no small amount of peace to himself while most of the hotel’s residents were by now fast asleep.

Kedron Williams: “Well, I wish that I could say  I'm surprised by who the first challenger is for my very first act as a defending champion,  but I'd be lying if I said I was. And I may be a great many things, but a liar is not one of them. After being stuck in two back to back on-time matches since I defeated Jack Russow, who else should my first defense be against than Lachlan Kane? After all, he did earn this chance.”

“Or did he?”

“You'll have to forgive my skepticism Lachlan, but you can hardly fault me my doubt. I'd say we were at an impasse. You might even offer the old adage that we can agree to disagree but…”

Kedron scrunched up his face in a frown and shook his head.

Kedron Williams: “That's not so much the case, is it? At least to any with eyes or an ounce of honesty. You see, in most cases if a man defeats a champion where the title is not at stake, then indeed, yes. I would say that would make him the legitimate number one contender. But you didn't exactly beat me, did you? At least, you didn't do it on your own. It was more of a family affair against me, a group effort. That's what it took for you to be able to pin my shoulders. Otherwise you couldn't do it alone.”

Kedron rolled his eyes as he relaxed back against the lounge chair and swirled the wine in his glass.

Kedron Williams: “Now I understand that you had something of a scene with Sierra backstage following our little encounter, and I have to commend you for that. I have seen some of the finest performances on Broadway, from Hamilton to The Phantom of the Opera, but never before was there a finer performance than what happened between you and Sierra. Did you not think I would notice? Or that word would not get back to me? There were cameras. There were witnesses. Maybe deep down, your own wife was telling you what she really thinks of you and your capabilities inside of the ring. Otherwise... One, why would she have felt the need to help you in the first place? And two, if she said she had no regrets, does that not speak volumes in itself? Poor, poor Lachlan. What does that say about the differences between you and me? Even at my darkest point in time here in SCW, when the ever-popular Ben Jordan and I were out for each other's blood, not once did my wife ever feel the need to interject herself in one of my matches to try and help me. Why? Because, unlike Sierra, my Rinoa has faith enough in what I can accomplish. True, I may not always come out on top of things, but I would rather lose on my own than win with another's assistance.”

Kedron took a single sip of the wine that was so deep a red that it was almost black in color. He savored the flavor rolling over his tongue before swallowing and continuing.

Kedron Williams: “Do you know what your biggest mistake was when you entered the singles division, Lachlan? Entering the singles division. I mean, seriously. You couldn't have been satisfied where you were in the mixed tag team division? You couldn't have been happy teaming with your great love and enjoying some moderate success? Even I can admit that you and Sierra were successful as mixed tag team champions. I can also admit that most of that success was at Sierra's behest. Yes, a great many people back then stated that she was the reason for the success of your team. It was well before my time in this company but looking back?”

Kedron shook his head with a smirk on his face.

Kedron Williams: “I couldn't deny the fact even if I wanted to. And then rather than work to regain the titles from a lackluster team that pretty much killed the division at the time, you decided to Branch out onto your own and chase after single gold. Tell me then, how did that work out for you? You've had opportunities before at championships, did any of them ever pan out? Did Sierra ever lend you a hand to try and find gold wrapped around your waist for the first time... Ever? And then there is me. Where I took a sabbatical from the ring, and in my first match back I won the opportunity to face Jack Russow for the Roulette championship. And in my very first championship match, I won my very first championship. Go figure. And you, Lachlan?”

“Always the bridesmaid, never the bride. Or more appropriately, always the challenger, never the champion. This match against me won't be your first championship opportunity, and it won't be your last. It also won't be your first Championship win. Not against me, not at my expense. It's been no secret how I have felt about championships, and the baubles that championship belts seem to represent for the human ego. But where you're concerned? After what your wife did? I think this one time, I'm going to State this out right. You are not going to take what is mine. Championships may not mean to me what they mean to so many others in this sport, but the roulette title is still my own. And I won't give you the satisfaction of walking away as the new champion! You can't beat me without your wife's assistance! She proved that almost four weeks ago, and I will prove that in a matter of days!”