[Fenris]

 <img align=left src= "http://www.geocities.ws/scwmaterial/Pictures/Fenris.jpg">Las Vegas, Nevada - January 2018

The as-of-yet unnamed training facility of Gabriel and Odette Stevens, where the stars of the future have been made, or are currently in the process of development. Their track record is a testament of their proven success, as through these doors stepped none other than Evie Baang who rose to the top of the SCW Bombshell Division as World Champion, Devona who reigned as the Bombshell Internet Champion, and the four members of London Underground who still reign as the men's and Bombshells's World Tag Team Champions. But what about the future? What about that 'next generation' who seek to make their mark on the world of professional wrestling?

One such subject was not altogether eager to make that journey because he had already found much success -- inside of the professional MMA fighting circuit. We are speaking of course, of Kristjan Baltasarsson, otherwise known as 'the White Wolf.' Dubbed Fenris in the professional caged fighting scene, Fenris rose to the top in both the Super Middleweight and Light Heavyweight divisions of the worldwide EliteXL league. Three championship reigns in that world, but what would it take to transition this young man into something more? That is a story that will unfold over time, bit by bit. We could simply give the ending and let you bask in what was to come, but that would spoil the journey, now wouldn't it? It's why you do not skip to the end of a book or fast forward to the end scene in a movie;

The fun of a journey is the path in which you take to arrive.

So allow us to retrace our steps back a few months, shall we? As we travel back to January of this very year, right here in the famed "City of Sin," at this facility that has produced the cream of the crop in the wrestling world. Inside of the gym, the maker of champions -- Gabriel himself, leaned against one of the three wrestling rings set up in the spacious facility, the lone six-sided ring. Arms folded over his chest, he was engaged in a casual conversation with one of his prize students, Daniel Morgan, while the remaining members of London Underground waited (im)patiently, most notably Charlotte Elliot. The members of LU had a particular interest in this case, but that would be a story to be told at a later date.

There was the brief sound of a 'buzz,' and the resounding echo of the entrance to the facility being opened and in walked Kristjan Baltasarsson, accompanied by his ever-present younger brother, Aron who would often act as his interpreter.

Gabriel stood upright, his attention now completely on the approaching pair, said, "Well, speak of the devil..."

Charlotte, who caught herself smiling and quickly resumed her usual hardcore demeanor, frowned and asked aloud, "We're the only ones here. Who buzzed them in?"

"Probably Angel." Gabriel answered all-too casually. Osbourne nodded in understanding before he caught what Gabriel had said and frowned. He was about to turn to Daniel to ask who just raised a hand and whispered, "Let's not go there."

Gabriel waved to the approaching pair and as they arrived, he extended a hand in greeting, as this was the first time he had the chance to meet the renowned MMA fighter face-to-face. Fenris glanced at his hand briefly before he accepted and Gabriel smiled, "I'll be damned. It really is him." He turned to Daniel and smirked, "You weren't just bullshitting me."

Daniel smiled and nodded his head, when Gabriel turned back to the brothers and offered his hand to the smaller blond male, who accepted with a smile and said in a distinctive accent, "I'm Aron, Kristjan's brother. I travel with him as an interpreter."

"He doesn't understand any English?" Gabriel asked.

"None." To which Aron answered. "I keep after him to learn but he figures this is easier -- for him. Truth be told, I think he refuses just to keep me around."

Gabriel smiled and gave a nod, all too familiar with the importance of family, or at least a friendly face, when you were on the road alone. Aron was perhaps the only person who had traveled with Fenris as a member of an entourage who didn't expect something from the MMA grappler. Never-the-less, Gabriel spoke up, "Well, he's going to need to learn at least the basics of English if he wants to get far in this business, but you should still stay for his own comfort zone."

Kristjan nudged Aron who turned and relayed everything Gabriel had just said but now in their native Icelandic. Words were exchanged and Aron turned and said, "He wants to know if that's why he's here. To learn English before he starts wrestling."

Gabriel raised a brow, but answered after a brief pause, "No, he's actually here to learn how to wrestle. Professionally."

Aron relayed this to Kristjan who frowned and spoke in a hard tone, shrugging his shoulders. Aron turned to Gabriel with a sigh of resignation and said, "He wants to know why he needs to learn how to wrestle 'professionally' when he already knows how to fight."

The members of London Underground found this belief to be amusing at best, as Daniel just shook his head with a curve to his upper lip. Charlotte scratched at the back of her neck while even Mackenzie rolled her eyes. They had each discovered the vast differences between fighting and competitive wrestling.

Gabriel sighed, knowing that this particular project was going to be a challenge. He rubbed at his chin and answered for Aron to relay, "There is a world of difference between what goes on in the cage, and what goes on in here." Jetting a thumb back behind him at toward the ring. While Aron did his duty and relayed this to his older brother, Gabriel explained patiently, "For instance, it doesn't always stay in the ring. There are no cages -- most of the time -- to keep things in the ring. Fights outside happen all the time." He frowned and asked, "Has he ever even seen a professional wrestling match?"

Aron asked Kristjan this who simply shook his head in the negative.

Gabriel said, "Then he just answered his own question as to why he needs this. He's never taken a proper fall. Or been body slammed. Or powerbombed!"

Kristjan said something to Aron who sighed and he closed his eyes and translated, "He asked 'what the fuck is a powerbomb.'"

This time, it was Mackenzie who smiled and nudged Charlotte in reflection as she had asked the exact same question in their first time in this very same facility. But rather than answer directly, Gabriel furthered his point, "And he also wouldn't know what it was like to have someone fly off the top rope, aimed in his general direction."

Aron relayed this to his brother who just rolled his eyes and said something to which Aron translated for Gabriel's benefit, "He said they'd never make it that far to reach the top."

Gabriel just stared at Kristjan, hard, as if he were transfixed by the young man's sense of self confidence -- or his ignorance at the nature of the sport. You make the call. Gabriel glanced back at the LU members who stared ahead at the group, none speaking, then turned back to the brothers. Gabriel pursed his lips and nodded, then motioned toward the ring behind him.

"Tell him to get his arse in there!"

Aron told Kristjan this, who blinked, appearing confused or caught off guard by the demand. He slowly lowered his gym bag to the floor and did as instructed, rolling beneath the bottom rope and standing up inside of the six-sided ring. Gabriel then did the unexpected, and rapped his knuckles on the ring apron.

"Despy? You down there?"

Even the London Underground members were confused and started when the apron was flung up and Despayre's head peaked out from beneath the ring. Aron almost jumped in surprise, and spotting his brother's reaction, Kristjan curiously walked over to the ropes and looked down, frowning at what he saw.

Daniel broke his own silence and asked, "What are you doing down there, little fella?"

Despayre answered, one hand holding a jumbo-sized bag of Starburst and the other his tablet airing an episode of the classic British sitcom, Dad's Army. "Watching TV." He said, as if watching a program from beneath a wrestling ring was the most normal thing in the world to do.

"Well put it on pause Despy." Gabriel stated. "I need you to lend a hand out here." And that was all Gabriel had to say, because if his big brother needed him, then Despayre was there to help! He scrambled out from under the ring and stood upright, snapped to attention as Gabriel draped an arm around his slim shoulders and leaned in to whisper, "See that blond fella in there?"

Despayre tilted his head and back backwards so he could 'look' in the ring at Kristjan. He righted himself and nodded with a smile. Gabriel smiled, "Fantastic! I want you to get in there and 'play' with him."

"Right!" Despayre declared as he turned and handed Mackenzie his tablet and Starburst, pointing seriously. "Protect those Starburst as if they were Skittles!" and he proceeded to climb inside of the ring as she dipped her hand into the bag to retrieve a treat for herself. His hyper excitement immediately took over as he danced and jumped around the ring, all smiles as Kristjan just stared at him in wonder. Gabriel casually walked over to the corner of the ring where the time keeper's bell was, picked up the hammer and gave it a sharp clang and ---

Despayre jumped upright and dropkicked Kristjan right in the chest! Kristjan was sent tumbling back, head over heels by the impact, resulting in Aron exclaiming something harsh in Icelandic while the London Underground members reacted with wide eyes. And Gabriel? he just watched with casual expectations.

Kristjan rolled through and jumped to his feet by instinct alone, but Despayre was already on him; scaling his shoulders and sliding back off, throwing the Icelandic Superstar over with a cheerleader roll! Upon landing, Kristjan slammed his fists into the mat, now pissed off and embarrassed! He let out an expletive in his native tongue and jumped to his feet and charged at the little grappler! Kristjan swung wildly with a right hand, but Despayre ducked! Kristjan then sought a swinging back fist, but again Despy dodged the blow, proving what his opponents often claimed; getting a hold of the little guy was harder that catching greased lightning! Kristjan then went for a more reliable tactic and swung a leg for an attempted roundhouse kick, and Despayre just BARELY ducked out of the way, making Gabriel jerk with a start. Kristjan's own momentum spun him around and he found Despayre's arms wrapped tightly around his waist where the smaller guy picked him up off of his feet -- and he simply dumped him right on his tailbone!

The crash on the mat caused all present to wince, and Aron closed his eyes from imagining the impact! Kristjan's own eyes were wide open from the shocking pain, as was his mouth! But he fought through it and gingerly rolled to return to his feet when Gabriel called out, "Enough!"

At first, Kristjan wasn't too keen to listen and wanted to continue to try and prove himself against the former champion, but Gabriel bellowed, "I said ENOUGH!" The force of his voice caused Kristjan to turn his attention toward him as even Despayre backed meekly into the corner. Kristjan pointed at Despayre and started to say something but Gabriel cut him off, as Aron fought to keep up and translate so his brother would understand and not blow this deal due to his wild temper!

Gabriel shouted, "He did what he did because I asked him to! You do NOT take it out on him! Go after him now and you deal with ALL of us!" Gabriel motioned around towards not just himself, but Daniel Morgan as well as Osbourne. Kristjan stared hard out at the rest present and then to Gabriel who drew in a deep breath and finished, "So ... are you ready to listen to me now?"

Kristjan listened to his brother's translation, but his eyes were solely on Gabriel before he slowly yielded with a reluctant nod of affirmation.

"Alright." Gabriel nodded, satisfied. "Then let's get started."



Las Vegas, Nevada - April 2

The sun had already set over the Las Vegas horizon, and Gabriel called his last training session for his new prospects, both Fenris and O'Malley, a day. With help from both his wife as well as Despayre, things had gone well inside of the ring, but outside? Gabriel found himself having a headache of a negotiation with the stubborn Icelander. While O'Malley had taken his leave, and Despayre lent a hand to the missus to put some equipment away, Gabriel had pulled Fenris and his brother aside to try to talk some sense into the former multi-time MMA Champion.

"Look," Gabriel said as he positioned Fenris near the entrance, Kristjan's brother standing at his older sibling's side to translate. Fenris's English lessons were slowly coming along (key word; slowly) due to his proven reluctance to do away with any of Aron's responsibilities toward him. Gabriel however had taken the initiative to have an app installed on his phone, the better to quickly translate Kristjan's Icelandic to English to ease Aron's burden.

Gabriel continued, "This is something that I think you really need to consider. It's a fantastic opportunity to introduce you to the public and get you the needed experience before the push comes naturally."

Aron turned and filled Fenris/Kristjan in on what was said, and you could practically see the eye roll coming from the young rookie. And when he spoke, Gabriel's eyes went instinctively toward his phone to read the app's translation;

"Look," Kristjan started to say. "We've been through this. You and Daniel talked me into this to get into a ring and prove myself in a different environment. The best way to do that, for me, is in a one-on-one environment. Not one where I have to team with a complete stranger."

"Is it the fact your partner would be female?" Gabriel asked, to which Fenris huffed and answered, "Hardly."

The blond Nord continued, "I just don't see what I hope to accomplish by standing out on the corner, watching someone else wrestle and possibly risk losing the match for me until I get 'tagged' in." He shrugged. "Tag team wrestling just seems pointless to me."

Gabriel took a moment to stare at the man before he drew up a forefinger and pointed it right at him, stating, "Not only did you just insult me, but you insulted Despy and our championship past."

Once translated, Fenris frowned but also had the good grace to appear slightly abashed at his chosen words. But opting to cut his student some slack and move this conversation along, Gabriel went back to the original topic.

He said, "Think of it this way; a mixed tag team is similar enough to a singles match, as you can't face the woman on the opposite side. She's your partner's responsibility. You worry about whatever poor sod you're paired up against and knock his damn head off with one of those kicks of yours."

To this, Kristjan smirked, fairly (VERY) confident in his striking ability against any opposition. Sensing a bit of progress, Gabriel pressed on, "And if your team wins the entire tournament, World Championship matches for you both!"

It looked as if this caught the attention of Fenris, when he turned the tables and replied through translation, "I would have thought that reward was a given in time anyway."

Gabriel huffed. He knew full well the lad was a stubborn one but this was proving to be vexing. He made the offer, "You'd be working with others that you've never worked with before. You don't know who your partner will be, nobody does."

This arched a skeptical brow from Kristjan but Gabriel ignored that and pressed on. "New faces bring new experiences. And you'd be honoring two of the original ring legends, two of the first world champions in history."

This fell on flat ears as Fenris offered no response, since he had no sense of the sport or its history other than what was taught to him by Odette in a side class. It was she who gave Kristjan (and Aron) a full history on the pioneers on the sport, on everyone from names like 'Nature Boy' Buddy Rogers to the great Mae Young.

Speaking of, by now the final closing duties had been finished and the aforementioned Missus Stevens as well as her little helper Despayre had joined the group at the front of the gym. Odette stood at her husband's side and took his arm into her own, while Despayre stood in the middle of Gabriel and Fenris, watching their verbal exchange like someone watching a tennis match while he munched on a candy apple, a reward from Odette for his hard work.

Deciding to change tactics with this stubborn pack mule of a man, Gabriel switched from English to Kristjan's own Icelandic thanks to some of his own tiring lessons, "Hættu að hætta að vera svo fjandinn blóðugur þrjóskur og gerðu það bara!"

Fenris cringed, whether from Gabriel's use of Icelandic or the lack of interest, and waved him off, stating, "Nei, ég hef virkilega ekki áhuga!"

"Bara gefa það tækifæri. Eitt að reyna!" Gabriel stressed.

Kristjan frowned and shook his head, "Nei nei."

"Aw go ahead!"

All heads turned to Despayre and his little outburst of opinion as he stared at Fenris. Fenris, stared back while everyone else present, even Aron, wore bemused expressions on their faces.

"You know what they are saying?" Aron asked Despayre, motioning with his hand between his brother and Gabriel.

"No." Despayre shook his head and drew Angel closer to him. "But if this stick in the mud..." Motioning toward Fenris with his candy apple. "..is that dead set against it, it must be something fun!"

That being said, Despayre matched right through the door to the outside, with Odette right behind him. Gabriel just smiled and patted Fenris on the shoulder and moved to follow. Kristjan/Fenris turned to find Aron smirking at him and he pointed a forefinger at his face.

"Ekki segja neitt orð!"

He reached down to grab his gym bag and shoved it into Aron's arms and headed for the door, before his brother exhaled and soon followed.



Gabriel's Training Facility - Today

The lights are low inside, as if business had been completed for the day and Gabriel had taken his leave and returned home to his wife Odette and their son, Lucas. But just because the day had been completed for one, does not infer that there was not yet more work to be accomplished. The camera slowly moved past the front desk by the gymnasium's entrance, where a booster seat sat up on the office chair and beside the laptop was a framed photograph of a teddy bear with a floral bonnet and inscribed "Love Mom."

The door was pushed open by unseen hands, and further inside moved the camera and by now we could pick up the sounds of something striking a heavy object, along with hard breathing. As we find our way past the weights and state-of-the-art modern training equipment, we find the source to be none other than Fenris himself. Alone and isolated as he would prefer, he is clad in little else but his wrestling gear; a pair of gray spandex shorts and black and white MMA gloves. Moving lightly on his bare feet, his eyes are bearing down with icy intensity at the black, leather boxing bag that hung from the ceiling. Although everything else was modern and high tech in this gym, some things could not be improved upon. His long, dirty blond hair hung wet in his face and slicked across his shoulders, while lightly tanned skin glistened with perspiration from one of his favorite forms of exercise. His fists struck hard into the canvas bag, left and right, repeatedly as he danced back and lashed out with a kick, seemingly resulting with more impact with his foot than he had with either hand.

He moved back on the balls of his feet, drawing his fists up once again when his blue eyes found the camera upon him and he huffed in annoyance.

Fenris spoke in his native Icelandic while captions read at the bottom of the screen.

"I came late to the game. I make no apologies about that, because I am who I am. For me, this tournament isn't about what you might expect. It isn't about honoring the past or those who came before me in this sport, because I haven't been involved long enough to really care if I'm going to be brutally honest. I do not know who the hell Cora Livingston and Frank Gotch are. It's not even about working my way through to the finals with a partner to secure a World Championship match for myself. That goal would have worked out for itself eventually, anyway. No, for me? It was all about the luck of the draw and who I got across the ring from me. My very first match in pro wrestling, and I get the sorry ass bitch who decided to disrespect me for the sad little purpose of gaining some extra attention for himself. Men like Quinton Cross have to do that, you see. They have to run their mouths a mile a minute to get eyes and ears on them. I do not. I talk little but let my actions speak for themselves."

"Men like you? I've met them. You think you're special, you think you're unique."

He scoffed with a rare smile and shook his head.

"More like a dime a dozen, if you ask me. Jealousy. Desperation. You're riddled with both and proved as much the night they announced my signing on Twitter. You put your face out there on social media and barely anyone paid much attention, but then someone else comes along and starts getting the spotlight and your fragile little manhood can't take the hit. You can not accept the fact that maybe, just maybe, you are not the big dog any longer, if ever you were."

He briefly turned back to the punching bag and landed three straight, rapid fire lefts to the canvas in a blur of movement before he paused.

"Gabriel, Daniel Morgan, SCW -- they all were happy for my signing. Then you came along and started your shit.                         Some semblance of talent. It was only after Gabriel warned you against getting into a cage with me that you decided to grace us with the knowledge that you were no stranger to the MMA circuit."

He sneered and turned to the camera and held his arms out.

"Interesting how that nugget of information only came out into the spotlight after someone else did it first. You remind me of those pathetic waiters who tell people they are actors and models, when they have never been in front of a camera or walked a runway. Oh but then you correct and say you were on the 'underground' circuit."

He jetted out a bottom lip and nodded with silent, brooding sarcasm seeping through.

"That is like comparing SCW to backyard wrestling. If you were any good, you would have done it professionally."

He snapped his fingers and shook his head, a chuckle escaping him.

"Oh that's right. You couldn't. You were too busy in prison, flipping through issues of wedding catalog, planning your ceremony to a big, bald convict named Bubba!"

Fenris turned his attention back to the punching bag and drew up his fists in a fighting stance. As he started to again throw rapid jabs, he went on, "You only became MMA when it suited your whims, when you thought the claim would take some of the attention a glory hog like yourself desires but is given to others. When it became a matter of convenience. Anybody can throw some kicks and punches and say they're familiar with MMA like you did, but when someone comes in with actual professional credentials, like I did?"

He glanced at the camera with a smile.

"You couldn't handle it. That little green monster took over that big empty head. When I was hyped by both my trainer as well as my boss, oh you just had to get in on that! And when you were called out on it, the only thing you could think to say in your own defense was that you didn't lay out all your cards on the table."

He turned back and nodded as he struck three quick rights and a left into the bag.

"Well, let me fill you in on a little fact of life, Quinton. Whether it's on the underground circuit like you lay claim to, the amateur circuit, or the literal professional leagues, if you were any good, any at all, your name would be known and out there! But unlike you, I have a proven track record! I have three professional MMA championships to my list of accomplishments! And yes, there will be many more to come. Not just MMA one day, but right here, right now, in professional wrestling. In SCW! And that record of success in the ring begins this Sunday, and at your expense!"

He pointed at the camera, and thus, at Quinton Cross.

"But don't expect anybody to take anything you say as gospel, bitch, because none of it makes sense. Maybe its all that shit you smoked and injected into yourself over the years that lets you believe your own bullshit! How you could even claim to do half the shit you do, MMA, training, that shit music of yours, when you also practically brag you spent so much time in prison for drug trafficking!"

He held his arms out in wonder.

"Like fucking up your life is something to be proud of! And how you did all that when in prison, well that's just more of your bullshit lies I bet, but you'll just do what you do best when called out; you'll divert and distract. I mean, look at your bullshit on Twitter."

He paused in his workout and turned his back against the punching bag.

"I have a life outside of social media, which apparently you don't. You post all the damn time and if I don't respond right away, you think you shut me up?"

He scoffed.

"You even tried that tactic with my partner, but let me ask you something; where has your partner been during all of this? Hm? At least my tag team partner has spoken up and supported me, but Miss Otaki? Where does she stand in support of you because we have yet to hear anything from her. Maybe she's too embarrassed from the way you've been strutting around like a dog who thinks his shit don't stink? Maybe she's so ashamed of being teamed with a wanna be bitch gangsta that she'd rather abandon all pretenses of hope and yield to Courtney and myself, here and now."

He smiled with confidence and shrugged.

"I hope that's not the case, Grand Bastard Q, because I want nothing more than to have the satisfaction of kicking your head clear into the stands, and seeing the look of shock on your ugly ass mug when you realize that I really am everything that I say I am. Your superior. Your master, while you will be nothing more than my bitch. And your partner?"

He shook his head with pursed lips as he picked up a bottled water.

"I can say nothing bad about her, aside from having bad luck when it comes to partners. When Mark and Christian were drawing names out of the hat, she came out on the proverbial short end of the stick. But Miss Otaki? I know nothing about her, pother than her name generated some interest with the bosses and the fans. So at least she'll be able to provide my partner Courtney Pierce some competition before we end the match and move on to the second round."

He shook his head with an obvious expression of remorse and regret.

"But you, Cross? The only thing you'll be providing anyone is disappointment and reason why we're opening the show up as opposed to main eventing. You should probably get used to that."

Fenris screwed the cap back onto his water bottle and put it aside and turned back to resume his workout. He cast one last glance at the camera.

"Maybe you are what you want everyone to believe, Cross. Maybe you are that top dog, but Quinton? You forget; while you may be a dog, I am a wolf. And a wolf will win, tooth for claw, every. Single. Time!"

And that being said, he started to strike out against the bag again with both fists and feet while the camera faded out to a black screen.