New Orleans -
Several years ago
How many years exactly? Oh, decades. If we’re to be perfectly honest. To be exact, at some point in the early 1920s, just off of Bourbon Street where a three story building that housed an old absinthe house was the focal point of this tale to be told. During the day, people went about their business, minding it as their own. But now that night had fallen, and the stars were out in the street lamps lit, the true nightlife of New Orleans had started to emerge. Including that which belonged in the shadows during the day.
Kedron Williams: What in the name of all the demons were you thinking!?
The warlock that had come to be known in certain circles as the “Son of Salem” stood in a private room, his room to be exact, and he hovered over the form of his then-friend and now bitter rival, Marquis Leveaux, the undead demon known as a Nosferatu who sat in the lone chair available. A vampire, one of the oldest and most influential at that point in time within the United States. And somehow, in some way, the two had become friends. Were it even possible for two of the darkest creations in this ‘community’ to even have friends, let alone with one another.
For centuries there had been a bitter rivalry, a war, between the dhampir and those that practiced the Craft, for good or ill. Buckets of Blood had been spilled, and it had been going on for so long that neither side even remembered how it began. It was just assumed to be a point of honor to continue it going. But these two, if not friends, were certainly capable of working together as a cohesive unit when it mattered.
And right now, there was one tending to the other's wounds, Marquis having run into trouble and being so close to the one person he could trust, he came to Kedron’s home in Louisiana many years before Kedron had returned to his native Salem, Massachusetts to settle down with his now-bride, Rinoa. Both men were a rather unique site, as the fashion back then was very much different than what our eyes would be familiar with in this day and age. Kedron had his hair pulled back into a ponytail that was so tight, it hurt simply looking at it. And he wore a wine-colored, well tailored pinstripe suit with the well polished black dress shoes. Marquis on the other hand, had a bit of a more difficult time in blending in to society where fashion was concerned. He wore a simple silk dress shirt with a handkerchief tucked into the breast pocket, his suspenders were pulled down off of his shoulders and draped over his dress slacks and his fedora hat had been thrown across the room without hazard.
And there was a gaping hole torn in the left shoulder of the shirt of Marque, and a wide, deep wound that was at least five inches long across his shoulder blade. This was where Kedron was doing his work. His cold blue eyes had gone completely dark as his dark power drew the broken end of the silver blade from Marquis’ shoulder. His eyes returned to their (un)natural color and he stopped across his room, opening up a cabinet and retrieving a bottle of the aforementioned absinthe, the bright green color as pleasing to the eyes as the wormwood infused into the drink was detrimental to the senses.
Marquis Leveaux: They were witch hunters! I would have thought you would be grateful I even went after them! They were practically on your doorstep!
Kedron turned around with the bottle in one hand, and two glasses in the other. He tilted his head to the side, what could best be described as a bemused expression on his face.
Kedron Williams: They had only entered the city limits, Marquis. I would hardly call that on my ‘front step.’
Marquis Leveaux: Close enough.
Kedron set the glasses down on the small table to the left of Marquis and poured each ‘man’ a generous portion, minus the ‘required’ water and sugar infusion. He then turned around and moved to return the bottle from where he had grabbed it, not seeing behind him Marquis with a small vial in his pale hand, pouring the contents into Kedron’s glass. Kedron then turned back around and approached his comrade-in-arms and took a seat across from him, taking his glass in hand.
Kedron Williams: And while I appreciate the sentiment, you can't know for certain that they were here for me. I only moved here recently and I'm hardly the only witch in New Orleans.
Marquis smiled, despite himself, at the confidence level displayed by his ‘friend.’ Of course, he had good reason to be confident, having survived for so many centuries, passed such threats as the burning times and witch Hunters who otherwise had decimated his kind’s numbers.
Marquis Leveaux: Two witches are in the city limits, present company included. And all due respect, but even the hardiest hunters would be fools to target Marie Leveaux.
Proving vampires had a taste for more than blood, Marquis took a healthy swallow of the absinthe before finishing his thought.
Marquis Leveaux: It would be their swan song.
Kedron Williams: I appreciate the fact you have the same confidence in me.
He raised his glass in a mock toast to his friend before draining it of its contents in a single swallow. Despite his affection for the infamous drink, it still burned its way down his throat in all of its glory. Kedron gritted his teeth and clenched his eyes tightly shut for a brief moment, before opening them to find Marquis smiling at him.
Kedron Williams: … What?
Marquis brought his own glass up to eye level and stared at the remaining contents.
Marquis Leveaux: It is the simplest of pleasures that I miss the most. I barely felt a tingle…
Kedron nodded in understanding, setting his class aside and relaxing back against his chair, kicking his ankle up across his knee.
Kedron Williams: So where are they now? These hunters of yours?
Marquis Leveaux: In hiding I would imagine. Our ruckus gathered quite a bit of attention from the local authorities. I made for here while there was a crowd. And before you ask, yes I am certain that I was not followed.
Kedron smirked.
Kedron Williams: I would have expected nothing less. Still, to engage witch hunters when there was no need?
At the term ‘no need,’ Marquis raised his eyebrows in wonderment.
Kedron Williams: You should have known they would have recognized you for what you were. Hunters don’t just go after my kind. They go after anything with an unnatural heartbeat -- or without one.
Marquis Leveaux: I have watched over you for this long. Why stop now?
A few moments passed by in relative silence, when Marquis turned his head and found Kedron with his head tilted forward, his chin against his chest as he had passed out; the drug having taken effect. Marquis immediately stood up and went to a portrait of a regal looking woman in Victorian attire hanging on the far wall of the room. He grabbed it and swung it outward, revealing a safe hidden behind the work of art. Thinking back to a time he had witnessed in passing the combination, he went to work.
A brief moment later, the safe was opened and Marquis reached in and removed a large, leather-bound tome thick with parchment pages; the personal Grimoire of Kedron Williams. With the tome in hand, Marquis turned to look at his friend with admitted regret in his eyes.
Marquis Leveaux: I am sorry, Kedron. This is too important to fall into the hands of the Cult. You will come to understand.
And that being said, Marquis turned his back to his now-former friend and exited his room, shutting the door behind him.
Las Vegas, Nevada -
Two weeks ago
Following his ‘meeting’ between Marquis and Griffin Hawkins on the rooftop nightclub of the Saxon Hotel, Kedron paced relentlessly in his and his wife’s shared room. Despite all evidence to the contrary, Kedron had the utmost confidence in his wife's task that he had requested of her. Still, despite who and what he was, he was above all else a loving husband. And he was concerned.
Moments later, he heard a scratching at the door. Walking briskly over, he knew who it was before he had ever extended his hand to the door handle. Pulling it open, all three of his wife's ‘babies’ hurried into the room and woke their way around his ankles. Still an unfamiliar show of affection from 3 felines who until only recently would hiss and claw whenever he was anywhere near their vicinity.
He looked up and past them, and saw who he had been waiting for; the object of his life’s affection. With a soft smile on her face, his wife Rinoa walked down the hallway and to their hotel door, clutching the Grimoire with both arms against her upper body. Shutting the door behind her, Kedron placed a hand on her slim shoulder and stood before her, inspecting her up and down.
Kedron Williams: Are you okay? Did you have any difficulty?
Rinoa Williams placed her hand on his own and smiled for his assurance.
Rinoa Williams: None at all. My babies played their part perfectly.
Kedron glanced down at the three mewling felines and nodded his head.
Kedron Williams: You three deserve a reward then. I’ll see if I can lure Bella and Malachi’s dog here for a midnight snack.
Rinoa Williams: Kedron…?
But he smiled up at her, showing he was just teasing. … Sort of.
Kedron Williams: You did beautifully…
That said, he placed his hand behind her swan-like neck and drew her in for a loving kiss. Once they separated, he frowned and wrinkled his nose.
Kedron Williams: Why do you smell like smoke?
Rinoa waved off the concern.
Rinoa: Oh, one of Marquis’s friends tried to stop me. Incidentally, who knew vampires went up in flames like that?
Kedron chuckled and kissed her a second time. She then passed his long-lost tome into his hands. He held it in one arm, caressing the leather bound cover with the palm of his other hand while gazing at it with open reverence.
Rinoa Williams: So, what will you do with it now?
Kedron drew his eyes away from what he thought long-lost to Rinoa.
Kedron Williams: Give it the protections I should have the first time.
“What a few weeks this has been. More so than even I could have foreseen. When I first defeated Caleb Storms and Stephen Callaway to earn a chance at Jack Russow’s Roulette Championship, I have to admit that I didn't think much of it. Championship titles never really did have the Allure for me that it apparently has on virtually 95% of the population of Sin City Wrestling. Now I do admit that I enjoy a bit of adornment, some jewelry here and there but a golden championship belt just seemed a bit cliche to me. Fighting for a belt and calling it Prestige was such a … ‘mortal’ thing to do. When I first set foot into this world of Combat Sports, I was told that the general saying is that anybody can defeat anybody on any given day. So how then does winning a simple piece of leather with a gold emblem on it really mean anything of any significance?”
“Then Jack and I opened things up on Into the Void IX, and I began to understand. At least to a slim degree. As I understand it, opening these events up as the first match is not the insult that so many people seem to think that it is. I was told that is the exact opposite, as you are expected to set the tone for the entire evening and see if your peers can keep up with you. I would like to think that Jack and I set the tone quite well, and set a standard for everyone else to live up to. And yes, I found it a bit of a thrill when I walked away the winner, and the new champion. But has my views on championships changed entirely?”
“Not really. It was simply another win in a series I hope to continue on with, as Ben Jordan had encouraged me to do many months past. I mean, why not? When you're as old as I am, you look for new ways to amuse yourself and so far, it has been an experience. But I can't tell you how disappointed I am to hear that the date after I won this championship, my opponent, the former Champion, announced his exit from Sin City Wrestling. I can't help but feel partially responsible, and somewhat disgusted by this. Would Jack have left had he won against me? No, he is either a sore loser or he's simply using me and my victory as an excuse to do something that he had in mind to do the entire time.”
“One loss, Jack. One loss and you call it quits? Despite all of my gifts outside of the Ring, I can freely admit that my track record inside of the Ring was not the best. But I persisted, I kept going because I may be a lot of things but I am no quitter! And I proved that I belonged, which is in reality perhaps the only useful thing a championship may in the eyes of the one holding it! So plan your return Jack, because I will not be used as an excuse or a reason for someone essentially giving up and walking away with their tail tucked between their legs!”
“Imagine my surprise to discover that our so-called Queen Christina, deigned to think of me when she deigned to book me against a face we are all familiar with in Lachlan Kane. Then imagine my disappointment to discover that this match was not actually for the championship, but a non-title match. I've never understood the point of a non-title match. If a champion wrestles, their title should be on the line. Or are you accusing Lachlan of not being worthy of challenging for what is essentially the lowest tiered championship? I noticed that you did not think your own wife was too good to challenge for the women's version of this roulette gold. But then again, I suspect you harbor certain feelings that the only Championship your wife is capable of winning is the roulette title.”
“And for all it’s glory and storied past, for all of the matches that have drawn the excitement of fans and peers alike for this division, I can’t help but notice that in the eyes of Outsiders, this Championship is not as prestigious as the world title. I have even heard some say that it is not even as prestigious as the Internet Championship, despite the roulette title being around for much longer and having a much more storied history.”
“Perhaps this is why Queen Christina has booked this match so openly and brazenly. Perhaps it is her own way of taking a shot at this championship level, or at the very least, the men's version. Because we've already seen her double standards between the male and female divisions of this promotion in her booking! Well that is where I say; allow Lachlan and I to change your minds, you're very perception of both this championship and this division! Whether my title is on the line or not is pointless at this particular time. What matters most, is both he and I going out there, and simply making Christina oh, pardon me, Queen Christina, eat her words with our actions.”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I'm still going to win, and I intend to do so easily and definitively. It's simply what I do. While Lachlan's best days where in the mixed tag team division with his now-wife, (Rinoa and my congratulations by the way), I have held victories over some of the very best, including the current world champion Ben Jordan and another man who has turn tail and run, Jake Raab.”
“But Lachlan won’t run. He doesn’t have it in him. All the better for me to be who I am, and for him to answer for it.”
“My apologies Lachlan. It simply can’t be helped.”
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