May 29th
Ann Arbor, Michigan
Department of Children and Family Services
***OFF CAMERA***

My mind is racing in a million different directions as Kittie and I walk into the building. Department of Children and Family Services. Not exactly a place I’ve been a fan of at any point and time in my life. So often this system has failed kids and their families, and I was one of them. But we have to be here. I have to be here, because Ember needs me, and as terrifying a thought as being a father to her is, she has no one else and thanks to some help from Synn, Phil and Kittie, I finally realized I can’t allow her to become a part of this system.

I’m gripping Kittie’s hand in my own, something neither of us is really used to. We haven’t had what people would consider a typical relationship, but it didn’t matter because it worked for somehow. But I’m pretty sure we’re about to get hit with one big test. Early on into our marriage at that.

“Dude, ease up on my hand.” Kittie whispers to me, pointing out just how hard I’m squeezing her hand. I look down at our hands and immediately release hers.

“Shit. Sorry.” I reply. She shakes her hand, trying to get the blood flowing throughout her fingers again. “I forgot I was holding your hand for a second there.”

She shakes her head with a laugh as I open the front door for her. “It’s ok. I just didn’t want to go home with a broken hand and everyone get suspicious or something.”

I roll my eyes but let out a laugh as I follow her inside the building. Since it’s early on in the business day, the office isn’t overly busy. We walk up to the front desk and are immediately greeted by a twenty-something year old blonde woman. She greets us with a smile, looking way to happy to be working in a place like this, but hey, whatever floats your boat, lady.

“Hello there. How can I help you today?” She asks, again way too cheery considering. But I guess it’s still early, and she does have a large cup of coffee right in front of her.

“Yeah I’m here to meet with Diane Macintosh. She called me yesterday about my daughter...Ember.” I respond. The blonde starts going through a few papers on her desk before looking back up to me.

“What was your name?” She asks.

“Ra...Jake. Jake Sullivan. My daughter is Ember Blaze.” I damn near give her my ring name, which would have been pretty awkward, but she didn’t even notice me stumbling in my response. I’ve never liked giving anyone my birth name, but oddly enough it’s been growing on me lately.

“Ahh, yes.” She replies, finding what she was looking for. “If you can have a seat for a few moments while I go get Ms. Macintosh for you. And help yourself to some water or coffee as well.” She points towards a Kuerig set up on a table over by the chairs in the waiting area.

I nod and take in a deep breath as Kittie and I turn around, heading over to the chairs. Kittie heads over and grabs a bottle of water out of the mini-fridge and looks back at me as I take a seat. “You want some coffee or something?” She asks, but I just shake my head. The adrenaline is working enough for me and when Kittie takes a seat next to me, I’m fidgeting my left leg uncontrollably as she opens her bottle of water.

“I’m still expecting this to be some sort of fu...messed up nightmare, Kittie.” I say quietly. And it was the truth. Electra and I were far from on friendly terms the last few years, but I never really wanted her dead. Especially not after finding out about Ember.

“I know.” Kittie replies, running her hand over my shoulder trying to get me to relax. “Electra was one crazy bitch, which is why I never expected something to actually happen to her. Or her brother. Shit is definitely messed up. But everything will be--”

“Mr. Sullivan?” Kittie is cut off as a middle aged woman opens the door leading to the back office area, looking at the both of us.

Kittie and I stand up. “That’s me.” I say as we head over to her. “I changed my mind. About taking Ember.”

She nods once but doesn’t bother smiling back to me. “Please, follow me to my office so we can discuss a few things.”

“What is there to discuss?” I ask impatiently. “Can’t you just give me my daughter--” Kittie elbows me, sensing that I’m growing impatient.

“I just have to follow procedure, Mr. Sullivan.” She replies. “Delicate matters such aren’t resolved by just handing over the child.”

I let out a sigh and look to Kittie next to me. She nods and places her hand on my back. A few moments later we follow Ms. Macintosh down the hall where she leads us to her office. We step inside and Ms. Macintosh points to two chairs in front of her desk, and she closes the door behind us. “Please, have a seat.”

We were already in the process of taking a seat as Ms. Macintosh walks around the desk, taking a seat in her own chair. She has a file folder on her desk as she looks at the both of us, folding her hands on her desk in front of her. “You seemed pretty intent on not wanting to take custody of your daughter when we spoke on the phone yesterday, Mr. Sullivan. Tell me. What changed your mind?”

Seriously? Is this going to be an interrogation or something? I glance at Kittie, scowling and she nudges me again. I turn my attention back to Ms. Macintosh, trying to remain as patient as possible with her, as dificult as that may be. “I just had some time to think it over. I mean, I didn’t even know I had a daughter until last summer.”

She nods and leans back in her chair. “I see. And how was your relationship with Ember’s mother?”

My jaw drops and I stare at Ms. Macintosh for a few moments, dumbfounded. Kittie clears her throat, but remains quiet, letting me handle this. “It was complicated. More than complicated. Electra was a crazy bitch, and I’m pretty sure you know that. What does that have anything to do with me taking custody of Ember? Electra’s dead. And so is her brother.”

“I understand that, Mr. Sullivan. And I’m sorry. I just have to be certain, especially after our last conversation, that your home is the best fit for Ember. You understand, I’m sure?” She responds, crossing one leg over the other. I lean back in my own chair and fold my arms across my chest. I want nothing more than to tell this lady off, but that wouldn’t help the situation any. If anything, it would guarantee I couldn’t bring Ember home with us.

“Look, I won’t lie.” I start, placing my hands on my knees. “I never saw myself having kids or being a father at all. From what I understand, Electra’s brother Danny raised Ember as his own, and the few times I saw Ember I thought he did a damn good job. A better job than I thought I ever could do.”

“But?” She says before I can finish saying everything I needed to say.

“But things change.” I reply, looking towards Kittie. “I also never saw myself as getting married, but Kittie and I just got married last month. My family back home in Vegas also has a lot to do with helping me see the bigger picture.”

“And that would be?” She asks, interrupting me again.

I take in a deep breath and let out a long sigh. “That being Ember’s father could change me even more. For the better. And I’ll be damned if I let my kid stay a part of the system and have it mess her up after she just lost her mother and her uncle...the only father figure she’s ever had.”

“Ms. Macintosh,” Kittie chimes in and we both turn and look to Kittie. “He won’t be in this alone, either. He has me. And Ember will have a pretty big extended family back home that can help look out for her.”

Ms. Macintosh nods slowly as she looks at the both of us. Kittie reaches her hand over to mine, squeezing it and we both look back to Ms. Macintosh. She leans forward in her seat, going through the file folder in front of her, which I assume is Ember’s. After a few moments, she quickly closes the file and turns her attention to me.

“Alright. I see no reason why Ember shouldn’t return to Las Vegas to live with you and your wife, Mr. Sullivan.” She replies and Kittie and I breathe a sigh of relief. “Ember has been staying with a foster family the last couple of days, and we can get her to you within the next few hours. But I was asked to speak to you about Electra and Danny Blaze if you were to come here to take custody of Ember.”

I raise an eyebrow at her curiously. “What about them?”

“Well, Mr. Sullivan, as they had no other family that we were able to find or contact, there is a little issue with handling the arrangements.” She replies.

Kittie and I both go wide-eyed. “The...arrangements?” I ask, but I know what she’s talking about.

“Yes.” She replies. “The funeral arrangements. Now, it is completely up to you. Should you not wish to handle any funeral arrangements for the both of them, the coroner will most likely have their bodies--”

I hold my hand up, stopping her before she can finish and I can feel Kittie’s eyes on me. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Are you sure? As you’re not next of kin, you have the right to--”

“It’s fine. I said I’ll handle it. Just give me the information on where to go and I’ll handle the funeral arrangements. Ember should get to say goodbye to them.” I hear Kittie sight but she runs her hand along my arm, showing her support. Ms. Macintosh grabs a piece of paper from next to the file folder and hands it over to me.

“All of the information is in there.” I take the sheet of paper, not ready to look at it just yet. “I will make a phone call to the family that Ember is staying with and make arrangements for her to be brought here. It could be a few hours so if you have a few things to take care of, I can give you a call when she’s here.”

I look to Kittie. She shrugs and I look back to Ms. Macintosh. “That’s fine.” I say, folding the piece of paper she gave me and putting it in my pocket. “I suppose we could get a head start on planning some sort of funeral for Electra and Danny.”

“I admire your decision to handle that, Mr. Sullivan.” Ms. Macintosh says, leaning back in her chair again. “For what it is worth, Ember is a very special little girl. I’m sure this doesn’t need to be said, but please be sure that she gets the appropriate support so she can deal with this unexpected loss.”

I nod, and then a thought hits me. “H-how is she, anyway?”

Ms. Macintosh folds her arms. “She seemed okay when the foster family came to get her. She is naturally upset, but these things take time. Please understand that.”

I nod again. “Yeah. I get it. Well, if that’s all for now, I suppose we should get out of here for a bit.”

“You can let yourself out and leave the way we came in. I will call you as soon as I can.” We all stand up and she extends her hand towards me. I shake her hand and then Kittie does the same before we head out of the office.

The nerves hit me like brick wall as we head back down the hallway. The gravity of everything I just agreed to starts to sink in and I almost feel like I’m going to be sick, but I’m pretty good at holding that back. I’m taking slow deep breaths as we walk out of the building and head towards the car, but I stop dead in my tracks just before we reach the car. Kittie stops and I turn towards her, in a panic again.

“You didn’t have to agree to that.” She tells me, reaching for my hand again. “Planning a funeral for two people isn’t your responsibility.”

“Yeah,” I say, nodding quickly. “It kind is in this case, Kittie. I’m not going to just whisk Ember home to Las Vegas without her getting to say goodbye to Danny and Electra. I know they weren’t my family, but they were Ember’s and I owe that to her. I don’t want her hating me right off the bat, either.” She knows I have a point with everything I’m saying, and I know I have a point, but I’m still freaking out. I bring my hands up and grip my head, quickly starting to hyperventilate.

“Dude, calm down.” Kittie says to me, trying to calm me down. She wraps her arms around my waist, hugging me, but I can’t move. “Take in a few deep breaths, alright? I get it. Shit is crazy, but the sooner we handle all of this, the sooner we can get Ember home to Vegas and move on.”

I laugh and she keeps her arms wrapped around me. “Move on? Kittie, Ember is going to be a mess over this shit. How am I supposed to plan a funeral for her mother...my crazy ex who I practically hated...and make sure that my kid doesn’t hate me?!”

Kittie runs her hands up and down my back and I take in a few deep breaths, trying to calm down. It slowly starts to work and she backs up, looking up at me. “Because that’s not going to happen. Let’s just head over to the morgue...or wherever we’re supposed to go...and start planning this. And then we can focus on Ember when we come back.”

I close my eyes and take in another deep breath, finally feeling my blood pressure return to a slightly normal level. I open my eyes and nod down at Kittie as she backs away. I take the piece of paper that Ms. Macintosh had given me and I hand it to Kittie as we walk back over to the car and get inside, figuring out our next move, and where we are supposed to go.

******************************

Several hours later…

Ms. Macintosh wasn’t kidding when she said it would take a few hours before she called. As anxious as I was to just get Ember and hop on a plane back to Vegas, it would now be several days before that would happen as Kittie and I just spent the last couple of hours arranging a double funeral for Electra and her brother, Danny. A double funeral that no one would probably even attend, except Kittie, Ember and I. But I had to do something.

Not long after finalizing the arrangements, my phone rang. I quickly recognized the number as the same number Ms. Macintosh had called from just yesterday so I answered the call after two rings this time. Ember was at the office and ready to be picked up. Kittie and I jumped in the car and quickly headed back over to the Department of Children and Family Services, which is where we are for the second time today.

We walk through the doors, hand in hand again, and the blonde at the front desk immediately recognizes us from earlier. “Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan. Ms. Macitosh is waiting for you in her office. You can head back now.” She says, pointing down the hall.

I look to Kittie, squeezing her hand. “Ready for this?”

She gives me a half smile back. “Whenever you are.”

Both of us take in a deep breath and then head down the hall towards Ms. Macintosh’s office. The door is closed when we get there, so I gently knock before I just walk inside. “Come in.” I hear her say and I grab the handle, slowly turning it and pushing the door open. I step inside first, with Kittie behind me, and I see Ember sitting in the chair Kittie had been in just a few hours earlier. She turns her head around and as soon as she looks at me, she jumps out of the chair and runs back to me. Kittie and I are both taken off guard as Ember throws her arms around me, hugging me tightly, but she doesn’t say a single word.

“Hey, kid…” I can’t even find the right words to say to her. What the hell am I supposed to say to her when she just lost her mother and her uncle? “You okay?”

Ember shakes her head and she looks up at me, teary eyed. “Mom and Daddy...I-I mean, Uncle Danny...they’re dead. They’re...not coming back.”

She hugs me again, starting to sob as I pat her back, doing my best to comfort her. I look at Kittie, completely lost on what the hell I’m supposed to do. Kittie being Kittie, she kneels down to Ember’s eye level and tries to help me out.

“Hey Ember,” she says, running her hand along Ember’s arm. Ember just turns her head and looks at Kittie, but she keeps her arms wrapped around me. “We’re real sorry about your mom and your uncle. We know how much you loved them and we’re gonna do our best to help you get through this. We’re gonna take you back to Vegas to live with us…”

“Vegas?!” She cries and looks up at me, shaking her head. “But...I live here! I don’t want to go to Vegas!”

Ms. Macintosh watches on remaining cautiously quiet as she lets us try and handle this for the moment. I look at her, and she just nods once, encouraging me to speak to Ember. Because I tower over the poor kid, I kneel down to get as closd to her eye level as I can.

“I know you don’t want to leave here, kid.” I say and she furrows her eyes at me.

“Ember! My name is Ember!” She snaps at me.

I take in a deep breath. This is going to take some getting used to, clearly. “Sorry. Ember, I know you don’t want to leave here, but we can’t stay here. We’ve got a big place back in Vegas and you’ll have a nice big room. And a pretty big extended family that’s gonna want to meet you. And I’m sure Despy--”

“Despayre?!?!” She says excitedly, her eyes suddenly lighting up. I glance up to Kittie and she doesn’t even bother to hide an amused smile.

“Yeah, Despayre.” I turn my attention back to Ember and say to her. “He lives pretty close and I know you can go visit any time you want.”

This seems to have gotten her attention, and excitement. She smiles for a few seconds but then it fades as she thinks about something. “But...what about all my stuff here?”

“Well...we’ll get what we can or we’ll just ship it back to Vegas if we have to. We’re not leaving for a few days, though.” I reply.

She thinks for a few minutes, still hesitant on the move but shr looks around to all of us before her attention falls solely on me. “What about Mom and Uncle Danny?”

“We’ll talk about that in a little bit, ok?” I say, not ready to get into the details of the funeral in front of Ms. Macintosh. “How about we go get some lunch and Kittie and I will answer any questions you got for us?”

“Lunch?” She asks, and I nod. “Can we go to Panda Express?!”

Kittie and I both let out a laugh and Kittie speaks up before I do. “Oh she’ll be best friends with Despy in no time.”

“Apparently.” I reply with a bit of a laugh. I stand up and look around, spotting a bag next to the chair. I walk over and pick it up so she doesn’t have to carry it. “You ready to get out of here?”

She nods and behind her excitement I can still sense a bit of fear and hesitant. But I’m suddenly feeling better about all of this, and so is Kittie. I look to Ms. Macintosh and hold my hand out to her. “Thanks again.”

“Anytime, Mr. Sullivan.” She replies. She grabs a business card and hands it to me. “And, please, if you ever have any questions or need anything at all, give me a call. Goodbye, Ember. I wish you nothing but the best, sweetie.”

Ember waves as we turn around and lead her to the door. “Bye Ms. Macintosh! Tell that family I said thank you for letting me stay with them!”

Ms. Macintosh smiles and nods to her as the three of us head out of the office and out of the building completely. First order of business is a lunch stop at Panda Express and then we’ll deal with the funeral and Ember’s emotional state next. As it comes.

One day at a time...

TBC...

 The trip home to Las Vegas was not only a long one, but a quiet one. Way too quiet, in fact. Kittie wanted to say something to Rage, her new husband of just a few days. But what could she possibly say to him after he lost the World Heavyweight Championship...again? Granted, he didn’t lost it to Jeremiah Hardin this time, nor was he the one that was defeated in that fatal four way match. But, he still wasn’t able to do what it took to keep the title in his possession.

And it left him speechless. Which was strange. Too strange.

Normally when things like this happened to Rage, it brought out his anger in full force. After losing the title to Jeremiah Hardin just a few weeks ago, it left his anger at an unstable level and on any given moment he was unable to control it. But he thought when it all came down to it, he thought his third run with the World Heavyweight Championship would be different. He thought this would be his moment...his summer.

But he was wrong.

It’s been just a little over twenty-four hours since Into The Void ended with J2H celebrating winning the title for a second time. Rage and Kittie are just walking back into their home in Las Vegas, not saying a single word. Rage drops their suitcases on the floor just by the door, not even bothering to carry them upstairs to their bedroom. He just sulks over to the refrigerator, opens it and takes out an ice cold beer, all while Kittie just stares at him.

He twists the cap off the beer, tosses it in the trash and takes a drink before he stops just at the center island in the kitchen. He sets the bottle of beer down on the counter and just stares at it, as the long silence continues between him and his new bride.

Kittie: Ok. I can’t take this silence any longer. Would you say something? Please?

He looks up at her, disappointment written all over his face. They should be celebrating right now. Not going through these emotions he was currently going through.

Rage: What do you want me to say, Kittie? There’s really nothing to say right now.

Kittie: You still have a rematch clause. This isn’t the end.

He lets out a laugh and takes another drink of his beer, walking around the counter and over towards Kittie.

Rage: I really don’t want to talk about it right now, Kittie. Actually, I don’t want to talk about it ever. So...just drop it.

Kittie: You’re kidding, right? You’re just...giving up?

He doesn’t say anything back to her. In fact, his next move almost shocks her, as it’s not something he’s ever done. He leans down and kisses her forehead and then walks away. Her jaw drops and she turns around and watches as Rage disappears downstairs, still drinking his beer. She brings her hand up to her forehead and finally picks her jaw up off the floor as she leans against the counter, trying to process what just happened.

Meanwhile downstairs, Rage is standing just outside what is left of his “trophy room.” The room that, just a few weeks ago, he destroyed. He hadn’t bothered to clean up after going completely insane in the room and demolishing every reminder of every accomplishment he had achieved throughout his career. He takes in a deep breath as he reaches his hand inside the darkened room and flips the light switch on the wall.

He stands in the doorway and looks around the mess he left, and takes another drink of his beer. He steps inside and closes his eyes, trying to feel something...anything. But he’s frozen.

His eyes burst open seconds later and he continues to stare around the room and what he had done. He looks down at the beer in his hand, and tries to will himself to just throw it against the wall. He wants to hear the shattering of glass. To feel the high from the destruction that follows.

But he can’t.

Rage: What the hell is wrong with me?!

Kittie: That’s what I’d like to know.

Kittie’s voice startles him and he spins around quickly, dropping his beer in the process. He doesn’t even think anything of it as he stares at her. She’s looking at the room for the first time since he destroyed it.

Kittie: You weren’t kidding when you said you destroyed this room. Do you at least feel better?

Rage shakes his head as he looks around the room.

Rage: No, I don’t. I...I don’t know what’s wrong with me Kittie. I lost the title...again...and I’m angry about it but...I can’t do fucking express it.

Kittie: You’re acting like that’s a bad thing.

Rage: This isn’t right Kittie. I’m not used to feeling all this shit.

Kittie steps over a pile of broken memorabilia and walks up to Rage.

Kittie: Look, I never thought I’d be the one to say this, but you don’t NEED to be so angry all the time. It’s ok to be calm every now and then.

Rage brings his hands up and squeezes the top of his head growing frustrated.

Rage: It’s not okay, Kittie! Not for me! It’s ruining shit for me in SCW now and I don’t know what the fuck to do.

Kittie: Dude, it’s only been twenty-four hours since Into The Void. You don’t have to have everything figured out right this second. Just take this guaranteed week off and fucking relax. That’s your problem. You worry about shit way too soon and you can’t ever seem to relax. You’ll give yourself a damn heart attack before you even turn forty!

Under normal circumstances, Rage would shoot a look at Kittie that could kill her in two seconds flat, but now? Now his head is shaking furiously as he keeps his eyes closed, trying to figure things out.

Rage: You don’t understand, Kittie. You just...don’t.

Kittie: Then HELP me to understand! We got married last week for Christ’s sake! I’m your wife now so just fucking talk to me! For once!

He continues shaking his head and his eyes burst open and he stares at Kittie. His eyes are filled with panic and his hands drop back down to his side.

Rage: You don’t...You can’t...You won’t.

He quickly stops making any sense when he speaks. Kittie reaches out to grab his arm, but he yanks it away and rushes past her and out of the room. Her jaw drops and she turns around just in time to hear the door upstairs slamming shut. She stands there for a few moments, blinking and then turns around, looking at all of Rage’s trophies and memories destroyed. She shakes her head, takes in a deep breath and then walks out, turning the light off behind her.

---

I...I don’t know what the fuck is happening to me. I thought for sure the devil inside me...the part of me that takes over in times like this...I thought for sure that side would come out. Help me figure out my next move and hopefully come up with some sort of plan of attack in regaining the World Heavyweight Championship.

But...I can’t feel that part of me anymore.

I’m angry, yeah, but...this is different. This is completely unfamiliar to me and I don’t know how the fuck to deal with this. J2H is once again parading around with the title, making his jokes and spouting off the “I Told You So’s” and now as the winner of the Blast From The Past Tournament, Lord Raab will get his shot at the title at Summer XXXTreme.

Fuck...this is not how this was supposed to go. This is not how I’m supposed to be feeling right now.

I can get the World Heavyweight title back. I know I can, whether or not everyone else believes I can. But...do I even want it anymore? I may be a three time World Heavyweight Champion, but every single “run” I’ve had with the title hasn’t gone how I’ve expected it to. So...do I really want to put myself through that shit again? Do I really want to make myself into a further embarrassment than I already am?

Fuck if I know. This is the first time in my life where I haven’t got a fucking clue what to do next.

I don’t even know who the fuck I am anymore.

---

Fast forward to a week later, and the week off should have been a much needed and welcomed time for rest and relaxation.  But it was far from that. Rage and Kittie should be enjoying the first couple of weeks as a married couple, but instead, they’ve barely spoken. And while Kittie wants to speak to him, she also wants to give him his time and space to figure things out and hopefully come to his senses.

But he hasn’t.

Kittie is currently in the kitchen making dinner for the both of them, but Rage is nowhere to be seen. She looks up every once in awhile and shakes her head, before she looks back down at the pan on the stove, stirring whatever she is making. She walks away from the stove for a moment when the sound of the door leading to the patio and pool area is heard opening. She turns her attention to the door, where Rage is seen stumbling inside the house.

He’s in just a pair of shorts and his eyes are barely open as he trips and stumbles over to the refrigerator. He grabs not one but two beers and twists the cap off of one, taking a huge gulp. Kittie shakes her head.

Kittie: Don’t you think you’ve had enough?

He doesn’t look at her. He shakes his head and then lets out a loud and disgusting belch.

Rage: Nope...

He then starts heading right back to patio door.

Kittie: Food will be ready soon. It would do you some good to eat something to soak up all the booze you’ve been drinking.

Rage laughs and shakes his head as he steps out into the pool area without saying another word. Kittie closes her eyes and growls. She heads back over to the stove and quickly shuts off the burner before she turns around and grabs her cell phone off of the counter. She goes through her contacts until she finds the number she is looking for and then hits send.

Kittie: Please don’t be working...Please don’t be working...

She almost expects the call to go to voicemail but her face lights up a few seconds later as the person on the other end answers.

Kittie: Oh thank fuck! Phil, are you busy right now?...Good. Look, I know this is a lot to ask, but I need your help right now...I know, Phil. I get that you two haven’t been on speaking terms lately, but he’s not doing too good right now...I’ve tried. I really have. But I don’t think I can do this shit by myself...Could you head over here and just help me try and get through to him?...Thanks, Phil. I owe you one...Alright, see you soon.

She lets out a sigh as she looks out by the pool. Rage is sitting on one of the large lounge chairs, working on his second beer now and he lets out another loud belch. Kittie shakes her head as she waits for Phil to get there.

She doesn’t wait too long, as within ten minutes, Phil’s car is pulling into the driveway. Kittie opens the door as Phil is walking up to the house. She has her left hand showing on the edge of the door, and when he walks inside, he spots the new wedding ring on her finger.

Phil: Did you two get married??

She nods.

Kittie: Yeah. While we were in New York. Look, we can talk about that later. We just need to get out there and talk to him.

Phil: Where is he?

She points towards the patio door and out by the pool.

Kittie: Sitting by the pool. Drunk.

Phil: Again?! Shit, why do I have to be the one to rescue him when he’s drunk?!

Kittie: This never used to be a problem, Phil. But something has changed recently. I’m not going to sit back and let him turn into some stumbling alcoholic and really ruin everything. He’s your brother. I know you’re mad at him, but he needs you. He needs us both. He has a match against James Tuscini in six days that I haven’t told him about yet and he’s not going to listen to me alone.

Phil sighs and shakes his head.

Phil: Alright. I’ll give it a shot, but you know as well as I do how stubborn he is. This might not work.

Kittie: We at least need to try.

Phil nods and makes his way towards the patio door, with Kittie right behind him. He slides open the door and steps out onto the deck. Rage is snoring loudly in the lounge chair, with a near empty beer bottle in his hand, ready to drop to the ground. Phil shakes his head as he walks up to the chair, and snatches the bottle out of his hand. Rage doesn’t move an inch as he keeps snoring away. Phil lightly kicks his leg.

Phil: Rage...

No answer. Kittie folds her arms and shakes her head and Phil kicks Rage again.

Phil: Rage...

Again nothing. Phil closes his eyes and lets out a sigh. When he opens his eyes, he leans down and smacks Rage hard across his head.

Phil: JAKE!

Rage bolts upright in the chair, looking around in a panic. He damn near falls out of the chair as Kittie and Phil stare at him with angry glares on their faces.

Rage: Huh?!

He looks towards Phil and Kittie and calms down, sinking back in the chair.

Rage: What are you doing here, Phil?

He closes his eyes prepared to fall back asleep, but Phil kicks his legs again, trying to keep him awake.

Phil: I’m here to help you, asshole. What the hell is going on with you lately?

Rage laughs as he looks up at Phil. Kittie remains quiet, hopeful that Phil can get through to his brother.

Rage: Nothing is going on, little bro. I’m just fine. Go back home to Maddie.

Phil: You’re NOT fine, Jake. You’re a mess. What the hell is going on?

Rage rolls his eyes and then turns his attention to Kittie.

Rage: You didn’t have to call him, Kittie. I’m fine. I just need time to figure shit out.

Kittie: Oh really? How much time exactly, because you’ve got a match coming up in six days and you’re still a mopey mess.

Rage arches an eyebrow.

Rage: A match? Against who?

Kittie bites her bottom lip, hesitant to tell him. He sits up quickly, staring at her impatiently.

Rage: Who the fuck am I facing, Kittie?!

Kittie: James Tuscini...

Rage starts laughing and shaking his head. Kittie and Phil briefly glance at one another before turning and staring back at Rage.

Phil: What is so funny?

Rage looks up at Phil.

Rage: You want to know what my problem is? You want to know what is so funny?!  THAT is fucking funny, Phil. That match is a fucking joke! I’m a fucking joke!

Kittie: Rage...

Kittie tries to get through to Rage but he shoots her a look that could kill.

Rage: Don’t, Kittie. Don’t even try and make me feel better about this shit, because it’s not gonna work. I go from being in the main event to facing a weird ass Italian dumbass like James Tuscini?!?! Fuck that shit.

Kittie goes to respond but Phil turns towards her, holding his hand up.

Phil: Kittie, do you mind giving me a few minutes to talk to him alone? I know you two are married now, but I’d like to talk to him alone for a second.

Kittie throws her hands up in the air.

Kittie: Fine by me. Maybe he’ll listen to you. Clearly he won’t listen to me and I’m his damn wife!

She turns and storms off back inside the house and Rage watches her. He has an almost remorseful look on his face and when he looks back up at his brother, Phil is glaring at him angrily. Rage lets out a laugh.

Rage: What the hell is your problem? You don’t have shit to be angry about.

Phil smacks Rage upside the head again.

Rage: What the fuck?! Stop that!

Phil: Maybe once you stop being such an asshole I will! Kittie is your wife, man! And you’re just going to sit here and act like this? Get over yourself!

Rage: I am over myself, Phil! I’m fucking over it all, because I don’t have shit anymore!

Rage flinches as Phil tries to smack him again, but Phil stops himself short this time.

Phil: What? So just because shit in SCW isn’t going so well right now, you think you don’t have shit? I think you’re pretty damn lucky to have a woman like Kittie putting up with you and your bullshit. So don’t say you don’t have shit, because you have her.

Rage: If she was smart she’d just go running. I’m an embarrassment to her anyway.

Phil laughs and rolls his eyes. He kicks the empty beer and other liquor bottles all around the chair as he continues to glare at Rage.

Phil: But she isn’t, so what does that tell you, huh? Seriously, Jake...

Rage: Would you stop calling me Jake?! Fuck!

Phil: No, I won’t. Because, regardless of this whole act you put on, Jake is who you are. And it’s who you always will be. Rage is just a God damned mask. A mask that you should just get rid of if you ask me, because it’s just going to destroy you sooner rather than later.

Rage laughs and shakes his head.

Rage: I wouldn’t be so sure about that one, Phil. It seems like Rage decided to go on a nice long vacation.

Phil: Not from where I’m standing he didn’t. Man, do you even know who the hell you are anymore?

Rage stares up at his brother, who quickly changes his demeanor. After a few moments, Rage lets out a sigh and shakes his head, lowering it as he looks to the ground and brings his hands up to his head.

Rage: I don’t know, Phil. I really fucking don’t. And now I’m just dragging Kittie right down with me.

Phil: No, you’re not. She’s here because she wants to be, but it seems like you’re trying to push her away. Which is pretty damn confusing considering you went and got married in New York.

Rage: Because I thought I could fucking make her proud, man. I thought I could actually defend the damn title and be a good champion for once. I’ve been wrong about so much shit lately.

Phil takes in a deep breath and pulls another chair up closer to Rage. He sits down so he’s eye level with Rage, and tries to be understanding with him.

Phil: Look, you need to think long and hard about what it is that you want and what you are doing. But, you can’t shut Kittie out. She believes in you, but because you’re going through a bit of a slump, you’re just ready to give up. She said you’re facing that Tuscini guy this week?

Rage nods and laughs again.

Rage: I guess so. Like I said, it’s a fucking joke.

Phil: Joke or not, don’t treat it like it is. If you want to continue with your career in wrestling, you need to just get serious about it again.

Rage: I’ve been serious about it Phil!

Phil shakes his head.

Phil: Not serious enough. You know what your biggest problem is?

Rage stares at him, slowly shaking his head even though he had a feeling he knew what Phil was about to say.

Phil: Your God damn temper. You’re letting it get the best of you.

Rage: Do I look like it’s getting the best of me, Phil?! I couldn’t even whip a fucking beer bottle against the wall last week no matter how pissed I got!

Phil: You’re letting it get the best of you because you think you need to do shit like that to get anywhere. You don’t! It’s dragging you down and fast.

Rage closes his eyes and keeps a grip on his head, growing more and more frustrated.

Rage: It’s who I’ve been for so fucking long, Phil. It’s who I fucking am!

Phil shakes his head.

Phil: It’s NOT who are you are, Jake. And it doesn’t have to be. I don’t know what it’s going to take for you to realize that, but you need to figure it out. You’re not a bad guy, but you have it in your head that you need to be for whatever reason. Just...get over it.

Phil pushes himself back to his feet and Rage looks up at him, almost sadly.

Rage: Where are you going?

Phil: I have a girlfriend to get back to and I have to work tonight. If you can’t get over this shit alone, Jake, at least let Kittie help you. She deserves that much.

Rage: I’m sorry, Phil...

Phil: Don’t apologize to me. You’re not doing anything to hurt me. You’re only hurting yourself...and Kittie. Just figure out who you are. Make your life and Kittie’s easier than this shit, because it’s not fair to either of you.

Rage lets out a sigh and just nods. Phil pats his brother on the shoulder before he turns and heads back inside the house. Rage stays out there for several minutes, thinking about everything his brother just said to him. He buries his head in his hands and kicks some of the empty bottles away from him in frustration.

---

So this is what it has come down to, huh? This is what I’m being reduced to? Mid card status facing guys like James Tuscini? Fucking ridiculous. Fucking pathetic, honestly. How could I let this happen?

I had it all! I was right where I wanted to be...where I should be! I worked my ass off for so fucking long and I finally made it back to the main event level and to the World Heavyweight Championship. I was the fucking champion, and now? I’m fucking nothing and facing James Tuscini!

Oh but James Tuscini isn’t someone to take lightly, right? He’s not completely worthless, right? He’s actually a pretty tough opponent because he held the Roulette Championship for how long? He’s made a pretty big impact in the year that he’s been here, so it shouldn’t be that big a deal facing him, right?

Fuck off with that shit! James Tuscini is worthless. James Tuscini is laughable at best, and being put up against him goes to show just what everyone thinks of me now, doesn’t it? Here Rage...here’s your punishment for losing the World Heavyweight Championship two times within a matter of a month. Face a member of the Blood Legion or whatever the fuck they’re calling themselves.

Let me tell you what facing James Tuscini is going to be like. Some people think I’m boring, but if you ask me, they need to sit and watch a James Tuscini promo because that shit...that is painful on so many fucking levels. Half the time I don’t even know what he’s saying, because I can’t even focus when I’m watching. Not that I’ve ever had a reason to watch, because I’ve never even faced the guy. Not that I can remember anyway.

What does that say, huh? I can’t even remember if I’ve ever faced him, meaning he ain’t that damn memorable to begin with. And I still can’t believe I have to face him as it is! I honestly have no fucking clue what I’m doing anymore. I don’t know if this shit is worth it, because if I’m just going to be degraded and facing guys like James Tuscini or hell, worse than him, what the fuck is the point anymore?

But Kittie and Phil think I should get it over with and just keep at it. Go into this match and not look at it as a joke or an embarrassment in any way. Right...like that is even possible. While I have to face James Tuscini, I have to sit back and watch Lord Raab and J2H fight over a title that should still be mine.

Or should it? I don’t even fucking know! All I know is that I wasn’t ready to give it up and walk away. My body isn’t ready to call it quits and find something else to do for a living, but everything else is telling me maybe it is. Maybe this match against James Tuscini should be my last?

Maybe...just maybe.

And if it is my last...I need to make the most of it go out on a high note. Go out with a fucking win, because there ain’t no way I’m going to let myself lose to some annoying Italian shithead.

I just can’t…

 Sunday April 16th
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
After Climax Control Went Off Air


I’m gonna kill him! Straight up gonna wrap my hands around his throat and choke the fucking life out of him! I don’t give a shit if it’ll break Melody’s heart or make me look like a big pile of shit, but that sonofabitch is going to pay for what he just did. I just have to fucking find him!

He hightailed it backstage pretty damn quick. I’ll give him that much. He ran like the coward that he is, because he knew I’d be more than pissed off at him getting involved where he shouldn’t have, and because of it, Jeremiah Hardin stole my damn title from me! I should be pissed off at myself, but fuck that shit. I’m directing my anger at the appropriate pieces of shit and once I’m dealing with J, I’ll handle Jeremiah Hardin and get my damn title back.

I didn’t even pay a single second of attention to Jeremiah Hardin celebrating in the ring after Jasmine handed him my title. I couldn’t focus on that shit, so I chased after J. I’ll admit, that’s where my damn size put me at a disadvantage because J is a quick little fucker so once I burst through the curtain and to the backstage area, he was nowhere in site. Everyone is staring at me. I’m sure half are still shocked at what just happened and me losing the title to Jeremiah Hardin, and the rest are probably wondering what the hell I’m doing.

“J!!!! YOU LOUSY SONOFABITCH! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?!?!” I clench my fists and shout at the top of my lungs. I feel my face going beat red as I look around, trying to see where J could be hiding. “James...Huntington...Hawkes...the third!!!! COME OUT AND FACE ME ASSHOLE!”

Figures he would be hiding like the damn coward that he is. People are still staring at me as I storm around the backstage area, tossing shit as I go. I don’t give a shit what I break in the process. I don’t give a fuck who I hurt in the process. It’s all collateral damage, because once I get my hands on J, it’ll all be worth it. FUCK why didn’t I see that shit coming?! J has been an even bigger pain in my ass the last few weeks than he was last year before I made the mistake of joining up with that bullshit J2Hism.

“Where the fuck is J2H?! Where did he go?!” I shout to anyone and everyone directly around me. Some shake their heads while others scurry off and run away like the pussies they are. “I know someone saw where he went! Answer me God damn it!”

But no one answers me. Seriously, it’ll be easier for everyone else if they just tell me where the fuck he is, because them protecting that piece of shit just makes them just as guilty in my eyes. They just refuse to tell me, and it pisses me off even more as I kick a large equipment box and it flies back into the wall.

I let out another roar. I really can’t fucking help it. I can’t remember a time where I’ve been this damn pissed off, and I take a steel chair, whipping it across the hall. It crashes against the wall, breaks into pieces and to my sheer fucking delight, takes a chunk out of the brick wall. I let myself grin for just a second and let out a quick chuckle but I have to get back to looking for J. I feel my knuckles go white as I’m beyond frustrated. As I stand where I’m at for a moment, it suddenly hits me.

“Fuck. I know where the little shit is!” I shout out loud as I look at my surroundings.

I storm off down the hall, searching for the right locker room, passing the Men’s and Bombshell’s locker rooms. Sharing a locker room with the other guys on the roster is beneath him and he doesn’t have his own locker room anymore since he’s not the World Champ anymore, so I know exactly where to find him. I finally stop just outside the door labeled “Melody Grace”, close my eyes and take in a deep breath. My eyes shoot open a few seconds later and I kick in the door.

When I burst into the locker room, expecting to find an unsuspecting J2H and Melody Grace, I instead find an empty locker room. Melody and J apparently got out of there pretty damn fast as their shit is already gone. Fucking figures. I let out a frustrated roar as I bend down, grab the bench just in front of me and toss it across the room. It crashes against a TV monitor, breaking it, but I don’t give a shit.

“AHHHHHH! SONOFABITCH! MOTHER FUCKER!!!” I can’t hold anything in. I start tossing shit around the locker room, demolishing every fucking thing in my way. “Fucking piece of shit coward!!!!”

I’m aware that people are passing by the locker room, some shrieking and in shock of what I’m doing, but let them. At this point if anyone tries to stop me from unleashing all this anger and rage I’ve got going on, they’re bound to get hurt. I continue kicking and throwing shit across the room and the sweat starts to pour down my head. I’m running out of breath, but I fight through it because I literally can’t stop myself. I can’t hold it all in. I bring my hands up to my head, wiping all the sweat from off the top of my head and when I spin around, letting out another angry growl, my eyes stop on Kittie as she’s standing in the doorway.

“What the FUCK are you doing?!” She yells at me, her jaw dropped as she looks around at the mess I’ve caused. “Do you realize how much all this is going to cost you in damages?!”

“I don’t fucking care!!!” I roar back, fuming. “He fucking cost me the title, Kittie! He stuck his nose where it didn’t belong and Jeremiah Hardin beat me! FUCKING JEREMIAH HARDIN!” Another roar and I grab another chair, whipping it across the room. Kittie ducks as it comes close to hitting her and I collapse down to the floor, rocking back and forth.

“Yeah no shit. I was watching the entire thing!” She screams. She steps around the broken chair and into the locker room, stopping just a few feet in front of me. “You got distracted and it--”

“DON’T PUT THIS SHIT ON ME!” I snap my head up and glare at her. “Even if J hadn’t come out there, Jeremiah was clearly on some shit because he was a lot fucking stronger than he was the last two fucking times I faced him! Fucking bullshit!” I kick at the broken pieces of...something...in front of me and I start breathing heavier. My heart and head are both pounding and I soon feel Kittie’s hands on my shoulders.

“Calm the fuck down, alright?” She says as calmly as she can. She runs her hands up my neck and grabs my face, forcing me to look at her. “Shit happens, but destroying a whole god damn building isn’t going to make matters any better. Mark and Christian could suspend you for this shit!”

I shake my head and swat her hands away. “I don’t fucking care, Kittie! I’m...I’m...I’m fucking furious right now!” I start rocking back and forth again, shaking my head. I don’t think I’ve ever acted this way in one of my fits, but my blood is boiling right now. I can feel it.

“No shit, Sherlock.” She snaps back, sitting on the floor next to me. I wish she would keep distance between the two of us, because I really don’t want to hurt her, but Kittie is nothing short of persistent and aggravating at times. “Look, it’s just a damn title, Rage. You can get it back. Same shit happened when you had the Internet title and faced Dmitri. Just...calm down and focus.”

I shake my head. “I can’t, Kittie. It may be just a fucking title, but that loss...that was fucking embarrassing! It was my first god damned defense after the controversy of how I won the damn thing in the first place! I’ll never be able to recover from that shit.”

She shakes her head and nudges me. “Oh quit the fucking woe is me bullshit, Rage.” She tells me. I look up at her with a frown. “Everyone knows that wasn’t the normal Jeremiah out there tonight. Even if J2H hadn’t gotten involved, he probably would have found a way to beat you.”

I snarl and push myself away from her. Did she seriously just say that shit to me?! It doesn’t matter. I don’t care what the fuck she just said. I don’t give a shit if Jeremiah was on something or possessed by a fucking demon of some sort. I had him beat until J walked out when he shouldn’t have.

“Don’t get all mad and try to deny it, Rage.” She says, scooting back closer to me and closing the space between us. “Everyone saw it. Everyone has been talking backstage about that shit. They saw something was off, and honestly if I were you, I’d go to Mark and Christian and demand Jeremiah be drug tested or something. They could just make that victory null and void and the title will come right back to you.”

I laugh and shake my head. Yeah, like that shit would actually happen anyway. “Fuck that, Kittie.” I say, taking in a deep breath. “It’d be pointless because my suspicions or anyone else saying the same shit wouldn’t be proof enough to them. I’d be wasting my time.”

“So then demand your rematch for next week!” She raises her voice and I look at her. “Get your damn title back and quit being this way.”

I close my eyes, bring my hands up and gripping the top of my head. I let out a sigh and shake my head again, feeling completely lost, but my blood is still boiling and I feel like exploding again at any second. “Fuck Jeremiah Hardin.” I snarl at her. “He’ll get what’s coming to him soon enough. No, I need to focus on getting my hands on J and breaking every fucking bone in his God damned body! Little bastard is going to regret this!”

Kittie takes in a deep breath and lets out a sigh, shaking her head. I know she’s just trying to help, but with the current mood I’m in, even angry sex with her wouldn’t be able to help like it normally does. I just want her to leave me the fuck alone, but she won’t.

“Rage, listen to me.” She speaks calmly, placing her hand on my arm. She squeezes it gently, which is weird even for her, but I’m doing my best not to explode and hurt her in the process. “This shit with J isn’t over yet. Everyone knows it, so it’s best if you just not focus on that shit and worry about going after Jeremiah again and getting your title back. Besides, I’m pretty damn sure J is going to stay hidden for the next week. Melody was waiting for him and they hightailed it out of here as soon as the show ended.”

I turn my head slowly and look at her. My eyes are narrowed and my nostrils are flared out. I clench my fists again until my knuckles are white and I furiously kick at the broken shit in front of me again, screaming at the top of my lungs. Kittie pushes herself up to her knees and brings her hands up to my shoulders as she starts massaging them, trying to calm me down.

“Breathe, Rage.” She says calmly. “I know you’re pissed off and I don’t blame you, but just...breathe. Relax. Calm the hell down.”

She continues massaging my shoulders and I let myself close my eyes and do as she says. I take in several slow deep breathes, unclenching my fists and letting the blood flow through my knuckles again. A few minutes later, Kittie stands up back to her feet and stares down at me. “Get up.”

I look up at her, confused. “What? Why?”

“Because I said so.” She bites back. “Just get the fuck up.” I roll my eyes and shake my head. I take in a deep breath before I push myself back up to my feet, towering over her once again.

“Look, let’s just get out of here, okay?” She runs her hand down my arm, shaking the sweat off her hand with a slightly disgusted look on her face. “Let’s go back to the hotel. You can take a shower and just relax for the night. Or...we can find a better way for you to let off some steam.”

And there it is. Her ulterior motive. I look down at her and she winks at me and I take in another deep breath, looking around the room at the mess I created. I’m actually quite proud of myself for it, but I’m pretty sure I won’t be getting my next paycheck because of it. I shrug and look back to her.

“Alright, fine.” I lie. The truth is, I’m not fucking fine, and I won’t be fine. “Why don’t you head back to my locker room and start getting our shit together. I’ll be there in a second.”

She looks confused as she folds her arms. “Why don’t you just come with me?”

“Just go to the locker room, Kittie.” I order her. “I’ll be right there. I just need a minute or two to myself to gather my thoughts, okay?!”

She stares at me for a moment, reluctant to do as I ask, but she shakes her head and shrugs, throwing her arms up in the air, defeated. “Fine.” She gives in. “But don’t go destroying anything else. Otherwise you’ll be without a paycheck for months.”

I can’t help but grin as she turns around and heads out of the locker room. Once she’s out of view and the coast is clear, I give in to the rage again. I crack my neck and feel my fists clenching again as I head over to the door. I look out, making sure she’s nowhere in sight, and snarl at a few people staring at me and the damage I caused. But I can’t take it anymore. I can’t take being in this building anymore so I turn to the left and storm off towards the exit. I don’t even bother taking any of my shit. I just want to get the hell out of here and out of Philadelphia.

---

I won’t lie. That loss hit me a lot fucking harder than any loss I’ve ever suffered so far in my career. It was embarrassing. It was maddening. It never should have fucking happened, and I’m not going to sit here and blame myself for shit that wasn’t my fault to begin with.

The first defense is always the most important. It was even more important for me because nobody was happy with me cashing in the King Of the Hill briefcase on Drake Green after he beat J2H at Blaze of Glory. I got a lot of flack for that shit, and I’ll probably get a lot of flack for the rest of my life, but as I’ve said in the past, I don’t give a shit. But...this match was my first chance at proving I deserve to be the damn champion. Sure it was just against Jeremiah Hardin, but unlike some people, I treat every opponent the same. I don’t slack off. I don’t hold back just because I’m facing a midcarder or rookie.

But from the start, I knew...I fucking knew something wasn’t right. I could feel that things weren’t going to go my way. I could feel that, even though I was giving it one hundred percent that night, that I would have to give just a little bit more if I wanted to keep my title. Even then it wouldn’t have been good enough, would it? Even then, like Kittie said, chances are Jeremiah still would have walked out as champ because the bitch had the strength of two or three guys.

It was one of those moments I just knew I couldn’t win. I didn’t want to accept it. Didn’t want to admit it, but it sure as shit was. I can normally deal with a loss no fucking problem. It’s not about wins or losses to me. It never has been. It’s about beating the shit out of my opponent and making a statement. And I was trying to do just that against Jeremiah Hardin.

And then J got involved.

I was on my way to trying to finish off Jeremiah...maybe prove myself wrong that he could be beaten that night...and then J’s music hit. I knew that Ward warned him not to lay a finger on me or Hardin in this match, because he knew J was up to something and that he would try something. But, FUCK, Ward should have just warned him not to get involved at all! Leave it to that spoiled little piece of shit to find a way around anything and do something to piss me off even more.

But that didn’t just piss me off. That didn’t just make me fuming angry.

It fucking HUMILIATED me. And that set off a side of me that I’m just not even used to. It set off a fury of emotions that right now...I just can’t fucking control no matter how hard I try. And believe me, I’ve fucking tried.

Every time I think I’ve finally calmed down and that my head is clear, a thought creeps into my head and sets it off all over again. I yell. I scream. I roar louder than a fucking bear for Christ’s sake. And I break shit. A lot of shit. Nothing seems to be helping me keep this rage under control, and honestly, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to get it under control again.

And that’s not a good thing. Not for me. Not for Kittie. Not for J2H, Drake Green or even Jeremiah Hardin. I’ve never experience this anger before so when I’m this uncontrollable to the point I’ll flat out admit it...well, anything can happen.

Shit can and will get broken. People can and will get hurt. Careers can and WILL be ended. And you know what? I...don’t...fucking...care!

But I guess I have to deal with all of that next week in DC, won’t I? I’ll get my chance to confront J at Climax Control. Maybe even Drake Green and probably even Jeremiah Hardin. As for right now...there’s a few other people that I need to confront because all of this shit just set off a completely different set of emotions. Emotions that I need to confront. And there is only one place that I can confront those emotions...those feelings…

Back in Las Vegas…

---

Monday April 17th
Las Vegas
**OFF CAMERA**

It’s been weeks since I’ve been back to my house. When SCW is touring, I really don’t find much of a damn reason to travel back and forth like most people do. The travelling gets to be too much and it makes no sense to go to one place, stay for a day or two and then have to head to the next city. I don’t know about anyone else, but I don’t do well on living on little to no sleep. It makes me that much harder to deal with. As if it matters right now considering how fucking unstable I’ve been the last twenty-four hours.

The flight back home I was stuck being seated in front of some annoying little kid, constantly kicking the back of my seat. I tried to ignore it. I really fucking did, but that little shithead just wouldn’t stop! So I turned around, glared at the little bastard without saying a single word. I think I scared the little shit pretty good, because he went stark rigid in his seat, gripped the armrests and stared at me with a panicked look in his eyes. His skanky mother was seated next to him, staring out the window not paying attention, so I didn’t have to deal with her bitching to me, thankfully.

After leaving the airport I hailed a cab to take my back to my place. Traffic took a little longer than I expected, or wanted it to and once the driver pulled into my driveway, I tossed a few bills at him and quickly went up to my front door. I unlocked the door and stepped inside as the cab disappeared back down my driveway and away from my house.

Normally I’m used to walking into a quiet empty house, but I really could have used Aggie to greet me at the door right about now. I don’t even know how she’s doing, considering Phil took her out of here and to Synn’s when she got sick. I could have fucking took care of her, but whatever. She clearly preferred him over me anyway.

I’m only here for one reason. I’m not here to sulk. I’m not here to wallow in self pity or some shit like other people do. No. There’s a room downstairs I need to spend a little time in right now and that’s exactly where I’m headed.

I storm my way downstairs, flipping the switch at the bottom of the stairs so there is light. I’m half tempted to just bypass my whole original plan and go to the workout room, but I quickly shrug off that thought saying fuck it and walking to the room just next to it.

My “trophy” room.

All athletes have one, right? I personally didn’t want one, but not only did Kittie bug me into getting one, Despayre thought I should have one, too. I don’t know how the fuck I always let them talk me into doing shit I didn’t want to do, but I guess it doesn’t matter now, does it? The only one who will be bugging me from now on is Kittie anyway, and in the end, I rarely listen to her so whatever.

I turn the knob and push the door open, standing in the doorway. I close my eyes, preparing myself because I know as soon as I turn on the light, I’m going to lose it. I’m going to lose my shit and go apeshit, without anyone here to stop me.

“Don’t fucking do it, Rage.” I say out loud, surprising myself. I rarely try to talk myself out of doing something, but destroying more shit in my house might not be the best idea. “Turn the fuck around and just..leave.”

I reach inside the room and to the right, putting my hand on the lightswitch. I don’t turn it on right away as I keep my eyes closed and keep my hand on the lightswitch. I stand there for a long while, almost unable to move, but then that dark voice deep inside me whispers to me. My eyes shoot open as I flip the switch and turn the light on, gazing around the room.

“Fuck it.” I step inside, my eyes darting around the room at all the reminders of my accomplishments in my career from GXW and now SCW. It might not be as many accomplishments as others, but it’s enough to at least be slightly proud anyway.

I feel myself start to shake as I stand in the center of the room, turning around and just looking at everything. My blood starts boiling almost immediately and I shake my head, quickly losing my grip on reality. When I lift my head again, I can’t keep it in any longer and I let out a loud growl before I rush over to one of the trophy cases containing my very first SCW Tag Team championship belt...the one I won and held with that dipshit Jamie Staggs.

I swing my leg forward with one forceful kick, breaking the glass, but I don’t stop there. I keep kicking at it until it’s completely shattered, then reach down, picking up a piece of the metal edge, spin around and whip it across the room. It shatters against another another trophy case, this one holding the very first SCW Heavyweight Championship I held. The one that I defeated Nick Jones for. I don’t give a shit.

I move to the last case holding the second tag team championship that I held with Despayre and repeat the process, destroying that one as well, but I keep going. Pictures, awards...anything and everything that reminds me of my entire wrestling career I pull down off the walls and slam then down on to the floor, demolishing them. This whole room can piss right off. But as I stand over the mess I’ve created, and my ruined reminders of my achievements, I feel a burning desire to just set everything on fire.

It’s the only way…

“No...No!” I shout, shaking my head and trying to hold myself back.

“Do it, Rage. You know you want to.” The dangerous voice says inside of me. “Better yet. Call Electra. She’ll have no problem doing it for you.” And the damn voice then laughs! It fucking LAUGHS at me!

“NO! I WON’T DO IT!” I shout back, even though I’m clearly having a psychotic break and just shouting to myself. I grip my head, nearly convulsing from the anger. “I...I can’t do it!”

I storm out of the room. I can’t be here anymore. The longer I stay in this mess, the more likely I am to just set my entire house on fire and then I’ll really be screwed. And not only that, but Kittie will be screwed as well, but at least in her case, she’d be allowed to crash at Synn’s for a while.

Synn’s…

Shit...I really need to try and sort shit out with Synn and the other’s. But I’ll need a little liquid courage before I deal with that shit storm.

---

I don’t know how I did it. I don’t know how I managed to stop myself before I walked out of the room, went and got some lighter fluid and a lighter and just set that bitch on fire. I wanted to do it. Hell, a part of me still does. I never wanted that house. I never needed a house that big, but Despayre thought it was my style when he was helping me pick out houses and he got me a good deal so…

DAMN IT! Everything leads back to that shit, doesn’t it?! Every fucking thing reminds me of what a big fuck up I am. Everything! I should have just set the damn thing on fire and burned the bitch to the ground and disappeared, because it would have made some people’s lives a hell of a lot easier.

But, that didn’t happen, did it? No, I was able to fight through the urges and leave before I made yet another huge mistake. I don’t know how, but I’m not ready to find out, because chances are if I go back to the house right now, I’ll be tempted all over again. But, I went from almost making a huge fucking mistake, to making a stupid fucking mistake.

Before I get into the details, let me just point out that I don’t usually drink hard liquor. I’m more of a beer kinda guy. It’s simple and it’s what I know. Anything else and shit gets fucked up. I get fucked up. So of course knowing that shit, my first thought was to go to the nearest liquor store, buy the biggest bottle of whiskey I could find and start downing the entire bottle. Well…almost the entire bottle.

It probably wasn’t the wisest decision I could make. But it was a decision I made anyway. I needed to talk to Phil. I need to talk to Despayre...to Synn...to everyone. If they were even there. I need to see them and speak to them face to face.

Turning up shitfaced drunk probably wasn’t the best way to do that, though…

---

Later that day…
Synn’s Home
Las Vegas, Nevada
**OFF CAMERA**

Damn. I really need to drink this whiskey shit more often. It’s pretty damn good. Goes down smooth. Not exactly doing the best job at masking my problems, but fuck it. I’ll still drink it.

I called a cab for the second time today. I don’t know why, because I fucking hate paying the cab drivers their ridiculous fare to drive me around Vegas, and I have a perfectly good car, but it was probably a smart decision considering I just got my license back not the long ago and I don’t need to go wrecking another car and getting in even deeper shit for driving drunk.

“You can’t drink that shit in here.” The cab driver had warned me once I opened the bottle and started downing the contents.

I took a few giant gulps and then glared at him from the backseat. “Just shut the fuck up and drive.” I say, taking out more cash from my pocket. “Extra trip for ya if ya keep your mouth shut and just drive.” He was reluctant to listen to me, but the big wad of cash in my hand was too tempting to pass up so he put the car in drive and started heading the distance to Synn’s place.

Once he made it to Synn’s neighborhood, I had him stop at the end of the driveway and just drop me off there, as I didn’t want anyone to see the cab pull up closer to the front of the large mansion. I paid him his money, plus the large tip, exited the car with my booze in hand and he drove off. I stood at the edge of the driveway for a long while, drinking the whiskey while I thought about what I was doing. Phil’s car isn’t in the driveway, so either he doesn’t live here anymore or he’s just not home.

“Fantastic.” I think, taking another big swig of the whiskey. The whole bottle is nearly gone by this time, and I’m trying to build the courage to just walk up to the door and get this shit over with.

It takes me awhile to do that, though. Longer than I thought it would. I don’t even know how long either, as after about half an hour, I think, the whiskey started to kick in and the earth started spinning. I closed my eyes and shook my head, trying to fight through it but as soon as I open my eyes again, everything is spinning again. More than before, actually.

“Nooope. Didn’t work.” I say outloud, surprising myself. I take in a deep breath and start walking the steps up to Synn’s front door, nearly losing my footing a couple times. “Fuuuck. I forgot how to...walk.” A giant unexpected hiccup escapes from my lungs and I can’t help but chuckle as I continue stumbling up to the door.

As I get closer to the door, I see the curtain to one of the windows move, so I know someone is home. It was probably Despy looking out to see who was here, and I’m not paying attention to where I am walking. My foot hits the bottom step and I trip forward towards the door but I catch myself and walk up the few steps and stop right in front of the door. Do I knock? Do I ring the doorbell?

“Doorbell!” I say outloud, feeling a grin appear on my face.

I put my finger on the doorbell and push it, hearing the sound on the inside of the house. I chuckle as I ring the doorbell again and again and again, finding it amusing, but I don’t even know why. Fucking doorbells. I hate them. But...this ain’t my house, so I’ll just…

“Despy!” I actually feel myself smiling but that fades pretty damn quick because as soon as Despy sees me, he starts to close the door.

“Oh come on Despy,” I think I say as I place my hand inside the door, but I could be slurring my words because I’m fucking trashed. “You and I both know you won’t--”

*SLAM*

“SONOFA!!!” He did it. Little bugger ACTUALLY slammed the door ON my fucking hand! I hear him yell “Rage is here!” to Synn from inside the house as I stumble around and then collapse down to my ass, holding my hand in pain.

“Fucking hell I think he broke my hand!” I let out another growl as I stay seated where I fell and shake my hand, trying to get feeling back into it. It only causes another jolt of throbbing pain to shoot right through it, but I fight through it. I’m not some pussy bitch that whines about something as little as a paper cut. But...I’m also drunk so that adds to it too.

I wait for Synn to open the door and step out and approach me, but he doesn’t. He obviously wants nothing to do with me, but that’s not gonna stop me from waiting. I sit and wait for what seems like hours and just when I’m about to stand up and pound on the door again, a car pulls into the driveway.

“Oh fuck,” I say, shaking my head. “He called the--” I squint my eyes to get a closer look at the car and finally realize once the driver gets out that it’s Phil. My younger, and much more good looking than I am, brother.

“Phil! Heyyyy brosef!” The fuck did I just say? I laugh as I can’t even comprehend my words any longer and I struggle to get back to my feet.

Phil shakes his head as he walks up to me, stopping just a few feet away. “Jake, what the hell are you doing here?” He folds his arms and asks me. I stand up and stare at him, confused.

“Jake? Who the fuck is Jake?” I ask, scratching my head. A moment later I remember and I snap my fingers. “Ooooh, right. I’m Jake. Or I was. I don’t know!” I stumble back down the steps, nearly falling forward but Phil is able to somehow catch me.

“You’re fucking plastered right now!” He growls as I stand up straight, but wobbly as shit.

I smile and nod proudly. “You fucking bet I am!” I chuckle. “Ya know I don’t even know why I hadn’t drank whiskey more often before today. I’m feeling pretty damn good right about now.”

He shakes his head as he stares at me with an annoyed expression on his face. “Except for your hand.” He says and I’m reminded of the throbbing pain in my hand again.

“Fuck!” I shout, bringing my hand up to stare at it. “He slammed the door on my hand, Phil! Despy! Despy did it!”

Phil laughs and nods. “Yeah I know.  Synn called me. He was tempted to call the police but I told him I would handle it.”

I snarl and turn around, looking to one of the front windows. I spot Despy for a quick second just before the curtain moves and he disappears. I wave my hand and turn back around to face Phil.

“I ain’t doin’ nothin’ Phil! I just wanna talk to the guy!” I shout, not even realizing just how loud until he sighs and shakes his head.

“And he doesn’t want to talk to you, Jake.” He replies. “Just...give up, alright? He’s not going to forgive you. You’re not going to be welcome back here. Leave them be for Christ’s sake!”

I roll my eyes, unable to control my actions thanks to the large amount of alcohol in my system turning my the filter in my brain off. Any thoughts that run through my head, I immediately put to action and this includes dropping down to the ground right there and sitting down, burying my head in my hands.

“Fuck! I went and fucked up my life big time, Phil.” I say out loud, vaguely aware of my eyes starting to water. The fuck is that shit?! “I went and joined up with that little piss...piss...MOTHER FUCKER...and look where it got me? And now I lost my damn title to Jeremy Hard-On!”

Phil raises his eyebrow and lets out a laugh. “You mean Jeremiah Hardin?” He asks.

“Whatever! I was close enough!” I shout at him. “Fucking worthless cocksucking fool has my title!”

Phil laughs at me again. “Karma is a bitch, isn’t it bro?”

I snarl at him. “Hey fuck you, bro! I don’t give a rat’s dick what I did, I didn’t deserve to lose to that asshole! You can hate me all ya want, but I’m fucking humiliated, Phil! And the people who were supposed to be my family don’t give a shit!”

“I don’t hate you, bro.” He replies and to my surprise he sits down on the ground right next to me. “But I think you need to open your eyes a bit and see just why all of this shit is happening.”

“Because I was a dumbass and betrayed the only family I’ve ever known?” I respond quickly as I turn and look at him. Fuck, all this emotional feelings bullshit is not something I’m familiar with. I don’t like it.

He shakes his head and says, “Well, that’s part of it, but look at the bigger picture. When’s the last time you really did anything independently? For or by yourself?”

I scratch my head and lead out a snort. “Fuck if I know. Synn always handled shit. Or Kittie. Shit. If I didn’t have Kittie right now I’d really be fucked. And not in the good and pleasurable way, obviously.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “So maybe all of this happened for that reason. Think of it as a wake up call like I got two years ago when you and Synn helped me get out of Boston. Just..less suicidal.” He manages to crack a smile and laugh at that last but I don’t.

“That shit ain’t funny, Phil.” I snap at him. “Don’t be joking about you trying to fucking kill yourself.”

“Why not? I’ve moved on and healed from it. I’ve got Maddie now and I’m in a much better place.” He says. “And I’ve got you and Synn to thank for that, too.”

“You still living here?” I quickly ask, wiping that wet shit coming from my eyes.

He shakes his head and says, “No. Maddie and I finally got our own place. But this isn’t about me or Maddie. This is about you.”

I take in a deep breath, lift my head and look towards his car. I can’t even sort out all the shit running through my head. “I don’t know, Phil.” I say, shaking my head and letting out a sigh. “Shit just got way too complicated too fucking quick. I can’t control anything right now. You could just breathe wrong and I’ll fucking snap.”

“You don’t like change. That’s your problem.” He replies and elbows me lightly on my arm. “You just need to be open to change for damn once.” He then pushes himself back to his feet and looks down at me.

“Fuck change.” I growl. And I meant it.

“Look I can’t figure things out for you, bro.” He says, throwing his hands in the air. “You gotta do that for yourself. But what I do need to do is get you the hell off of Synn’s property before he does call the cops. Now stand up.”

“Let him call the fucking cops!” I shout, refusing to stand up but I’m not entirely sure why. “He’s being a stubborn pig-headed asshole, and all I want to do is talk!” Not really, I don’t. Not anymore. So why the fuck did I just say that? Stupid whiskey talking!

Phil lets out a frustrated sigh and with little warning, he smacks the back of my head. “Dude, get the fuck up. Quit acting like a five year old throwing a damn tantrum and get up so I can take you home.”

“Uh, OW!” I say, rubbing the back of my head. “Don’t boss me around, Phil! I’m bigger than you!”

He rolls his eyes. “Jesus Christ! How damn old are you?!”

“Almost thirty-eight..” I respond quickly. Fuck! I just admitted my age out loud!

He smacks me on the back of my head again. “Then start acting like it! Do you WANT Synn to call the cops and get your ass thrown in jail? Because I’m not bailing you out and I’m pretty sure Kittie will be pissed if--”

Before he can even finish that sentence I quickly push myself back to my feet, nearly falling back on my ass in the process but I manage to save myself. The earth starts spinning again and I almost feel like the whiskey is going to make its way back up from my stomach but I just let out a loud belch right in Phil’s face. He waves his hand in front of his face and I let out a laugh.

“Hahaha, sorry bro.” I say, looking around.

“Yeah, whatever.” He replies back. “I’ve never seen you move that fast. Kittie must scare the shit out of you.” He says with a laugh.

“You HAVE met Kittie, right?” I ask back.

He laughs and nods. “Yeah I have and you’re lucky as hell to have her. Don’t fuck it up because she does love you. You love her right?”

I nod quickly. “Yeah I do! Would I have asked her to marry me if I didn’t?!” Damn I’m just spilling all sorts of touch feel bullshit. Now I know why I stay away from the hard liquor.

“I don’t know. I’ve never actually heard you say the words so..” He shrugs. “Look, it doesn’t matter right now, ok? Let’s just get you back home so you can sleep this shit off and get back to being the selfish angry asshole that you normally are.”

He pats me on the back and although it wasn’t that hard I nearly lose my footing. “Thanks, Phil. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry I’m such an asshole. I guess I’m more like our piece of shit father than I thought.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “You might think so, but you’re not. Just shut up and let’s get out of here. And no getting sick in my car either! I just had it detailed!”

“I know how to hold my liquor!” I say as another belch escapes from my gut. “I won’t ruin your precious car.”

“Good because if you do, you’re cleaning it up.” He responds as we start walking to his car, slowly.

The earth is spinning too much for my liking but he lets me take my time as I take the several steps towards his car. I’m pretty sure I’ll end up passing out in a few minutes, but maybe not. I’m too intoxicated to give a shit and I let him lead the way the entire time. I just hope that Kittie doesn’t hear about this. Then again maybe she should hear about it because she’ll be pissed. And when she’s pissed that leads to one thing.

Some damn good angry sex!

---

 OOC: Apologies for the crappy RP this week.  Major writer’s block as far as CD scenes goes, and also had very little motivation to get much written.  This doesn’t happen often, and I didn’t want to just no-show either.

---

No matter how hard some people try to paint themselves to be the good guys, or the man of the people bullshit, deep down, you just know who they really are. Drake Green is one of those people. Drake Green is like a fucking cancer to SCW. Just when we’re finally rid of that disease, it rears its ugly head again and we have to deal with it all over again. Yeah, I just likened Drake Green to cancer. Don’t like it? Fuck you, I don’t care.

Drake Green is hands down, the biggest attention seeking jackass I’ve ever come across. Maybe that’s why him and his whore wife make the perfect pair, because they both beg for attention any chance they can. He feeds off of the attention he gets from the fans and acts like he gives a shit, and the fans are blinded by the bullshit to see that he really doesn’t give a shit. He just likes being in the spotlight, yet how many times has he “retired”? How many times has he given up this career he claims he loves so much, only to come swooping back in eventually, attacking the current champ and trying to snake his way back into the title picture? Sounds familiar doesn’t it? It should because it’s exactly what he’s done right now.

Isn’t that right, Drakey boy? Just when the fans had forgotten you and stopped giving a shit about the name Drake Green, you came running back into the ring and attacked J2H from behind, and what was your reasoning for it? Oh, right, because he was supposedly running his mouth so you had to shut him up. You really think that anybody believes that shit? I sure as shit don’t, but if that is the excuse you want to go with, go right ahead. It doesn’t make you look any better.

I already know what you’re going to say about me, Drakey boy, if anything really. You’re probably going to run your mouth and say a few words, but saying you don’t want to waste words on someone as “boring” as me, because that’s the only shit you think you have against me. Face it, Drake, you’re “insults” are just as old and washed up as you, so maybe you shouldn’t try. Either way, it doesn’t change what I’m going to do to you in that ring come Sunday night.

We’ve faced off in the past, Drake. I know you remember, and I know you’re going to try and use that little ego boost of a victory you hold over me from before and try and hold it against me now. Go ahead and try, but you’re not going to get the same outcome as you did before, because I’m not the same Rage as I was back then, and even if you try to deny it, you know it’s true. I don’t have the Sins holding me back like I did back then, and I’ve got the ways of J2Hism in my corner. What do you have, Drake? I’ll give you some time to think about it, but we all know the answer.

Nothing, Drake. You don’t have a God damned thing anymore, except your boring marriage to that dumbass blonde wife of yours. Why don’t you just go knock her up already so you can be the family man that she wants you to be, because that’s all you’ll ever be good for anymore, Drake. You’re wrestling career is over, and you know it. As much as you THINK you’re going to take that title from J2H, there’s not a chance in hell that will happen, because he’s been defending that title for the past year while you’ve been off drinking away your boring life as you fade into obscurity. Funny how the tides have turned, eh Drake? You used to call me boring all the fucking time, but that’s what you’re life has turned into, hasn’t it.

If there’s one thing you should be thankful for, Drake, it’s that I’m not going to be able to do all the damage I really wish I could do to you on Sunday. I can’t, because if I were to do everything I wanted, there wouldn’t be anything left for J2H at Blaze of Glory. And he still has a lot more revenge to unleash on you, asshole. You’re gonna wish you hadn’t attacked J2H at Inception, because it’s going to come back at you a million times worse.

Two days, Drake.  You’ve got two days to shake off that ring rust before you step into the ring against me. You might think you’re going to pin my shoulders to the mat, or somehow make me tap out, but I guarantee you, that shit ain’t gonna happen. You’ve got a world of hurt coming for you, Drake. Once J2H and I are through with you, there will be nothing left of Drake Green.

The devil is out for your blood, Drake. And he won’t stop until he gets it…

 January 2nd, 2016
A New Year...New Rage?

2016 wasn’t exactly the year that Rage had envisioned for himself.  There were more lows than highs unfortunately, even though he was a two time Internet Champion and even found himself getting engaged to his then fellow Seven Deadly Sins member, Kittie.  He tried to end out his year a little early and on a bright note by shocking everyone by turning his back on the Seven Deadly Sins and joining the World Heavyweight Champion, J2H, and following J2Hism.  He had hoped it would be a smart decision, and in the beginning, he thought it was.  But now?  Now he was beginning to doubt himself.

He wasn’t booked for the first show of 2017, and he had no real reason to be at the show.  So he didn’t go.  He chose to stay home, brooding as SCW rang in the new year with their first show of the year.  The only light in the room is coming from his laptop as he watches the show, and as the light shines on his face, he snarls after what he just watched on the show.  He slams his laptop shut and tosses it on the edge of the bed.  He brings his large legs over the edge of the bed and touches his feet to the floor as he grabs his phone off the night stand and turns on light.

Rage: Son of a bitch better answer his damn phone...

Rage goes through his contacts and finds J2H’s number, and instead of just calling him, decides to make a FaceTime call with the World Heavyweight Champion.  He knew J wasn’t at the show.  He knew he was of celebrating the new year on some tropical beach, but that’s not what was bugging Rage.  No.  Rage didn’t care where J was, because as the champion, J2H could do whatever the hell he wanted.  Something else was bugging him big time, and he was going to give the champion a piece of his mind.  As long as he answered the call.  Which he did just then.

J2H: You better have a good reason for interrupting my vacation, big man.

J’s face appears on Rage’s phone and Rage narrows his eyes, snarling at the champion.

J2H: Not that your current facial expression is different than any other day, but what’s pissing ya off at the moment?  What’s got ya so pissed off you just had to call me while I’m enjoying this tropical weather while you’re back in that shithole known as Las Vegas?

J smirks and Rage squeezes his phone a little bit.

Rage: Did I make a mistake in trusting you, J?  Huh?  Did I?  Did I make a huge fucking mistake in following this J2Hism shit, believing shit would turn around for me?

J2H: Whoa, whoa, whoa.  Calm the fuck down, man.  What the hell are you talking about?  J2Hism isn’t a mistake, Rage.  In just over two months, you’ve made more of a statement than you did in how many years with the Seven Deadly Sins?  Trust me, you didn’t make a mistake.

Rage laughs and shakes his head.

Rage: Really?  Then tell me why the fuck that blonde bimbo becoming a follower is such a bigger fucking deal.  I’m not gonna have Drake Green’s whore wife outshining me, J.  It ain’t gonna happen, and this makes--

J2H: Hold up, Rage.  Calm down for a second, alright?

J leans forward, still sitting in the sand overlooking the sea.  Rage is breathing heavily, growing more frustrated by the second, but he stops speaking, letting J speak.

J2H: Neither one of you are going to outshine the other, Rage.  She’s a bombshell, and you clearly aren’t.  She just made a smart decision like you did.  That’s all this is.

Rage laughs again.

Rage: Bullshit.  Mikah becoming a follower of J2Hism makes zero fucking sense, J.  She doesn’t need this shit, and everyone knows it.  She’s fucking married to Drake Green.  She holds the record of being the longest reigning World Bombshell Champion.  What the fuck does she need J2Hism for?!

J smirks and shakes his head.

J2H: Same reason you do, big man.  Just because she held the World Bombshell Championship for nine months, doesn’t mean anything right now.  She lost the title almost a year ago, and since then she’s had a rough year.  And being married to Drake Green ain’t shit for her to brag about.  Drake actually needs to brag about being married to her.

Rage: It still makes no fucking sense to me, J.  Bombshell or not, she’s still going to outshine me and I’m not gonna fucking deal with that, man.  This shit ain’t going how I thought it would.  I mean, look at what happened with JT Midas joining the same fucking time?  Look how long that fucking lasted?

J laughs.  

J2H: Look, I’ll admit that was a mistake, but you and Mikah?  That’s not a mistake, man.  If there is a reason that Mikah may have outshined you tonight--

Rage glares and snarls into the camera but J just gives him a look and Rage takes in a deep breath.

J2H: Let me finish.  Mikah may have outshine you tonight, but that was because she was actually at the damn show to make a statement, and she did.  Hell, I’m not even in Vegas and I made a fucking statement.  What the hell did you do?  You stayed at home doing jack shit and that’s why people are going to forget that you’re even a part of the J2Hism picture.  You can’t do that shit.

Rage: Why the fuck should I be there when I have fuck all going on, and neither do you?  Hell, there isn’t even anyone running their mouth claiming they’re going to take that title from you for me to beat the shit out of right now.  Mark and Christian aren’t giving me a fucking thing to do.

J shakes his head and lets out a sigh.  

J2H: Do me a favor.  Use your brain for a second and think back to when you finally came to your senses and really listened to what I was saying.  Can you do that?

Rage: What the hell does that have to do with anything?!

J2H: Just fucking do it, alright?

Rage sighs again and shakes his head.  He closes his eyes for a second and thinks back to the moment, just a few short months ago, when J2H managed to open his eyes…

---

**FLASHBACK**
Several Months Ago

Rage has been a lot moodier than normal as of late, and instead of leaving the show with the rest of the Seven Deadly Sins, he decides to stick around for a while and then head back by himself.  They all ultimately agreed, and once the big man was ready to leave the arena, he grabs his bag and heads out of the locker room.  He thinks he’s the last one at the show..at the arena even, but once he steps outside and through the door, he realizes he’s wrong.

A large crowd has gathered out in the parking lot, and almost hundreds of fans are swarming around someone.  As Rage gets a closer look, he realizes that World Heavyweight Champion, J2H, is the cause for this uproar.  Love him or hate him, he still draws attention from the fans, and this only causes Rage to roll his eyes.  He stands back for a few moments and watches as J2H signs autographs, playing the good role of champion as he should, though Rage knows that underneath it all, J2H doesn’t give a crap about the fans.  Rage lets out a low growl and starts walking towards his car, almost trying to sneak away.  Not that he has to, because not a single fan turns and looks towards him.  But J2H does.  Just as he signs the last autograph, in fact.

J2H: Why are you trying to be all sneaky, huh?  It’s not like these people would actually run from me to give you any attention.

Rage stops walking for a moment and closes his eyes.  He does his best to ignore J2H but J sees him clenching his fists at his side as he walks over to him.

J2H: What’s the matter?  Can’t handle the truth?  Isn’t this proof enough?  None of those people even bothered to come running up to you, begging you for your autograph or a picture.  Face it.  You’re washed up and you put them all to sleep.

J2H has a smug grin on his face and Rage turns and glares at him.  He wants nothing more than to knock a few of J’s teeth down his throat, but he holds himself back again.

Rage: Maybe they didn’t because they know I don’t give a shit about the attention.  I’m not wasting my time signing autographs or posing for stupid fucking pictures with those people.  That’s not why I’m here.  So just shut your fucking mouth and go back to pretending to give a shit about them, too.  You and I both know you don’t.

J2H laughs and shakes his head.

J2H: Look at you.  Such a waste.  You’re all bark and no bite these days.  You think I don’t know you, Rage.  But I do.  I know why you career is where it is.  I know why you’re not scary anymore.  I know--

Rage: You don’t know shit, J.  So quit acting like you do before I beat your ass all over this parking lot right here, right now.

J2H laughs again.

J2H: You won’t do it.  You and I both know it.  No one takes you seriously anymore, and I know the reason why.  But go ahead and keep being who are you, big man.  Because it’s gotten you soooooo far, hasn’t it?

J2H shakes his head and goes to walk away without another word.  Clenching his fist again, Rage calls J2H back to him.

Rage: Oh really?  Enlighten me then.  If you’re such a fucking know it all in this case, go ahead and say it.  Why doesn’t anyone take me seriously, champ?

With his back still facing Rage, J2H smirks.  He turns back around to face him, and keeps the smirk on his face.

J2H: The Seven Deadly Sins...

Rage’s eyes widen but he lets out a laugh and shakes his head.

Rage: You’re fucking joking, right?  They’re the whole fucking reason I’ve accomplished what I have so far in my damn career!  They’ve supported me and guided me in everything I’ve ever done.  That’s not holding me back.  Nice try, though.

Rage laughs again as J2H walks back towards him, laughing as well.  Rage quiets down as J2H gets just a few inches away from him.

J2H: And you’re fucking stupid for believing that.  When is the last time you held this title?

J holds up the World Heavyweight Championship.

J2H: Been a while, hasn’t it?  And even then, how long was that reign of yours, huh?  Not very long.  You might have done what not many could have back then and beaten Nick Jones but he took the title right back just a few weeks later, so some win that was.  Face it, Rage.  You’re stale.  You claim to be the **air quotes** Sin of Wrath but that’s nothing to brag about these days, is it?  You’re barely even worth the lower tier titles anymore.  But...

Rage is glaring furiously at J2H, but his eyes return to their normal state as J stops speaking for a moment.

Rage: But?  But what??

J2H: There just might be hope for ya, big man.  IF you can find your balls and walk away from the Seven Deadly Sins.  The Seven Deadly Sins are the past, man.  But the present...the future?  It’s all about J2Hism.  Deep down you know what I’m saying is the truth, Rage.  As long as you allow Synn and the rest of the Sins to keep you on a ball and chain like they do, no one will take you seriously.  Think about it...

J2H lightly pats Rage on the arm and walks away.  Rage stands frozen in place.  His face is just...blank.  His fists are clenched at his side still, but a few moments later, when it looks like Rage is going to completely explode, the tension just drains from him.  He turns and walks back to his car, tossing his bag into the back seat.  He then gets into the driver’s seat but before he starts the engine, he takes his phone out of his pocket.  He stares at it for a few moments, quietly thinking to himself, debating what he is about to do.  He finally takes in a deep breath and dials a number…

---

**Back to the Present**

J2H: Didn’t take you very long to realize what I was saying was right, did it?

Rage quickly shakes his head, snapping out of his momentary daze as he remembers how it all started.  He looks back down at J2H on his phone screen and shakes his head.

Rage: Maybe not, but I’m getting fucking tired of shit in SCW right now, J.  There ain’t shit for me to do, and even when I try to tell people I’m gonna make a statement, they don’t fucking care.  They just ignore it and pay attention to other shit.

J2H: So make them pay attention.  We’ll find you something to do, big man.  You can make a big impact...a big statement.  Just stop standing back waiting for someone to piss you off.  Just...fucking let loose, man.  You want people to fear you?

Rage glares at J and nods.

Rage: They’d be fucking stupid not to, and you know it.

J2H: So show them why.  You want to call yourself the devil of SCW?  Well let that damn devil out of his cage and give those people something to fear.  You don’t need a reason to cause some pain, so quit acting like it.  Don’t fucking hold back anymore.

Rage: And what about this Mikah shit, huh?  What if I still don’t like it?

J shakes his head and laughs.

J2H: Don’t worry about Mikah.  She’s gonna do her thing, and you do yours.  What she does will have no effect on you at all, so just don’t worry about it.  Understand?  Or do I have to waste more time from my vacation trying to explain it to you?

Rage: I fucking get it, alright.  I’m just running out of patience with shit.

J2H: Like I said...let that devil out of his cage, big man.  The Seven Deadly Sins aren’t holding you back anymore.  I’m not holding you back.  You want to make a statement?  Go out there next week and just fucking do it.  Look, we’ll talk about this more next week.  Think about it, alright?  Brood in your anger or whatever it is that you do.  I’m going back to enjoying my vacation.

Rage rolls his eyes.

Rage: Yeah, yeah.  Whatever.  Talk to ya later.

The call then quickly ends and J2H disappears from the phone screen.  Rage puts his phone back on his night stand and sits there for a moment, thinking about everything J2H had said to him.  He still doesn’t look happy but he lays back in bed and opens his laptop up again to finish watching the show.

---

This is it?  This is the best that Mark and Christian can put me up against?  Some dumbass with a fucked up name?  Jesus Christ, things never change do they?  But, none of that shit matters anymore, because no matter who the hell they book me against, the end result is going to be the same.  Me walking out with the win and the poor bastard I’m facing walking out in a serious amount of pain.

Eyesnsane.  Fuck, I can’t even say that name without shaking my damn head.  What the fuck kind of name is Eyesnsane?!  Am I supposed to be afraid of you just because your name tries to imply that you’re fucking insane or something?  Get a fucking clue, dude, and change that shit.  

Guys like you, really get my blood fucking boiling.  You walk around here, talking a big game, acting like you’re hot shit, but you’re not.  You’re nothing, and you’ll always be nothing.  I don’t know why Mark or Christian booked this match, but it ain’t gonna end well for you.  All it’s gonna do is show them why you need to just stick to tag team matches because ya can’t hack it in the ring by yourself.  You’re the type of guy that needs his tag team partner to carry his ass to a win.   But not only that, you need to hide behind that stable of yours, trying to make yourself look good.  Trust me, I know guys like you, Eyesnsane.  

I used to be the same fucking way.

Every day for years...Fucking YEARS...I hid behind the Seven Deadly Sins, thinking they’d lead me to success, but did they?  Some people might say they did, but not me.  Sure, I won a title here and there, but did any of that matter to anyone?  Fuck no!  The whole time I was in the Sins, not one fucking person took me seriously, and anything I achieved, was only put as a success to the Sins.  Not me.

Think about it, Eyesnsane.  A guy like you a member of The Elders?  Fucking seriously?  Big fucking mistake, Eyes.  Big fucking mistake.  But I don’t expect it to get through that skull of yours.  Not yet anyway.  So, I’m gonna do what I do best.  I’m gonna walk out to the ring.  I’m gonna stand in my corner until that bell rings, and when it does?  All bets are off, Eyes.  Once that bell rings, the devil of SCW is going to be unleashed and guess what?  You’re the first unfortunate bastard to fall victim to the devil.  I’d say I’d do you a favor and try and make it quick and painless, but fuck that shit.  

I’m done doing people favors.  The only person I’m doing favors for anymore is myself and I’m going to enjoy every fucking second of listening to the sheer agony I put you through.  You’ll be begging me to just put you out of your misery, but will I give you what you want?  Will I just give you a quick and sudden end?  Fuck no.  You’re going to suffer, and you’re going to suffer a lot because I want everyone to see just how fucking serious I am.  

Don’t believe me, Eyesnsane?  Just wait until Sunday, and you’ll find out.  You’ll all find out, because I’ve never been more serious in my life.  I’m done wasting words on worthless assholes like you.  Words don’t mean shit.  In the end, actions always speak louder than words and my actions this Sunday will speak volumes, Eyesnsane.  

See you sunday, fucker!

 The one hundred sixty third episode of Climax Control ended perhaps in away no one saw coming...ever.  The main event saw current and longest reigning World Heavyweight Champion, J2H, defending his title once again against Dmitri on the returning Halloween show that saw the two competing in a Voodoo Bayou Match. All sorts of creepy crawlies and mysterious creatures made appearances in perhaps the most unusual World Heavyweight Championship match we’ve witnessed yet, but the presence of two masked druids would prove to be more than met the eye.  

At first, the druids seemed to be just part of the match itself, there to throw both men off, but towards the end of the match, they proved to be out for one thing and one thing only.  To assist J2H and help him keep the title around his waist.  That wasn’t at all surprising, but the two men who were underneath the masks themselves, indeed were.  After accidentally being unmasked by Uncle Pinky, the returning JT Midas was shown to be the first of the two druids.  But the second?  The second one was no doubt the most shocking.  

After J2H defeated Dmitri, the giant druid handed the belt back over to J2H and proceeded to remove his mask, revealing himself to be none other than the man who everyone thought hated J2H more than anyone else, and current(but perhaps now FORMER) member of the Seven Deadly Sins...Rage!

No warning.  No inkling.  Nothing that would lead anyone, the Sins included, to believe Rage would ever do such a thing as to align himself with J2H.  And as of yet, no one has any explanation as J2H, JT Midas and Rage were all refusing to say a thing, letting everyone wait for answers on what could prove to be the most shocking moment of the year.  And Rage was proving to be in no hurry to answer an onslaught of questions, either.  

After going out for a quick drink and the first meeting of their newly formed alliance, Rage made his way to the airport for his scheduled flight back to Las Vegas.  He’s boarding the plane, looking for his seat and looking around, noting the absence of the rest of the Seven Deadly Sins.  Normally they were on the same flight, but not a single one of them was there.  Odd, he thought, but due to his actions tonight, he figured they must had changed their flights to avoid speaking to him for now.  

No big deal, he thought, as he finally found his seat, and put his carry on bag in the overhead compartment.  He quickly took his seat and took his phone out of his pocket, and a set of headphones.  After placing his phone in airplane mode, he put in his headphones and put his music on shuffle.  He buckled his seatbelt and then leaned his head back, closing his eyes.  It wasn’t supposed to be a long flight, but because he was expecting one hell of a confrontation when he returned home, he decided to take the time to relax and get some shut eye.  

Too bad for Rage, this flight would prove to be much, MUCH longer than he thought.  You’d think by now the big man would be sure to check all the details of his flight before boarding said plane, but NOPE.  Not this time.  As the plane finished boarding, the Flight Attendant spoke over the intercom as was customary on every flight and introduced herself.

Flight Attendant: Good evening, ladies and gentleman.  My name is Sarah and I will be one of your flight attendants on the leg of your trip to Siberia...[/color]

And as Sarah the flight attendant continued to speak, Rage’s eyes remain closed and his music distracting him.  And he had absolutely no idea where he was headed…

---

Two Days Later

It has been a long and frustrating couple of days for Rage, and it has only affected his mood more than usual.  His cab driver pulls into Rage’s driveway and Rage immediately notices Phil’s car in the driveway.  He quickly pays the driver and then grabs his bags, heading up to his front door.  The driver pulls away and Rage walks into his house and immediately drops his bags on the floor.  There are a few bags at the top of the stairs and Rage folds his arms, getting a bad feeling about what this could mean.

He stands frozen in place as he waits for Phil.  He waits a few minutes until, finally, Phil emerges from downstairs, bringing yet another bag with him.  Phil looks a little surprised to see him, but he doesn’t say a word as Rage just glares at him.

Rage: Going somewhere, Phil?

Phil looks down to his bags then back to Rage, the expression on his face quietly saying “Duh.”  But, again, he doesn’t speak a word.

Rage: Why the hell are YOU giving me the silent treatment?  I didn’t do anything to you.

Phil lets out a sarcastic laugh and shakes his head.  

Phil: Maybe not, but it’s the principal of the matter, Jake.

Rage: Phil, how does what I did have anything to do with you?

Phil quickly shoots his head up and glares at Rage.

Phil: Seriously?  You’re really going to ask a dumbass question like that?!  You might be my blood brother, Jake, but what Synn and the others have done for me since I moved here has made them more my family than Mom, Ashley and Dad were!  You of all people should fucking understand that!

Rage: So, what, you’re moving out now?  You’re not even going to give me a chance to explain either and you’re just going to take everyone’s side over mine?

Phil doesn’t respond.  He grabs his bags and walks towards the door, but Rage blocks him.

Rage: Come on, Phil.

Phil: You just don’t get it, do you?  You blindsided EVERYONE, Jake.

Rage: What I did was a business decision, Phil.  There was nothing personal about it, but you’re fucking making it personal!  You have nothing to do with SCW!

Phil: Business decision or not, it still doesn’t erase the fact that you turned your back on your fucking family and I’ll be damned if I’m going to live with you after you could do something like that.  After everything they’ve done for you, you could just do that at the drop of a dime?  Bullshit, Jake.  Bullshit.

Rage shakes his head, but he doesn’t move an inch.  He continues to block Phil from leaving, and this further annoys Phil.

Rage: So where you gonna go then?  You gonna move in with Maddie?

Phil: Where I’m going is none of your business anymore.

Rage: Seriously, Phil...

Phil: I suggest you move out of my way, Jake.  You may be bigger than me and a professionally trained wrestler, but I think I could make one move that would drop you to your knees.  I’m not living with you anymore.

Rage keeps his arms folded across his chest as if testing his brother’s patience, but Phil surprises Rage as he gets toe to toe with him.  Though Rage towers over him by several inches.

Phil: Don’t fucking test me, Jake.  Get out of my way.  Now.

Rage stands there for a few more moments but as he stares at the look on Phil’s face and realizes that he’s serious, he finally steps aside and lets him pass.  

Rage: For what it’s worth, Phil, I think moving in with Maddie is a good decision.  You two are good together.

Phil turns around and looks at Rage, a very serious expression on his face.

Phil: I’m not moving into Maddie’s place.  Not that it’s any of your business, but I asked Synn if I could stay with him until I figure something out and he was more than happy to let me stay there.

Without another word, Phil turns back around and walks out of the house.  Rage stands in his kitchen, his jaw dropped as he hears the engine to Phil’s car roar to life and a few moments later, the car speeds off out of the driveway.  Rage runs his hand over his bald head and he walks over to the island counter in the center of his kitchen.  He places his palms on the counter top, leaning against it as he drops his head, thinking to himself for a while.  He had expected a mess between he and the Seven Deadly Sins, but the fact that his brother was now upset with him was a shocking effect he wasn’t expecting.

After a few moments he turns around and dashes out of his house and back to his car.  After roaring the engine to life, he speeds off out of the driveway, heading to the one place that could make things worse.

Synn’s house…

---

It didn’t take him long to get to Synn’s home.  Phil was already there, as well as Kittie, but they appeared to be the only ones, as Synn’s car wasn’t there, and neither was Gabriel’s.  Though the latter was obvious as Gabriel had his own family to take care of.

After parking his car behind Phil’s, he killed the engine and then started walking towards the front door.  Normally, Rage wasn’t expected to ring the doorbell, as any member of the Seven Deadly Sins could come and go as they pleased.  But after what he had done?  Rage wasn’t taking any chances, so he promptly stopped outside the door and rang the doorbell.  He waited patiently for someone to answer the door, but no one came.  So he rang the bell again.  And again, no one answer.

Rage: Come on!  Phil!  Kittie!  I know you’re both in there!  Someone come open the damn--

Before Rage could finish, the door opened and Synn’s housekeeper, and member of the family in her own right, Theresa, stood before Rage.  But she did not smile at him, nor did she look the least bit pleased to see him.

Theresa: Can I help you?

Rage: Oh, hey Theresa.  I just need to talk to Kittie and Phil.

Theresa shakes her head.

Theresa: I’m sorry, but neither of them would like to speak to you right now.  I suggest you head on home.

Rage: Where’s Synn and Despy?

Theresa: They’re not home at the moment, but where they are is certainly none of your business.  If you don’t get off this property I’ve been instructed to report you for trespassing.

Rage’s eyes widen.

Rage: What the hell?  You can’t be--

Theresa: Adios senor.

Rage: Theresa, wait!

Theresa doesn’t give him the chance to say another word, however, as she promptly slams the door right in his face!  He’s left speechless, but he doesn’t leave.  He’s already had a confrontation with Phil today, and now Theresa, but the one person he needs to see more than anything is the woman who agreed to marry him, who was also a Seven Deadly Sins member...Kittie.  

Rage steps closer to the door and proceeds to pound away loudly, refusing to leave.  But he has enough respect not to just burst into the house and make a scene.

Rage: Kittie!  Get out here and talk to me damn it!  Kittie, come on!

He continues pounding his fist on the door until the door swings open and Kittie finally appears.  She steps out and closes the door behind her, glaring at Rage, ready to kill him.

Kittie: Did you not hear Theresa, Rage?  Or are you just that fucking stupid that you’re pushing the limits with this one?

Rage: Oh I heard her, but I don’t give a shit right now.  You and I need to talk.

Kittie shakes her head.

Kittie: No, we don’t.  Just get back in your car and go back home.

Rage: Kittie, come on.  I’m your fiancee for fuck’s sake!

Kittie: My fiancee that right now, I need some space from.  So do yourself a favor, before you make this shit worse, and just...fucking go home.

Rage: You’ve gotta be shitting me right now?!  You all have had two fucking days to stew this over while I nearly got sent to Siberia thanks to Despy’s changing my flight reservation!  And it took me forever just to get a damn flight back to Vegas!  You’re seriously not going to give me a chance to explain?

Kittie shakes her head.

Kittie: At this very moment?  No.  I need some time to think and figure shit out, because what you did was pretty shitty, but you just don’t get it.  Please, Rage, just go home.  You’re lucky Synn and Despy aren’t here right now.

Rage: This is fucking bullshit!  I make one fucking decision, and none of you are giving me a chance to explain!  You’re basically just shunning me, and it’s really fucking shitty!

Kittie: Can you blame us?!  Seriously?!  Can you really fucking blame us after being blindsided like this?!

Rage shakes his head and spins around, throwing his arms in the air in frustration.

Rage: Fine!  Whatever!  Be fucking pissed off at me!  You can call off our engagement!  Phil can fucking move in here and turn his back on me after everything I fucking did to help him!  Everybody can fucking hate me!  That’s nothing fucking new!

Rage clenches his fists at his side and kicks at the air before he storms off back to his car.  Phil finally walks out of the house just as Rage speeds out of the driveway and away from Synn’s place.  Phil shakes his head before he looks to Kittie, placing a comforting hand on her back.

Phil: You okay?

Kittie just stares at the driveway where Rage’s car used to be.  After a few moments, she just shakes her head and disappears back inside without saying another word, and Phil follows right behind her.

---

Why’d you do it Rage?  How could you turn your back on The Seven Deadly Sins, Rage?  Why did you align yourself with the one man you’ve hated more than anything recently?  Why did you help him out, Rage?  Why...Why...Why...Why...Why?!

All you people need to shut the fuck up and mind your own damn business!  Everywhere I go the past few days I keep getting people asking me the same fucking questions over and over again.  But the fact of the matter is that I don’t owe any of you people an explanation.  I don’t have to answer, because it’s none of your fucking business, and when I want you to know why I interfered on J’s behalf in that match against Dmitri, you’ll all fucking know!  Until then, shut your fucking mouths and get the fuck over it!

I haven’t been around much since Violent Conduct.  After I tapped out and Despayre beat me for the Internet Championship, I took a few weeks and just...took a breather from Sin City Wrestling.  I had to re-evaluate what it is I wanted and what my next move was going to be, and I didn’t even bother to turn up at the shows.  I wasn’t quitting or retiring or any other dumb shit people might have thought.  

And then before I knew it, it was the Halloween show and I was dressed up in a fucking druid costume handing the belt back to J after he retained against Dmitri.  I know nobody saw it coming.  That was the fucking idea!  And regardless of what anyone says, Dmitri would have lost even if JT and I didn’t show up.  Dmitri will probably talk a bunch of shit, whining and complaining, but the fact is, J finished him off.  J hit him with the Solid Gold and then pinned his ass to the ground and got the 1-2-3.

Ya hear that Dmitri?  You’re so hell bent on a *air quotes* fair fight, but do you really think that’ll make a damn bit of difference?  Newsflash, bloodsucker...It won’t.  There’s a reason J is the longest reigning champion this company has ever seen, and it took me until just recently to realize it.  Love him or hate him, J2H is just that damn good and there ain’t anybody who can beat him.  Just look at the kid’s track record.  He’s beat everyone before JT or I were in the picture, and he’ll continue to beat everyone else they put in front of him.  Not that there are any challengers left, anyway.

Open your eyes, Dmitri.  Open your fucking eyes and realize, you ain’t worth the World Heavyweight Championship.  You haven’t even been here barely a year and you think you have what it takes to be World Heavyweight Champion?  I took the Internet Championship back from you after a righted a wrong that never should have happened and what have you done since then?  Fuck all.  Except aligning yourself with one of the most boring Roulette Champions this company has ever seen.  And that’s saying something considering Steve Ramone held that damn title!

Of all the people you had to align yourself with you chose James Tuscini?  Fucking seriously?  James...Tuscini?  And you call yourself the Unholy Alliance?  HA!  That’s about as fucking bad as The Monstimals.  But I guess that shows how worthless you really are, Dmitri.  So long as you keep yourself teamed with James Tuscini, no one will take you seriously.  No one will be afraid of you, and that’s just a cold hard fact.

You hearing me, Tuscini?  You and Uncle Pinky listening carefully out there?  I’m sure you are.  I know you guys pay attention to everything, and you have an opinion about everything, but you know what I think about you and that uncle of yours...or that Roulette title reign of yours?  

You ain’t shit, and you’re never going to be shit.  You and Uncle Pinky like to run your mouths, that much is clear.  And somehow...somehow...you got lucky enough to actually win the Roulette title.  Seriously?  Watching you and that Uncle of yours talk all the damn time gives me an instant headache, and people have the balls to call me boring?  Just seeing your faces puts me to sleep.  And yet these douchebags on the fucking roster can’t even get the job done to get a simple fucking win over you?  Color me confused as shit, because I don’t get it.

Go ahead and be pissed that JT and I got involved in that match.  You and that worthless, botoxed up old fart of an uncle of yours showed up and you still couldn’t stop J from retaining his title.  What does that say about you?  What does that say about your so called skills, huh?  And you think this Sunday will be any different?  You think you and Dmitri have what it takes to beat me and JT just because JT and I aren’t an established team?  Think again, asshole.  I could take you and Dmitri on by myself and the outcome would still be the same.  With you guys walking away with the loss.

You see, I’m gonna prove that I made a better decision in aligning with J2H than the two of you did in forming the Unholy Alliance.  People are going to pay attention to the three of us.  They’re going to see what a real dangerous force is.  They’re going to be talking about us for months and maybe years to come, while the likes of you two?  You’ll go on to keep losing, and the people will just ignore the pair of you because...let’s be honest.  The Unholy Alliance just doesn’t make any fucking sense.

But Rage, J2H and JT Midas...Well, that’s a combination that will make waves in this fucking company.  In this fucking business.  Don’t believe me?  Sit back and watch as it happens, because I can guarantee you that it will.  Gone are the days where people underestimate just what Rage is all about.  

Now?  Now I’ve chosen the right path and people will see just how dangerous I really am.

And I owe it all to J2Hism.  

See ya Sunday, fuckers!  

 Ten Years Ago…

Shock.  That is the only way to describe how she is feeling at this very moment.  The moment her life has changed forever.  But, not just her life.  Oh no.  There was one other party involved in what could very well turn out to be a complete disaster, as neither of them were expecting this.  

The petite brunette stands in the bathroom of the home she shares with her boyfriend.  She has her palms placed on the sides of the sink, and she’s leaning against it.  For support perhaps.  To gather her thoughts, maybe.  She couldn’t quite tell at the moment.  She just takes in a few deep breaths and stares at herself in the mirror.  Her face says it all.  She’s downright scared.  Terrified even.

But she’s not terrified of the situation she is in.  No, she’s more terrified to break the news to her boyfriend, because she could only keep picturing over and over in her mind how he would react.  And it wasn’t a pretty picture.  It wasn’t an excited, loving and happy reaction.  No, it was more a furious, rage filled dreading reaction.

But she has to tell him.  And, unfortunately for her, that moment is going to come a lot sooner than she had hoped as she hears the front door shutting as he has now gotten home.  She doesn’t even have time to gather her thoughts and come up with the proper way to break the news.  She nearly jumps out of her skin when he pounds on the bathroom door.

“Electra?!  Why the fuck do you have the bathroom door locked?!”

She takes in a deep breath and wipes away and remnants of tears that may have been left in her eyes before she turns and faces the door.

Electra: I’ll be out in a second, Rage.  I’m just not feeling well.

Rage lets out a growl and storms off down the hall into their bedroom.  Electra takes in another deep breath and grabs something off of the sink.  She holds it in her hand as she turns and unlocks the door.  She gathers up all of her courage as she walks out of the bathroom and walks out, heading down the hall to their bedroom.  She stands in the doorway and watches Rage as he is seated on the edge of the bed, untying his boots.

Electra: Babe, I...I need to talk to you.

Rage rolls his eyes and looks up at her as he pulls his shirt off over his head.

Rage: Can it wait?  I’d like to take a shower and relax for a while.

Electra: No, it can’t.  It really can’t.

Rage shakes his head and stands up from the bed.  He walks over to Electra, but the look on his face says he isn’t the slightest bit interested in talking at the moment.

Rage: Electra, I’m sure it can wait, alright?  I’m tired as fuck right now and--

Electra: Rage, I’m pregnant…

His face falls and almost turns panicked as he stumbles back and away from her, shaking his head.  

Rage: What?  No.  You’re bullshitting me right now.

Electra shakes her head and she holds up her right hand, showing him what she is holding.  The pregnancy test.  And it very clearly shows the positive sign, meaning she was, indeed, telling the truth.

Rage: It...It’s wrong, Electra.  It’s a false positive or something.  You’re not pregnant.

Electra shakes her head and takes in a deep breath.  She takes a step towards him, but he backs away, obviously now in shock.

Electra: I’m almost a month late, Rage.  I already made a doctor’s appointment for later this week, but I’m pretty sure it’s not a false positive.  I know my body, and I know that I’m pregnant.

Rage continues to back away and eventually, he sinks down onto the bed.  He brings his hands up to his head, grasping at what would be hair if he had any, and he starts to shake his head.  He thinks about it for a moment before his eyes suddenly narrow and he turns and glares at Electra, furious.

Rage: If you’re pregnant, then that kid ain’t mine!

Electra rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

Electra: Oh really?  Did you think you were shooting blanks and that is your way of accusing me of cheating on you or something?  Grow up, Rage.  This is most definitely yours.

Rage: You’re trying to fucking trap me!  

Electra: Trap you?!  Why the hell would I try to trap you when I knew you were vehemently against having kids from the start?!  I didn’t expect you to just suddenly change your mind!

Rage lets out furious growl and grips at his head.  He didn’t know how this could happen.  Well, he knew HOW it happened but he never expected it to.

Electra: Look, I wasn’t expecting this any more than you were, but you’re the one who--

Rage looks up and points his finger at Electra angrily.

Rage: Don’t fucking pin this on me!  You should have been taking pills to prevent this or something!

Electra lets out a laugh as she shakes her head.

Electra: Yeah, and you knew I wasn’t when you decided not to use a God damned condom one time!  So we’re BOTH to blame for this!

Rage snarls before he stands up from the bed and approaches her.  He looks down at her and very seriously and almost viciously, he tells her what to do.

Rage: Take care of it.  And soon.

Electra’s eyes widen.

Electra: Excuse me?  What exactly--

Rage: You know what I’m fucking saying.  Neither one of us is ready to have a kid, Electra.  Especially me.  Do what you have to fucking do.

Rage then heads over to the closet and starts gathering up some clothes, tossing them in a duffel bag.  Electra watches him the whole time, almost heartbroken and she fights back tears.

Electra: What are you doing?  Where are you going?

Rage: I...I need to fucking get away for a few days.

Electra: Rage, we really need to talk about this.  Seriously talk about it.

Rage: There’s nothing to talk about, Electra.  Nothing you say will change my mind.  Ever.  I’ll be back in a few days.

Electra tries to stop him as he goes to walk out of their bedroom, but he pulls away and storms out.  A few seconds later she hears the front door slamming shut and she turns around, shaking her head.  Tears are now streaming down her face as she walks over to the bed and sinks down burying her face in one hand and holding her stomach in the other.

---

Wednesday August 10th
4 A.M

As has been the case several times over the last couple of weeks, Rage is once again in his fitness room.  He’d woken up following a memory plaguing his dreams.  He hadn’t slept more than two hours before the dream and he knew there was no way he’d manage to fall back asleep after, so he headed down to his fitness room for an early workout.  As he’s currently working the punching back, getting more aggressive with each punch, he’s not paying attention when his brother knocks on the door.  Add to that the fact that he has his earphones in listening to some loud music, and the only way Phil can get his attention is to walk up behind him and tap him on his shoulder.

Phil: Hey!  Jake!

Rage nearly jumps out of his skin, and he’s in full defense mode as he spins around and nearly punches Phil right in his jaw.  Phil has to leap a couple of feet back, holding his hands up, as Rage pulls his earphones out.  He shakes his head and stares at Phil.

Rage: Jesus Christ, Phil!  Don’t fucking walk up behind me like that!

Phil: What else was I supposed to do?  You obviously couldn’t hear me over that music you were listening to.  What the hell are you doing down here?

Rage looks around the room and lets out a laugh.

Rage: What else would I be doing in here?  I couldn’t sleep so I decided to get an early workout in.  You just getting in from work?

Phil nods.

Phil: Yeah, I got stuck there a little bit longer than I thought.  What’s going on with you, man?  And don’t lie to me again.

Rage stares at Phil for a moment.  He shakes his head when Phil folds his arms across his chest, proof that he won’t accept anything but the truth.

Rage: You’re more nagging that Kittie is, you know that?

Phil: Can you blame me?  You’re my brother and something is bothering the hell out of you lately.  Whatever the hell it is, you can trust me.

Rage takes in a deep breath and walks over to a bench just a few feet away.  He grabs his bottle of water and takes a drink and then sits down.  There is also a towel sitting next to him and he takes in and wipes the sweat from his head and face.

Rage: Look, Phil.  It’s all just...complicated.

Phil: It’s probably not as complicated as you’re making it seem.

Rage closes his eyes and shakes his head again.  The only other person who knew what was really going on with him was sleeping in their bedroom upstairs, and the secret that he’s keeping is not something he really wanted to tell anyone else.

Rage: Alright.  So, you remember when we talked a couple months ago you asked me if I had thought about marriage, kids, the whole nine yards with Kittie?

Phil nods.

Phil: Yeah.  And you were obviously lying about the marriage thing considering you actually went and proposed to Kittie.

<red>Rage: Yeah, the marriage thing is wasn’t I was talking about.  I told you I didn’t want to doom a kid to have my DNA and shit.  You remember that?

Phil nods again.

Phil: Yeah, I remember, but what---Shit.  Kittie really is pregnant isn’t she?!

Rage growls and shakes his head.

Rage: No!  Christ, would you just let me finish?

Phil holds his hands up.

Phil: Sorry, bro.  Go ahead and finish what you were saying.

Rage: Anyway.  So you know all about my psycho ex-girlfriend, Electra.  She pops back up every couple of years trying to find some way back into my life, but that ship has long since sailed and I have no interest in that bitch anymore.  Well, we found out why she’s back around now.

Phil shakes his head, not understanding what Rage is trying to tell him.  Rage rolls his eyes and lets out a frustrated growl before he takes the picture that Electra had give him of his supposed daughter, Ember, and hands it over to Phil.

Rage: That’s apparently Electra’s daughter, Ember.

Phil: Wait...weren’t you talking to this girl’s father a few months back?

Rage nods.

Rage: Well that’s the thing.  He’s not really her father.  That was Electra’s brother, Danny.

Phil: Okay.  So what does this have to do with....Oooh, shit.  You’re this girl’s father?

Rage throws his hands up in the air and shrugs.

Rage: That’s what Electra says, Phil, but...I don’t know!  Why the fuck should I believe her?!  She’s done nothing but lie to me in the past and done some pretty crazy shit to try and get me to get back together with her, so why should I believe this?  I wouldn’t put it past her trying to pin someone else’s kid on me.

Phil: Dude, I know you say she’s crazy and all, but...Why would she try to pin a kid on you when you don’t even want kids?  And better yet, how did you not know all this time that you could have a kid?!

Rage buries his head in his hands again, going silent and Phil looks at him suspiciously.

Phil: You didn’t know, did you Jake?

Rage: I don’t know, Phil!  I blocked it out or something!  Around the time that we broke up she had a scare or something, but...I’m telling you that kid ain’t mine, Phil.  I...I can’t be her father!

Phil takes in a deep breath and he sits down next to Rage.  He hands the picture back to his brother and tries to come up with something that could help him.

Phil: Look, I’m not gonna ask for the whole story, but you really need to figure out what the hell happened.  Didn’t Electra tell you everything?

Rage shakes his head.

Rage: No.  I didn’t give her the chance to, because I really don’t want to fucking hear it.  I’ve got too much other shit to worry about right now, Phil.  She sprung that shit on me right before my damn title defense against Kain and Steve Ramone, and now we have this Canadian tour coming up.  I can’t be worrying about something that probably isn’t--

Phil: Dude, you just said that she had a scare before you two broke up.  I think you owe it to yourself to find out the truth and really figure out if you’re that girl’s father.  There’s nothing saying you have to be a part of her life, but...come on, man.  Think about this.  Really think about it.

Rage continues to shake his head, and he has a lost expression on his face as he tries to think about what he should do.  Phil just pats his brother on the back before he stands up.

Phil: You’re the only one who can really decide what you want to do, Jake.  Kittie and I, we can only give you so much advice, but it’s up to you to figure out what your next move is.  I’ll give you some space in the meantime.  I need to go take a shower and then crash for a few hours.  You gonna be alright?

Rage nods and stands up from the bench, grabbing his bottle of water and towel again.

Rage: I’ll be fine, bro.  Go get some sleep.

Phil: Just take some time to decide what you wanna do, Jake.  And don’t get so damn stressed over it.

Rage lets out a laugh.

Rage: Yeah, easy for you to say.  You’re not going through this shit.

Phil: True, I’m not.  Just relax, bro.  Everything will workout in the end.

Rage remains silent and just nods at his brother slowly.  Phil then turns and walks out of the fitness room.  He heads just down the hall to his bathroom to take a shower and Rage heads back over to the punching bag.  He puts his earphones back in and hits shuffle on his phone to play some more music as he tries to clear the thoughts from his head while letting out some aggression.

******************************

Back To Ten Years Ago…

Four days have passed since Electra broke the news to Rage that she was pregnant.  And it’s been four days since Electra has even spoken to Rage, as after she told him, he bolted out the door as he told her to “take care of it.”  Rage didn’t have to say the exact words, but Electra knew what he meant by that.  She knew he wanted her to terminate the pregnancy, and regardless of how he felt, it broke Electra’s heart.

She had no idea when Rage would be back, but she knew one thing.  She doesn’t want to be here when he does decide to come home.  She’s currently in their bedroom, packing up as many of her clothes as she can.  She already has one bag packed and she’s working on another, moving around the apartment quickly.  Unfortunately for her, Rage won’t make her exit a quiet one.  Just as she zips up her second bag she hears the apartment door close.  She lets out a disappointed sigh and before she knows it, Rage is standing in the bedroom doorway, looking at her packed bags, and then to her.

Rage: Going somewhere?

Electra turns her head and just looks at him.  She says nothing as she takes her duffel bag off the bed and walks it over, placing it next to the other bag.

Rage: Would you slow down for a second so we can talk?

Electra just lets out a laugh but she can’t look at him.

Electra: Talk?  You made it very clear the other day that you don’t want to talk about this.  I’m doing you a favor, Rage.  You don’t need to say anything else.

Rage: Electra, relax, alright?  I admit I freaked out the other day, but can you blame me?  Kids aren’t my thing.

Electra: It doesn’t matter, okay?  I get it.  But, I can’t do this anymore.  If I’m going to be honest with you, I think I’ve been over this for a while, and so have you.

Rage raises an eyebrow as Electra finally faces him.

Rage: What the hell are you talking about?  I’m not going to let you just end this when you’re carrying my kid, Electra.

Electra: You told me to get a fucking abortion, Rage!  Do you really think I’d stay with you when you’d tell me to do something like that?!

Rage: I told you I freaked out!  If you would just talk to me rationally we can work--

Electra shakes her head and she looks down to the floor, her eyes filling with tears.

Electra: It doesn’t matter, Rage.  There’s nothing to work out.

Rage: Like hell there isn’t!

Electra: I’M NOT PREGNANT, OKAY?!  It was a fucking false alarm!

Rage’s jaw drops a bit and he’s left temporarily speechless.  But while a part of him was relieved to hear this, he also oddly felt really shitty for the way he had treated Electra.  He runs his hand over his head, unable to find the words to say, and this gives Electra the chance to speak more.

Electra: It’s for the best anyway, Rage.  This was never going to work out between us, and involving a kid in the whole situation?  It wouldn’t have been fair to either of us, or the baby.  Not to mention, I wouldn’t want you to feel like you had to stay with me just because I was pregnant.

Rage: So that’s it then?  You’re just packing your shit and leaving because I understandably freaked out?  

Electra nods.

Electra: That was just the straw that broke the camel’s back, Rage.  I’m not going to stand here and say this is easy for me, because it’s not.  I love you.  I have no idea why, because you’re a complete asshole sometimes, but I still love you.  But the fact is, you’ll never love me back.

Rage rubs his head, suddenly uncomfortable with this whole conversation.

Rage: Look, Electra…

Electra holds her hand up.

Electra: No, Rage.  You don’t need to say anything, okay?  I understand and, honestly, I’m not really that upset.  This is all eye opening for me.  You spend so much of your time with Synn and the Seven Deadly Sins, and so little with me.  They’re your family.  There’s no room in your life for me, so it’s best we just go our separate ways.

Rage suddenly narrows his eyes at Electra as she brings up the Seven Deadly Sins.

Rage: Leave it up to you to use the Sins as a fucking excuse.  I’ve never understood what you’ve had against them!

Electra: Really?  Need I remind you how your initiation into that twisted little family went?  I’ve never understood how you could stomach to be around those people.  Especially Synn!  But, hey, it’s not my problem anymore.  You don’t need to worry about me.  You don’t need to worry about a baby.  You’re free, Rage.  I’m done.

Rage: Fine.  Fucking go then.  But don’t try and come running back to me a week from now.  I’m not going to put up with your bullshit drama.

Electra laughs as she grabs her backs.

Electra: Oh, don’t worry, Rage.  I won’t come running back next week.  Run along to Synn now.  I’m sure he’ll be happy to know that you’re no longer attached to me.  Not that he cared before.

Rage: Fuck you, Electra.

Electra: Not anymore, you’re not.  Good-bye, Rage.  Have a nice life with the Sins.

Electra then walks past Rage, not even bothering to collect any of her other belongings.  Rage watches her walk out of the apartment, and out of his life, and once she’s gone, he clenches his fist and punches the wall, leaving a nice hole right in the center, before he turns around and disappears into the bathroom and a few moments later, the shower is heard running.

******************************

Later in the morning, after his workout and a shower, Rage made a decision he didn’t think he’d make so soon.  The fact was, with Kittie nagging him so much, and after his talk with Phil, he had come to the realization that he had to bite the bullet.  He had to talk to Electra and find out the truth, because the events that he remembered, just didn’t add up.

So he called the number in his recent call log that he knew was Electra.  He had ignored it so many times, it felt strange to actually be calling her, and he half expected her to not answer.  But she did, and rather quickly.  It wasn’t a long conversation, but he found out she was in Las Vegas(big surprise), and was able to meet up.

Now here he is, walking into the local cafe about to get the answers he needed.  He’s greeted by a waitress as soon as he walks in, but he spots Electra at a table towards the back of the cafe and he heads towards her.  She has a cup of tea in front of her and she smiles at him as he walks up to the table and takes a seat in the chair across from her.

Electra: Hello, Rage.  I’m glad you finally decided to sit down and talk with me.

Rage: Yeah, well you kind of left me no choice.  I need to know what the hell is going on, and talking over the phone isn’t exactly an option with you.

Electra nods and she takes a sip of her tea.  The waitress walks up to the table with a pot of coffee, offering some to Rage and he holds out his mug and she fills the glass.  The two don’t order any food so the waitress walks away.

Electra: I know you’d rather not see me, and I don’t blame you, but this is better said in person.  I know you, and you need to see my face to know that I’m telling the truth, otherwise you wouldn’t have believe me over the phone.

Rage: There’s no guarantee I’ll actually believe you even now, Electra.  This whole situation is fucked up, and you decided to spring it on me at the worst possible time.  Things are just looking up for me in SCW and once again, you come back into the picture and fuck it up.

Electra just shakes her head and grins.

Electra: It’s not my fault you were avoiding me for well over a month when I was trying to get in touch with you.  And there’s nothing that says any of this has to affect your status in SCW.  Only you can let that happen.

Rage: Look, I’d rather not sit here and argue with you for very long.  I want to know what the hell happened.  The sooner you get this over with, the sooner I can leave and hopefully never have to see you again.

Electra takes in a deep breath and then lets out a sigh.  She holds on to her cup of tea, and just looks Rage directly in his eyes, finally ready to tell him the truth.

Electra: I was sick, Rage.  For a very long time.  And not physically sick.  I mean mentally sick.  You know that.

Rage nods.

Rage: Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.

Electra: The day that I left, you remember that?

He nods, but doesn’t say a word.

Electra: I lied to you.  I told you that it was a false alarm and that I wasn’t pregnant, but the truth is that I was.  I hadn’t gone to the doctor yet, but after the way you reacted when I told you, I knew that I couldn’t force you into being a father to our child.

Rage: So you fucking lied to me.  You decided to have our kid without me in the picture and leave me absolutely clueless?

Electra nods.

Electra: Basically, yes.  There was no way I was going to terminate the pregnancy either.  No matter how screwed up mentally I was, I wasn’t going to kill my own child, regardless of if you wanted it or not.

Rage: So where the hell does your brother come into this?  Why is he painting himself as her father?

Electra takes in another deep breath and her facial expression turns sad, almost heartbroken.

Electra: Well I went to live with Danny after I left you.  I told him what had happened, and he was helping me out as much as he could.  But as I got further along in my pregnancy, and the hormones really started to kick in, I started going off the deep end basically.  I regretted leaving you.  I wanted to come find you and tell you that I was still pregnant in hopes we could be a family, but Danny was doing everything he could to protect me.  Long story short, he was awarded guardianship of Ember after I was born due to my diminished mental capacity, or however they wanted to word it.  I was in no shape to raise her.

Rage: And she doesn’t know?

Electra shakes her head.

Electra: No, she doesn’t.  

Rage: So why the hell didn’t you tell me all of this two years ago when you came around?

Electra laughs.

Electra: Well, that was part of the plan, but you saw how I was then.  I wasn’t exactly focused on Ember.  I was more obsessed with doing anything I could to try and win you back.  After you powerbombed me through that table, I was hospitalized for a while.  Not just healing from my neck injury that caused, but getting psychiatric help as well.  Anyway, The past two years, a lot has changed.  I’ve been doing everything in my power to get better so that, one day, I can hopefully be a mother to Ember.  Danny isn’t happy about it, and he’s probably going to do everything in his power to stop me, but I’ve gotten a lawyer to help me fight if I need to.

Rage: So what’s your plan then?  She’s almost ten years old, Electra.

Electra: I know that.  I’d like to tell her I’m her mother by her tenth birthday.  I know she’ll have a lot of questions, and she may not understand, but she needs to know.  And I know one of her questions will be about you...about her father.

Rage lets out a sigh and shakes his head.

Rage: Look, Electra, maybe you telling he the truth isn’t the best idea at all.  It seems to me that your brother has a pretty good idea of what’s best for her.  He’s been a decent father to her.  Why the hell would you want to fuck that up by springing this shit on her?

Electra: Because she’s MY daughter, Rage.  I carried her for nine months, whether I was in my right mind or not.  I want to make up for lost time.  I understand Danny has done a great job in raising her, and I’m grateful to him for that, but...she’s my daughter!  She’s YOUR daughter too.

Rage: So you say, Electra.  There’s still not a whole lot of reason for me to believe that she’s actually mine.  For all I know, you could have went and fucked somebody else right after you left me.  I still have no reason to believe you.

Electra brings her hands up to her temples and rubs them.  She shakes her head.

Electra: Then that’s your problem I guess.  But, deep down, you know she’s your daughter.  I really don’t know what else I have to say to prove it to you, because clearly you’re not going to believe any of it.

Rage: I guess I just don’t understand why you decided to tell me anyway.  You want her to know you’re her mother, fine.  But you know how I’ve felt about having kids.  You really think I’m going to want to be a part of her life after ten fucking years?

Electra: Because, regardless of your decision on that, you had to know you have a daughter.  Plain and simple.  I can’t force you to be a part of her life.  Do I hope that you will be?  For her sake and yours, yes.  But, I’m not going to force you.  I just wanted you to know the truth.

A long silence falls between the two for a while as Rage considers his next move.  His life just took an unexpected turn.  One that he really had no idea what to do about, and all he knows is that there is a ten year old little girl out there with his blood running through her veins...at least according to Electra.  All signs pointed to the fact that he is indeed Ember’s father, but a part of him still doesn’t want to believe it.

Rage: Well, that’s some story you spun me, Electra.

Electra: I’m sorry?

Rage: I’m still not letting you pin some kid on me that’s not mine.  It was a nice try, but it didn’t work.

Electra just shakes her head as she watches Rage pull out his wallet and take out some cash.  He puts it down on the table as he pushes himself away from the table, as Electra looks up at him disappointed.

Electra: I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.  Well, the ball is in your court, Rage.  I don’t know why I would lie to you about you being her father if I wasn’t planning forcing you to be a part of her life, but, whatever.  Believe what you want to believe, or don’t.  I guess it doesn’t matter anymore.

Rage just laughs as Electra looks away from him.  She takes another sip of her tea as Rage turns around and walks off without another word.  Electra watches as he storms out of the cafe and back to his car, and just shakes her head.

---

Friday August 19th
Calgary, Alberta, Canada

We’re just two days away from the 156th Episode of Climax Control live from the Father David Bauer Olympic Arena in Calgary.  Eight matches are scheduled for the night, including the Fatal Four Way for the SCW Internet Championship when Rage puts his title on the line against Matt Spears, Kain and Lord Raab.  And while his mind has been otherwise distracted with other events going on in his life at the moment, he knows that, if he wants to retain his title, he needs to be one hundred percent focused on that.

Easier said than done.  And one person in particular can tell that something is on Rage’s mind.  

Synn stares across the table at Rage as the group is just finishing up dinner for the evening.  Despayre has disappeared somewhere with Kittie, leaving Synn alone with the big man, but Rage has no idea Synn is even staring at him.  He’s too busy staring down at his unfinished plate of food, moving his fork around the plate almost in a trance.  Synn clears his throat loudly, finally grabbing Rage’s attention.

Rage: Huh?  Did you say something?

Synn folds his arms and raises an eyebrow at Rage.

Synn: No, I didn’t, but I plan to now.  What is going on with you?

Rage shakes his head.

Rage: Nothing.  What makes you think there’s anything going on?

Synn: Well for one, you still have food on your plate.  Second, Joshua did anything and everything he could to annoy you tonight and you barely even said a word.  And third, I tried getting it out of Kittie, but she just shook her head.  So I know you’re hiding something.  The both of you apparently.

Rage pushes the plate of food away from him and leans back in his chair.  He, too, folds his arms as he looks at Synn, again shaking his head.

Rage: It’s nothing, Synn.  I’m just tired today is all.

Synn isn’t buying it.  And the look on his face is proof enough for Rage, but that doesn’t stop Rage from doing all that he can to keep his secret from Synn, at least for now.

Synn: Bullshit.  Now, whatever the hell is going on with you now may be nothing to you, Rage, but it clearly is something.  And whatever it is could have a negative impact on all of us.  You have a title defense coming up in two days, and Chris is challenging for the World Heavyweight Championship.  Now, if this has something to do with Electra, as I suspect it might, I think I should at least know what is going on so I can prepare for anything that may happen.

Rage closes his eyes.  He shakes his head again, because he doesn’t want to tell Synn about the real possibility that Electra’s daughter may be his, but Synn isn’t going to let this go.

Rage: It’s nothing you need to worry about right now, Synn.  Alright?  Nothing is going to happen, so you don’t need to be prepared for anything.  Electra isn’t going to try anything anymore.  She said what she needed to say, and that’s that.

Synn nods, but he’s still not accepting Rage’s reluctance to tell the whole story.

Synn: That’s all perfectly fine, Rage, but something is clearly on your mind.  If you want to stand any chance at retaining your title on Sunday, you need a clear mind.  You’re facing three other men for Christ’s sake!

Rage: I’ll be fine.  I’m not worried about Spears, Kain or Raab.  Especially not Spears or Kain.  I know what I have to do, Synn.

Synn: It doesn’t appear that you do, because you’re letting something distract you.  Just tell me what it is, because I might be able to help you.

Rage thinks for a moment, deciding what to do.  He stares at Synn, knowing full well that Synn isn’t going to let this go so he finally shakes his head, lets out a sigh and prepares to tell him the truth.

Rage: Alright, fine.  I’ll tell you.  But you can not tell anyone else.  Especially not Gabriel!

Synn: You can trust me.  Now go on.

Rage takes in a deep breath.

Rage: Long story short?  Electra has a nine year old daughter that she’s not raising at the moment.  And guess who she’s claiming is the kid’s father?

Synn’s eyes widen, as Rage’s question is answer enough.

Synn: Well...I can see why that bit of information would be distracting.  I’m all too familiar with finding out about a child you didn’t know even existed.

Rage: Well, here’s the thing.  I’m not completely convinced the girl is even my kid.  Electra came up with one believable story, but...she’s lied so much in the past, I wouldn’t put it past her to tell me I’m that girl’s father when I’m really not.  I can’t believe a word she says.

Synn: Well, you know the best way to find out for sure, don’t you?

Rage shakes his head.

Synn: Get a DNA test.  I’m not going to ask for the full story, but if you don’t fully believe that she is your child, a DNA test will be the only definitive proof.  That is, if you even want to know for sure.

Rage: And that’s the thing, I really don’t know if I want to know or not.  I’ve never really wanted kids.  Finding out about some supposed long lost daughter doesn’t change that, especially not when Electra’s brother has been raising her.  I’m not about to just fuck up the good life she seems to have.

Synn nods, and he stays quiet for a moment, giving Rage a few moments.

Synn: I can understand that, and I honestly can’t tell you what to do.  Only you can decide for yourself, but if you want my honest advice?  Take some time to think it over.  Try and focus on this tour right now and defending your title, and once we get back to Las Vegas, you can decide what you want to do.  Personally, I think you should most definitely get a DNA test just to be sure, but whether or not you want to be a part of that little girl’s life is entirely up to you.

Rage buries his head in his hands, grumbling to himself.  

Rage: Fuck my life!  Why does this shit have to happen to me?!

“Swear jar!”

Rage nearly jumps out of his skin as Despayre and Kittie walk back up to the table.  Rage panics, thinking Despayre has heard what he just told Synn, but Kittie shakes her head, reassuring him otherwise.  He breathes a sigh of relief as Despayre sits next to Synn.

Despayre: Whatcha guys talking about?

Rage: It’s nothing Despy.

Despayre looks down at Angel and smiles.

Despayre: Angel said you two were talking about your daughter!  When are we going to meet her?!

Everyone’s jaws drop, and Rage just stares at Despayre.  He glares at Kittie, but she shakes her head, insisting she didn’t say a word.

Rage: Who told you?!

Despayre: Angel did!  She has a teddy-bear protector and he found out through the grapevine!  Of course teddy-bears would be in the know about these things!

Synn and Kittie can’t help but share a quick chuckle, but Rage is not at all happy, especially now that Despayre knows his secret.  And anything that Despayre knows is NOT a secret for long.

Rage: Great.  This is juuuuust great!

Rage then shoves himself away from the table and storms off without another word.  Despayre quickly looks to Kittie and with a bright and innocent smile, asks his next question.

Despayre: Does this mean that she’s going to be the flower girl at your wedding?!  Boy, I’d hate to be the one to break Melody’s heart with that!

Kittie lets out another laugh but she looks in the direction Rage went, a worried look soon appearing on her face.  Only time will tell how this whole situation will play out, but one thing is for sure.  Now that Despayre knows, it won’t be long before everyone else in the Seven Deadly Sins finds out as well.

And that won’t make for a very tolerable Rage…

---

I’m starting to feel like I’m stuck on some sort of fucked up Merry-Go-Round or something.  I don’t know how to explain it, but it seems like I’m put up against one worthless challenger after another, and just when I think I couldn’t possibly be put against another shitty opponent, I’m proven wrong.  And this time takes the fucking cake!

So not only am I facing not one, not two but THREE guys with my title on the line this week, two of them I’ve already beat!  Yeah, you fucking heard me!  Two guys I already successfully defended my title against are now getting yet ANOTHER shot at my title, and fuck if I know why.  And to top it all off, my third opponent is some fucking masked German douchebag that is afraid of women.  Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with SCW these days.

This will be my fifth...Yes, FIFTH straight title defense.  I’m all for proving I can defend my title and all, and I think I’ve done a pretty damn good job at that every fucking week, but let me tell you all, nobody and I mean NOBODY better say shit about being a good fucking champion until they’re defending their title in practically every fucking match.  Not even the Roulette belts are defended this much, and those titles SHOULD be defended every week!

So, who are my lucky opponents this week?  Matt Spears...ya know, the guy I beat last month?  Yeah, him.  

Kain...who I just beat at Summer XXXTreme, and who has YET to win a fucking match since he’s been back.  Fucking loser if I ever saw one.

And Lord Raab.  The “Masked German Monster” that’s fucking afraid of women.

Seriously?  THESE are the best you can come up with?!  I’m about ready to throw in the fucking towel because I’m fucking sick of doing this shit over and over and over again.  I really have no desire to face any three of these assholes.  But, hey, if I have to beat the three of them to keep my title, then I guess I won’t complain.

Matt Spears...how the fuck did you manage to get another shot?  Have you even been around since I whooped your ass, because I haven’t really seen much of anything since then.  Yet, here you are being given another opportunity to take my title away from me.  Like I said before, it ain’t gonna happen, Matt.  So, if ya got your hopes up, they’re about to come crashing down.

Ya know, I hope once you fail at this shot on Sunday, that Mark and Christian finally realize you’re not worth the opportunities you’re being given and they send ya down to the bottom of the barrel where you belong.  And don’t even THINk of entering the battle royal to decide the next challenger, because ya sure as shit don’t stand a chance at winning that either.  Unless you’re a glutton for punishment, I’d just give up if I were you.  And good luck getting past Kain and Raab, because from where I’m standing, you’re the weakest link in this equation.

And Kain...Fuck my life, why do I have to deal with you again?!  Are you still up on that high horse you rode in on, even though you’ve lost all four matches since you’ve been back?!  Yeah, four.  And this Sunday is about to become five.  Shit, I’m surprised you’re even still here, Kain.

Haven’t you suffered enough embarrassment?  Haven’t you put up with enough losses to deal with anymore?  We all know that when you lose, you tuck your tail between your legs, and cry off like the bitch you are.  You’re a sore loser if I ever met one, but I’m sure you don’t believe it in that delusional head of yours.  The past speaks for itself, Kain.  And this Sunday, it’ll be no different.

I’m really hoping that after this Sunday I’ll never have to deal with your bullshit again.  I’m praying with everything that I fucking have that this loss will be the nail in your coffin and finally get you to see that you just can’t hack it in SCW anymore.  I hope that it will prove once and for all that MY Internet Championship is staying right where it is and that you will NEVER hold this title ever again.  You’re not the King of Kings, Kain.  Face it and move the fuck on, because people just don’t fucking pay attention to you, Kain.  Your career is dead.  Plain and simple.  Go back to being a father to your kids and a husband to your wife, because that’s all you’re good for now.  

And then we have Raab.  Lord Raab.  One half of The Monstimals- the worst fucking named tag team in the history of tag teams.  Seems like all you have to do is just say you’re interested in a fucking title and, BOOM, ya get a shot.  Either that, or ya did what Kain probably did and blew Christian Underwood under the table.  At least we KNOW you’re into that sort of thing, since you’re married to that freak you call a husband.  

Raab, let me make one thing very, very clear to you.  You may want the Internet Title.  You may say that you’re not going anywhere until you’ve held all the titles in SCW, but as long as I’m around, you’re not winning the Internet Championship.  You’re gonna be in SCW for a very long time if ya go by that logic, because regardless of what people say, you and your fucked up husband aren’t anything to be intimidated by in SCW.  If ya ask me, you’ve just squeaked by on luck all the time and it pisses me off when people make ya out to be this huge threat all the time.

I’m not afraid of you Raab.  I never have been, and I never fucking will be.  I don’t give a shit what may or may not have happened to you in your past, but the fact that you’re afraid of women just proves how fucking weak and pathetic you are.  Don’t parade yourself around claiming to be some sort of fucking monster when you can’t even be in the same fucking room as a woman.  You’re a joke, Raab.  Always have been and always will be.

When I hear the name Lord Raab or I see your face, I just fucking laugh.  I don’t cower in fear like people think I should.  I don’t increase my training because I’m afraid you’ll beat me.  No.  I go about my business as I always fucking do, because you’re not a threat, and you never will be.  Stick to going after the tag belts with your husband.  Or go about your business fucking in weird places like you always do, but do us all a favor and quit airing that shit, because no one wants to see that.  What ya do is your own business, Raab.  It’s just fucking creepy...and weird.  

I’m so fucking ready for Sunday to get here, because the sooner I can step into the ring and beat the fucking shit out of these three assholes, the sooner I can walk out with my title and move on to the next challenge.  Which, probably won’t be much of a fucking challenge anyway.  

It’s no secret there’s gonna be some fed-wide battle royal to decide my next challenger.  I don’t give a fuck who enters or who doesn’t.  All I’ll be paying attention to is who wins it, because they better be worth a fucking damn.  But if things go the way I expect them to...well, I’ll save that for after that battle royal happens.

I’ve already beat six “challengers” for my title.  Two of those are about to fail their second chance and one more name is about to be added to that list.  Everyone who gets put up against the Sin of Wrath fails, and this Sunday will be no different.  I’m not ready to give up this title, and there’s not a damn thing that Matt Spears, Kain or Lord Raab can do about it.

Come on SCW...where’s the real fucking challenge?  Who’s gonna be the one to take this title away from me?

Ain’t gonna happen this Sunday.

See ya then, fuckers!

 Monday July 4th
Rage’s Home
Las Vegas, Nevada
Happy Independence Day!

When most people look at Rage, they see a monstrous, hardly ever happy, brooding asshole type.  He’s never struck anyone as one to attend, let alone host a party of any kind, but today he has other plans.  Today, he’s throwing a Fourth of July shindig at his home and he’s invited all of the Seven Deadly Sins, and those who are “honorary” Sins or Sins by association.  And while it is true that not all of the Sins are American, that simply didn’t matter.  

With just about an hour to go until everyone is scheduled to start arriving, Rage and Phil are in the kitchen, making sure all the food is prepped and ready to be cooked.  Kittie and Maddie are out on the pool deck, getting a few minutes of sun in after they got that area all set up.  As Rage is getting all the burger patties seasoned, his phone, which is on the counter just a few feet away from him, starts to ring.  He rolls his eyes and lets out a growl as he chooses to ignore it.  The phone is directly next to Phil, and he glances down at it noticing the phone number that is showing on the screen.

Phil: You’re not gonna answer it?

Rage shakes his head and he places another burger patty on the sheet pan in front of him.  His phone finally goes to voicemail.

Rage: Nope.  I know exactly who it is and I’m not answering that phone any time she tries calling me.  Surprised she hasn’t gotten the hint yet.

Phil: Let me guess...That Electra chick?

Rage nods.

Rage: If she doesn’t get the hint, I’m going to end up changing my damn phone number.  I don’t know why the bitch is so fucking obsessed.

Phil: I agree that you should change your number if she doesn’t stop calling, but maybe after you find out what it is that she’s trying to talk to you about.  I mean, you tossed her out of here a couple of weeks back, but you still don’t know what it is that she wants, right?

Rage: I’ll tell you what I told Synn.  I don’t want to know what she wants, Phil.  I have a good idea what she wants, and it ain’t happening.  She’s in one of her psychotic moments where she’s got it in her head that we’re meant for each other or some shit, but we’re not.  That ship sailed a long time ago.

Phil nods for a few moments and Rage turns and heads over to the refrigerator.  He opens the door and places the sheet pan inside the fridge and takes out a bottle of beer.  He pops the top off as he turns back around to face his brother, immediately noting the curious look on Phil’s face.

Phil: How long were you two together anyway?  It had to be long enough to give her a reason to think it would last.

Rage takes a big gulp of his beer and shrugs.

Rage: Fuck if I remember, honestly.  Couldn’t have been any longer than a year, but that was ten years ago, Phil.  She wanted more out it than I did.

Phil: So what happened?  Sounds like you dumped her and she didn’t like it.

Rage: Shit just got complicated.  I joined the Sins.  She didn’t like it and kept trying to talk me out of leaving, but I wouldn’t do it.  Then more shit happened around the time that GXW closed down and I couldn’t deal with it anymore.

Phil is about to respond, but the two of them turn their attention to the pool deck outside where they hear Kittie and Maddie laughing about something.  Rage takes another drink of his beer and shakes his head, only being able to imagine what the two women are laughing about.  Phil has a smile on his face, though.

Phil: What other shit happened, bro?  I mean, I know you told me before that the situation with you and Kittie is different, but aren’t you worried that the same thing could happen if she ends up wanting more?

Rage stares at Kittie outside for a moment, letting himself get deep in thought about something.  Phil waits for an answer for what seems like minutes until Rage shakes his head and looks back to his brother.

Rage: Definately not.  Like I said, everything that happened is in the past, and I’d like to keep it in the past.  And this thing with Kittie is different, but it’s not going to mirror the relationship I had with Electra.  I can guarantee that one.

Phil: How can you guarantee that?

Rage is about to answer, but when the door leading to the pool deck opens, he goes quiet as Kittie and Maddie walk inside.  Phil, however, is still staring at him, waiting for an answer.  Rage shakes his head.

Rage: Don’t worry about it.  I’ll tell you later.

Phil shrugs as Madde walks up to him and he wraps his arm around her waist and then leans down, giving her a quick kiss.  Kittie, on the other hand just stands next to Rage as she playfully elbows him in the side, eliciting a roll of the eyes and a growl from him.

Kittie: Don’t worry about what?  What were you two talking about?

Rage shakes his head.

Rage: Quit being so damn nosey, Kittie.  You don’t see me asking what you and Maddie were out there laughing about, do you?

Maddie smiles and lets out a laugh.

Maddie: Oh we’ll tell you if you really want to know, but somehow I think that you wouldn’t exactly like to hear about girl talk, now would you?

Rage quickly shakes his head and finishes off his beer before he tosses the empty bottle in the recycle bin.

Rage: Hell no.  That’s the reason I don’t ask!

Kittie: Don’t be such an asshole, peanut head.  Everyone should start getting here soon and need I remind you that this was your idea to begin with.  So you should be a nice host for once in your life.

Rage: Maybe I will if you don’t give me a reason to be an asshole.

Kittie sneers at Rage and Maddie looks up at Phil.

Maddie: Are you sure he’s your brother?  You’re so much sweeter than him!

Kittie and Phil both let out a laugh.

Kittie: Rage doesn’t know how to be sweet, but that’s okay.  He can be an asshole all he wants.  It’ll just give me more reason to be a bitch right back to him.

As Kittie laughs again, she’s suddenly taken by surprise as Rage reaches down and picks her up, tossing her over his shoulder.  Phil and Maddie are equally surprised and they watch as Rage heads towards the door leading to the pool deck.

Kittie: What the fuck?!  Put me down, Rage!

Rage: Oh I’ll put you down, alright!  I’m going to drop your ass right in the pool!

Kittie continues kicking and screaming as she tries to get Rage to put her down.  Maddie just watches on, shocked and Phil shakes his head, quietly chuckling.  

Phil: Man if this is any indication on how the rest of the day is going to do, this is going to be one chaotic day.  Now’s your chance to bail, babe, because once the others get here, I can guarantee they won’t let us leave.

Maddie shakes her head and laughs.

Maddie: I’m sure I can handle it, Phil.  How bad--

She’s cut off mid-sentence as they hear a giant splash.  They look outside to see Kittie standing on the edge of the pool, pointing and laughing at Rage who is now in the pool, a furious look on his face as he heads over to the edge of the pool to climb out.

Phil: I should have seen that one coming…

Phil lets out another laugh as he takes Maddie by the hand and the two head out to the pool as Kittie continues laughing and Rage finally climbs out of the water, though he is far from happy.

Flash Forward About An Hour…

The party is now in full swing and most every member of the Seven Deadly Sins family is gathered around the pool deck.  Phil and Maddie are enjoying some time in the pool.  Gabriel and Odette are several feet away from the pool with their one year old son, Lucas.  Shane and Fantasia are soaking up some rays in two of the lounge chairs.  Kittie and Despayre are engaged in what appears to be a sparkler fight of some sort as to re-enact one of the duels from the Harry Potter movies while Synn and Chris Shipman are seated at the large patio table under the umbrella with Theresa and Despayre’s mother and grandmother, Margaret and Victoria.  The only one noticeably absent from the party is Melody Grace, but because the bubbly Bombshell Internet Champion isn’t feeling well at the moment so it was decided she stay away and get some rest.

As Rage finishes getting the grill ready, he looks over in Kittie’s direction and nods before he steps away from the grill and heads starts heading towards Shane and Fantasia.  Both have their heads tilted back with their sunglasses on and are wearing their skimpiest swimming attire, choosing to ignore Rage’s growls to change into something different.  Specifically, Shane.  As soon as Rage steps in front of the two, he blocks the sunlight from over Shane, and the now annoyed Sin of Pride lets out a sigh.

Shane: Oi!  Move ya big arse from out of in front of my sunlight.

Rage lets out a laugh.

Rage: Go put on something other than that skimpy as speedo and maybe I will!

Shane: Just because I look better in a speedo than you ever will, doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to wear one.

Rage rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

Rage: Whatever.  You mind if I borrow Fantasia for a few minutes?

Fantasia cracks a smile and she brings her head down to look towards Rage.

Fantasia: Trust me, Rage.  If you want to borrow me, you’ll need a hell of alot longer than a few minutes.

She winks at him and Shane nods.

Shane: Yeah, and that’s just for the recovery.

Rage closes his eyes and shakes his head, trying his best not to let out an annoyed sigh.  He opens his eyes again, his attention focused on Fantasia.

Rage: Yeah, I walked into that one, I know, but I need to talk to you about something.

Fantasia: Whatever you say, big boy.  I’ll be right back, love.

Fantasia stands up from the lounge chair and follows Rage a few feet away.  As Rage is about to speak, he gets a weird feeling and looks down, spotting Angel right at his feet.

Rage: Oh for God’s sake…

He takes grabs Fantasia’s arm gently and leads her towards the door leading into his house.  She raises an eyebrow and lets out an amused laugh.

Fantasia: Are you kidding?

Rage turns and looks to Fantasia.

Rage: No, I’m not!  I’m not taking any chances with that damn bear!  I swear he has a microphone or one of those stupid nanny cams hidden inside of him.

Fantasia lets out another laugh as Rage leads her inside the house, closing the door behind them.  He looks around, making sure no one is following them inside and he finally turns around to face Fantasia.  She looks a little confused, but utterly curious about Rage’s odd behavior.

Fantasia: Alright, what is going on?  I’ve known you for a long time and have never seen you act like this.

Rage: Yeah, I know.  Look, I’m going to tell you something and it’s only because I need your help with something.  You can’t tell anyone, do you understand?  Not even Shane and especially not Despy, because--

Fantasia holds her hand up, quieting him before he can continue.

Fantasia: You have my word, Rage.  Just calm down and tell me what is going on.

Rage closes his eyes and takes in a few deep breaths as he appears to be building up enough courage to tell Fantasia what he needs to tell her.  After a few seconds, he opens his eyes again, looks around one more time and when the coast is clear, he breaks his silence.

Rage: I need your help buying something for Kittie…

Fantasia cracks a smile.

Fantasia: Oh, honey, she’s really not that hard to buy for.  And as much as I love Kittie, I think our tastes may be a little--

Rage: A ring, Fantasia.  I need your help in picking out a damn ring, alright?!

Fantasia’s eyes widen and her jaw drops open.  She’s left completely speechless at hearing this revelation and Rage just stands there nodding.

Rage: Somehow I expected that to be your reaction.  I know none of you saw that one coming, but trust me...neither did I.  Are you going to help me or not, because the fewer people that know, the better, and I really have no fucking clue what to look for in a ring.

Fantasia: What...kind of ring are we talking about here?  I just need clarification because there are many--

Rage: What kind of ring do you think?!  An engagement ring!  I’m gonna ask Kittie to marry me, alright?!

Fantasia is again left temporarily speechless and Rage turns around to look outside as he hears a loud splash.  Despayre has just jumped into the pool and Kittie is walking over to sit under the umbrella for a few minutes.

Fantasia: Wow...Talk about completely unexpected, but I guess early congratulations are in order.  I’d be honored to help you choose the ring, though.

Rage: I still have to ask and she has to say yes, but thanks.  And like I said...you can’t tell anyone.

Fantasia: Your secret is safe with me.

Just as Fantasia says this, the patio door opens and Gabriel walks inside, heading towards the refrigerator.

Gabriel: Secret?  What secret?

Rage quickly turns his attention to Gabriel as the Sin of Greed opens the refrigerator and takes out a cold beer.  He pops the top off and stares at Rage, waiting for an answer and wanting in on whatever secret the big man is keeping.  But Rage shakes his head as he walks over to the refrigerator and takes out the meat that needs to be put on the grill.

Rage: Nothing.  There’s no secret.

Gabriel: That’s not what I just walked in on.  Come on.  I can keep a secret better than anyone.

Rage stares at Gabriel and just blinks slowly.

Rage: Sorry, magic man.  I’m not willing to test that theory out.  Come on.  I’m about to start the food.

Gabriel looks towards Fantasia, almost asking her with his eyes, but the red-haired beauty just shakes her head and chooses to keep her promise to Rage.  Gabriel shrugs and the three of them head back outside to join the others.  As Rage walks back up to the grill and sets the sheet pan down and his attention is drawn to the pool where Phil is yelling and splashing about like a madman as he keeps going under and then popping back up.

Rage: What the hell is going on?!

Synn is staring towards the situation in the pool and he answers that question very calmly.

Synn: Oh don’t worry.  Joshua is just playing Jaws.

The group shares a laugh as Phil pops back up one final time and leaps a distance away, presumably from Despayre, and he grabs on to the side of the pool.

Rage: Hey Phil!  Despy did the whole Jaws act on you, huh?!

Phil coughs a little bit and glares at his brother.

Phil: Ya think?!  I wouldn’t have cared but he BITES!

Despayre suddenly pops up next to him and with a smile replies.

Despayre: Yeah!  And so does Jaws!

Phil just seems dumbfounded but Rage turns his attention to Synn with a shrug.

Rage: That actually makes sense…

Everyone nods and shares another laugh as Rage opens the grill and watches as Fantasia joins Shane once again.  He watches carefully, making sure she doesn’t let Shane in on his plans and when everything stays calm and relaxed, he starts placing the burgers, bratwurst and hot dogs on the grill.  Despayre climbs out of the pool and heads over to Rage just as he closes the top on the grill.

Despayre: What are we having?!

Rage: Burgers, brats and hot dogs.  Which do you want?  I’ll let you grab a plate when the first one is done.

Despayre thinks for a moment and then his face lights up.

Despayre: I want Steak!

Everyone lets out a laugh, but Rage just shakes his head.  He’s about to tell Despayre that steak isn’t one of the choices, but he gets another idea instead.

Rage: A burger it is.

Despayre shakes his head.

Despayre: No, I said I want Steak!

Rage: Burgers are steak in ground form.  So...you’re getting a burger then.

Despayre goes to say something, but he stops and thinks for another moment.

Despayre: ….Oh.  Well in that case, I’ll take a hot dog!

Despayre then skips away, heading over to join Gabriel, Odette and Lucas and Rage just shakes his head again.  He lets the meat continue cooking and he heads for the door and heads back into the kitchen to start bringing out more of the food.  Once he’s inside, his attention is drawn to his cell phone on the counter.  It’s ringing again, and considering everyone else is outside on the patio, he knows that it has to be Electra trying to call him once again.  He lets in continue ringing as he gathers plates and eating utensils, setting them down on the counter before he grabs a few things out of the refrigerator.  Eventually, the call goes to voicemail once again.  He takes one last look at his phone before he heads back outside with the plates in hand.  

Just as he walks outside a rocket comes flying right at his head!  He ducks just in the knick of time and the rocket zooms up and just above his house and when Rage looks in the direction that it came from, who does he spot with the lighter right next to him?

Angel…

Rage looks around for Despayre and he sees him on the opposite side of the pool with Gabriel, Odette and Lucas, meaning he was nowhere near close enough to be able to light that rocket.  Everyone else is staring at Rage and he just growls and shakes his head.

Rage: One of these days I’ll figure out how that damn bear does that shit…

Kittie: Good luck with that, peanut head!

Everyone lets out a laugh as Rage sets the plates down on the patio table and disappears back inside once again without trying to wrap his head around Angel’s latest shenanigan.

---

Friday July 8th
Reno, Nevada

Let’s flash forward to later on in the week.  After a successful 4th of July party and a few days off to relax and recover, it’s time to get down to business.  With just two days to go until Climax Control and his next title defense scheduled against Markus Reeves, Rage has to focus on stepping into the ring with perhaps his toughest challenge to date.  And while Rage has shown no ounce of concern about facing Markus Reeves, Synn and Kittie have tried to get Rage to at least see this match for what it is.

A very big challenge.  Quite literally.

It’s later in the evening here in Reno and not long after arriving and getting checked into their hotel room, Rage searched around the area until he found a local gym to work out in.  It wasn’t anything special, but it was a good enough spot to start getting ready for his match and get away from the others for an hour or two.

But now it’s back to the grind, and time to head back to the others and head out for dinner.  He has his duffel bag slung over his shoulder as he’s heading out of the doors to get a taxi to take him back to the hotel.  Just as he does, his phone rings inside his pocket.  He lets out a growl as he reaches into his pocket and takes out his phone, but instead of checking to see who is calling, he just assumes it’s Kittie and he immediately answers the call.

Rage: Kittie, I’m on my--

Electra: I’m not Kittie, but it’s about time you answered one of my calls.

Rage immediately frowns, realizing what he’s done.

Rage: Shit...Goodbye, Electra.  I’ve got nothing to say to you.

Electra: Wait!  Rage, please don’t hang up!

Rage: How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not interested in anything you have to say?  Nothing you say is going to magically get me to change my mind and come running back to you, Electra.  So do us all a favor and just give up already.

Rage spots a taxi down the street and raises his hand, hailing him over.  The taxi pulls up next to him a few minutes later and Rage opens the back door, tossing his duffel bag into the back seat.

Electra: That’s not at all what I’m trying to do, Rage.  I swear to you, it’s not.  There’s something I need to talk to you about if you would just listen to me.  I’m not trying to win you back or anything.  Trust me, I got the picture loud and clear when you powerbombed me through that table.

Rage: If you want to talk, then you better make it quick because I’m about to get into the back of a taxi and head back to my hotel.

Electra: This isn’t something I would like to talk to you about over the phone, Rage.  It’d be better in person.

Rage shakes his head, not that Electra can see him doing so.

Rage: Fuck that.  You can either tell me over the phone, or not at all.  It’s your choice…

Electra: Please, Rage.  I’m not far from Reno right now.  I can meet you later for some coffee or something.

Rage: No.  Fuck no.  You had your chance, Electra.  Now stop calling me.

Electra: Rage, please don’t hang--

Too late.  Rage pulls the phone away from his ear, ends the call and then puts the phone back in his pocket.  He gets into the back of the taxi, tells the driver where to go and a few seconds later, the driver heads off down the road.  Once the car is far enough down the street, the sound of heels clicking against the concrete are heard and Electra Blaze appears and watches as the taxi turns down another street, and she shakes her head with her arms folded across her chest.

Electra: I wish he’d stop being so damn difficult.  Soon, Rage...Very soon.

She shakes her head again before she turns around and walks down the street in the opposite direction, and Rage is none the wiser that Electra is in the same city limits as he is.

---

Here we go again.  Before I looked at the card for the show, I was expecting to be booked in another match.  I mean, I had the week off last week so I knew damn well I was going to be involved in some kind of match.  Or, at least I hoped I was.  But I sure as shit didn’t think I’d be booked in ANOTHER title defense, because let’s face it, all the titles aren’t defended every damn week.  Usually they give the champions a fucking break between title defense, but what do you know?  They’re apparently not giving The Sin of Wrath a fucking break, are they?

Matt Spears wasn’t exactly much of a challenge.  I knew walking into that match that I would be walking out with the Internet Championship still around my waist, because Matt Spears is about as bad as Casey Williams.  But I’ve already said that, haven’t I?  

Anyway, I was hoping that my next challenger would be just that...a fucking challenge!  Actually, I was expecting my next challenger to either be Steve Ramone, Kain or both, because the title defenses around here have been pretty fucking predictable lately.  I think I was expecting them to book me against Kain just to piss me off because the douchebag comes back from being gone for about nine months, declares his intentions to come after the Internet Championship, and he can’t even fucking win a match now.  SCW Bookers have had a history of giving undeserving assholes title matches, so it wouldn’t have surprised me if they actually gave Kain what he wanted.  

But they went a little different route.  Don’t get me wrong, they still booked me against an asshole who has done nothing to deserve this title shot, but I think they’ve realized that Kain doesn’t deserve shit right now, so they just gave that title shot to someone else.  

Someone by the name of Markus Reeves.

Are you fucking serious?  Markus Reeves?!

So, let me get this straight.  Markus has had, what, three, maybe four matches here in SCW?  His last match was against that Australian rookie, Lettuce...Spinach...Whatever the fuck his name is...and he lost!  Markus fucking lost to that Aussie kid, and what do they give him in return?  

A shot at my title!  

Once again, I don’t fucking understand it.  I understand the guy is one big scary mother fucker, but come on!  If you want someone to have a title shot, at least give them a fucking match to earn that title shot first!  All these random fucking challengers are starting to piss me off, but you know what pisses me off more?

The fact that when these assholes get their title shots, it actually inflates their ego and they think they deserve it.  And not only that but they think they’re actually going to win the damn title!  Nevermind the fact that the champions have been busting their asses...well, MOST of them anyway...and these assholes walk around with an undeserved self-entitlement.  

Fuck off with that shit!

I know Kittie and Synn have been trying to get me to see what they see in this Markus Reeves guy.  Guy is bigger than me, and sure, that’s saying something, but that don’t really mean shit in my eyes.  Casey Williams is bigger than me, too, and look at how much of a “challenge” he is?  For those of you that are too fucking stupid to realize it, he’s not.  So, Markus Reeves really won’t be that much of a difference.

I don’t like to sit back and show any sign of weakness when it comes to these mother fuckers that Christian and Mark put me up against.  Does that mean I underestimate them or take them lightly?  Fuck no.  I walk into every fucking match with the same damn attitude and mindset.  To beat the fucking shit out of the asshole, or assholes, I am up against and walk away with another win.  And sure, sometimes I’ve walked away on the losing end, but that ain’t gonna be the case this time around.  Ain’t gonna happen anytime soon, because I plan to hold on to the Internet Championship for a while.

But I’m sure Markus Reeves is watching this, thinking otherwise.  He’s probably smiling or some shit thinking he actually stands a chance against me, but he really doesn’t.  I’m sure he thinks he’s entitled to a title in SCW, but fuck if that title is MY Internet Championship.  He can fall back in the ranks and go after the Roulette Championship, because the Internet Championship is mine and so far, there ain’t a single person that has proven worthy of holding this title but me.

Not even Steve Ramone, who just so happens to be on color commentary this week.

I can already smell Steve trying to stick his fucking nose in this match, but I say let him fucking try.  Synn and Kittie will be standing right on the outside and Synn will have no fucking problem keeping him the hell back and if he knows what’s good for him, his fucking goons will stay back, too.  I’ve already been ambushed by those pussy bitches once before, and it’ll probably happen again, but the more they get involved, the more they piss me off.  

And if any of them do anything to cost me this damn match, they’re going to wake the fucking beast, and trust me...they don’t fucking want that.

This week, this match is between me and Markus Reeves.  Steve Ramone can keep his ass behind that commentator’s table, making his fucking innuendos and lame ass jokes all he wants, but he’s irrelevant in this one.  I’m not going to allow myself to get distracted by his bullshit, because my sole focus is beating Markus Reeves and walking away with the Internet Championship still around MY waist.  Where it fucking belongs.  Where it’s going to stay for a long, long, LONG time.

Dmitri, Casey Williams and Matt Spears have all failed in recent weeks.  Markus Reeves will fail this Sunday and whenever Steve Ramone gets his chance, he’ll fucking fail, too.  That’s all there is to it.

The Sin of Wrath will STILL be the SCW Internet Champion.

Markus Reeves...See ya Sunday, mother fucker!

 Sunday May 8th
Okayama, Japan
After Climax Control

You know what they say about first title defenses, right?  They’re the most important, because it supposedly shows what kind of champion you are.  The outcome of that first title defense will prove if you have what it takes to be a champion and deserve the belt you have in your possession, or if you’re what people like to call a “paper champion.”  Walking into Okayama tonight, Rage thought he’d have no problem tonight in his match against Dmitri.  It is no secret that Dmitri has been preoccupied and focused on his ongoing feud with Casey Williams, so Rage only assumed that would work to his advantage.

Well, Rage was wrong.  Very wrong.

He might have underestimated Dmitri, or he could have just been having a completely off night.  Regardless of the reason, Rage walked into Okayama as the Internet Champion, but Dmitri would be walking out as the new champion.  It was something Rage thought he’d be a little more angry about, but...he’s, not.

In fact, he has something else on his mind entirely and he’s storming down the hall on a mission with Kittie chasing after him.

Kittie: Dude, slow down!  I know you’re pissed about losing out there, but--

Rage: I’m not pissed.

His response was calm and to the point and Kittie stopped following him for a moment with a baffled look on her face.

Kittie: Wait...what?  You’re seriously not pissed?

Rage shakes his head as he continues walking down the hall, never once turning to glance back at Kittie.  Kittie finally manages to catch up with him and tries to keep up with him.

Rage: Nope.  I’m relieved, actually.  But you’re gonna piss me off if you keep following me.  Go find Synn and Despy.

Kittie: Yeah, I don’t think so.  I want to know what you’re up to!

Kittie is about to find out the answer, as they stop right in front of the door with a sign that says “Christian Underwood” on it.  Kittie stares at the sign for a moment before she slowly turns her head and her eyes meet Rage’s calm stare and she raises an eyebrow.

Kittie: Right.  If you’re not pissed off, why are you planning on talking to Christian Underwood?  Demanding your rematch so soon??

Rage folds his arms across his large chest and just shakes his head slowly, confusing Kittie even further.  When a little smirk appears on his face, Kittie’s jaw almost hits the floor.

Rage: I’ll fill you in later, alright?  Just, please...Go find Synn and Despy so I can talk to--

Kittie starts shaking her head and a shocked look washes over her face.

Kittie: Shit...You’re about to do what I think you are, aren’t you?!  You’re going to be a fucking coward and quit?!?!

Kittie starts pulling at her hair angrily, assuming Rage is about to quit just because he lost the Internet Championship.  As Kittie shakes her head furiously and rolls her eyes, Rage lets out a laugh and has to grab a hold of her shoulders to snap her out of it.  He shakes her a little bit, getting her attention back on him.

Rage: Would you relax, Kittie?!  I’m NOT quitting!  Not even close!

Kittie is about to continue her momentary tirade, but before she can get a word out in response, Christian’s door opens and the Co-Owner himself appears in front of them.

Christian: What on earth is going on out here?!  Would you two be so kind as to take your lover’s spat somewhere else?  I’m trying to finish up a few things here.

With his hands still on Kittie’s shoulders, Rage turns his attention to Christian Underwood.

Rage: It’s not a lover’s spat…

Christian: Oh, really?  So, is this your mating ritual then?  Whatever it is, take it somewhere else.

Kittie swats Rage’s hands away from her shoulders and takes a step back.  Rage just lets out an amused huff as he turns his full attention to Christian.

Rage: Look, I came here to talk to you about something.  Kittie’s just freaking out thinking it’s about something else when it isn’t.  She was just about to head off to find Synn and Despayre.  Right, Kittie?

Kittie frowns as Rage turns his attention to her, and Christian even glances in her direction.  She opens her mouth to shout something in protest, but she’s left speechless.  Eventually she rolls her eyes and waves off Rage as she turns to walk away.

Kittie: Whatever.  Do whatever the hell you want, Rage.  Not like you ever listen to me anyway.

Rage just lets out a chuckle as Kittie finally turns and walks away, mumbling under her breath.  When she finally turns around another corner, Rage is able to turn his full attention back to Christian, though the expression the bosses face is not a very happy one.

Christian: Make it quick, Rage.  I’ve got things to do before leaving the arena.  Though I suspect I know what all of this is about.

Rage: You might.  But you might not.  I have a feeling you are thinking what Kittie’s original thought was.

Christian: Whatever her first thought was, I’m assuming you’re here to demand your rematch.  It’s what usually--

Christian’s voice trails off as Rage slowly shakes his head.  Now intrigued, Christian crosses his arms and raises a curious eyebrow at the Sin of Wrath.

Christian: No?  Well, color me surprised.  If that’s not what this is about, then by all means, tell me what is.

Rage: I want what I’ve been busting my ass towards for the last few months, and you know what that is.

Christian shakes his head.

Christian: I’m afraid I don’t quite understand…

Rage: The World Heavyweight Championship!  I want a shot at J2H and the title, Christian!  I’ve had to sit back and watch guys who haven’t done shit to deserve it, get their shots and now I want mine.

Christian takes in a deep breath, but he lets out a long sigh.  He shakes his head slowly.

Christian: I’m afraid it’s not that simple, Rage.  You can’t just come here demanding shots and expect to be handed one.  Not to mention, you just lost the Internet Championship to Dmitri.  You really expect me to give you a World Heavyweight Championship match right off the bat?  It doesn’t work that way.

Rage rolls his eyes and lets out a frustrated growl.

Rage: Bullshit!  How many times has Casey Williams lost one title shot, only to be given a different one the next week?!  How many fucking times have we seen other guys lose one title and get a World Heavyweight title shot the next?!  Don’t feed me that bullshit!

Christian frowns as Rage continues to raise his voice.

Christian: I’m going to urge you to lower your voice, Rage.  Should you choose not to, I just might be tempted to book you in a thong mud pit match against Jamie Dean…

Just as Christian says this, Jamie Dean is walking past and he stops right in his tracks, and Rage goes stone cold silent.

Jamie: Oh, please do!

Jamie winks at Rage, but Rage just lets out a growl, trying to intimidate him and Jamie just shakes his head.

Jamie: One day, big boy...One day…

Jamie then heads off down the hall, returning to minding his own business.  Rage turns his attention back to Christian in the hopes of getting the title match he has been wanting.

Christian: Anyway...as I was saying.  The situation at the moment is different, Rage.  We’re just a few weeks away from Into The Void, and I’m sorry, but the match against Connor Murphy tonight was James’ final one before he faces Despayre at Into The Void.  Despayre is the next challenger for the title.  Not you.

Rage narrows his eyes angrily and Christian can see him ball his hands into fists at his side.

Rage: Look, I don’t have the Internet Championship anymore, and you know as well as I do that I deserve a shot at the damn title!  More so than Connor or TNA ever have!

Christian: I am not denying that you’ve been working hard to earn a shot, and trust me, you’ll get one eventually, but you’re just going to have to wait your turn, Rage.  Are you really going to stand here and continue trying to convince me that you deserve the next shot more than Despayre?

Rage stands there and lets out a frustrated huff, but he doesn’t respond.  At least not right away.  He tries to think of a response to Christian, but he can’t, and Christian just nods.

Christian: Exactly what I thought.  Besides, think of it this way, if I were to give you a title shot against James next week, and if you were to defeat him and become the new World Heavyweight Champion, you’d be moving on to defend that title against Despayre at Into The Void.  Is that something you’d really like to see happen?

Rage: Why does everyone have to use Despayre against me?!  I’m not going to just forget about the World title just because Despayre has a shot at it and very well could win it.

Christian: Well...then you’re just going to have to accept the fact that should Despayre defeat J2H at Into The Void, and we end up giving you your opportunity at the title, you may end up facing Despayre at some point.  That is...if you don’t have the Internet Championship at the time.

Rage raises a confused eyebrow as he stares at Christian and lets out a slight laugh.

Rage: Umm...Hello?  Weren’t we just talking earlier about how I lost to Dmitri tonight?  I don’t have the Internet Championship anymore and Casey Williams gets to gloat about his feud with Dmitri being for the title now…

Christian holds up a single finger and shakes his head, and this confuses Rage even more.

Christian: Not so fast, Rage.  You see, I happened to be watching your match tonight, and I saw when Casey Williams interfered.  Now, whether or not his interference actually caused you to lose is besides the point, but the fact still remains that he did interfere so he’s not going to get his way so easily.

Rage: That’s great and all, but...What does that have to do with me?

Christian: Oh come now, Rage.  I thought you smarter than that.  You have a rematch clause for the Internet title, and I’m going to give it to you.  In two weeks time in Osaka.  It’s the final Climax Control before Into The Void in Tokyo, so I find it the appropriate time.

Rage closes his eyes and holds up his hands, almost acting as if he doesn’t want his rematch.

Rage: Whoa, whoa, whoa...I didn’t ask for a rematch against Dmitri.  I wasn’t planning on asking for a rematch, either.

Christian: That would be a big mistake, Rage.  I understand your desire and determination to get a shot at the World title, but would you really deprive yourself of such an opportunity?  Think logically here.

Rage: Oh I am being logical, Christian.  I’d just like to know the real reason you people keep denying me the title shot that I been working towards and instead keep throwing the Internet Championship at me.  First you did it at Blaze of Glory when you out of the blue put me in the match to fill the vacant title when I had expressed my interested in the World title but just said that I didn’t want to go out there and be like every undeserving fucker and demand a shot.  I wanted to earn it, which is what I thought I was doing!

Christian: Yes, but--

Rage holds up a finger, cutting Christian off before he can finish that thought.

Rage: There’s no damn buts about it! I know Connor and TNA challenged J2H to the damn title, but you guys have done surprising shit before and you coulda done the same thing for Blaze of Glory, but you didn’t.  I’m getting screwed out of my chance, AGAIN, all for a title I never fucking asked for or showed interest in!

Christian: Look, Rage, the World Title situation is all tied up at the moment, and it has been for quite some time.  All we were doing when we booked you in that four way match at Blaze of Glory was giving you a title match we knew you deserved.  I doubt you would have rather been booked in what others may have considered a random match against someone else.

Rage: No, but Sam and I would have been in the finals for that damn Blast From The Past tournament match had Lucy Seraphina not did what she did!  It’s bullshit all around and you know it!  If I’m stuck with the damn Internet Championship, I won’t get my shot at the World Heavyweight title.  And that just really fucking pisses me off.

Christian closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath, clearly becoming frustrated with Rage.  He holds up his hands and finally re-opens his eyes.

Christian: You know, I really thought that once Despayre won the Blast From The Past tournament match and earned his shot at the title, you would have backed off a little bit.  I’m surprised you haven’t, because everyone, myself included, has been waiting for Despayre t get this chance, and actually accept it, for a very long time.  Seems to me you’re being a little bit selfish here.

Rage’s eyes widen in surprise and he’s left at a loss for words.

Christian: Whether you want your rematch in two weeks or not doesn’t matter, because that’s when you’re getting it.  If you want to hold yourself back while you wait for a shot at the World Heavyweight Championship, that is up to you.  But, fair warning, should you lose against Dmitri again, it may be quite a while before you see that title shot you’ve been working so hard towards.  You’ll have to earn it all over again.  Think about that.

Rage: This is--

Christian: Enough!  We’re through discussing it, Rage.  Perhaps you should do the right thing and try to be supportive of Despayre getting this shot at Into The Void.  That young man has been like family to you for a long time and, frankly, I think what you’re trying to get me to do is deplorable.

Rage tries to speak again, but Christian raises his hand and silences him before he can get another word out, and just when it looks like Christian is going to speak up again, he steps back into his office and closes the door right in Rage’s face!  Rage stands there, shocked for a few moments, before he runs his hand over his head, narrows his eyes and lets out a frustrated growl.  He turns and walks away a few moments later, now left to consider everything that Christian Underwood had said to him.  

---

June 22nd, 2015
Boston, Massachusetts
Exact Location: Unknown


The Cadillac sedan belonging to Rage’s childhood psychiatrist, Dr. Acklund, pulls into the empty parking lot of what appears to be an old run down abandoned building.  Windows are broken out on several of the floors and No Trespassing signs are posted all around the building, but that doesn’t stop the car from pulling up to the building.  Dr. Acklund is still behind the wheel, having been ordered by Rage just a short while ago to follow his directions.

The moment Dr. Acklund pulls his car into the parking lot of the building, he knows exactly where Rage has taken him, and the significance of the location.  This building was home to the pediatric psychiatric ward where Dr. Acklund treated Rage as a child.

Dr. Acklund: W-why did we come here?

Rage turns in the passenger seat and glares at Dr. Acklund with a malicious look in his eyes.

Rage: You losing your memory in your old age, Doc?  Don’t you recognize this place?

Dr. Acklund nods and he grips the steering wheel nervously.  He doesn’t want to be here, that much is clear.

Dr. Acklund: Of course I recognize this place, Jake.  I just don’t understand why...we need to come here...after all these years.

Rage: Get out of the car.

A look of surprise crosses over Dr. Acklund’s face.

Dr. Acklund: I’m sorry, what?  Why do I--

Rage: JUST GET OUT OF THE FUCKING CAR OLD MAN!

Dr. Acklund nearly jumps out of his skin and he does as he is ordered, as quickly as he can.  And given his frailty, it isn’t fast enough for Rage’s liking.  Rage follows behind him, stepping out of the passenger side and walking around the car, joining Acklund at his side and he looks at the building he called home for so many years.

Rage: I brought you here because I had a feeling you’d try and pull the memory loss bullshit while I question you.  So, what better place to jog your memory than where it all started, doc?  Does this all sound good to you?

Dr. Acklund stares at the building, almost terrified at what might lay in store for him.  He hadn’t seen Rage in quite some time, true, but he was all too familiar with what he was like as a child.  And from the looks of it, nothing had changed.

Dr. Acklund: I-I-I’ll tell you anything you want to know….anything I remember.  Just please...don’t take me inside that place.

Rage: Why not, doc?  Doesn’t it hold some good memories for you?  I know it does for me.

 
Rage lets out a maniacal laugh and shakes his head, and Dr. Acklund doesn’t look any less terrified.  His life begins to flash before his eyes, as he thinks that Rage just might kill him soon.

Dr. Acklund: Look, Jake, you don’t understand how sorry I am for everything you were put through--

Rage: Sorry, my ass!  Start walking, doc.  You might be old and have brittle bones, but that won’t stop me from dragging your ass inside if I need to!

Dr. Acklund lets out a sigh and nods.  He slowly starts walking towards the entrance to the building with Rage walking slowly behind him.  Once they make it to the door, a large deadbolt is seen.  Dr. Acklund tries to turn around thinking there is no way for them to get inside, but Rage grabs a hold of his arm, holding him back, and with one powerful kick, breaks the door open.  Acklund shakes his head and is forced to walk inside, and Rage doesn’t need to tell him where to go.  They walk down a couple flights of stairs to the lower level where the pediatric ward used to be.

Dr. Acklund: Okay.  We’re here.  I told you I would answer any questions you have, but we didn’t really--

Rage: Yes, we did have to come here, doc.  I had to bring you here, because I want to know why...Why the fuck was I sent here?!  Why did I have to live the rest of my childhood in this hell hole?!

They stand in the hallway, just near where the nurses station used to be.  The ugly old wallpaper is peeling in several places and the counters and doors are lined with dust.  Despite all that, Rage can see how this ward used to look in it’s “glory” days.  He’ll never forget it.

Acklund closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath as he prepares to tell Rage everything he wants to hear.

Dr. Acklund: You have to understand, Jake.  You were a very troubled little boy.  Regardless of the circumstances surrounding when you were brought here, you would have ended up here eventually.

Rage laughs and shakes his head.

Rage: Bullshit!  I was troubled, yeah, but not enough to warrant being institutionalized!  I could have accepted being put up for adoption or some shit like that, but this place...it ruined my fucking life!  And I want to know why!

Dr. Acklund: You don’t understand.  Your father...he was desperate.  As desperate as a father could be, I suppose.

Rage: Then HELP me fucking understand, doc.  I want to know exactly what happened between you and my father.

All the anger and resentment in Rage’s voice is gone, if only temporarily.  He stares at Dr. Acklund, his eyes almost pleading him for the truth and Dr. Acklund can’t keep the truth from him any longer as the memories completely flood his mind.

******************************

Twenty-six years earlier…

A much younger looking Dr. Acklund sits behind his desk in his office.  He’s going through some paperwork, occasionally signing off on a few things before transferring the paper to another pile.  As he continues going through his work, his office door bursts open and a panicked middle-aged man rushes inside, followed by a nurse.

Nurse: Mr. Sullivan, I already told you that you need an appointment to see Dr. Acklund!  I’m so sorry, Dr. Acklund.  He wouldn’t listen.

Michael Sullivan completely ignores the nurse as he walks up to Dr. Acklund’s desk, breathing heavily and almost in tears.

Michael: This couldn’t wait, Dr. Acklund.  I...I need your help.  Now.

Dr. Acklund remains silent as he stares at Michael for a few moments.  Michael gives him a pleading look until Dr. Acklund just nods and turns his attention to the nurse.

Dr. Acklund: It’s ok, Sylvia.  I’ve got some time to speak with Mr. Sullivan at the moment.

Nurse Sylvia: Are you sure, Dr. Acklund?  I can call security if--

Dr. Acklund shakes his head.

Dr. Acklund: That won’t be necessary, Sylvia.  Mr. Sullivan, you can take a seat.

Michael quickly takes a seat as Nurse Sylvia just nods.  She turns and walks out a few moments later, closing the door behind her.  Dr. Acklund then leans back in his seat and folds his arms across his chest as Michael has his palms placed directly in front of him on the desk.

Dr. Acklund: You have my full attention, Mr. Sullivan.  Now, tell me what has got you so anxious?

Michael: I...I think you know, Dr. Acklund.  It’s my son.  It’s Jake!

Dr. Acklund: Mr. Sullivan, I’m well aware of Jake’s issues, but I told you we could discuss options for further treatment at his next appointment at the end of the week.

Michael buries his head in his hands and lets out a frustrated sigh and shakes his head.  A few moments later, he lowers his hands and stares at Dr. Acklund.

Michael: There’s nothing to discuss, Dr. Acklund.  Something is seriously wrong with Jake and whatever you’re trying just isn’t helping.  He’s evil.  There’s no other way to--

Dr. Acklund: Now, Mr. Sullivan, we haven’t exhausted all measures of treatment yet.  He hasn’t displayed any of the signs you’ve told me about in our sessions.  I have nothing to go on that would warrant having him committed.

Michael shakes his head again and he pulls at what little hair he has as beads of sweat start to drip down his face.

Michael: He’s manipulative, Dr. Acklund!  He knows why we bring him here and of course he’s going to put on a show for you.  I just can’t believe you’re falling for it!

Dr. Acklund: I’m not falling for anything, Mr. Sullivan.  I can see his manipulative ways, but until I witness first hand the potential danger you say he poses, I am using the most appropriate treatment for him.  Now--

Michael: Bullshit!  I woke up in the middle of the night last night to find him standing over me with a knife in his hand!  A KNIFE!  Now, if you tell me he’s not dangerous, than you are out of your God damned mind and incompetent at that!

Dr. Acklund seems surprised to hear this latest revelation about his young patient.  He nods as he thinks for a moment and then leans forward.

Dr. Acklund: That is troubling to hear.  Okay, I’ll have one of the nurses move up Jake’s appointment so I can make my final decision after speaking with him--

Michael shakes his head quickly, narrowing his eyes at Dr. Acklund.

Michael: No.  I can’t take the chance that you won’t do what needs to be done, Dr. Acklund.  I’m going to do whatever it takes to protect the rest of my family, and if you won’t help me...Well, I’ll just have to find someone else who will.

Dr. Acklund: Mr. Sullivan, what exactly do you think needs to be done?  Because it seems to me you have much more than just having him committed planned.

Michael nods, then reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small folded up piece of paper.  He unfolds it and it appears to be a personal check.  He sets the check on the desk then slowly slides it over to Dr. Acklund, and all of the panic and anxiety he was feeling fades.

Michael: What I’m thinking will take some time, but I’m certain after looking at that, you’ll be willing to help me do what needs to be done.

Dr. Acklund glances at the check and his eyes widen quickly before he looks back to Michael, speechless.

Michael: I’ve been informed of the financial struggles you and your wife are facing, Dr. Acklund.  Consider that a generous donation for your help…

Dr. Acklund stares at the amount on the check for a long while, thinking his decision over carefully in his mind.  He knows that should he accept, and the both of them get caught, not only would he lose his medical license, but he could be thrown in prison.  But...he also knows the struggles that he and his wife are going through at the moment, and the amount of money Mr. Sullivan is offering to him could help them out tremendously, and he looks back up to Mr. Sullivan.

Dr. Acklund: I...I’ll help in any way that I can, Mr. Sullivan.  What exactly did you have in mind?

******************************

Back to June 22nd, 2015

Rage: He...PAID you to stage that fire?  To fake my death?!

Rage stands there, frozen in shock after hearing the awful truth of what Dr. Acklund and his father had done.  Dr. Acklund’s face is painted with regret.  His eyes well up with tears as Rage turns away from him, trying to process everything he just heard, and Dr. Acklund takes a step towards him.

Dr. Acklund: It was horrible...awful...what we did.  And as a doctor, the part I played with unethical and illegal, but I was desperate and so was your father.  It may have been wrong, but I know what desperation does to a person.  He was doing what he thought was the only thing he could do to protect his family.

Rage: I WAS HIS FAMILY, TOO!  I was his son for fucks sake!

Dr. Acklund nods and takes in a deep breath.

Dr. Acklund: I know, Jake, and I’m truly sorry.  But, try and think about it from his perspective for a moment.  He was a devoted husband..a loving father.  Do you...Do you have kids?

Rage scowls at the thought, and shakes his head.

Rage: Never been much of a kid person, but what’s your point?

Dr. Acklund: My point is that because you don’t have children...because you don’t have a family you don’t know the dark place that his head went to to protect those he loved.

Rage lets out an annoyed laugh and shakes his head.

Rage: He obviously didn’t love them that much if he started abusing my little brother after all this went down!  I don’t know if it was guilt or whatever, but he took all of it out on my kid brother.  And, fyi asshole, just because I don’t have kids, doesn’t mean I don’t have a family that I’d protect.  Family doesn’t have to be blood, because if there’s one thing that I’ve learned, it’s that blood will turn it’s back on you at the drop of a time just as quickly as anyone else.  Sometimes quicker.

Dr. Acklund: I...I had no idea that happened, Jake.  I...I’m so sorry.  But for what it’s worth, I’m glad that you have some sort of family.  Everybody should have that.

Rage closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath.  He looks around the halls...the complete floor that he lived...no, suffered in for so many years and then he focuses back on Dr. Acklund.

Rage: Everybody, huh?  After everything you said about me..after everything you saw...you still think I deserve a family?

Dr. Acklund: You’re not beyond all hope, Jake.  Trust me when I say that some things...some things have a profound effect on a person.  Perhaps the thing you need is what you’ve always needed.  Not just a family, but...a child of your own?

Rage lets out a loud laugh.

Rage: Ain’t happening.  There’s no chance I’d doom a kid to have the same DNA as my family.  No, this world is better without the Sullivan family name and genes living on.  Thanks for the talk, doc.  It’s all been very...enlightening.

Rage lets out a sigh and starts walking away, brushing past Dr. Acklund.  When he passes him, Dr. Acklund turns around, looking at the back of Rage’s head.  He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out as he’s left speechless and at a loss over what to do next.  Rage leaves the old doctor there as he walks out and away from the building.  And, hopefully, away from Boston for good.

---

Friday May 20th
Osaka, Japan

Rage has had a lot of time to think about everything Christian Underwood said to him just two weeks ago.  He’s taken a lot of time to process what his boss essentially accused him of...being selfish.  Was Christian right?  Was he really being selfish in asking for a World Heavyweight title shot when Despayre would be challenging for that very title at Into The Void?

Rage doesn’t entirely think so.  But then again, if he truly is being selfish, he wouldn’t agree, would he?  

If Christian Underwood was right about one thing, though, it was the fact that Despayre has been family to Rage for quite some time.  And as much as the kid managed to push Rage’s buttons on a daily basis, life would just be a little...dull...if he weren’t a part of Rage’s life.  

So today Rage is doing something he hasn’t done in a long time, if ever.  He’s actually volunteered himself and Kittie to take Despayre out for a day in Osaka.  This is a decision that could very well come back to bite Rage in the ass.

Synn: I’m sorry, what?  You actually want to take Joshua for the day?  I had no idea you were into self-mutilation.

Rage frowns, and almost immediately starts to regret his offer, but he wasn’t about to take it all back now.

Rage: Look, I just figured you could use the break is all.  And besides, Kittie will be with us, so it’s not like I’ll have to deal with Despy by myself.

Synn: That may be true, but you can’t blame me for being a bit surprised.  I don’t think you’ve ever actually offered to take him somewhere for the day.  Usually he just bugs you until you are forced to give in.

Rage rolls his eyes, knowing that Synn has a point.

Rage: Are you really gonna make a big deal about this, Synn?  And another reason I’m doing this is because *I* am choosing where we’re taking Despy.  He’s not picking the destination this time.

Synn raises an eyebrow.

Synn: Oh really?  And just where are you taking him?

Rage: Well I had considered the aquarium--

Synn’s eyes widen at the thought of Rage even attempting that adventure again, but Rage shakes his head.

Rage: What you’re thinking is exactly why I decided against that.  I actually thought of taking him to the Osaka Castle.

Synn: That sounds like a good choice, actually.  I’m sure Joshua will enjoy that.

Despayre: I’ll enjoy what?!

Synn and Rage immediately turn their heads as Despayre has appeared before them, with Kittie just behind him.

Synn: Well, Joshua...Rage has offered he and Kittie to take you to the Osaka Castle for the day.  Just the three of you.

Despayre’s eyes light up.

Despayre: Really?!  A CASTLE?!  OH BOY!

Rage: Despy, this isn’t your typical castle, though.

Despayre: But IT’S A CASTLE!!!

And just like that, Despayre turns around and dashes past Kittie in a flash.  She doesn’t even have time to call out to him before she chases after him and Synn just watches and shakes his head in amusement.

Synn: Well...I guess he’s all yours for the day.  And remember...you asked for this.

Rage: I’m really going to regret this, aren’t I?

Synn’s only response is an amused smirk, and Rage turns and walks away a few moments later, on his way to catch up with Kittie and Despayre.

---

Despayre: THAT is the castle?!  That doesn’t look like a castle!

<img sc=”http://eligerzon.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2010/08/Blog-160-Osaka-Castle.jpg”>

Despayre, Rage and Kittie all stand in Osaka Castle Park, just facing the Osaka Castle.  Rage lets out a laugh at Despayre’s reaction and shakes his head as he turns to Kittie.

Rage: Told ya he’d say that.

Kittie: Oh shut up, goat face.

Rage snarls before he turns his attention back to Despayre.

Rage: I tried telling you that it wasn’t your typical castle, Despy.  It’s a Japanese castle and doesn’t look like the stereotypical castle from stories and movies.  Not all castles are dark and creepy looking.

Kittie stares at Rage for a few moments with a baffled look on her face, but she doesn’t say anything.

Despayre: That’s not a castle!

Rage: I’m sure once we see the inside you’ll think differently.  But let’s walk around the park for a little bit before we take the tour of the castle.

Despayre doesn’t need to be told twice as he skips off, clutching Angel tightly and Rage and Kittie follow behind him.  Rage does his best to keep an eye on Despayre so he doesn’t get lost, and he doesn’t notice Kittie is staring at him as they walk along.

Kittie: Alright, spill it.  What’s going on with you?

Rage turns his head and looks at her confused for a moment.

Rage: Huh?  What the hell are you talking about, Kittie?

Kittie: Something is going on with you.  First you actually offered to bring Despy here and now you’re just acting...weird!  You’re not all Ragey like you normally are.  You feeling okay?

Rage laughs and rolls his eyes as he turns back to look for Despayre.  He spots him and he keeps walking.

Rage: I guess I can’t win, can I?  I guess I just decided to do something different for a change and show that the kid doesn’t annoy me that much that I don’t want to do anything with him.  That and I was hoping to try and get him more interested in actually winning the World Heavyweight Championship.

Kittie lets out a laugh.

Kittie: Good luck with that.  But...why?  I mean, why were you hoping to get him more interested in that?  Everyone else has tried and pretty much failed anyway.

Rage: Because…

Kittie: Because why?

Rage stops for a moment and closes his eyes.  In his mind, he knows the answer to that question, but he doesn’t want Kittie to know the truth.

Rage: It doesn’t matter, alright?  Just drop it.

Rage keeps his eyes locked on Despayre as he darts his way through the cherry blossom trees, looking for the last of the blooms.  The last bloom was at the end of last month and all the blooms have for the most part, disappeared.  But that doesn’t stop Despayre from trying.  With the help of Angel of course!

Kittie: Bullshit it doesn’t matter.  Just tell me what is going on.

Rage lets out a sigh and then growls as he finally realizes that Kittie won’t let this go.

Rage: Because maybe if the kid actually were to show an interest in the World Title, I’d back off from wanting the damn thing myself!  You know how hard it is watch him get the shot at the title and he doesn’t even care about the damn thing, and I’m stuck going or the Internet title again?  You know how that makes me feel?

Kittie: Envious?

Kittie’s response is so quick that it catches Rage off guard.  He was about to say something else, but he nods anyway.

Rage: Yeah, pretty much.  I’m fucking jealous of Despayre.  And don’t you dare say anythign to Synn or Gabriel about this because I’ll never hear the end of it.

Kittie: Dude, you’re talking to the Sin of Envy here, remember?  I know a thing or two about be jealous and envious of others.  And, sorry, but even if Despayre were to show an interest in the World title, doesn’t mean your jealousy would just up and disappear.  As long as you’re not getting the chance for the World title, and someone else is, it’s always going to be there.

Rage: The whole situation just pisses me off to no end, Kittie.  I mean, I’m booked in this rematch for the Internet Championship against Dmitri this week, but I just don’t give a shit about this match.  I’m so distracted and obsessed with the fucking World Title that it pretty much lost me the Internet title in the first place, and it’ll probably be the damn reason I don’t win it back from Dmitri.

Kittie lets out a sigh and shakes her head.

Kittie: All my envy must be rubbing off on you a bit too much.  You better get that shit in check, Rage, because from where I’m standing, you don’t know how to use it to your advantage like I do.  You don’t know how to channel it.

Rage: Don’t even try and turn this into some kind of teaching session, because I can’t even deal with it right now.  Somehow, someway, I have to figure out how to get my fucking head focused on the Internet Championship and only the internet championship, because I have a feeling after Into The Void, Despayre is gonna be holding that belt and there’s no way I’m gonna be able to face him for the title...ever.

Kittie suddenly leaps in front of Rage, placing her hands on his chest, and stops him.

Kittie: Alright, Rage, listen to me...Do you really want Dmitri’s match against Casey Williams at Into The Void to be for the Internet Championship?  Because, if you don’t get that damn title back, that is exactly what is going to happen.  Casey is walking around all high and mighty on himself now think you practically handed him the Internet Championship!  Do you really want to give Casey Williams that kind of bragging power?

Rage: I don’t give a fuck about Casey Williams.  Even IF his match against Dmitri is for the title, he sure as shit ain’t gonna walk outta there with the title!

Kittie closes her eyes and squeezes the bridge of her nose for a moment.

Kittie: You’re not getting my point here, Rage.  It may not be the title you want but it’s a title regardless and it beats having to stand back and listen to Casey run his mouth thinking he deserves the damn shot just because he’s got some beef with Dmitri.  Snap the fuck out of it.  You’ll get your shot at the World title eventually, but in the mean time?  Just fucking focus on the Internet CHampionship.  Make that belt mean something, because it hasn’t meant shit in a long time.

Rage gets too involved in his conversation with Kittie, that it distracts him from looking after Despayre.  Despayre is nowhere to be seen at the moment, but Rage doesn’t even notice.

Rage: It’s a lot easier said than done, Kittie.  I mean, if I manage to win the Internet Championship back from Dmitri--

Kittie: When…

Rage: Alright…WHEN I win the Internet Championship back from Dmitri, I’m gonna be stuck with that damn belt because people are going to keep spouting off bullshit that it’s the only title I’ll ever fucking hold.  That’s I’m only meant for a lower tier title or some bullshit like that.  I’m sick of it Kittie.  I’m fucking sick of it.

Kittie: My God...Would you just STOP thinking about the World title right now?!  Stop giving a shit what anyone else fucking says or thinks about you and just take this for what it’s worth!  A fucking golden opportunity!  You never should have lost--

Rage suddenly holds his hand up and silences Kittie.  He looks past her, to the place where he last saw Despayre, but he doesn’t seem him.  He scans the entire area and starts to panic when he doesn’t see him anywhere!

Rage: Where the fuck is Despayre?!

Kittie: What?  Wasn’t he just back there?

Kittie spins around, looking in the direction Rage had just looked, but she doesn’t seem him either.

Rage: God damn it!  If you hadn’t been yacking away like you do…

Kittie: Whoa!  This isn’t MY fault!  You were the one watching him and you were the one who offered to bring him here!

Rage continues to scan the area and starts walking as they try to find him.

Kittie: Damn it’s a good thing you  don’t have kids!  You can’t even keep track of a twenty-two year old!

Rage: Would you shut up and just help me find--

Their search is over before it even begins as Despayre comes running from behind them, screaming!

Despayre:  AHHHHH!!!  IT’S AFTER ME!

He runs around, arms flailing(poor Angel), and Rage and Kittie turn around to see what has Despayre so frantic, when an innocent little duck waddles slowly past them, letting out a couple of “quacks”.  Rage manages to let out a laugh as they watch it turn and walk towards the water surrounding the castle.

Rage: I wonder what would happen if I had Phil buy a bunch of ducks and put them in Synn’s pool…

Kittie just smacks Rage’s chest with the back of her hand before the two of them chase off after Despayre and several people watch as they try to catch him and calm him down.

---

I’ve somehow managed to find myself in the middle of something I never fucking wanted a part of.  I’ve found myself smack dab in the middle of a feud between Dmitri and Casey Williams, and I can honestly say I have no fucking idea how to feel about it.  Whatever beef those two idiots have is between them, and I could care less if they beat the fuck out of one another or if Dmitri decides to suck every last drop of blood from Casey veins.  I simply do...not...give a fuck.

But what I do give a fuck about is this undeserved self-entitlement Casey seems to be running around with after Dmitri beat me for the title a couple of weeks ago in Okayama.  He thinks that he actually deserves the Internet Championship match against Dmitri, just because he’s feuding with the guy, but ya know what?  I’m about to rain on that morons fucking parade, because it just ain’t happening and I’ll be damned if my loss to Dmitri is going to give Casey Williams, a.k.a. The Freight Train of LAME something to gloat about.  Casey, I know you’re watching out there...well, ya might be, but let me tell ya this...Jackass, you ain’t got NOTHING to fucking gloat about and there’s not a chance in hell I’m gonna let you continue to walk around talking a bunch of shit about how you actually believe you’re going to take that belt from Dmitri.  You’re fucking pathetic, Casey, and that’s all there is to it.  I’m not going to sit here and waste my time and breath talking about you, because you’re simply not part of the equation this week.  At least, you better not be.  I’ve warned you once, and I’ll warn you again…

Stay the fuck backstage during this match, because if you don’t?  You won’t like the consequences.  The choice is yours, Casey.  Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.

I guess I should focus on the asshole that I AM facing this week.  The same asshole that lucked out and beat me for the Internet Championship on my first defense.  Hate to break it to ya, Dmitri, but you’re about to experience the same exact outcome as I did two weeks ago, because I’m not gonna let you beat me a second time, pal.  I’m not about to let you walk around this place thinking you’re actually better than me simply because you beat me when I was having an off night.  

It was a fluke, Dmitri.  A one time only thing, because, as much as I have my eyes set on a much bigger prize, I started to realize something...The internet Championship can mean just as much as the World Title.  The assholes backstage might not agree.  The world champ himself might not agree, but I can do shit with this title that not even our world heavyweight champ can do.  I can make a fucking statement as the Internet Champion and I intend to do just that.  You think I’d actually let the belt get tarnished in a feud involving Casey Williams?  Fuck that!

I don’t know what bullshit you’re spewing this week, Dmitri, but I can tell ya, I don’t really care.  I’ve tried to watch your promos in the past...tried to listen to you talk, but I just can’t get myself to get very far into that shit.  People who call me boring really need to take a long listen to the shit you say, because I’m not even sure you understand all those words that come out of your mouth.  Not only does that shit give me headache trying to understand it, but it eventually puts me to sleep.  For the love of God, Dmitri...just fucking shut up.

I’m not here for philosophy lessons, Dmitri.  I don’t care what sophisticated trash you want to throw at me next or what the next of your long line of questions is, because you seem to be fucking full of them.  Ya got all kinds of questions, Dmitri, but not a lot of answers.  Why, Dmitri?  Why is that?

I’ll tell ya why…

Because you fucking suck!  You’re boring!  You’re worthless and your words mean absolutely SHIT to me inside of the six sided ring.  Whatever shit you say has no effect on the outcome of the match.  In the end, what it boils down to is who is the more dominant force, and buddy, that ain’t you.  You can try to spill by blood...You can try to suck my blood, but Dmitri...I’m gonna stop you each and every time.  

I’m your Van Helsing, bitch.

You know who Van Helsing is, right?  I’m sure you do, considering you call yourself a vampire and all.  But let me fill you in, just in case you don’t remember.  

Van Helsing is the archenemy of Dracula…Van Helsing is a vampire hunter.  

As it stands right now, Dmitri, I wouldn’t call me your archenemy, but I sure as shit won’t have a problem calling myself that if ya don’t back off from the Internet title.  I won’t hesitate to bring a wooden stake and a shitload of garlic to the ring if it meant destroying your ass and getting my title back.  Well...maybe I won’t go that far, but I will do whatever it takes to get you to just stick to beating the shit out of Casey as often as you want, because if that is your perogative, have at it.  I’m just not gonna let you be the champion walking into that grudge match.

I made the mistake of allowing you to beat me and become the new champion, but I damn sure won’t make the same mistake twice.  I’m walking into Climax Control with nothing, but I’ll be leaving as a two time Internet Champion, and I’ll be damned if I let someone else take the belt from me.

Not you...not Casey Williams.  No one.  

I’m seeing clearer now, Dmitri.  My eyes are opened and nothing is holding me back.  

This Sunday in Osaka...The Internet Championship comes home to the Sin of Wrath.  That’s all there is to it.