Scene One
Off-Camera

“Alright then. Show me.” Luna said.

I took a deep breath. There was no turning back now. I nodded my head, handing the Key over to Luna. She couldn’t stop staring at it, transfixed, just as I had been the first time I’d laid eyes on it.

“Clear your mind,” I said. “Visualisation, connection, experience, language and peace. These are the steps you need to remember and follow. Visualise what you want to see. Connect to it, see it in your mind’s eye. Imagine you’re there. Give yourself to what you want to see.”

I placed my hand on Luna’s shoulder. I was hoping the bond we’d forged in the brief time we’d been hanging out together, both in and out of the ring, was enough to convince her that this was the right thing to do. For both her and Alex. Whilst I was at it, I was trying to convince myself of the same thing. I watched Luna’s face, steeped in concentration as she mouthed the five words of the instructions I’d given her and nodded assuringly. It was working. The red mist within the key was swirling like a storm cloud now. The Void was ready. I focused my own gaze upon it as well. If this were to work, both of us had to share the same laser focus and concentration.

“Now, in a clear voice, repeat after me… Mater et infans.”

“Mater et infans,” Luna repeated perfectly. And then, instantly, the Void took us in. No longer were we sitting in the Helix pub in Turkey. The look on Luna’s face told me we were in the right place. She was double-taking, as if this place was eerily familiar, as if unable to believe where we were. It was a quaint living room of sorts with what looked like a clean lick of paint on the walls, like it had recently been redecorated in a purple-esque colour.

And then a sound that was all-too-familiar to me could be heard. A sound that made Luna’s face drop. And moments later, the form of a fresh-faced almost…happy-looking Alexander Raven. Cradled in his arms was a baby, cooing cutely away.

It was somewhat disturbing seeing Raven this way. I don’t think I’d even seen him smile before. He always looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulder. But not this Alex. He looked at the baby in his arms like it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid his eyes on. Luna was drawn to both of them. I gently lifted my hand from her shoulder, as if it were a sign of approval for her to go to them. And go to them she did, as if she were drawn to the gargling sounds of the infant cradled in her husband’s arms.

“Is that mama? Mama and her friend Sean are here. Violet, can you say hello?” Raven said in the softest tone I’d ever heard him speak in. It was oddly disconcerting. It wasn’t right and  I instantly felt a pang of regret in my stomach. Whatever Mors had planned for him, it wasn’t going to end with a happy memory like this. I clenched my fist tightly, so much so my knuckles turned white. Veni Domum I said in my head. Just say them, for Christ’s sake, Sean. Get you and Luna the fuck out of here! But, as if it were preempted, I then felt like someone was pinching my brain. It caused me to jerk my head involuntarily and it took everything in my being not to shout out in pain. Instead, I shut my eyes tight, screwing my face up.

“Remember our deal, Mr Parker. Do not back out now!” Mors’ voice said, as if it were coming from inside me.

Get out of my head, Mors!” I said hushedly through gritted teeth so as not to alert Luna whose eyes were now filling up with tears as she leaned her head over, captivated by the baby girl before her, her tiny hands reaching up instinctively to touch her mother’s cheek. I visualised the five steps Mors himself had taught me. I channelled them and somehow, some way managed to respond inside my own head.

“This isn’t right, Mors! Whatever you’ve got planned for Raven, I’m not having any part of it!”

An eerily-pleasant surprised tone laced his response.

“Ahhh, well look at you, Mr Parker, mastering a new trick. You’ve come so far! Nevertheless, need I remind you of your contractual obligation?

“You need me more than I need you, Mors. You need me to unite the TRIAD and free you, remember, there’s no one else that can do it…for…you…”

It suddenly dawned on me. Raven. He made a deal with Mors. To get the TRIAD.

“You’re using Raven to get into the Great Illuminatus, aren’t you? That’s what this is all about? You need Luna to see what she’s missing out on to convince her of what you can give her!

“You continue to amaze me, Mr Parker. Perhaps I underestimated you. Do you not think I wouldn’t make contingencies for myself? Mr Rabenschwarz is a tortured soul and you know all too well how susceptible tortured souls are to the right amount of leverage. Now, you will stay there, you will stay with Ms Pasilno and you will do what I asked you to do. Speak those words before the time is right and it will not be just your body I will hang from my rafters.”

And then, just like that, his voice was gone. It was like I’d been underwater and suddenly resurfaced. Everything was clear again. I felt sick to my stomach though. What exactly did Raven agree with Mors as collateral for uniting the TRIAD? My hands were tied. I had to carry on.

I refocused back to the scene in front of me as Alex gently transferred little Violet from the nook of his muscled arms seamlessly into Luna’s. Seeing her face light up, cheeks tear-stained, it reminded me of my first trip into the Void, when I spoke with my late father. The feeling of incredulousness, not sure whether to believe it was real or not. Luna then turned to face me.

“Violet, we always said if we had a girl. We’d call her Violet…” her voice barely registered. Her face said it all. That what she was experiencing wasn’t real but she so wanted it to be.

“I don’t want to leave.” I heard Luna mumble to herself, planting herself in an ascendant armchair. She was completely besotted with the little girl in her arms. She looked up at me, the look of someone desperately trying to keep it together painted on her face. The expression was then repainted. Anger took over. Her brow furrowed. I hadn't seen this side of Luna before. Alex’s voice then travelled from the kitchen.

“I’ve got one of my arms elbow deep in a chicken’s ass in here, the doors open! Come in!” he yelled. The front door opened a few seconds later, not far from them. Luna’s back was to the door, but she broke her eyes away from me just for a moment, craning her head to see who it was and her face dropped a second time.

In walked another man I didn’t recognise. He looked like something out of a My Chemical Romance music video but shared a striking resemblance to Luna herself. Did Luna have a brother? He was huge, bigger than Uncle Butch and that was saying something. He looked at me and subtly nodded with a smile before making his way over to Luna, leaning down and kissing the top of her head softly before stroking Violet’s cheek gently, as if she were a porcelain doll that would shatter if he were too hard. Luna looked at me again, her head shaking from side-to-side, glassy-eyed.

“I want to go home now.” she wept as she took one last look at baby Violet in her arms. She stared at me with pleading, tear-filled eyes. I sighed, fighting my own tears back, seeing Luna’s broken, vulnerable state. What had I done?

“Veni domum.” I said quietly. Instantly, the Void spat us back out again. The scene was exactly how it had been before, as if we had never even been away. Luna looked inconsolable. The tears were still streaking down her cheeks. She shoved the Key into my chest as if it were poisonous to the touch, shaking her hands out, rubbing them on herself.

“Why the fuck would you do that to me?” she cried, her voice breaking as she battled with the adjustment of experiencing the Void. She started to hyperventilate, her chest heaving.

“Luna… I’m sorry….



Scene Two
Off-Camera

Present Day
Gateways Hospital & Mental Health Center
Los Angeles, California

It had been sometime since I’d visited Doctor Wilson for a therapy session. When I suffered my spinal injury back in 2013, they had been mandated as part of my mental recovery, deemed to be just as pivotal and vital in bringing me back from the brink as the physical rehab I had been doing. At first I rejected them, building up psychological walls so thick, they had become practically impenetrable. Over the years though, my psyche had softened. The bricks that had built this wall of protection around myself had started to loosen and slowly but surely Doctor Wilson had helped me to tunnel out. Like Andy Dufrene in the Shawshank Redemption, I was able to dig my way through a river of psychological shit and come out clean on the other side.

These days though? Things were much, much different. I hadn’t needed to speak to Doctor Wilson in months. The last time I sat here was before the TRIAD Strength Trials, still trying to figure out where I fitted in amongst all the complex pieces of that particular puzzle. The nightmares that had plagued me for decades that had come part-and-parcel with the pain I had experienced with my spinal trauma had finally been laid to rest as well. In all honesty, up until recently, this had been the freest I’d felt mentally in years. Two championships around my waist, my stock in the professional wrestling industry continuing to rise at a meteoric pace, a husband, a father.

I allowed my eyes to scan across Doctor Wilson’s office. It hadn’t changed much at all in over ten years. Doctor Wilson was a creature of habit, never straying far from his own comfortability. The same framed pictures, awards, degrees adorned the walls, the same books side, spines out, in the same exact bookshelf I remember staring at when I rolled my wheelchair in for the first time.

The door creaked open and in he walked, a broad smile spreading across his face as he clapped his own eyes on me. We were beyond the usual formalities by now. I stood up and embraced him warmly, giving him a pat on the back for emphasis.

“It’s good to see you, Sean,” he said jovially, “How are you doing?”

Doctor Wilson broke away from the embrace but still kept a hold of my arms. He looked at me, as if trying to gauge my pending answer. Once a shrink, always a shrink. There was no point in lying. He was practically a human lie detector. I knew that from experience.

“I’m not sure in all honesty. Kinda why I’m here.”

He motioned me to sit down with a beckoning hand before plonking himself down in his office chair.

“What’s troubling you? Surely being married and being a father isn’t that stressful?”

He said that last part with a smile but I knew he was just casting some bait out.

“No, no, not at all. Eve’s incredible and Amelia is just… she’s just perfect. I love being a husband and I couldn’t be happier being a dad. No, it’s something else.”

“Is the pain back? The nightmares?”

“No, thank God. I wish it were as simple as that. But no, it’s… this….”

I delved into my pocket and pulled out the Key. The pocket watch-esque device that Vita Mors had gifted me before the TRIAD Wit Trials.
 
“An old watch?”

I shook my head, not taking my eyes off it, gripping gently between the tips of my forefinger and thumb.

“This isn’t a watch, doctor. Remember the man I told you about before? The one in the mask?”

“Yes, Vita something-or-other?”

Doctor Wilson brought out his notebook and started skimming back in previously-filled pages.

“Mors? Vita Mors?”

I nodded.

“That’s the one.”

“And this… trinket… has something to do with him?”

“Yes, but.. It’s complicated.”

“Well, if it weren’t, you wouldn’t be here, Sean. Talk to me.”

I sighed deeply, puffing my cheeks out.

“I already have a deal with this guy. Two deals in fact. Whatever penance comes with it, it’s a cross I’m willing to bear and I’ve made my peace with that. But there’s someone I’ve grown quite fond of. A woman I’ve been paired with in a wrestling tournament…”

“Grown fond of, you say?” Doctor Wilson asked, a knowing tone laced through his voice. I knew what he meant and I shut it down quickly.

“No, not like that, Christ! No, she’s a friend. I’ve kinda grown a sense of responsibility for her, like a big brother. It’s her husband I’m actually worried about. He’s a wrestler too and I know for a fact he’s also caught up with Vita Mors. Only I have a really bad feeling about this. I’m not exactly drinking buddies with the guy but Luna? I don’t want her getting hurt and caught up in this.”

I lowered my head, my hands clasped around the back of my neck. I couldn’t help but see Luna’s face when I closed my eyes. Seeing her hold baby Violet, how happy she looked and then the look of resentment she cast on me afterwards.

“And what makes you think she’s going to get caught up in…whatever is going on with her husband and this Vita Mors character?”

“Because she already is,” I replied. “She and her husband, they… can’t have a family. So I showed her what life would be like if things were… different. It didn’t exactly end well. And now I’m racked with guilt. The look on her face, it’s exactly the way I looked when I saw my dad and realised it wasn’t real…”

“I’m assuming you’re talking metaphorically here, Sean?” Doctor Wilson asked, his face laced with confusion. I just stared at him. I couldn’t show him the Void. It was too big a risk. He probably wouldn’t believe me anyway.

“To be honest, I don’t know what I’m talking about anymore, doc.”

“Are you sure there’s something you’re not telling me? You haven’t talked about your dad since our first session when you were a kid and now you’re just casually dropping him into conversation and talking about seeing him like it was just yesterday, showing another person what her life would have been like? Plus, and please take this with the care it's intended, you look like hell. When did you last get a good night’s sleep?”

Good question. Since Turkey, Luna and I had barely spoken. I didn’t sleep a wink on the flight home to Los Angeles and truth be told, I had hardly been able to even close my eyes without seeing Luna’s heartbroken expression or hear Mors’ chilling voice inside my head. I stood up.

“You know what? This was a bad idea. I’m sorry, doc, I’ve wasted your time. This is beyond anything I can tell you… I… I need to go…”

“Sean, wait!”

I didn’t even give him time to catch up as I speed-walked out of Doctor Wilson’s office, meandering through the corridors and out the nearest fire exit. I pinned myself to the wall outside, feeling my heartbeat racing. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck Fuuuuck! I shouted inside my head. There she was again. Luna. That tear-stricken, heartbroken face. There was Alex Raven, the doting dad. There was Mors, his creepy mask and his haunting smile. I grabbed my cell phone from my pocket and raced my thumb through the contacts before pinning the phone to my ear.

“Hey, this is Alex, I’m not around right now. Leave me a message and I’ll get back to you!”

Shit!

“Hey, Raven…um it’s Sean, Sean Parker. Look, I know we haven’t talked a lot. Hell, I think the last time we were in the same room, you were trying to cleave my head in two in Cambodia… anyway… look, I really need to talk to you, it’s about Vita Mors… call me back, please.”


Scene Three
On-Camera

Artie, Artie, Artie. Wow, kid, look at you! All the way to the semi-finals! You’ve certainly come a long way since the start of the tournament, haven’t you? All that training with Fenris and Bobbie really is paying off. Each time you get in that ring, you surprise everyone. You’ve surpassed everyone’s expectations even daresay your own I’m betting.

I see a lot of similarities between us if I’m being honest, Artie. See, I know what it’s like to be in your shoes. To see a family member succeed in this business, to want nothing more than to emulate that, to be that. You see them in the ring, how seamless they move, how graceful yet punishing they are. You hear the roar of the crowd when their hand is raised in victory, see the glimmer of the championship belt being placed over their shoulder and think, yeah, I want that. You saw the success of Bobbie, how fiercely and bravely she fought, watched her claim the Bombshell Roulette Championship, watched her begin to cement a legacy for herself as one of the most dominant wrestlers, not just in the Bombshell Division, but in all of Sin City Wrestling. You want to be known as more than just the husband of Bobbie Dahl. You want to be known as Artie Miler, the World Heavyweight Champion.

That was me over ten years ago, Artie. A naive 15-year old kid who got in over his head and wanted to be a World Champion. I watched my Hall-of-Fame uncle bulldoze his way through every single opponent put in front of him. He had the ferocity and strength of the mighty warrior, Ajax and the grace and finesse of Achilles. I watched as he landed lung-busting Jackhammer after lung-busting Jackhammer, explosive lariat after explosive lariat, building a legacy of tournament wins, World Championships and notoriety as one of the most dominant professional wrestlers of his generation.

I watched. I watched every movement, every connection with the ropes, the way his feet moved, the way he anticipated his opponents’ every move, the way he absorbed the punishment he took and shook it off like it was nothing. And I said to myself, I want that. I said to myself, I want to be known more than just the nephew of Butch Parker. I wanted to be known as Sean Parker, the World Heavyweight Champion.

But the Moirai had woven a different thread for my destiny, much different to the one that I had fashioned for myself in my own mind’s eye. I was to endure my own labours, much like Heracles, a test to see if I could weather the storms ahead for me and prove my worth. And you know what? Turns out breaking my spinal cord and being trapped within the confines of a wheelchair for two years was probably the greatest thing that could have ever happened to me. You know why? One word. Perspective. It’s a gift, Artie. One that you haven’t been given in the lessons you’ve had with Fenris and Bobbie.

But, just like me all those years ago, the thread of your own destiny won’t lead to success at the first time of asking, Artie.

You can train under Fenris, train under the watchful eye of your wife, you can run the ropes in the training ring, take bumps the hard way all day long. You can show guts, fortitude, desire and determination, which I know you already have in spades, to get you through the odd match here and there. But at some point, all those admirable traits just aren’t enough. At some point, you have to bring something other than gritty, steely determination to a fight. Experience, guile, ruthlessness, the ability to flip the switch in your head that will help make the brutal decisions when going gets tough. To be able to find that extra gear you didn’t know you had. A killer instinct. Eyes on the back of your head. You don’t have any of these, Artie. You will, in time. But you don’t have them now. Right now, you’re greener than the grass in my front lawn and I’m in no mood for entertaining the dreams of a rookie who, the further he gets in this tournament, is venturing into deeper, darker and murkier waters that he’s not even remotely equipped to traverse.

Come Climax Control, you’re going to learn very quickly that I am not Justin Smith and I am damn sure not Konrad Raab. In fact, I am not like anything you have ever come up against before or anything you have ever seen in Sin City Wrestling and beyond. Just like the Blast From The Past Tournament will not be the crowning achievement of your fledgling career, Artie. It will not end with yours and Kallie’s hands being raised and the two of you earning your respective shots at World Championship glory. No. Like Gettysburg and General Lee, this match will be the one where everyone will tell you that you bit off way more than you could chew.

Years from now, you’ll look back at this Blast From the Past Tournament and you’ll tell your kids that it was the making of you. That if it wasn’t for this tournament, you wouldn’t be the champion you will be in the years to come. If it wasn’t for facing Sean Parker, you wouldn’t be the professional wrestler you will become one day. This is going to be my gift to you on Sunday, Artie. The gift of perspective you’ve been sorely lacking.

See, right now? You’re not the mighty Achilles leading the Myrmidons into battle. No. You’re Patroclus. Poor, in-over-his-head Patroclus, so eager to prove himself that you’ll jump at the chance to show what you’ve learned, even when others tell you it’s too soon.

You’ve adorned yourself in greaves, a helmet, and armour you’re just not ready to wear yet. You’re wielding a sword and shield that are just too heavy for your tenderfoot soul to bear the burden of carrying. You’ve rushed into battle, your self-confidence growing as you somehow take down adversaries that no one thought you’d be able to take down. But as the pack starts to dwindle, and the bodies begin to fall, you see another warrior on the battlefield, also taking down opponents around him with unbridled ease. Everyone wants to see the clash between Prince Hector, fabled and legendary Trojan Prince soldier and the legendary Achilles. Like I said though, you’re not Achilles. Poor, little Patroclus.

And this is where you’ll be found wanting, Artie. This is where your journey ends. This is where you get found out as the boy trying to prove himself a man. This is when your movements get tracked and your sword swings become telegraphed and your overconfidence becomes your downfall. This is where I unsheathe Masamune from its scabbard and slice its blade across your neck, separating your head from your shoulders before you have even the slightest comprehension of what’s happened. Just like you haven’t the slightest comprehension of what awaits you and Kallie when Climax Control rolls into Pennsylvania.

You’re a raw recruit charging headlong into cannon fire. Admirable. But this isn’t your ordinary skirmish. This is Gettysburg, kid. The ground trembles with the weight of an expectation you’re just not prepared for. And come Sunday, you won’t live to see the sun rise over Little Round Top and all you’ll be is just a footnote in my campaign.

The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here.

Here we were. I didn’t think in my wildest dreams since venturing out to establish my wrestling career away from the cotton wool of my uncle and the Hardcore Wrestling Alliance. As I climbed out of the car, I quickly scooted around, opening the passenger door for Eve. We had been dating for a few months now and things were going great. Truth be told, I was grateful she was with me tonight.

The build to the Strength Trials Draft had been mired in whataboutery and back-and-forth jabs across social media between myself and Bravery Trials Alumni and former SCW World Heavyweight Champion, Matt Knox. Word was that he had planned on stoking the flames of discord that had been fanning between us in the weeks prior and I really wasn’t in the mood. However, many of professional wrestling’s most established names were due to be in attendance, many of whom had been involved in the Bravery Trials along with many other hopefuls like myself looking to make their own mark.

I held my hand out for Eve as she climbed out of the car herself. She looked absolutely radiant, her cerulean blue hair cascading behind her onto an almost-matching-coloured evening gown. She smiled warmly as she accepted my outstretched hand, leaning and giving me a kiss on the cheek. God, she smelled incredible.

“You look amazing,” I said, giving her hand a squeeze. I took what I thought was a subtle inhalation through my nose before I went to start walking towards our venue for the evening. However a firmer reciprocation squeeze of my hand stopped me in my tracks. Perhaps not so subtle after all. Even after only a few months together, she could already read me like a book.

“Hey,” she said softly yet firmly, interlocking her fingers with my own. “If he starts anything, just ignore him. Don’t give him the satisfaction, that’s all he wants, sweetheart.”

A deeper inhalation this time. Definitely not subtle. I let the corresponding exhalation gush out of puffed cheeks as I stared at the ground. Eve gently bumped me, causing me to look up.

“You deserve to be here, just like everyone else. You might get drafted later, you might not. But this is a chance for you to show you’re the bigger person. Let’s go in, enjoy our evening, meet some new people… and who knows…”

She leaned in and kissed my cheek again before whispering into my ear.

“If things do get too much, we can always just go back to our room.”

I chuckled slightly at my girlfriend’s not-so-subtle insinuation before giving her a brief kiss on the lips.

“It’s not the worst Plan B I’ve ever heard.”

We shared another light laugh and another kiss before making our way towards the surreal and unnerving building that was the Hotel California. As we entered the building, the main atrium wasn’t filled with the usual hustle and bustle of coming-and-going guests like you would expect of a hotel of this size. A female receptionist at the front desk greeted us warmly with a smile.

“Can I help you?”

“Yeah, we’re here for the TRIAD Draft Party. Penelope Plimmswood said she’d be taking care of our own arrangements, we should have a room booked under ‘Parker’.”

The receptionist’s eyes diverted from us to her monitor as the keys from her keyboard clicked and clacked. A few moments later, she looked back up with an assuring smile.

“Ah yes, Mr Parker, we have you and your plus one in one of our luxury suites for the night. The reception for Ms Plimmswood’s party is just through those double-doors to your left.”

“Thank you very much,” I replied, sliding her a fifty dollar note, “you’ve been very helpful.”

Eve and I turned and followed the receptionist’s directions, making our way to where the party was taking place. A cacophony of raucous laughter and loud voices all amalgamating together could be heard, the volume getting louder as we got closer to the room. ‘Wow’ was all I could think to myself when we walked in. It was like a literal who’s who of professional wrestling. I spied the imposing figure of Harvey Marx belly-laughing as he conversed with the three TRIAD coaches themselves, Marcus Welsh, PIC and TLS. Some other faces were familiar, some not so much. Infamous promoter Sid Buckley III… Ricky Rodriguez… Blake Mason… Spencer Adams… the Dukes - Thad and Sahara… Joe Montouri and many more were all mingling, drinking, enjoying the festivities. I bit down on my bottom lip furtively, surveying the scene in front of me. Butterflies were filling my stomach and Eve wasn’t ignorant to it either. She gave my hand a comforting squeeze.

“It’ll be fine, sweetheart, just try and enjoy yourself,” she said.

As the evening went on, the drinks started to flow more freely. Eve had gone to our room for a lie down, leaving me to mingle when a familiar, condescending, gravelly voice suddenly made my ears perk up and my eyes roll in the same movement.

“I see you, Parker!”

Deep breaths, Sean, I tried to tell myself. I did my best to ignore the annoying drunken tones of one Matthew Knox. I turned around and held my hand up in a non-threatening manner.

“Look, Knox, just stay out of my face, please. I lost a big match earlier and I’m not in the mood for your shit.”

“Zero wins! Zero bitches! Draft stock TANKING! You need to up your game, Parker!”

Nah, fuck this. I stepped forward, pushing Knox in his chest, startling those within close proximity.

“You and I are starting to have a real fucking problem, Knox!”

I shoved my hand in his face, my index finger extended for emphasis.

“One more fucking word!”

Knox just smiled smugly.

“Do I get to pick the word?”

I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, staring into his drunken face, his breath reeking of bourbon.

“Pick it fucking carefully, Matt, I’m not fucking around!”

He just laughed as I let him go, staggering back slightly in his inebriated stupor.

“Poor guy, you know what? I actually pity that cute little girlfriend of yours. Isn’t she here? Maybe she could use some cheek sugar!”

That did it. My arm was cocked, my fist steering towards Knox’s face before I even realised what was happening. It was like a reflex action, as if my brain and heart collectively decided “fuck this guy”. The impact sent Knox tumbling to the ground, sending bourbon and ice everywhere. My chest was heaving and my blood was boiling, my heartbeat so loud I could hear it in my ears. But instead….all the smug prick could do was rub his jaw, that same condescending smile on his stupid fucking face. I watched him clamber back to his feet.

“Man, if I could feel my face I bet that sucked! I get it though, can’t do it to your actual dad eh, Parker?”

His words were like a Muleta being waved in front of a bull and I was ready to gore him with my horns one more time. I stepped forward again, my arm cocked and loaded a second time, ready to unload when I suddenly felt an arm around my waist, pulling me back.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Easy, kid, come on now, let’s go get a breather!”

I turned my head to see TRIAD coach and former OCW owner, Marcus Welsh, the very man who’d flown all the way to my hometown of Dunfermline to scout me as a prospective draft prospect for the Strength Trials. I respected Welsh for going to such lengths and he’d always been pleasant with me but I wasn’t in the mood for “kid” or anyone putting their hands on me. I not-so-forcefully removed Welsh’s arm from my waist and held my hands up.

“I’m fine, Welsh! I don’t need a breather, I’m done with him,” I said, turning and walking away towards the bar.

“I need a drink.”

Standing at the bar was the familiar face of Team Welsh alumni and former SCW Roulette and Internet Champion, Alexander Raven, locked in a heated exchange with a woman I didn’t recognise. At this point, Raven and I hadn’t had much in the way of interactions but his face was one I immediately recognised. Raven and I would become very much acquainted in the TRIAD Tribulations finale in Cambodia on New Year’s Eve of 2023 when I pipped him to the post on my way to earning my spot as the only guaranteed draftee for the Wit Trials. The woman he was with though? Not so familiar.

She was dressed in a long flowing black dress with large, feathery shoulderpads, sharp make-up accentuating her already strong features. If tension was physical, the two of them would be trapped in the mud of it.

“You can’t fucking hold this against me forever, Alex.” I heard her bark, the heavy twang of New Orleans mixed with the spatterings of someone who had lived long enough in Australia to make it a little bit messy and nasally to listen to.

I motioned to the barman with a non-verbal gesture to the upside-down bottle of Grey Goose with an optics attached to the bottom. I wasn’t usually one for drinking straight vodka but I sure as hell needed one right now as I became an unconsenting fly on the wall of a lover’s quarrel.

“Things don’t just get better, Luna,” I heard Raven snipe back.

“My head is all kinds of messed up, and you. Jimmy and you, kept things from me. Lied to me, and did it all under the guise of ‘protecting’ me. So, you can go fuck yourself. I’m going to have fun. I think Welsh wanted a karaoke partner.” Raven said, finishing his drink, slamming the base of his glass emphatically on the bar.

“Go fuck yourself, Alex.” the woman named Luna snapped back, throwing her drink in Raven’s face. I pursed my lips, the subtlest look of ‘Oh damn’ crossing my face for the briefest of seconds as I sipped on my vodka, crunching the ice cubes between my teeth.

I kept my head facing forward but subtly side-eyed the goings-on. Raven didn’t say anything else. He just shook his head, standing there soaking for a moment before he turned on his heels and took off. The woman screeched in response. Something that anyone who knew her would become incredibly conscious of. The woman was a banshee disguised as a human being.

This was the first time Luna Pasilno and I met. She looked just as angry as I felt, and just as likely to take someone’s head off. She whirled her hand at one of the bartenders, ordering another drink without words, and caught my eye. Little did I know that just seven months later, I’d be thrust into one of the biggest tournaments in professional wrestling alongside her… a dear friend… the crazy-ass sister I never had…


Being a dad was taking some getting used to. But even though Amelia had only been with us for a week, I wouldn’t change it for the world. The experience of giving birth had really taken it out of my wife, Eve so I was happy to take on more of the load and to be honest? I was jumping at the chance to spend as much time with my gorgeous little lady as I could.

I had plonked myself into an armchair I’d specifically bought for Eve positioned right next to Amelia’s crib after I’d walked in several times and found her asleep next to it. Amelia was nestled snug on my chest, her adorable little face cuddled into the crook of my neck. And whilst I loved the snuggles I was getting, there was a phone call I needed to make. The Blast From The Past Tournament Pairings had been announced. Luna Pasilno, wife of Alexander Raven, whom I’d briefly been introduced to back during the TRIAD Strength Trials Draft Party. I’d already done some reconnaissance on her. She was bat-shit crazy but incredibly talented, a lethal combination. The wrestling gods had been kind to me. It hadn’t been difficult retrieving her contact information and we had already touched base beforehand and had agreed to speak in more detail about the upcoming match.

Another perk of being a dad was the sudden ability to do two things at once. Since Amelia had been born, I’d managed to change her nappy with one hand whilst drinking a cup of coffee and fed her a bottle of milk whilst putting the finishing touches on my Lego Death Star. So you’d think making a FaceTime call would be a piece of piss, right?

I’d managed to manoeuvre my phone out of my pocket and dial Luna’s number. After a few moments, the screen changed from the dialling description to indicate the call had been answered but you imagine my surprise, that instead of seeing Luna’s face, I was presented with what appeared to be a foot of all things. The sound of a dog barking as well as the hybrid twang of New Orleans-Australia could also be heard.

“Um…hello? Luna?”

Soon, Luna’s familiar face managed to come into view on my screen.

“So, I didn’t realise the time. And… Do you have dogs, Angel? We have this one crazy little demon. Duchess, named after Alex’s fuckin’ childhood farm creature. Anyway, we do not have an apartment big enough for this beastie, and she decided that this morning was THE day to run roughshod over us. So, if you do not mind a smidge, I’m going to need an extra… twenty minutes to put my life together. That fine with you, Sugar? I can’t hear you, so I’m going to assume yes. Thank you! ”

What seemed to be a toe suddenly flashed up and the screen immediately went blank and I was staring at the background of my phone again. I peered down at my sleeping daughter.

“Oh, darling, what has your daddy gotten himself into with this one?”

I gave Luna the twenty minutes she asked for and dialled her number again. This time, the scene was a lot calmer when she answered.

“Okay, once again. Apologies for earlier. This little creature is a menace until she’s had a morning lay down, and now she’s all better. But that’s enough about enough, Lover. You’ve seen my dainty little piggies, so the least you can do is tell me a bit about yourself, Mr Brand New Daddio.”

I chuckled to myself, careful not to let the bounce of my chest from my laughter wake Amelia before waving my hand in a dismissive manner at her apology.

“It’s all good, Luna, it’s all good. I do find it slightly amusing though that you can go from German suplexing someone through a flaming table to getting bowled over by a beagle.”

I laughed again as I recalled the brutal nature of the ending to Luna’s match I’d managed to catch earlier on. Luna smiled in response.

“Well, sometimes little baby angels like this one are the biggest trials and tribulations. People are easy, little doggies like this one? Now that’s hard, Sugar. Alex wanted a cat, I wanted a dog. We compromised, and got a dog, and now she punishes me for my choices. She loves him, and mostly wants me to have an unfortunate accident. Don’t you sweet girl?” Luna’s voice grew softer.

“Well, I can’t speak for pets, although I am more of a dog guy myself. I do have a baby girl here though. She’s only a week old but she’s already proving to be quite the handful. If this is what she’s like in days I can only imagine what it’s going to be when she’s at school….but I’ll worry about that later.”

Luna’s expression changed to a bright smile as I turned my phone slightly to bring Amelia into full view.

“Animals fill that void. Raven got the snip many moons ago, and we can’t… we don’t want kids really. But I do love the smell of little ones.” Luna said softly, seemingly catching herself at one point.

She took a long drag on her cigarette, and exhaled a heavy cloud of smoke. Something in her eyes spoke differently than what her words did. Her heart didn’t seem to entirely match up with her words.

“But enough about things that can’t use the toilet right, and smell like corn chips. We got some working to do, don’t we, Sugar? So I’m thinking, we should go on a little friend date, climb some castles and see how we mesh as people.” Luna said as her dog had suddenly decided she was done being on show and took off somewhere. Luna’s gaze averted from her interaction with me, seemingly watching where the dog had wandered off to before she turned back to face me although I sensed that her fixation was more on Amelia snoozing away on my shoulder than on me. And then, as if on cue, she started to stir, one of her tiny little scratch mitt-covered hands reaching up. She had an all-too-familiar expression on her face that, even as a week-old baby, I knew all too well. Poonami alert. She shifted uncomfortably which caused me to almost drop my phone and then the smell came. Yup, there it was.

“Sshhh, it’s okay darling, you’re alright! Yes, you are! Daddy’s right here…uh-oh, I think we have a code brown situation! Did you go fill your nappy? Did you?”

I turned my head, knowing Eve was awake as I’d heard her in the kitchen down the stairs.

“Babe! Can you take Amelia for a moment! She needs a clean nappy and I’m on the phone!”

Moments later my wife walked into the bedroom, a smile on her face.

”Come to mommy! Let’s give daddy some peace and quiet to talk to his new friend and we’ll get that smelly touche changed!”

I gently handed Amelia off to Eve who cradled her gently and walked out of the room.

“Thanks, babe, I appreciate it. Bye-bye darling! Daddy will come give you loads of tummy kisses after he’s done speaking to his new friend!”

I turned back to the phone screen to give Luna my undivided attention.

“Sorry about that… Meet-up? Yeah, I think that’s a great idea, actually. I’ve seen your ring-work, it speaks for itself but from my experience, two people who are great in the ring but don’t mesh as partners tend not to do so well. To be fair, Alex and I probably should get along better than we actually do but I know he’s a decent guy so if he trusts and loves you… I’m more than willing to make the effort to trust you as well. I have some promotional work SCW have requested I carry out, part of my one-off contract for the Blast From The Past in Hastings before the show. Y’know, Promote Climax Control! You’re from the UK! Hype it up, cut a promo! Perhaps we can have a little catch-up, see the sights?”

“Get your lawyers to double check the contracts. Mark and Christian are sneaky, heartless fuckers.” Luna said sternly.

“Lexi-baby is… Lexi-baby. A heart hurt by the sharpness of life. He’s just protective of himself. Protective of those he loves, too. And we’re all just a little bit sideways of normal on this side of the broken fence, baby. But we always have each other. Loyalty runs deep in our kingdom.” Luna continued on. The comfort settled in a little and it looked like maybe the person she was trying to hide from me was shining through.

And then suddenly, I could hear a loud crash from Luna’s end and assumed her dog was up to no good again. Luna stood up quickly, and shook her head, the video feed feeling like I was watching one of those found-footage films.

“I have to go see what destruction is being caused before I end up like a screaming baby too. I’ll message you for details on the meet-up later. Unless the dog kills me. In which case. Lovely talking to you, Lover.” Luna said quickly, and without even giving it a moment to settle, had hung up the call. I stared for a moment at my own reflection staring back at me from the background of my phone.

“What have you got yourself in for, Parker? Hmm? This is either going to be lightning in a bottle or a complete shitstorm… let’s hope it’s the first…”



It was a nice day in Hastings, England. For April, Spring was in full swing, wispy clouds dotted about the afternoon sky was a tapestry of teal, with the bright aura of the sunshine creating a beautiful warmth. Not words you’d often associate with an afternoon in East Sussex. I savoured it, lifting my hand up, bridging the side of it against my forehead to shield my eyes from the bright light as I walked across the field where the infamous battle took place.

“I’ve been a professional wrestler for a long time. I’ve graced many different promotions and organisations in the eleven years I’ve been lacing my boots up. The Hardcore Wrestling Alliance, World Championship Wrestling, Zion Wrestling, One Wrestling Movement, the Xtreme Wrestling Federation, Five Lakes Wrestling, TRIAD, Pro Wrestling Valor, FIGHT! Championship Wrestling… and now here I am… Sin City Wrestling, another big debut on the cards. And make no mistake, out of all the cards left in the deck, you’re looking at the absolute fucking wildcard of the entire tournament. And you know? In the last eight? Nine months? Making big splashes like this is becoming something of a habit.”

I held my hand out, my thumb extended.

“I arrived in XWF last year, took their Madness brand by storm, switched to Anarchy and won the Anarchy Championship from Centurion on my debut in December and I’m still champion!”

My index finger joined my thumb.

“I entered the Porter Games, beating Dionysus and your brand-new Internet Champion, Peter Vaughn before narrowly-losing out to Chris Page in a match I arguably should’ve won!”

Then in came the middle finger to join the party.

“I crashed the TRIAD Strength Trials, outlasted seven other competitors including former SCW World Champion, Mark Cross and the husband of my Blast From The Past Tag Team Partner, Alexander Raven! I went the entirety of the Wit Trials without being pinned in matches against the likes of Matt Meyhu, the Big Bifford, Shawn Warstein, Corey Black and CYPH3R!”

I took a moment before continuing.

“LIke I said, making statements like this is becoming something of a habit, a habit I plan on continuing here in Sin Cin Wrestling…now, granted, a lot of you SCW regulars probably don’t know me from Adam but I promise you all, once my time in this tournament is done, you will know what I’m capable of and why they call me the Sky Assassin! And it starts with you, Kat and Teddy, here, on the fabled site of Hastings on April Twenty-eighth.

Ms Jones, you and are no strangers. You have my respect, you’re probably one of the standout Bombshells of this whole thing. Your WGWF exploits are certainly nothing to be sniffed at. But from what I’ve seen, your record in Sin City Wrestling is significantly… less than stellar. Your first match of the year was what? Three weeks ago? And before that, you hadn’t won a match in how long? Eight months?! You bottled a chance to win the Bombshell Internet Championship and couldn’t even drag yourself to victory in a straightforward tag team match. Still, at least you’ve managed to scrounge enough chips together to pay for one more buy-in.”

I walked across the fields of Hastings, my eyes scanning the beautiful, picturesque scenery before me.

“But, I have to wonder if throwing yourself into the Blast From The Past Tournament is the brightest idea, Kat, knowing the next card you could be dealt could be a joker. Or perhaps it’s you that’s the joker of the pack but you fancy yourself a queen? Is this one last big call? A chance to prove you’re still the same Bombshell that won the Roulette Championship all those months ago. Whatever it is, you better come to this table with an ace or two up your sleeve because you’re gonna need every trick in the book to survive Luna.

And that brings me to your partner… the person I’m more concerned with… Teddy Warren. Apparently, according to the next Climax Control card summary, Teddy, you're…”

I brought my hands up, making a set of mocking air quotes with my fingers.

”...’Unique and controversial’. But, from what I gather, the only thing controversial about you is your decision to drag yourself out of the doldrums of anonymity, thinking you have even the slightest chance of reviving a career that’s little more than a dying ember at this point. In fact, by the time the sun sets on Hastings, England come the twenty-eighth of April, my one match in SCW is going to eclipse everything you’ve ever done in this company.

See, Teddy, whilst you’ve been doing…whatever the fuck it is you’ve been doing since your name last held any semblance of relevancy, I’ve been establishing myself in the pantheon of professional wrestling. And It’s actually ironic that this week’s Climax Control is taking place in Hastings… the site of the historic battle. Do you know the history of the Battle of Hastings, Teddy? Do you know what was actually at stake? Well, allow me to educate you! You see, our match? It’s not all too dissimilar from what transpired all those centuries ago. Much like the Would-Be-King, Harold Godwinson, wanted to claim Edward the Confessor’s crown for his own, you want Blast From The Past 2024 to be your crowning achievement, a return to form…

…But your ignorance and stubbornness blind you, Teddy, just as Harold’s did. Blinded by the arrogance of his own prowess, unaware of the impending storm that approached. Just as he faced the fury of William's army, you’re going to come face to face with the relentless onslaught of my own ambition and skill. And just like the arrow that flew through the air and pierced through Harold’s eye and skewered his brain like a kebab, you won’t see me coming, Teddy. Except it won’t be an arrow, it’s going to be a Masamune Decapitation separating your jaw from the rest of your head!”

I took another brief moment of respite, thinking on my words, allowing for the weight of them to sink in.

“But you know, William’s conquest of Great Britain back then doesn't even touch the sides of some of the greatest conquests in history, Teddy… You’ve got Alexander the Great… Ghengis Khan… Julius Caesar, the Dictator of Rome… Napoleon Bonaparte, Emperor of France… Attila the Hun….Timur… Francisco Pizarro, the Conquistador of South America…. Mahmud of Ghazni, the First Sultan…and now, in 2024… Sean Parker in Sin City Wrestling...

But I am no mere conqueror; I am the embodiment of destiny, the architect of my own legacy. Just as William claimed victory at Hastings, like Alexander the Great took a stranglehold over half the world, this little comeback of yours will be snuffed out and you can skulk back into the shadows of mediocrity where you’ve made such a comfortable home for yourself this past year. See you at the weekend…”

As I prepared to walk off camera, something in my peripheral vision suddenly caught my eye. Now, it’s worth noting that when I arrived for my media duties here in Hastings, I was made well-aware the ruins here were private property and that interacting with them was strictly off-limits. I had to squint to get a better look at whatever this was and soon found myself hurriedly walking across the fields to get a closer look. It then started to twig… Surely not? I thought to myself as I got closer and closer. Someone was actually climbing the sacred ruins of Hastings and not just anyone. I don't think I could have rolled my eyes any harder when it eventually dawned on me who it was…

“Luna! Fuck sake!” I shouted. I was then acutely aware the cameras were still live… I turned to the crew who had been following me around. ”Aye, um…you might want to stop filming… unless you want SCW to get into legal trouble…”

The scene quickly cut to black.