<img align=left src= "http://www.geocities.ws/scwmaterial/Pictures/Fenris10.jpg" height=414 width=484>"It's Aron. I know I'm not the one you were expecting to see take the initial charge here, but please bear with me for a moment. I'm sure a lot of you have questions as to what has been going on since my brother was outed last Sunday against his will. In public, no less! I don't want to go back and bore everyone by telling you what had happened from the moment we left the arena. There would be little point, anyway. The simple fact was that nothing happened on our trip back to Las Vegas. Not much, anyway."
"Kristjan pulled over just as we left and practically threw me into the driver's seat and I drove us to the airport while he just stared at nothing through his passenger window. I tried to get him to talk to me, to tell me what had happened. More so, to explain why he never told me or the rest of the family that he preferred men. What a hell of a way for your family to find out! But he wouldn't talk. He just shut me out, put his music in his ears and pretended as if I wasn't there."
"I suppose it's selfish of me to be angry with him, despite what he's going through right now, but I can't help it! I've known him all these years. he's always been there for me. I've seen a side of him, the humane side, that most fans and his MMA and wrestling peers have never. To think he couldn't trust me, or any of his family, with this..."
Las Vegas
Colin Cowherd: ..." The controversy began not because Kristjan Baltarsson was outed by the news article and cover magazine, but because the nature surrounding the story. He and former world wrestling champion, Kristopher Ryans, were caught in an illicit affair inside of a public elevator, on camera. And now the rumor is that an unnamed party is making plans to release the video of what happened inside of the elevator. Many have come forward, mostly the peers of both men, in support of the revelation, while others have voiced the opinion that they deserve what they are currently going through for what they did. And as far as Kristjan, many of his peers and fans, and much of the gay community, have expressed outrage over his being outed as such against his will. And still, others in the LGBT community, Michael Steed and Peter Tatchell, have stated outright that as a public figure, it was Kristjan's responsibility that he should have come out sooner..."
Kristjan aka Fenris, was not even laying on the bed in his room at the condo he had bough many months ago to live in, alongside of his brother Aron. He looked an unkept mess, what with a rumpled shirt that had seen better days. His hair loose and uncombed, and bleary eyes due to the perpetual drink that had been at his hand ever since they returned to the city. He was sitting on the plush carpet, practically slumped at the side, leaning heavily against the edge of the bed, staring at the television screen as yet another news reporter thought it a top news story that a public sports figure be humiliated in front of the people who had for so long, supported him. He imagined that humiliation equaled ratings, and in the end, wasn't that all the networks really cared about? They had their news stories planned out weeks in advance. All they needed was for the right opportunity to come along and fill in the blanks.
It had been like this ever since Sunday, when the news first leaked. Then when the issue hit the stands, all hell broke loose. And it had been going non-stop ever since, throughout the week! Every newspaper, every sports center broadcast and magazine, wanted to cover the story, and many felt no qualms about invading his privacy to get the story firsthand. Some had discovered where he lived in Vegas and stalked the Turnberry Place, waiting for him to appear either coming or going. He started to feel like a prisoner in his own home, unable to venture out to join his brother in a meal or even go to Gabriel and Odette's gym for a workout without being followed and harassed. Some wanted an interview, others wanted to simply intrude on his private life, with personal questions asked and unsolicited photos being taken.
Sadly, he had also become a target of some hatred by the ignorant who thought what he had been revealed as had been a betrayal to his fandom, especially that on the professional MMA circuit. Aron tried to shield him from most of it, as did Christian and Mark, not to mention the Stevens. None of them had approved of what had been done to he and Kris, and more so, the lingering threat of a sex tape. In fact, they seemed almost more outraged than even he was! And in return, his shame and humiliation had caused him to shut everyone out. Both friends and family.
He would not even allow anyone close to him to talk him into going to the hospital to have his leg and knee checked out. In Sunday's tag team match, it had been worked over by Ben Jordan, but the punishment was magnified by the sadistic Crimson who slammed his leg into the steel ring post repeatedly. Deep down he knew he should have had it checked out for the sake of his own career, if not his family's emotional well being, but his pride wouldn't give Crimson the satisfaction. Aron was not happy about it, but he kept him plied with ice packs and aspirin, to help the swelling go down and to deal with the pain. If it did not heal by the time the show on Sunday rolled around, he knew he'd have little choice but to risk the press finding him at a hospital.
He owed family and friends that much at the very least.
All this, it was why Kristjan had not left the condo in days, and had ignored every attempt to contact him. Mark Ward had left repeated messages for him, inquiring to his well being. Odette Stevens had made every attempt to lure him over to her and Gabriel's home to work out, or share a meal and open up should he feel the desire. He answered to none of it. And what hurt the most, was the frantic facebook chats that his family in Iceland had attempted but he accepted none of them. Aron had been left holding the bag on that, assuring their beloved mother and father, not to mention Freyja, that he would be fine.
But would he? How could he face them, face anyone, ever again?
There was a knock on his bedroom door, drawing Kristjan from the waves of self pity that were threatening to pull him under and drown him. He lifted his eyes and he heard Aron's voice from the other side.
"Kristjan? Come on out. The food's here and you need to eat."
Kristjan shook his head, even though Aron had no way to see the physical gesture, and answered in a rough voice, "No." As was the norm, they spoke in their native tongue when it was just family. "I'm not hungry."
"Bullshit!" Aron's voice called from the other side. "You haven't eaten anything since yesterday! All you do is drink! You've probably drinking right now!"
Kristjan said nothing in return, given that his brother was absolutely right. He reached over to the small, bedside table and picked up the glass of Brennivín, Iceland's signature drink. Very hard to come by in the States, but here's the thing; in Vegas, anything is possible. Especially if you have men like Gabriel Stevens and Daniel Morgan watching your back. Bridges had been burned seemingly beyond repair by his own doing weeks ago, but adversity had started the mending of, and Daniel had shipped a case of the liquor to the condo; sort of a gesture of good will between the two. An olive branch so to speak.
Here's a little food for thought; in the famed City of Sin, there are liquor laws that are unique and not shared by the surrounding states. Big surprise, huh!? For instance, you can drink in public so long as the drink is not in a bottle, but an open cup. Also, you can pretty much buy alcohol from clubs, bars, and even grocery stores 24 hours a day. It had been the only time he had risked venturing from the condo, in the dead of night after Aron had went to bed, and journeyed by cab to the closest store to grab a bottle of whatever struck his fancy. It was these moments, sometimes as late as after three am, that he had started to get harassed by the paparazzi and public, hence why he had suddenly holed himself up and away from the public eye.
"You are, aren't you!?"
Kristjan took a healthy swallow of the bright green liquor and answered, "Just leave me alone, A."
"I will not leave you alone! I'm worried! Mom and dad are worried!..."
"I'm FINE!" Kristjan shouted back, and immediately regretted it as his drinking this week had left him with more than just a raw throat and husky accent. He also had a seemingly perpetual hangover happening. He rubbed at his temple with his free hand as Aron called back, "No, you're NOT fine! You can't just drink yourself to death, K! You need to come out and talk to me! You need to let mom and dad know you're okay!"
Kristjan set the glass, now drained and empty, back on the table and rested his head against his forearm. "Tell them..."
"No, if you want to tell them something, then you tell them!"
There was scratching at the door, one that caused Kristjan to frown, but he understood when he heard the tell-tale whine that accompanied it. His brother's voice followed, "You see? You've even got Kyssa worried!"
He knew that was playing dirty, given how much Kristjan doted on his canine companion, but desperate times! Aron stood outside of his brother's bedroom door and waited, hoping for some sign of life when he heard the click of the interior lock and the door shifted open just enough that he might see Kristjan's face. He looked even worse than the last time he had laid eyes on him, which was almost two days prior. Kyssa took that as a sign, and she rose up and proceeded to squeeze through the opening and into her master's bedroom.
"Kristjan," Aron started to say. "I..." But the door closed in his face, shutting him out once again. He closed his eyes and exhaled. "Damn it." He half muttered and he turned and walked away, back into the main living room of the condo where the takeout had been set out, hopefully for both of them to enjoy. Aron sat down and stared at the food, his own appetite slowly subsiding from the concern that was steadily growing for his brother's mental well-being. He casually glanced at the open laptop on the coffee table, knowing he should get online and post another "Mission failed." message to the mutual friends and family he shared with his brother.
Inside of the dark bedroom, Kristjan crawled heavily onto his bed and laid back, his head resting against the thick, cool pillows. Kyssa accepted the unspoken invitation and she crawled up onto the bed with him, as was the habit she had taken on ever since she was a pup. She shifted carefully on all fours until she snuggled up at his side and laid her head down on his chest, causing him to reach up with his hand and scratch her in her favorite spot, behind the ear. With his other hand, he reached for the bottle of Brennivín...
Gabriel and Odette Stevens' home - The next day
It was just past the hour of eleven am at the Stevens household. Odette was seated in the kitchen, reading a book, while Lucas was "helping" his dad prepare lunch for the family when the phone on the kitchen counter started the go off with the signature laughter of the Minions from the despicable Me franchise. Gabriel cast Lucas a look of bemusement and he said, "Next time I get to pick the ring tone!"
"Mom picked that one." Lucas pointed out innocently, and Gabriel gave his wife a look but only saw the twinkle of her eyes from above the book she had in hand. Gabriel picked up the phone and answered...
"Hello?" Whatever was said immediately gave Gabriel cause to frown. Odette immediately picked up on this and she lowered her book as Gabriel asked, "No, slow down Aron! ... Wait, I'll be right there! ... No, I think I know someone who can help! Just wait!"
He turned off the phone with a click and looked to Odette who asked, "What is it?"
"Kristjan's dog woke Aron up. She's whining and barking from inside of Kristjan's bedroom but he won't answer and the door is locked!"
"Oh god..." Odette's eyes widened and her skin paled slightly at the thought running through both of their minds. Kristjan, their protege, had been on the brink of despair since Sunday. "You don't think..."
"I don't know." Gabriel grabbed his car keys and hurried towards the door as quickly as he could. "I'll call you! I have one stop to make...!"
Back at Turnberry Place, Aron was kneeling in front of Kristjan's bedroom door, trying to soothe the frantic dog on the other side.
"It's okay, girl!" Aron called as he heard her continue to whine and paw at the door. "It'll be just a little longer!" He continued to offer her platitude when there was a knock on the door and he closed his eyes in relief. "Thank god..." And he stood up and half ran to the door which he yanked open, and standing there was a concerned Gabriel and a smiling Despayre.
"Gabriel!" Aron was ready to hug the man in relief. "Thanks for... Despayre? Why...?"
"He's going to get Kristjan's door open." Gabriel stated matter-of-factly as Aron stepped aside to let them enter. Despayre looked at Aron, unaware of anything happening and he asked, "Which is his bedroom?"
"The door at the end of the hall..." Aron pointed, and as Despayre hurried off, Aron turned to Gabriel with a perplexed look.
Gabriel said, "Don't worry. Despy will have that door open in no time. He hasn't met a lock he couldn't pick. Even electronic ones."
"Are you sure?" Aron asked. "I've been working on it all morning and was about ready to bust down the..."
"It's ready!" Despayre happily skipped back into the front room, with Kyssa trailing after him. Aron blinked and looked to Gabriel who managed an "Told you." before the young Icelandic man took off for the bedroom. Despayre meant to follow but Gabriel held him in check by the arm and shook his head. He waited, a sense of worry in his mind.
"Kristjan... Kristjan!!" Came Aron's frantic call from the bedroom! Gabriel turned to a wide eyed and start;ed Despayre and ordered him, "Stay here!" and he turned and ran to see what the hell was going on!
Gabriel entered the bedroom, taking no notice of his surroundings save for the open door to the private bathroom and his heart fell into his stomach. A prime place for... No. No! He darted to the door frame and saw Aron on his knees, shaking Kristjan by the shoulders. Aron's face was contorted with fear and desperation, while Kristjan was just laying out cold on the floor.
"Move." Gabriel said and he had to force Aron aside as he dropped down beside him. "Move!" Gabriel quickly grabbed his wrist and checked, then pressed his index finger against the side of his neck, breathing a sign of relief. He looked at Aron and said, "He's okay."
Aron breathed a sigh of relief, but Gabriel looked down at the pathetic sight of a man and added with an indignant shout, "Just so pissed he passed out!" He stood up, fuming. that Kristjan had done this to himself! And for what!? Saying no other words, Gabriel reached for a cup on the bathroom sink and filled it with tap water, right before he threw it right down into Kristjan's face!
"FUCKING...!!!" Kristjan roared as he was startled awake, coughing and gasping in surprise! He struggled to sit upright, his head feeling as if a marching band was playing inside of it, off-key. He opened his eyes and Gabriel saw that they were blood shot, the result of what would appear to be a week-long booze binge!
"Gabriel...?" Kristjan started to speak but Gabriel cut him off, "I was angry before, but now? Look at you! Your brother thought you were dead! I thought you were dead! I have a pregnant wife at home who is worried that you're...!"
He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. He knelt down and looked his pupil in the eye, but how much he could comprehend in his given condition was a hard pressed thought.
"Kristjan, I know what happened, and I am sorry." Gabriel said, soothing his anger into as calm a voice as he could muster. Fenris's actions towards Despayre weeks ago had angered many, but what he was doing to himself, and what could have been ... well, imagine the times when a parent is scared for their child's safety and felt the relief at their well being at the same time they wanted to strangle them for scaring them in the first place. That's how Gabriel felt, and how he was certain a great ,many people felt where Kristjan was concerned.
"It's fucked up." Gabriel added, and knew from the fact that Despy had not extended his hand for the swear jar was a testament to how seriously the little guy was taking this as well. Gabriel shook his head, "But this isn't the answer. You're not just hurting yourself. You're hurting the people around you who give a damn."
"I was not aware there were any." Came the reply, and Aron shot his brother a withering look that caused the more hot headed of the two to avert his gaze. Gabriel, however, nodded. "I'll pretend for now that I did not hear that." He answered back. "You didn't deserve to have this happen to him. Neither did Kris, but in a sense, you two did bring it on yourselves."
This brought a hard look from Kristjan and Gabriel held a hand up to stall any objections. He said, "What you two did in a public elevator, judging by the pictures in that magazine?" He shook his head. "Kristjan, what were you thinking!?"
And it was evidence enough that Kristjan said nothing in reply and simply looked down, that spoke the truth of Gabriel's words. Neither he nor Kris paid attention to their surroundings. They got lost in the moment and let it take them over, and now they were answering for it. Gabriel then said, "Mark and Christian are working on stopping that video release. So am I. We're doing everything we can, it's just ..." He frowned. "Be ready. Just in case."
Just in case ... they were unable and what happened between Kris and himself was made for public viewing.
Then he found Gabriel's hand on his arm and he looked up, and there was genuine concern and even affection in the man's demeanor.
"Nobody cares, Kristjan." He was assured. "Nobody that matters, anyway. Who you want in your bed is your business. To hell with everyone else!"
"It should have been my choice." Kristjan whispered, his throat raw. "My time..."
"You're right." Gabriel nodded. "It should have been, and would have been were it not for some asshole out looking to make some news and a quick buck. Its a personal decision, and can be difficult. But you can't turn back time and change what happened." Gabriel shook his head. "All you can do is move on."
He slowly stood up and moved to leave, but paused and turned back to Kristjan and said, "For once, use that ego and stubborn nature to your advantage. Get past this. Move on." He then leaned over slightly for emphasis, forcing Kristjan to meet his eye as he added, "And don't ever scare us like this again!"
Gabriel then made to take his leave, saying to Despayre, "Come on Despy."
"But I wanna see if he has a breakdown."
Gabriel smirked, knowing Despy's innocent comment was not to be taken as it sounded. He placed a hand on the small of his back and escorted him from the room, with their voices trailing after them...
"Come on." Gabriel prodded.
"I had a breakdown once." Despayre said as their voices retreated further into the condo. "It might make a nice change of pace?"
Only after he heard the door of the condo shut behind them, did Aron turn to face and confront his brother. Now that he had nowhere to run. Aron exhaled, knowing how bad Kristjan was feeling right now, physically as well as emotional. He started to speak when Kristjan suddenly sat upright, holding up a hand to stop him. His eyes went wide and he spun around and lurched over the bathtub and became sick -- violently so! The end result of consuming so much alcohol on an empty stomach! Aron recoiled in disgust, as most would, but such was the love for his older brother that he still moved over to hold his long hair back and place a reassuring hand on his shoulder while he got it all out of his system.
It took forever, seemingly so, and finally Kristjan slowly turned around, his body glistening with perspiration, his shirt almost soaked through, and leaned back against the edge of the tub while Aron ran the water to wash it out. Aron passed a wet rag to Kristjan, along with a glass of water to wash the taste from his mouth. After dabbing at his flesh and spitting the water into the tub, did Aron sit on the edge beside him, forearms propped on his knees.
"Feeling better?" He asked, to which Kristjan could only nod slightly. "Can't say you didn't deserve that." After a moment, Kristjan looked up into the concerned blue eyes and he was asked, "Why didn't you tell me? Or anyone in the family? I'm your brother for gods sake!"
"Tell you what?" Kristjan sighed. "You saw the pictures. Did you want me to explain what we were doing? How after we were done there we went to Kris's hotel room and fucked each others' brains out until noon!?"
"One," Aron held up a hand, eyes closed. "TMI. And two, wow." He shook his head. "You know damn well what I mean, K. I'm your brother! You could have told me. You didn't have to keep this a secret!"
"Maybe I didn't think it was anyone's business."
"It's not anyone's business, K!" Aron replied hotly. "But having something like this bottled up, like you can't be yourself, it can only hurt you! Who the hell knows!? maybe it's why you're always so angry all the time!"
Kristjan openly scoffed at this. After a moment, Aron said, "Mom and dad are worried. You need to talk to them." Kristjan simply nodded, and Aron went on, "Freyja, everyone was worried."
Again, Kristjan scoffed, not taking into account their two other sisters whom they did not get along with. But Aron nodded, "Yeah, them too apparently. Viktoria got fired two days ago."
"Big surprise there."
"I'd say it was." Aron said. "Her coworker made a joke about what happened and she decked him!"
This bit of news drew Kristjan's attention and he looked at his brother as if he were trying to discern the fabrication, but he saw nothing. Aron shrugged, but mused with the barest trace of a smile. "Yeah. She actually defended you. Apparently it's one thing for her to treat you like filth, but god help anyone else who talks shit about her brother."
Kristjan turned back away with a contemplative expression on his tired face, not knowing what to make of that bit of news. If anything. He closed his eyes for but a moment when he heard the pad of soft paws on the wood-tile floors. He opened them and gave Kyssa a tired smile. She stepped into the bathroom and made to rest along side of him, while Aron stood up to leave and give her room.
"So," Aron finally spoke. "You and Kris? Does this mean you two are...?"
But Kristjan shook his head and answered, "He's married. Just had a bit of fun. Just friends." He paused before adding, "Maybe with benefits."
"Yeah, TMI." Aron groaned, stating again. "Do you want to eat?" He asked, but knew the answer already before it was even uttered with a groan, "Fuck no!"
As Kyssa laid across Kristjan's lap, Aron stood at thee door and asked, "Are you going to be okay?"
Kristjan shrugged, and a barely audible, "I don't know." followed. It was a start. Better than a definitive no.
"Don't do this again, K." Aron shook his head. "Swear it."
Kristjan said nothing, but held up two fingers in a Scout salute. Satisfied, Aron quietly stepped out of the bathroom, relieved his brother was on a slow mend.
And only a day later, and the World Heavyweight Champion was back at work, attempting to force himself back into the mental state that had helped gain him championship gold at such an early stage of his pro wrestling career. Fenris had braved the public eye, maneuvering past the reporters and fans that awaited him in the parking garage of the Turnberry Towers and headed for the training facility of the Stevens. he had, of course, been followed, but the more aggressive people had been threatened with trespassing charges by Gabriel.
Burned bridges being mended.
The first thing Gabriel did was set Fenris on the treadmill to run, hopefully to sweat the lingering effects of all that booze from his charge's system. He knew the threat Dmitri was to any who set foot inside of the ring, and the fact that the world title would be up for grabs, then that threat was magnified tenfold.
He spoke, smoothly and freely, as the usual subtitles flowed across the bottom of the screen.
"What can I say? I've had a rough week, and just now am I starting to feel like my old self. The hell I went through isn't going to end any time soon, call it a hunch. But I don't want you thinking, Dmitri, that what happened to Kris and myself Sunday will give you any kind of advantage over me. What happened, was private. A personal violation between us."
Fenris cast a look into the camera.
"But that's just it, isn't it? It was personal, not professional. What is going to happen between you and me?" He motioned between the camera and himself with a forefinger. "That is professional."
He stepped off of the treadmill finally, and grabbed a towel to wipe the sweat from his head and neck. He placed it on his gym bag and moved over to a training bag that was hung from the ceiling. Taking a pair of MMA gloves from his gym bag, he slipped them on while continuing.
"And professional is where it will matter the most this Sunday when I head to California to put so much on the line, more than you have to offer up in return, Dmitri. I am putting my heart and soul on the line. I am putting my pride, my unbeaten streak on the line! I am putting the World Heavyweight Championship on. The. Line!"
He moved into place in front of the bag and he started to throw hard jabs into the rough leather, sending it swaying heavily.
"I know what you can accomplish, Dmitri, when you set your mind to it. Anyone worth a shit in this business knows who the hell you are and what you can do. You are the man who took J2H to the brink of defeat multiple times, but you couldn't quite jump over the hurdle, could you? But the fact you gave him some of his toughest fights is why any fighter should look at you with awe and respect, or at the very least -- respect. You even managed to take the world title eventually, but that was almost a year ago. And now? Something about you has changed. What could that be?"
He paused to glance into the camera.
"A flaw, a vulnerability that may or may not have been there before, but one that opposition has started to exploit to some degree of success. You lost matches to some who you never should have lost to. Equinox, for example. I half expected you to pulverize that sorry little shit, but to watch him pin you?"
He frowned.
"Daaamn! Even I was disappointed! I wanted to see you beat him, and move up to where you should be! But guess what? Here you are!"
He swept his arms out with a sarcastic smile.
"You came close to winning the Ultimate X and get to face me at Summer XXXTreme VI, but here you are anyway! I guess after I beat Ty's ass into the ground, as the first runner up, the bosses thought you were the next step to take before I finally get Kris Ryans into the ring at Violent Conduct V! And hey, that's fine! Perfect, even! I don't mind using you as a stepping stone to get what I deserved since winning Blast From the Past! And no, I am not going to think you're an easy step to take. You are a fighter to the highest fucking order, and I fully expect you to beat me into the mat from the start of the match, right up until the finish when I wrap you up so tight you'll have nowhere to go and no other options but to tap!"
"I imagine I may have caught you unaware last time around, when we could have faced each other, didn't I? For so long, all you could do is focus on the way your opponents would over look you and what you are, and you could use that against them when they realized their grievous error."
He shook his head.
"But not me. I didn't give you the satisfaction then, and I'm not giving it to you now. Who am I to judge or say whether or not you walk the night as dhampir? An undead who feast and sustains himself on the life of others?"
He shrugged and again focused on the bag, throwing gloved fists at it.
"Such things have been rumored to exist for thousands of years, right up until this day. Scientists tell us since it can't be proven with science, it can't exist. You know what I say to that?"
He looked to the camera.
"If science can't prove it exists, then fuck off! Take a look at the world around us! It is filled with an air of mystery! Did you know, Dmitri, that there is a mountain range in the UK, known as Ben Macdui where there is a fabled specter that drives man mad with fear? Or a lake in Vancouver where a water beast has been rumored to exist for centuries! It is so believed in that the Canadian government declared it a protected endangered species! So I will not dispute you for who and what you are! I embrace it! I celebrate it! And that fact alone will be the reason that you will have no sway over me inside of that ring! You won;t intimidate a man that celebrates the Norse pantheon, and waits the return of Balder! You can't instill fear in a Norse man who walks alongside the Choosers of the Slain on the battlefields between men! The Valkyries give me strength over my rivals! My faith gives me all I need to fight and prevail! I will not succumb to the grief I have experienced these past days! I won't allow it!"
"And in case you are wondering about my leg, and whether or not you can take advantage of what Crimson started to your own benefit...?"
Fenris turned to the bag and delivered a hard kick with the injured limb, sending it rocking! He then lowered his leg and stared straight at the camera.
"You'd be a god damn fool not to try it, but an even bigger one for thinking it might do you any good! So do whatever the hell you think you have to, because all it is going to accomplish is make me even more determined to walk away the winner! I said it before, I have this sick desire to see just what it takes to make an undead tap out, and who knows Dmitri?"
He gave the camera a smirk.
"This may just be the time! I was never much of an inquisitive soul, but this time I just might make an exception. So please, come at me. Fight me with the belief that your unholy life span and your size will give you every advantage over me. Let others fill your head with lies that what I went through both in and out of the ring will play the role in my defeat and your being crowned a two-time champion. I won't begrudge you those delusions of self grandeur. Hell! If I were you, I'd do the same! But I'm not. I am Fenris. I am the White Wolf. I am the SCW World Heavyweight Champion! This belt stays with me until I am ready to give it up! I am not about to allow you to take away my property, and deny me my right in proving to everyone that I am the one true World Champion when I get Kris Ryans inside of the ring!"
He pointed a finger at the camera.
"You, Dmitri, are just an obstacle in my path. Take this opportunity to remember the natural enemy of a vampire."
He smiled and nodded.
"That's right. The wolf!" He looked contemplative for a moment. "Well, werewolf to be more exact, but you get my meaning. And this Wolf here?"
He tapped a finger into his chest.
"It has had a very bad week! I've been attacked. Humiliated. But always I will fight back. So you'll forgive me for being distracted Dmitri, but this has been a fucking rough week! And I'm afraid that I'm going to have to vent my frustrations inside of the ring and take it out on you."
"You understand."
That being said, Fenris turned away from the camera and resumed his training session.
