Scene One
Off-Camera
It had been a few months now since my first interaction with the mysterious and downright terrifying enigma that was Vita Mors. Months since I’d been invited to Vita Towers following the TRIAD Wit Trials Draft Party. I remembered the conversations I’d had beforehand with his company’s Head of Relations, Ashton Mire. The revelations about being granted visions of memories past, present and future. Even now, having experienced the trauma of revisiting a past I thought I needed to see along with so many others, it still blows my mind.
I remembered the cold, chilling voice of Mors asking me what I wished to see and telling him about my dad. Killed in action overseas 25 years ago when I was barely a toddler. I remembered desperately wanting to know what it would have been like to have known him.
I remember the image of Mors stretching his arms out wide, his fingers curling and flexing, like he was almost digging his fingers into something. I remember not being able to believe what I was witnessing, as he pulled from opposite corners with openings beginning to appear in the vast nothingness. He was literally tearing through the fabric of reality.
I watched his body stiffen as he pulled his hands towards each other slowly, with each movement, the tears in the empty space opening wider. The Latin incantations followed, the ones that would soon become a part of my own rituals.
“Pater merui.”
The marks upon his mask had lit up. Little invisible runes carved into his own skin had begun to pulse with a blue light, illuminating against his flesh. The sleeves of his robe had fallen to reveal his arms covered in an array of different runes and sigils. His hands had then finally come together, a loud clap echoing through the space. Instead of the red mist shimmering beyond the window now stood a scene. A window within a window. A glimpse into another time, another place. Another world.
I remembered his words.
“A tear in time, and beyond it. We see what your heart desires. Look, and see what I can offer.”
Vita Mors had said with a bit of strain. And then his hand on my shoulder. That one touch was all it took. I would not just see the events through a viewfinder. From behind a window. No, this was more than that. I was going to live this memory. This… absence of space where Mors granted me access to… he called it the Void, the absence of nothing but a gateway of everything… a place I would become very familiar with in the months to come. And then there was the device. A gift, he’d called it, a gesture of good faith. Like some sort of futuristic pocket watch. But where the clock face should have been was… nothing. A small part of The Void itself contained within the glass of the pocket watch. All I had to do was visualise what I wanted to see and say the Latin incantation.
In the months since that fateful interaction, I had become quite adept at traversing the Void with my new toy. Tesla’s experiments with electricity, glimpses into what my own career and what life with my family would have been like. But one memory in particular I frequented more than anything was one I never thought I’d want to relive.
April 29th 2013. The day that changed the course of both my career as a professional wrestler and a person, for the rest of my life.
HWA. The Hardcore Wrestling Alliance. The first company I cut my teeth with as a pro, a fresh-faced sixteen year-old kid who only wanted to follow in his uncle’s footsteps. My uncle was Butch Parker. They called him the “One Man Tartan Army” because that’s what he was like in the ring, a literal one man army. Eight-time world champion, hall of famer, the most bad-ass pro wrestler I’d ever seen and all I wanted was to be like him.
April 29th 2013. HWA’s Ring Master tournament, the pinnacle of their calendar, a gruelling one-night tournament where the winner would be crowned the Ring Master, catapulting them into the main event stratosphere. Uncle Butch had won the tournament in his pay-per-view debut back in 2004 before going on to win the HWA World Championship four times. I remembered desperately wanting to emulate him and make him proud.
Like I said, It wasn’t the first time I’d revisited this memory. I rolled the pocket watch-like device between my thumb and forefinger, as if it were a poker chip I was contemplating throwing into the betting pile. I watched the scene unfold, like I’d done countless times before.
The crowd was roaring as I watched my 16 year-old self climb the ropes, recalling the feeling of the adrenaline coursing through my veins. I gazed at myself leaping into the air, preparing for a death-defying move, feeling invincible. But fate had a different plan. As I soared through the air, executing the move I had practised countless times, something went horribly wrong. My landing was off and I crashed awkwardly into my opponent’s upturned knees. Every time I watched it, I could still feel the impact sending a jolt of excruciating pain through my spine. I knew instantly that something was terribly, horribly wrong.
I watched my body go limp, and remembered that all-too-familiar eerie numbness spreading through my legs. Then a different sensation…like I’d just been stabbed with a searing hot poker straight through my belly button and into my back. I watched as I desperately tried to move, to will my legs to respond, but they remained still, lifeless. Tears welled in both sets of eyes as I realised the gravity of the situation—I couldn’t feel my legs. The pain was excruciating at first and then, what came next was nothing short of terrifying. I felt nothing. Fear had taken over. The crowd had fallen silent to the point I remember actually hearing the commentators at ringside.
“Holy shit! We need some help out here,” shouted play-by-play commentator Vanessa Lang, “Sean needs help!”
I watched Uncle Butch sprint down the ramp from backstage to ringside in the quickest of flashes, tears in his own eyes as he tried to calm me down. Suddenly, I heard another voice. A voice I recognised all too well. I knew that because I literally felt a chill run through my very soul.
“My, my, you have been very busy, haven’t you, Mr Parker?” Vita Mors said, placing a hand down on my shoulder. With his other hand he snapped his fingers and everything froze.
“It’s fascinating, the things we can see. The worlds that exist when we ask for them to reveal themselves. I’ve been wondering, Sean. Do you know why I’ve given you this ability? Why have I felt so compelled to give access to things beyond comprehension, asking practically nothing in return?” Mors spoke, his gaze seemed to be fixed on the scene before them. Though behind the mask it was hard to tell.
I was still trying to get over my shock of Mors being here. Harvey Marx had hinted before that my movements within the Void were being…watched…. But still, seeing him here with me was unsettling. I didn’t actually know the answer to Mors’ question. Truth be told, I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
“Have you been watching me this entire time? Everything I’ve seen? I followed your instructions! I didn’t break any rules, I’ve not shared this with anyone. Visualisation, connection, experience, language and peace. I’ve followed all of them...”
I followed his apparent gaze watching the frozen frame of my uncle Butch looking heartbroken, clinging to my hand.
“Why are you here? How can you be here?”
“Please, do not worry. This isn’t ridicule, Mr Parker. No, this is more a… social visit. My legs grow numb sitting in that office. That’s why I’m here, in fact. You, and others like you? You’re my eyes to this world. I can make anything happen, show anybody what can, could and will be. Pluck reality’s strings and make them play my tune. I am, however, trapped.” Mors spoke, taking his hand off my shoulder and walking forward. Walking toward my uncle Butch, crouching to look at his hand holding mine.
“How am I here? I am because I want it to be. Think of me less as a… person. More of an extension of the Void itself. I both exist, and I don’t. Comprehension of that is not so clear cut, and yet. I exist all the same. A god, shackled by the rules of reality. That’s another way to look at it. Yet the poignant question, why am I here? Why do you think I’m here, Sean?” Mors spoke, his voice echoing around the frozen world. Crouching, but now looking directly at the frozen version of myself. I sighed, puffing my cheeks out. I reached out and touched him and that same pain I felt all the way back in 2013 coursed through my back. My eyes widened and I grimaced, flinching and then… nothing. Like a phantom pain, it came and went just as quickly.
“At this stage… I have no idea… I’ve learned that when it comes to you, nothing is ever what it seems…”
“Two reasons really. Nothing malicious, I promise you. One, to simply say that I am watching. Not always, but at times. I’d lose myself to it all if I tried to pay attention all the time. Millions of realities in an instant, it can be taxing to always listen to them. Suffice it to say, I enjoy seeing what you’re doing. A nattering middle-manager if you will. I just like to see my work paying off.” Mors reached over and placed a hand over mine.
“The second? I need you to do something for me, Mr Parker. You’re very close to another one of my assets, currently. In fact, you’re currently befriending that very man’s wife. I need you to show her… this.” Mors said before standing up, stretching his hands to the world around us. Spinning on the spot, to look off at nothing.
“Not this particular event, of course. I need you to show her what she needs to see. Whatever it may be. For I need Mr Rabenschwarz to open his mind to the potential of what I can give. He’s being a little more… more reluctant than I had anticipated.”
What the hell?! My mind raced. What was Alexander Raven doing with Vita Mors? Just how far did his reach go? Raven and I hadn’t shared much in terms of social interactions besides a few forced pleasantries. In fact, my most vivid memory of Alexander Raven was him trying to split my head open in Cambodia back at the conclusion of the TRIAD Strength Trials. And now Mors wanted me to show Luna the Void as part of some scheme he had with Raven?
I looked away from the scene in front of me for the first time since Mors had appeared.
“And exactly is it that Luna needs to see?” I asked. “I’m already caught up in so many webs as it is, Mors, with the Great Illuminatus, our deal with Harvey Marx… at this rate, you’re running out of pockets to keep me in…”
“Anything, Mr Parker. Talk to her, find out what it is her heart desires and then show her a world in which it could be. A world in which it could be for them both. You’re playing a role here. I may be giving, but I am not benevolent. Payment comes with everything, and you’ve seen what happens when people refuse to pay.” Mors said, turning to face me once more. His head tilted just slightly.
“I do not care how, but you will show her. The subtle touch does not work for those who distrust the world itself. There’s a certain irony in the delusional conspiracies of a man who thinks the invisible hands are manipulating fate. For you’ll be making his doubts manifest. You are my eyes, Sean. Mr Rabenschwarz? He is already my vessel. I just need him to accept what I give.”
My mind raced again. What have you gotten yourself into, Alex? I asked myself. I thought about Luna too. We had grown closer as friends since our pairing had been announced for SCW’s Blast From The Past Tournament. And now suddenly I was being tasked with plunging her into the Void and showing her a world that she didn’t even know existed. My mind then suddenly flashed back to the first conversation we’d had, that hilarious video chat with her dog running rampant and me trying to multitask whilst I was holding my baby daughter, Amelia.
“I think I have an idea.”
“Good.” Mors said, taking a few steps off into the distance. “Enjoy whatever peace you are finding in this. I’ll see you very soon.”
One more snap of the fingers, and he was gone. Life returning to the world before me.
Scene Two
On-Camera
To say the last month or so had been tumultuous for me would be the understatement of the century. I’ve got my fingers in so many pies, it’s any wonder I can keep track of everything that’s going on. So much has happened, even since mine and Luna’s victory in the opening round of the Blast From The Past Tournament. Still, this is the life we’ve all chosen. Professional wrestlers. Warriors. Fighters. Every single one of us. Along with the sacrifices we make each time we step into the hallowed squared circle. Just like the ancient warriors of tales long past… the Trojans and Greeks who warred over love, over land, pride and glory. Like those courageous souls, each one of us fights for something different in this industry.
Me? I’m building a legacy. I’m not interested in blood feuds, lucrative contracts or sponsorship deals. Like Achilles himself, I want my name to last through the ages so that when the time comes for me to hang up my boots, people talk about Sean Parker as one of the greatest, one of the most exciting, fearless, ruthless pro wrestlers they had ever seen. Only, unlike Achilles, you won’t find any undipped weaknesses left from being dipped into the River Styx.
And at the moment? My legacy is looking very promising… seven championship reigns across five different promotions in just nine months, on the precipice of becoming the second-longest-reigning Anarchy Champion in XWF history. Two championship matches in the next two weeks in two different promotions. And then, a run in the most brutal endeavour ever conceived in professional wrestling in TRIAD where I went up against guys like Shawn Warstein, the Big Bifford, CYPH3R, Corey Black, Paul Freedom and Matt Meyhu where none of them managed to even come close to pinning my shoulders to the mat. And now, the Blast From The Past Tournament is potentially going to be added to my ever-growing legacy.
See, Bill, that is why I’m called the workhorse of professional wrestling. That’s why SCW management is desperate to sign me to a full-time contract despite having only just one match. You know, I couldn’t help but listen to what you said to Caleb Storm before yours and Roux’s victory a few weeks ago. You said quite a lot, BIll without actually saying well… anything really. Coming from someone who's no stranger to winning championships in his career, if you think rattling off the number of days or months you’ve spent holding a midcard title is going to impress anyone but the reflection you cut your promos in front of, then you’re even more ignorant than I was led to believe you were.
You’re a tortured cliche, wrapped in a meme with a cringey gooey rhetoric centre. It’s clear, listening to you drone on and on and on how you were so much better than Caleb Storms, you actually take yourself so seriously that it almost feels like a joke. You’re the perennial gatekeeper of Sin City Wrestling, Bill, except in your case, no one ever has an issue getting through. You’re no feisty tenacious bulldog, you’re just a complacent guard dog, barking at shadows while the true warriors slip past your watchful eye. I can see it now… the battlefields of Troy playing host to the Blast From The Past Quarter-Finals. Standing guard proudly, a stoic look on his face, is the Bulldog himself, the two-time Roulette Champion, eager to give his life for King Priam aka Christian Underwood, to prevent any intruder from breaching the walls of Sin City Wrestling.
And there it is, in its majestic glory…a gigantic wooden horse. It takes all yours and Roux’s strength to pull it through the gates but your wits have deserted you. Just as the overzealous Trojans hauled their misplaced symbol of victory through their gates, like the impaired sentry you are, you have left the gates to your precious kingdom unlocked and in doing so, allowed an invading force, unlike anything you’ve ever encountered, to slip past you and lay waste to all you hold dear.
All you’ll be able to do is pray to the Sun God. Beg Apollo for a merciful defeat. Tell him you’re grateful you lived to witness Luna Pasilno, the Idol, the Masochist, take her place at the top of the Bombshell division. Let him know, you were a part of the legacy of the Sky Assassin as he cements his name in the annals of history where Father Time’s reach cannot touch.
Because once this match is over, that’s all you will be, Bill. A tiny part of my journey to immortality, to becoming one of the best to ever do this. I need this more than you do. You’ve been a fantastic servant for Sin City Wrestling over the years and I daresay you surprised even yourself to get this far. You’re good to have around, to beef up the card but you can’t take that key next step to reach that next echelon of greatness. It’s just too steep for you and you know what? That’s ok. Some of us are destined to get so far but only a select few are destined for something more.
Scene Three
Off-Camera
The journey to Turkey for Climax Control wasn’t one to write home about. I didn’t cope particularly well with long-haul flights at the best of times and a fourteen hour non-stop from Los Angeles to Istanbul, even in First Class, was one I’d rather have not taken. Still, it had given me time to do some scouting on Bill Barnhart and Roux’s previous matches, including their victory in the first round of the Blast From The Past Tournament on my laptop. It didn’t take long though and, in all honesty, I’d seen all I needed to see.
Both were good wrestlers no doubt about it but they were a dime a dozen compared to others I’d been in the ring with. Bill had the experience, Roux had the tenacity and excitement that every new rookie had in the early-goings of their career. But these two weren’t a patch on people like Knox, Vaughn, Page, Serenity, Penelope Plimmswood, Raven and Luna. No. Barnhart seemed to be stuck in an era that had long since passed him by but still felt the need, out of nothing but nostalgia, to keep it alive when someone should have called time of death a long time ago.
I do have to admit, watching him stripped down to nothing but a pair of speedos on a cruise ship against Raven, Whelan and Kasey brought a smile to my face and a light snort of amusement to escape my nostrils. As I closed the Sin City Wrestling website on my browser, I casually perused away, catching up on the latest goings-on in pro-wrestling and beyond. A new trailer for Twisters and Wicked? I made a mental note to say to Eve when I got home. As I continued my thoughtless browsing, I thought about my…dream-walk, for lack of a better term, with Vita Mors and I couldn’t help but think about what he said about Alex. Just what had he gotten himself into. I knew first-hand what getting into bed with someone like him was like. And having to now involve Luna in this? We hadn’t known each other that long but I felt a growing affection for her - she felt like the chaotic little sister I never had, having to make sure she wasn’t drinking the laundry detergent whilst our parents weren’t home. Right on cue, my phone pinged and there, Luna’s name popped up on my home screen.
‘In Troy, going to see the horse. See you at the horse. Neigh.’
You know when you actually read a text in the voice of the person who sent it to you? Another light snort of amusement gushed from my nose. I checked the travel app that was built-in to the back of the seat in front of me. Three hours and twenty-seven minutes until we landed in Istanbul. Back to my phone.
‘About three or so hours away, Crazy. Try not to get yourself arrested, Turkish jails aren’t fun!’
The whoosh sound and subsequent ‘delivered’ status confirmed my message had been sent and I put my phone away, drifting away into a disrupted sleep, images of Raven, of Luna and of Mors cascading through my mind.
Scene Four
Off-Camera
Several hours later I was driving to Çanakkale. The rest of the flight had been restless as was the drive. Luna had texted me again as well after I’ve gotten off the flight, changing our original plans.
‘Change of plans. I want a couple of cheeky mimosas and try some Turkish beer. See you at the Helix Pub, when you get in.’
It wasn’t unlike, as I’d come to know in the past six weeks or so we’d come to know each other. Luna was like a human tornado, changing her path without warning and worrying about it afterwards. At first it had been a little jarring but now it was almost endearing. It had taken me a little while to find the Helix pub Luna had referred to in her last text and my attempts and Turkish hadn’t exactly endeared me to the locals. The place was nice enough though, both rustic and modern in the same breath. And there she was, like she said she would be, going to town on a mimosa, several empty bottles of Efes beer on the table. She beamed when she saw me, taking an extra sip of her mimosa before getting up, arms outstretched. She wrapped them around me, giving me a little peck on the lips before practically dragging to the table.
“Hey, Lover! You took your sweet-ass time!”
“Well, if you hadn’t decided to change plans at the last minute again, I wouldn’t have to make a detour! How’s the Turkish beer?”
“It’s serviceable. Call me a snob, but Melbourne did spoil me with crafts. Jimmy and Alex ran a bar, so I got to try a whole plethora of tasty brews. It’s no Moon Dog Pale, but it does the trick. They do make a good mimosa though, so… win win really.” Luna babbled.
“But, but. How was the trip, Sugar? Do you like flying? I fucking hate flying. I feel like normally we get around these long overseas flights by getting on a cruise ship. But I guess the surrogate daddies decided they want to torture me into submission. I ordered something to eat, by the by. It’s hungry work being this carefree, darling.”
I recalled the fourteen-hour flight from LA to Turkey and couldn’t help but screw my face as I tried to think of something positive. No dice.
“Long-haul flights are a pain in the arse. Even in First-Class I couldn’t even get settled but it’s been a rough week.”
Luna mentioning getting something to eat made me think. I hadn’t actually eaten anything since yesterday and my stomach was now not in the least bit subtle of reminding me.
“What did you order, Crazy? Kebab? Falafel?”
“Do not let my looks deceive you. I am not cultured, love. I think I ordered a chicken burger. I just kind of smiled, and pointed and they nodded. At least, I hope it’s chicken. I guess it could be tofu.” Luna said, suddenly seemingly less certain of her order. She shrugged her shoulders whilst finishing the remnants of her mimosa.
“They put you in first class? I’m going to have to have a word with those fuckers. Talking about rough weeks. Alex is in Istanbul being loved on by cats. Can you believe he had the audacity to say he was a pussy magnet? The nerve.” Luna continued on. She then pulled her phone out and thrust it in front of me. I backed off slightly, allowing the photo she was shoving in my face to come into focus. It looked like Alex Raven in what appeared to be a mountain of cats. It was kind of unsettling, like when you see a celebrity doing something you couldn’t imagine seeing them doing. Like if you saw the Mountain from Game of Thrones holding a puppy. I tried to put my best fake genuine smile, hoping it was convincing enough. Seeing Alex though, looking at least somewhat happy once again dredged up my conversation with Mors and what he’d asked of me to do.
“Listen…Luna…” I stammered, trying to figure out a way to broach the subject.
“I need to talk to you about something and I need you to keep an open mind…”
I went into my pocket and held the key in my hand. The gateway to the Void. Deep breaths. I brought it out and showed it to Luna, clicking it open revealing the faceless center.
“I think your wife might question why you’ve got a picture of lil’ ol me on you at all times. But if you just cannot be without, I guess I can oblige.”
There was a mocking tone to Luna’s response. I knew this was a bad idea, she was never going to buy this.
“Just shoot, Sugar. Worst thing I can say is no, tip my next drink on your head, and run away.”
My eyes widened and the potential faux pas I’d just dropped myself into.
“No, no, not like that… have you heard of Vita Mors?”
As soon as his name left my lips, Luna rolled her eyes and her body language completely changed. That will be a yes then.
“Know of him. Alex went to see him recently, and got into his head about Jimmy. My brother. Has been a little off ever since. Whatever that is, I’m guessing it has something to do with the spooky masked man and his greasy little gremlin of a second?” she replied just as the waiter brought her order and drink. Through a mouthful of chicken burger, she said.
“You know, that Ashton guy? Somehow he sends me a message one night, telling me that Alex was doing something stupid. He was, mind you. But, what kind of creep messages in the dead of night to tell someone their husband is off being a drunken menace? The nerve on those people.” she chewed.
“Look, I’ve been involved with Mors and Mire before. This?”
I held the device in front of her, rolling it between my fingers..
“This was a gift from him, it’s…how do I put this? It lets me see things… things that have happened, things that haven’t but could have if the road less travelled had been taken. I don’t know what Alex is caught up in with Mors but unless you’re willing to play ball, it never ends well, trust me.”
I was conscious of my next words. I didn’t want to scare Luna or even give much away too soon.
“I can’t even begin to tell you the crazy shit I’ve seen in the last few months but I can show you. Through this, I can show you aspects of what your life could have been. Your career, your childhood…motherhood…”
“You’re telling me, I can see what Alex and I’s baby would be?” Luna asked, incredulously. She didn’t really seem all that phased by it all. More so a case of not believing than anything.
“Alright then. Show me.” Luna replied.
And then…
