December 15 -
Current
“What the fuck just happened?”
That was all that Fenris could ask himself as he sat on the folding chair in the cordoned off area of the Gold Coast, used for the Superstars and Bombshells as their respective dressing rooms for the night’s events. His elbows were propped up on his knees and his head rested in both of his hands, fingers weaving in and through his long strands of dark, blonde hair as he attempted, without much success, to process what had just happened.
Things were going his way, just as he had expected. Fenris knew that with odds like this stacked against not just him, but every man in this match hoping for success, he had to not only pull out all stops, but new ones as well. Something that he had never before done, or at the very least, rarely done before. That had been where his trainer in the world of Mixed Martial Arts had come into play as he trained for this world title opportunity in relative seclusion. Gabriel and Odette had him at their GO Gym night and day, ensuring one of their prize students would be ready to once again take the world by storm and become a two-time SCW World Heavyweight Champion. And while the Stevens handled all things wrestling related, Fenris’s MMA coach, Maksym Petrov, arrived in order to lend a helping hand, quite literally. While Fenris considered himself an expert in his training, Maksym as well as Gabriel had practically beat it into him that ‘nobody’ ever stopped being a student of what they were passionate about; be it professional wrestling or Mixed Martial Arts.
Gabriel had discussed privately with Maksym ad away from even the ears of their charge that he wanted something new for Fenris’s arsenal, something his prospective opponents had not seem him use before so they would be unable to counter at the drop of a hat until it was seemingly too late. Maksym had the perfect solution, the answer coming to him in the form of the Kirifuda Clutch, a wrestling submission hold so dangerous and complex that only a handful of competitors had mastered to perfection.
Maksym had demonstrated the hold on Fenris, and even Gabriel himself, challenging either man to find a counter once they had been locked inside. Neither man was able, and so Gabriel had deemed it the perfect answer to bring another world title home to one of his students. He and Maskym worked tirelessly at teaching Fenris not only how to properly apply the hold, but when to do so and how to keep an opponent from escaping once it was locked in tight. Gabriel even had some of his newer students, young men yet unnamed, eagerly looking for that hopeful entry into the world of wrestling subjected to the hold as both a lesson as well as training opportunity for them as well as the more experienced “White Wolf.” Both teachers even insisted Fenris apply the hold to the both of them before they were satisfied he had it down perfectly.
So what happened?
Less than an hour ago…
The match had been everything SCW had promised their fans and more! All six Superstars had given it their all from the very beginning, each showing great promise and potential. The match was winding down to its final moments until only three Superstars remained; two former World Champions and a man who would soon prove that destiny was on his side. Before Ben had even been called to the ring, Fenris and Austin James Mercer engaged in a heated combat until all of the training on the part of Gabriel and Maksym hit home. Fenris managed to duck behind the taller, heavier Austin and locked him in the Kirafuda clutch, a former of a rear naked choke where Fenris put a foot into the back of Austin’s knee, undoing his size advantage and bringing him down into a body scissors combination.
Much to Austin’s credit and fighting prowess, the former champion did not submit. He passed out, unable to break the hold, leaving it down to just two. Ben Jordan entered the match and the fans got what they wanted; “The White Wolf” versus “the Cockney King!” Admittedly Ben was all about the sportsmanship, while Fenris was business as usual. And if their inevitable one-on-one encounter was anything like their all-too brief encounter this evening, the SCW Universe had the makings of a classic!
Then Ben made the critical error of allowing Fenris to get in position behind him, where the submission expert was able to again lock in and secure the Kirafuda clutch! Ben was fading, and Fenris knew it! Fenris had him, and Ben knew it! And that's when it happened. Fenris swung Ben down to the canvas to secure the hold, just like he had done to Austin, only the momentum shifted against him. Fenris was unable to secure the body scissors before Ben rolled backwards on top of his own upper body while still in the hold and before he could contemplate what was happening, the three count resulted in a brand new World Champion … and it was not Fenris.
Current
He remained that way for what had seemed an eternity, ever since the conclusion of the night’s main event and he had walked past all the well-wishers who wanted to pay him their respects and offer him their heartfelt condolences on the loss. He did not say a word -- to anyone. With Aron at his side to shield him from the brunt of it, Fenris made eye contact and gave an acknowledging nod to both Mark Ward and Christian Underwood when they praised the performance. But that was it. Anyone else who tried was met with cold indifference as he turned his back against the far wall and, like the other five competitors in the match, waited for the new champion to make his triumphant entrance.
Now? The vast majority of the rosters had left the floor to get something to eat, have a few drinks in the Casino bars or even make use of the various games of chance. Fenris received his fair share of invites, but after awhile and so many none-too-pleasant responses, he had been left alone. Just how he wanted it.
“K?” Aron’s soft voice drew his brother’s head upright and his eyes and the top half of his nose were all that was visible over his interlocked fingers of both hands. Fenris simply looked at him expectantly with his blue eyes and an eyebrow arose, before Aron slid inside of the dressing room and shut the door behind him. Aron would ordinarily have full access to the dressing room as an SCW Superstar in his own right, albeit in a managerial capacity, but he wanted to give his volatile elder sibling some breathing space, knowing he was bitterly disappointed.
Aron said, “There’s some more reporters outside who want to talk to you?”
“Tell them to fuck off.” Fenris responded without a second thought. Aron stared at him for a brief moment, shrugging his shoulders to say, “K, I can’t…”
Fenris interrupted and added, “And tell them if they try to corner me outside when I leave, I’ll put my foot so far up their ass I’ll kick their teeth from the inside out!”
“You can’t hide from reporters forever K.” Aron started to try to get through to him but his brother threw his arms down and glared hard at him, barking, “I can sure as shit TRY!”
“K…” “Aron, give me a break!” Fenris’s voice rose to drown out his little brother’s attempts to reason with him. “I just need some time -- please!”
Aron exhaled, knowing he must be feeling bad if he actually used the dreaded word ‘please.’ Aron turned around and stepped out of the dressing room, ready to shut the door and leave Fenris in isolation when Gabriel Stevens approached, holding the hand of his four year old son, Lucas. Gabriel reached for the door when Aron tried to intervene.
“Gabriel, he really wants to be left alone.”
“Who doesn’t?” Gabriel answered matter-of-factly before pushing the door open without a second thought and escorting his boy inside.
“I thought I said…!” But whatever Fenris was about to say was cut short as he looked up sharply and saw not only the man who helped bring him into the world of professional wrestling, but his little boy as well. Fenris was not a child person by any stretch of the imagination, but for some strange reason, the four year old Lucas seemed captivated by him. The child’s eyes practically sparkled as he gazed on the man across the dressing room, and a light wisp of a smile lit up his already cherubic face.
Fenris ran his hands down his face and then sat upright, expecting and asked, “What?”
“This one…” Gabriel tilted his head to indicate his son. “... insisted we check on you. He thought you might be unhappy.” Fenris looked away and scoffed, drawing a frown from his mentor who said, “Seems he was right. What’s the matter with you?”
“What’s the matter?” Fenris repeated with a tone of extreme disbelief. His eyes narrowed and he gave a slight shake of the head as he responded, “Are you kidding me? Did you not pay attention to what just happened out there??”
“Yeah, so what?” Gabriel shrugged as he walked over and grabbed a second folding chair, presumably for himself. “You and those other five had one hell of a match…”
“I lost Gabriel!” Fenris stated hotly. Gabriel briefly stared at his pupil, the chair in his hand, before he nonchalantly spun it around and straddled the seat while resting his forearms on the back of the chair.
“So you lost. It happens. It wasn’t the first time, and I hate to be the one to tell you this but…” He caught his student’s eye and shook his head. “It won’t be the last time, either.”
Fenris started to respond but before the words could escape his lips, he was caught by surprise by a certain four year old who managed to find his way onto Fenris’s lap. What was that we said earlier about the child finding this big lug so captivating? This was prime evidence right here, and Gabriel was unable to stop himself from feeling more than a small amount of pride in his son. Lucas was sharp for his tender age, and knew when someone didn’t feel well, be it physically or emotionally. And there indeed was something about the ordinarily angry Icelandic man across from him that kept his child engrossed. Like a favorite uncle. For all of his anger issues, Gabriel and Odette’s first born seemed to be his own Achilles heel.
Almost by instinct, Fenris’s arm reached around the boy to keep him safe while he sat perched on his lap, and Lucas simply sat there, his small fingers idly intertwining in Fenris’s long, blond locks. Gabriel tried to ignore the flush of embarrassment that colored the man’s neck and ears from the attention he received -- but the smile spoke volumes at how unsuccessful his attempt was.
Gabriel stressed before Fenris could find his words, “Kristjan, you have nothing to be ashamed of.” He held a hand up to stop him from saying anything to the contrary so he could speak himself, “I know. Your family was here tonight and you wanted to win for their sake. Maybe show off a little extra for your sisters?”
“I am never going to hear the end of this…” Fenris shook his head.
“They’ll get over it.” Gabriel said calmly as he leaned forward, watching him with a critical eye until Fenris felt compelled to look up and away from the son and to the father. Gabriel continued, “Let me try to put this into perspective for you. You’ve been wrestling professionally since April of `17, correct?” Once Fenris yielded with a nod of acknowledgment, Gabriel went on, “In that time, you’ve been pinned -- twice. I don’t care what Mercedes Vargas says about these other matches on your record. You may not have won every time, but you also haven’t been beaten directly more than twice. That’s an impressive record, Kristjan. And if that doesn’t help, then try this; you lost to Ben Jordan. I lost to JT Underwood.”
“Who?” Fenris frowned.
“My point exactly.” Gabriel stood up and set the chair back against the far wall, before turning to his son. “Come on. We should let Kristjan get dressed…” But as he said this, Lucas reached his small hand toward Fenris’s ear and pulled out a 50 aurar krona, an Icelandic coin. Fenris blinked, then looked at Gabriel and quirked a brow.
“Learning from Dad?”
“Hardly!” Gabriel laughed as he took Lucas’s hand and helped him off of Kristjan’s lap. “I gave him a nickel to use!”
Fenris watched as Gabriel led his son from the room, Lucas paused at the door just long enough to wave to him, a gesture Fenris surprisingly returned. After the door closed shut behind them and a moment’s pause after, Fenris heard the vibrating sound of his iPhone go off, signaling he had an incoming message. Probably someone else who saw what happened and wanted to wish their ‘condolences.’ He picked up his phone and had a look at the message…
“Feel like hanging out when you get home after the holidays?”
~W
Fenris genuinely smiled.
Las Vegas, Nevada - the Golden Ring Casino
Earlier this week
Not in the Casino itself, per se, but the sports bar that had opened not that long ago to cater to an altogether different clientele who was more interested in sporting events rather than losing their hard-earned money to the house playing the likes of poker and roulette. Unless they were into losing their income betting on boxing and football -- that was alright. The bar was busy, as was the norm for the local business endeavor of the London Underground. Music played distantly in the background while some patrons came and went from the bar to the casino floor, while others kept to themselves, mingling and watching the latest broadcast on any one of the many large, flat screens stationed on every wall in view.
Against the far wall, up a small set of steps to a second level floor, away from both prying ears as well as eyes, sat Fenris and the young woman we had been introduced to several weeks ago, Willow. Seated at one of the only tables on that walkway, Fenris nursed his Einstok white ale, a special import courtesy of Mackenzie Page herself of London Underground, while the red haired Willow had a Malibu Sunset in hand. While Kristjan was dressed in his usual casual attire, it appeared Willow took a little more personal care in her appearance for this friendly ‘date,’ as she was dressed in a black, flowing mini dress and matching high heels.
“I can’t believe you actually came back to Las Vegas.” Fenris said after a swallow of beer, setting the pint down. “I would have thought the city would leave a bad taste in your mouth after what happened.”
“I live in California, so it’s not that far out of my way.” Willow pointed out with a smile that was equal parts charming as well as cutting edge. “And besides, can you really blame me for taking a drive to see my favorite Knight in Shining Armor?”
“Fucks sake!” Kristjan muttered, knowing she was referencing the time they had first met, when he had saved her from her abusive boyfriend at the time on the public street of the Vegas Strip. Willow smiled brilliantly at his discomfort, knowing he had done what he did out of necessity, not for any desire to be rewarded or acknowledged. It had just been the right thing to do at the time.
She then picked up her light pink cocktail with cherries floating against the ice and took a sip, eyebrows rising before she acknowledged, “Las Vegas isn’t so bad. Granted I wouldn’t want to live here…”
“Not even to be closer to me?” Kristjan chided, his own smile bearing cockiness to it. Willow fanned herself with her hand, openly teasing him with a lilt to her words, “Oh how you make me swoon!”
Two passers by paused as they walked by to meet friends, perhaps having recognized the man seated at the table. The familiar sight of SCW and SCU stars at the Casino was nothing out of the ordinary and many would stop and ask for an autograph or a photo op, but both Kristjan as well as Willow eyed the men until whatever request they had in mind was swept aside and they moved on.
The young woman stirred her drink with the thin straw given her, asking idly, “Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you?”
“Not really, no.” Came the expected answer, to which she could admit to little or no surprise. He added, “Besides, what makes you think that something is bothering me?”
“Oh maybe the fact that you’re being so uptight you could probably stand up and pick up your chair at the same time without using your hands.” Willow quipped. Kristjan frowned, perhaps not quite understanding her meaning. She then said with a degree of seriousness, “You’re not exactly a hard person to read. Unless that whole ‘anal retentive’ act you have going is a perpetual thing.”
“If you listen to my brother or my trainer, it is.” Kristjan said, causing her to smile once again and rest her chin in the palm of her hand as she said, “And I happen to find that trait absolutely enthralling!” Just as he took a drink from his glass and froze, giving her a narrow side-eyed glance.
Willow rolled her eyes and said, “Christ you couldn’t drag a needle out of your ass with a tractor! C’mon…!” She stood up, grabbing at his hand as Walk the Moon’s “Shut Up and Dance” started playing from somewhere in the bar.
“What… what are you…?” Fenris tried pulling back but the young woman was unrelenting. She said, “If you won’t confide in a beautiful woman, then the least you can do is loosen up and dance with her!”
“Dance!?” He protested. “But there’s no dance floor in here!”
“Easily rectified!” She exclaimed as she dragged him from their table by the wrist!
“I’m not nearly drunk enough to..”
“Tough! Move!”
With tables moved aside, several people were then treated to the startling sight of the normally uptight and introverted Kristjan dancing quite impressively side-b-side with the red haired Willow, while between the patrons stood a very surprised tandem of Dani Weston, Charlotte Elliot and Mackenzie Page, watching on.
“I didn’t know Kristjan could dance like that.” Mackenzie exclaimed, then shifted her eyes to her teammate with an impish smirk. “I bet you didn’t either.”
A dusty setting, the soft overhead light casting its low illuminance through rays of light shining through the grimy windows, past the light scattering of dust in the old, slightly worn down building. Centered on the bare concrete floor steward what has come to be known in mixed martial arts circles as a lion's den enclosed ring. A wire mesh cage surrounding all sides of the octagon platform, it was indeed an imposing sight. No, in case you were not aware or have been living under a rock, this was not the famed GO Gymnasium, the house of champions in the making.
It was a privately owned facility, used to train hopefuls who wanted to make their way into the world of MMA. Or in this case, a man whose own career in that very world had become wildly successful.
A behind angle shot showcases that very man, Fenris, walking toward the Lions Den with a deliberately slow approach.
“It has been awhile, has it not? The last time that you and I met was in a fatal 4-way match in March of last year. The last time, and only time, we met in singles competition was almost one year ago to the Day. January 11th, 2019. Fenris vs Jake Raab. SCW vs Honor. Title vs. Title unification. Do you remember that Jake? Because I sure as hell do. While I had won the title several months before that, it was this match against you that I believe truly solidified my standing as the World Heavyweight Champion. There are still several people that claimed it should have been Austin James Mercer in that match against me, representing Honor as their champion. I should know because I happen to be one of them. But only because I believed it should have been one of their roster representing their promotion against the very best that Sin City Wrestling had to offer. But what happened during the course of that match between you and I?”
Fenris paused en route to the enclosure and cast a glance back over his shoulder and toward the camera, this toward Jake Raab himself.
“That changed my entire outlook where you are concerned, Raab.”
The caged door closed, shutting the former World Champion off from the outside world.
“Your critics can say whatever the fuck they want about what they think you are or aren’t capable of. I don’t know, and you shouldn’t care! But nobody had ever made me bleed the way you did, in wrestling or in this octagon cage that both you and I made a hard fought living in! I had over a dozen stitches because of you, and was put on almost two weeks recovery time. Now, I'm not really one to hold a grudge…”
He closed his eyes and smiled, shaking his head in faux disbelief.
“Okay, even I didn’t buy that! I am the type to hold a bit of a grudge, and having a beating the likes of which you laid on me? Yeah! After so long I would still say that I told you one for that! The fact that you made me bleed and scared family and friends alike just makes me all the more determined to return the favor this time around! I imagine that you think going into this match that you have the advantage both psychologically as well as where momentum is concerned, given that you were victorious in your match at December 2 Dismember IV while I was not. But granted your match was just against “Bulldog” Bill Barnhart, while me? I was in the main event, competing for the World Heavyweight Championship. Again.”
Fenris swung around on his feet in the center of the cage in a fighting stance, jabbing a rapid fired fist straight at the camera.
“No disrespect intended toward Bill, of course. But that match was just another billed Alpha vs Alpha, a match that is seemingly a dime a dozen as Americans might say. The trouble is, this time you’re not just up against any Alpha, Jake. You’re up against THE Alpha. And yes, we have went over the facts that you both made me bleed as well as hurt me physically. But we have not pointed out is the backed up just who walked away from that match the winner, holding not just one but two championship belts when they arrived backstage!”
“Yes, Jake, you may have scored an upset in stripping the honor Championship away from Austin James Mercer, but you sure as hell did not hold it for long before I stripped it from you! And since then, you have been doing everything possible to step out from the shadow that I cast over you that very night! I don't care whether it's in a professional wrestling ring or the cage that you see me in here and now. The simple fact of the matter is Jake, that is good as you are, you are nowhere near my level!”
Fenris then takes this opportunity to break and perform some shadow fighting routines, throwing right and left handed jabs with gloved fists before lashing out with striking kicks. After several moments, he paused with a glistening sheen of perspiration on his brow as he looked into the camera.
“Inside of the ring, you are an opponent to be respected. So I do not know why so many opponents seem to have it out for you, talking down on your in ring skills. What you did to me in our title vs. Title match, that should speak highly enough of what you're capable of as a competitor. Outside of the ring? It's not your fault that you have the personality of a dial tone. Did you honestly believe that dressing up like some DC Superhero, playing with a bow and arrow, would make you more marketable to the fans? When that doesn't work, what next? Buy a blond wig and a pair of elf ears and market yourself as that closeted gay elf from Lord of the Rings?”
Fenris scoffed in blatant disbelief.
“I can’t imagine what you hope to accomplish with that bullshit, but if you’re hoping that it will endear you in the eyes of fans and peers, then you are sadly mistaken! All you are doing is making yourself a joke in the locker room. So here is a small piece of advice; get rid of whatever dumb ass fucker it is that’s getting you to do these things and just fucking BE. YOURSELF! Let the world get to know the REAL Jake Raab, and maybe -- just maybe -- you’ll actually manage to get somewhere in this business!
“And I don’t want you to take that as me belittling you or your accomplishments because I am not. I have told many that you are a fighter that I respect because you gave me the one thing I crave above all else; real competition! No, I’m just stating a simple fact that I am better than you in every way conceivable. And you can rest assured that for every stitch you put in my head, I am going to pay you back tenfold! I am not going to settle for kicking your head off the way I did the last time we met. No, this time I am going to up the stakes and send a message home to you by doing whatever it takes to make you tap and acknowledge to everyone that I am the one and only Alpha in Sin City Wrestling!”
Fenris then extended an index finger and jabbed at the camera lens, tapping it.
“I know that you’re out there Jake, watching. Watching and waiting for this video to go live, and why? Because as I’ve stated; a lack of imagination. So that you can watch every little thing that I do and listen to every little thing I say and respond to everything. In the animal kingdom, the smallest insects and animals use mimicry in order to adapt and survive. You? You use it to survive - me.”
His fingers then clasped around the mesh of the octagon cage and he smiled in a predatory manner.
“More power to you, Jake. But it’s not going to do you a damn bit of good when all is said and done. Because in case you weren’t aware, wolves are among the most territorial of all creation in the entire animal kingdom. The ring is my territory Jake, and you’ve crossed over where you can’t go back. And now I am going to meet you head on… tooth for claw.”
