To Mama Raven
Scene One | Off-Camera | October 17th, 2022
“Lexi baby, all drenched in gold.”
“Look at you shuttin’ us up, rockstar.”
Raven had been enjoying his night alone. James and Luna’s voices coming through the intercom said that was about to change.
“Buzz us up, killjoy. We brought beer.”
Raven sighed and hit the button to unlock the complex door, and then the other to give them elevator access. He was in the midst of moving himself more permanently to Nevada, so in the mean time he was hunkered down in a rather nice long-stay apartment. He turned and moved towards the kitchenette area, opening the cupboard and pulling three champagne glasses out. He knew them too well, there would be more than just beers. Lu was an absolute fiend when it came to the bubbles. He also took out two short glasses, and placed them upon the countertop.
There was a loud rap of knuckles at the door, and before he could let them know it was open, the door swung open. Luna stormed in, spotted Raven and wrapped her arms tightly around him. He was immediately hit with her scent of the week. Fruity, somewhat understated by her standards. It was nice, it was gentle. It wasn’t offensive. She did always smell nice. James kicked the door closed behind him.
“No, no, don’t get up. I’ll just fucking break my back.”
James grunted, Luna placed a quick kiss on Alex’s cheek, and then turned to help James. They’d definitely brought more than just beers. James had a slab of Colonial Draught under his arm. Alex was wildly impressed he’d managed to import a whole box of them. In the other arm was a bag filled with at least two bottles of Moet and the trusted classic of Jack Daniel’s Old no 7. Alex nodded his head at the edge of the bench. Luna took the bag of bottles and placed them on the counter, pulling one of the bottles of Moet out and moving straight to the fridge. James pops open the slab and pulls three cans free, throwing one to each of them.
“Thought you two flew back home. Wasn’t expecting company… how’d you find me?”
James smiled and pulled his face back into the biggest Cheshire grin he could. Sullivan, of course. Who else would give away Alex’s privacy so willingly?
“Cheer up sourpuss, we’re gonna celebrate like the old days. It’s celebration time, sugar.”
Luna pulled the ring on her can, followed by both James and Alex. The cracking sound filled the air, the slight hiss of a fresh beer being opened, and the three banged the cans together roughly, before taking big sips. It felt like home again. It’d been a long time since he’d felt like he was at home.
“Big Bad Wolf definitely got his eyes on you now, rockstar. You two could’ve been mourning buds. How sad that you’ll be too busy swinging your dicks. Ain’t that right, Lulu?”
Luna smiled and shrugged, winking at Alex. Both James and Raven made the same sound of disgust and took another sip. A look of content crossed his face soon after, and a smile.
“Take a picture Jimmy. Lexi is actually smiling. The porcelain is about to crack.”
Luna rubbed her shoulder up against him, he sighed heavily and slipped passed the both of them, and step up and then over the back of the low couch in the small living area, dropping onto his butt heavily. Luna took another bottle of Moet out, and began hunting through the drawers for a way to open it. James squeezed Alex’s shoulder, before leaning down, resting his crossed forearms on the back of the lounge and Alex’s shoulder.
“You seem grounded lately, daddy cool. Keep that cool head, and you’ll roll over this hot-headed dingbat. You got that gold again, rockstar. Crowned is the king.”
“Me, lose my cool? Never. I’m the epitome of cool, calm and collected.”
As if on cue, flash the laughter sign, the three of them broke into a raucous guffaw, the air filled with their jovial laughter. It was the little dumb things that brought them their deepest joy. Alex missed his friends. Alex missed his… happiness.
“It’s good to see you, Lexi. Everyone misses you. You don’t visit enough, baby.”
Alex smiled and raised his drink up lazily towards Luna, who had managed to open the bottle, and was now pouring three glasses. James stood up, and grabbed one of the glasses, rounding around the lounge to sit next to Alex.
“You saw me the other week. I’m not hard to find, apparently.”
That look. The classic Pasilno cutting stare. Colder than ice, and hotter than lava. Cutting straight through the heart. He’d never get used to it. It was bad enough James could look at him like that, let alone Luna. The slight twitch of irritation at the edge of the mouth, and then back into her warm smile. The Pasilno siblings were always so quick at moving back to their warmth.
“Talking about missing you. You been back out there lately? It looked barely lived in when you were there, I can’t imagine it’s doing well.”
James was talking about his childhood home. Alex had been living there for a while. It was the place he was in the process of moving out of. ‘Moving out’ of was a bit of a stretch, really. He’d barely been living there, just floating back and forth between different stays in Vegas and the surrounds. The place was filled with ghosts he no longer wanted to face. Memories of his dad, memories of his mum. Memories of meeting James and Luna. Lots of memories of Luna.
God he hated her.
“I think I’m going to do one last sweep. Go and see it one last time. Say my goodbyes to mum. Say my goodbyes to dad. See the ghosts off, you know? Might be a good place for some tranquility. Fire pit under the stars for old times sake.”
“We’re probably gonna hang around for a bit longer this time. Jimmy and I want to do the rounds, say our his and byes, you know. Maybe we could come with you?”
He knew the question was coming, and his heart pang with pain regardless. He could avoid a lot of things, but taking Luna there felt like a betrayal. Or rather, taking her back there. Lauren never got to visit, she never got to experience that night sky. The little wooden house in the field. But, he also knew they’d come regardless.
“She was like a mama to us too, Ravey-baby. We wanna say our goodbyes, just like you. Let us come with you, please, rockstar.”
Alex nodded, placing his beer down on the coffee table, taking the two outstretched glasses from Luna. She then lifted herself up and over the back of the lounge, and plopped herself down in the corner section of the L. Alex handed her back one of the champagne glasses, before the three of them clinked them together.
“To family.”
“To Mama Raven.”
“To the King Rockstar.”
Smiles, and laughter. He was glad they’d interrupted his isolation. He missed them. And the more obsessed he became with his war on the wolves, the more he realised. He needed his friends. He needed his ‘Conspiracy’, and they needed him too.
They were all so broken.
King James
Scene Two | On-Camera | October 18th, 2022
Six cloaked figures, stand in columns of three. Shoulder to shoulder, faces obscured. A desolate wooden room, loose bulbs hanging from the ceiling, swinging in the tiny space. At the far end of the room, Alexander Raven sits in a wooden chair, a high back, and solid sides. A pseudo throne. Bare-chested and in ripped black jeans, crimson red boots, black laces. Draped over his shoulder was the Internet championship.
“King James.”
Alex raises his left arm, flicking his hand slightly. Dismissively. The figures in unison stomp once. Raven looks up towards the ceiling, at one of the bulbs, lowering his arm slowly. His elbow resting on the armrest, his palm facing upwards.
“Austin James Mercer. King James. Whatever takes your fancy, for it matters not. The respect in the name remains the same. Despite everything, despite the nastiness. Despite the disparaging, despite the disdain. Respect laces the names I give to those who I understand the pain of. Grudge match or no, the truth is this, King James. We first crossed paths in the land of mythology. To be crowned King for a Day. What happened, King James? We both failed. To be crowned the King for only a day, we both fell down. I went on, to capture my first championship. I went on to become the Roulette Champion. I went on to defeat my first wolf in Finn Whelan, the would-be King of the Sin City. I took my wheel of fate and wore it proudly. I fought off the wolves once again, and on the ocean blue stood tall and proud. I made sure I stood tall so that Griffin Hawkins could see that all these years later, I was better. I was stronger. That I wasn’t the upstart child that he once took down at the headline show of the year in UECW. That I wasn’t the upstart child who took the shortcut to the apex by nearly ending the career of our mutual friend and my mentor, Alexander Remington. I stood as champion, because I needed to prove something to not only Griffin, but to myself. I needed to prove that I wasn’t just an upstart child. That I wasn’t just a transitional champion. That I could be more than the False King.”
“So on that Ocean Blue, I cut the throats of two yappy pups, and the brutish bulldog. I solidified myself as the true champion of fate when I got my vengeance on ‘Speedo’ Bill Barnhart. And then it fell down. The wolves, they circle when they smell blood. Hungry and ever present, you and your kin. Miles had something to prove. Everything to gain, and nothing to lose. The support of every other snarling dog at his back. He took me to a place that I hadn’t been in a long time. He took me to a place of anger. He took me back to the beginning. To the upstart child who took the shortcuts. He took me back to the man I was when I feel at the boot of Griffin Hawkins. I’ve talked about this before, but I need you to understand this. I don’t prattle, for the sake of prattling. I don’t bark for the sake of barking. I paint the truth with the words I speak. That’s not an arrogance. It’s a truth. It’s a reality. It’s the reality I intend to make constant.”
One of the cloaked figures steps out of line and removes a book from their cloak. A brown leather bound tome. The figure slowly steps back into line. Raven now holds up his right arm. Once again flicking his wrist dismissively. His gaze shifts now, lowering to the book balancing upon his upturned left palm. Slowly he lowers his right arm, resting it upon the right arm rest, palm turned downwards.
“I acknowledged Miles’ victory. Lachlan made note of the ‘lip service’ I paid. Call me old school, call me a schmuck. Call me whatever makes you feel better, the truth is this. In victory I paint the world red with my arrogance. In defeat, humbled in my humility. On any night, the other man can be the better. On any night, the man can be the person who has something more to prove. Just like I had something to prove when I stepped onto the cruise. Miles had something to prove in India. To silence my badgering. However, despite my respect for Miles in that moment, the anger remained. Distraction by the baying wolves. Every one had something to say. Finn, Miles, Zoey, Lachlan. Some dick called Dickie? I don’t know. I don’t think anyone actually knows who they are. Hell, even fucking Fenris had something to say. Wolves everywhere and full of nothing but vitriol. So many of you claim to stand alone, yet in the end you all hold each other’s backsides. Distraction leads to anger. Anger leads to shortcuts. Shortcuts take me back, and in that I become the upstart child once more. The False King. No longer the Broken Messiah. No longer the leader of The Conspiracy. I become the words that paint the truth. The drooling words of the wolves become the reality.”
“Yet the one who took the most issue with me was you, King James. You took issue because I dared mention your name. I mentioned you because you were a man I had experience with already. I mentioned you because you are someone that I can see a lot of myself in, and I know, as much as you may hate it. You can see a lot of yourself in me. Different pathways to pain, yet pain all the same. I do not pretend to know the extent of your sorrow. I do not pretend to understand what happened, and I never will. I never will because I know my own pain. And only yourself can know the pain of losing someone. Only yourself can know the pain of losing the one holds the fragile glass that is our heart. I mentioned you, because it baffles me that you, of all people put your name to a group of people unable to support their own wars. Both yourself and Finn scream independence of it, but yet collapse into the same failings. The only difference with you, King James. Is you keep your silence. And that I can respect. The silent wolf who sits at the fringe is far more respected than the boy who keeps crying the name. I mentioned your name, because you are the one who in your desecration, the biggest truth can emerge. I paved a path forward for Finn Whelan. As much as he will want to deny it, in my victory over him, freedom. I changed his trajectory by giving him the power to be free of the Wheel of Fate. Now he stands ready to claim the biggest crown in this here City of Sin. He stands ready to take it all by the horns. Anyone can deny it, but the truth is. Finn owes not only his option to be the next king, to me. But also owes me the fact that he has the opportunity. Because I took yours.”
A figure from the right hand side slowly moves towards Raven. They pull what appears to be a sheet of red silk from their cloak and drape it over the right hand and arm of Alexander Raven. A stomp from all six once more before the one near Raven slowly moves back into his group. Raven slowly turns his gaze towards his right arm, gazing down at the silk as he turns his left hand, and brings it down onto his waist. He then deposits the brown book on his lap, his eyes fixated still upon the red silk.
“Two birds, one stone. I showed Finn a path that didn’t involve the wolves. I took the one that is acclaimed as the vicious beast and fixated his gaze upon the bird pecking at the corpses. For the second time, in my maiden year here, I took a wolf by the throat and cut his crown free. High Stakes is the anniversary of my signing with this company. High Stakes marks one year of Alexander Raven. A man who six months ago people said was a flash in the pan. Full of empty words and no action. A man, who in twelve months is a two time champion. A man who twice has taken a member of Wolfslair on their rise and cut them down to size. First Finn, now Lachlan. However, this time a change in destiny. Austin, I am not going to be lulled into a state of anger and frustration. The truth is, in a contest of pure strength, I will lose nine times out of ten. The truth is, you are bigger, stronger and meaner than I am. I have no qualms acknowledging that. In the same way that I was the Goliath to Lachlan, the Little Scrapper, you are mine. The difference, King James. The difference is Lachlan was not my David. I am yours. I said these words to Ken, and fate would behold that not the truth. Ken and I went the distance, and I came up short. I respect the man who understands the desperation of the broken. A man who, even with his brothers at his back, stands alone. A group of men, who do not interfere in the wars of the others. Saviours in both behaviour and name. I respect Ken, and I told him, what I will tell you. I will tell you, what I told Lachlan.”
“I am, Alexander Raven. The man who everyone wishes to see fail. The man who everyone cheers the defeat of. Happiness in my failures, because it validates their disapproval. Happiness in my failures, because nobody wants to listen to the man that spits the truths they don’t want to acknowledge. Happiness in my failures because they hate seeing someone not part of their distorted control group of power have any level of success. I said it to Lachlan, and I’ll continue saying it. I have done nothing but earn every god damn fucking opportunity laid before me in the twelve months I’ve been here. I have emerged the victor in multi man matches. I have emerged the victor in singles matches. I have emerged the victor to earn every one of my opportunities. I solidified their faith when I defended the Roulette title in successful back to back defenses. When I beat Finn, Miles and Speedo Barnhart. When I beat Barnhart once more. I validated their beliefs when I went toe to toe with Ken Davison. I validated their beliefs when I stepped to the challenge of Austin James Mercer, the big scary fucking brute of a man. Who throws his weight around like it means a god damn thing beyond the idea that he purports as an absolute truth. I’m not afraid of you King James. I’m not afraid of anyone. You may be stronger and you may be bigger, but I’m a whole lot tougher than anyone gives me credit for. Every time I fall down, I get the fuck back up and climb even higher. Scrapped knees and elbows, bruises and contusions, blood and guts. It doesn’t matter. I am the god damn One True King. And if I have to rip through every single one of you mutts, I will. If I have to break you, I will. If I have to blood you, I will. I have no issue being the judge, jury and executioner of you King James.”
Slowly he bends his right arm and holds it horizontally across his chest. He lowers the red silk sheet onto the book slowly, covering it in the fabric. After dropping it entirely onto the book, Raven grabs hold of the Internet Championship and holds it in both hands, turning it to face him. Holding it in front of him, he stares straight into the face plate.
“King James, I hope you are listening. The truth however is it doesn’t really matter if you do. Lachlan didn’t listen, and I took the Internet Championship away from him. In doing so, I added some High Stakes to our encounter. I know something more now, than I did twelve months ago. I know something better now than I did before India. I now know that I cannot go back to the upstart child that I once was. I cannot hide in the wallowing pitying of my woe is me attitude. I cannot become complacent and I cannot assume my guided hand in fate. No, King James. I must take the reins of the bull and push forward. I must swim against the current. I want you to listen, because I want you to truly understand what I’m saying. I’m not afraid of you. You will not threaten me into silence or panic. You will not threaten me into making a mistake. You will not goad me into aggression or anger. Brutish behaviour from you, was met with the feather touch of misdirection. I took your opportunity because I wanted your attention. I have it now. Now I have the red flag to taunt the bull. I now hold the Internet Championship. I’ve taken another crown away from the wolves, and I get to dictate my terms. I promised that I would walk into Climax Control the challenger, and leave the champion. I promised that I would show everyone that I am more than just talk. That the respect that Ken Davison has for me, is not unfounded. That the opportunities given to me, aren’t for naught. That the change I intend to illicit in this here Sin City. The shattering of the stained glass sky of lies that I promise is coming. I proved on that promise. I beat Lachlan clean as a whistle. Made him pass out in the middle of that ring. I have no problem putting people out. I have no problem breaking people if that is what I need to do, to ensure that they understand the words I speak as truth.”
“The mercers of an era long past, would once weave textiles to show the victors of battles past. Bolts of silk and velvet. Fabrics as intricate as the stained glass windows of the English churches. King James, you are the third, but you won’t be the last. Like the Sixth and First, your time will pass. A crown passed on to the next, and the hands of fate will force that change. I am your fate, King James. I am the passing of time, and the inevitable death. Not just of you, but of all of the Wolfslair. I am the judge, jury and executioner.”
Alex grips the championship in his left hand more tightly as he releases his right hand. He once again places the belt over his shoulder and grips the red silk on his lap. Throwing it forward it slowly swirls to the floor. Where the book once had been, now sits a tarnished crown. Cracks mar its surface, colour dulled and empty slots where gems may have once sat. Raven lifts it from his lap and gently places it upon his head, the figures stamping once more, as they all pull glass lanterns slowly from the folds of their cloaks. One by one they ignite, all six now swathed in the lantern light.
“High Stakes is an apropos place for this battle. The stakes are high, for both of us. Failure to beat me ensures that another wolf falls victim to their chirpy little raven bird. Failure to beat me damages this haunting, scary aura you attempt to exude. I stand to become a shadow of my past once more. A transitional champion, an upstart child who fails when the time calls for it. I don’t intend to fail, King James. I do not intend to forsake the truths. I do not intend to fall at your feet and make true your asinine ramblings. No truth will given to the claims of the bloodthirsty mutts. I intend to continue my warpath, and I will cut down any who would stand in my way. This championship is my path forward. The meat to bait the wasps. Angry and nasty little pests who do nothing but irritate. You are a gnat who will be crushed, King James. I know what it takes to beat men like you. I know what it takes to beat better men than you, and I promise you this. No matter the respect I hold when I speak your name. And I will speak it without fear. No matter the respect, understand this. Listen to me, and understand.”
“I am Alexander Raven, the One True King. The Broken Messiah and the False Prophet. I am the Internet Champion, and the thorn in the side of all baying wolves. And I will mount your fucking head on the wall as a warning to all.”
The six figures stomp once more, before in unison throwing their lanterns at the silk on the floor. The glasses shatters, flames flickering as the silk goes up in flame. A leap of flames in the middle of the room, rapidly tracing an unseen line through the wood. A figure ignites above Alexander Raven, a raven with its beak in the eye of a wolf’s head.
“Quoth the Raven, ‘nevermore.’”
Darkness begins to creep in.
Stomping sounds, over and over. The crows of birds, the howl of a wolf and the crackle of flames.
And then…
Darkness.
Silence.
Nothing.