<img align=left src= "http://www.geocities.ws/scwmaterial/Pictures/FenrisPicture01.jpg" height=326 width=369>Reykjavík, Iceland -
Borgarholtsskóli Primary School
Flashbacks. Don’t you just love them? They give us a chance of taking a stroll down memory lane and visiting times past, if for no other reason than to help a story in the present to move forward. They are a useful tool when one wants to explore the characterization of what made somebody the person they are. For example, a great many people know “the White Wolf” Fenris by who and what they see week in and week out on social media as well as where he has made his mark in the professional wrestling industry, Sin City Wrestling. But therein lies the point; what you see now is the destination, the proverbial “end of the journey” even were it not the end. But what about the journey itself? What about when and where that journey first started?
Fenris, as you might recall, is an intensely private person. He dislikes anyone attempting to get too close to delving into his private life which he prefers to remain just that -- private. The only reason anyone had even found out about his sexuality was because of a lack of judgement between Kris Ryans and himself, and an outside source who wished to use it to their advantage in making some extra money. His family had not even known. And everything else about him? His personal as well as private life, he holds close to him. And only a handful of those he cares about as family and friends know what he’s willing to share.
So, if you don’t tell him I shared the following with you, I certainly won’t.
The school grounds are somewhat familiar territory for those who have kept up to date on SCW’s first Icelandic Superstar. It was where Kristjan and all of his siblings had attended until graduation, but this goes back a little further than even that, as Kristjan had not even reached the age of thirteen yet. The school day had not even officially started yet, and there was already a crowd of rowdy children in front of the school, gathered in a semi-circle around two boys who were on the ground, swinging their fists into one another's heads and bodies. Until one lad, slightly leaner but with a definition to his slight build even then, had worked his way on top of the other boy and effectively pinned him down and rained blow after blow into his exposed face!
Until school officials raced onto the scene, having been alerted at the impromptu brawl, and it took three male teachers to drag the twelve year old Kristjan off of the other boy who was being assisted to his feet by a fourth teacher and the school nurse…
***
The office of the school’s headmistress, Missus Agneta Finnvarðsdóttir was quiet, reserved. The fifty-something year old woman had a steel reserve to her, and when dealing with the actions of well over five hundred students and fifty faculty members, she had to. But she was also reserved, and kind. The students, even those who had the proverbial chip on their shoulders (such as Kristjan for example) could not describe her as anything but fair.
That was why Kristjan’s parents, Eva and Benedikt, had been called in for a private meeting with her over what had happened, as opposed to her simply suspending their son, or worse; expelling him. Either which would have been a just course of action.
As she sat behind her desk, Eva and Benedikt sat on the opposite side. Both with concerned expressions on their faces, and you could simply read the embarrassment that both were feeling. After all, what parent wanted to be called into their child’s school over such things? It reflects badly on them, or at least that is what they believed.
With her elbows on the cusp of her desk, and her chin resting on steepled fingers, Agneta (we are NOT repeating that woman’s surname!), simply started this parent-teacher meeting with a simple yet profound statement, “Kristjan has an anger problem.”
“I don’t understand.” Benedikt replied. “My son gets into a scrap or two and you simply assume he has anger issues?”
“He fights all the time.” Was the headmistress’s only response, to which Benedikt leaned forward in his seat with a perplexed expression, “Why is this the first time that I’m hearing about this?”
Headmistress Agneta said, “We’ve sent messages home with him each time.” Which only caused Benedikt to turn and look at his wife, and Eva was unable to look her husband in the eyes. He already knew how protective she was over her children’s welfare, and she had hidden this from him for one reason or another; either because she was worried how he might punish Kristjan, or to protect the image most fathers have of their sons, especially their eldest one.
Just ten feet away, outside of the office where his parents were currently meeting with his Headmistress and most likely discussing certain repercussions for his fight with Unnar, the twelve year old Kristjan sat on the center chair that rested up against the office wall. His face was downtrodden, yet defiant. He looked down at the book bag that was huddled on his lap and against his chest, refusing on principle to look up even though he knew the secretary was stealing her own looks his way. Judging him. He knew if he looked up and saw her watching him, he’d say something that he’d regret -- especially when his mom and dad were sitting just a few feet away. He bore his own ‘war wounds’ from the fight earlier, as his bottom lip had been busted open and a lovely shiner was forming under his left eye. Still, he gave as good as he got.
Benedikt sat back once more and exhaled gently, rubbing a hand along his chin. He asked, “So, what happens now? Are you going to suspend him? Expel…?”
“No, no!” Eva objected at the mention of expulsion. She held up a hand for emphasis as she said, “Kristjan is a good boy!”
“”I’m aware he is -- deep down.” Headmistress Agneta said with that warm smile that had set many a students’ minds at ease. “Which is why I did a little research for Kristjan’s benefit while waiting for you to arrive.” She slid a small stack of papers across the surface of her desk.
“What sort of ‘research’?” Benedikt asked as he took the papers and leafed through them while Eva leaned over in her seat to have a look as well.
“After-school activities that might be beneficial for him.” Agneta answered. “The school counselor helped me, but like me, he believes that Kristjan’s anger issues are why he has been getting into so many altercations with his fellow students. These…” She motioned to the papers. “... Might give him the needed outlet.”
Eva said, “But he is already on the football team, and swimming.”
That was a fact about Borgarholtsskóli, that it had an extensive sports scheme to better fulfill the needs of their students, both male and female. Basketball. Football. Golf. Ice Hockey. They were but a few. And Kristjan had been on two of the sports teams just because he enjoyed athletic encounters and had a desire to prove himself the best, even way back when.
Headmistress Agneta said, “And as wonderful as they are for him to learn the importance of teamwork and to build friendships, these… they may be better suited for his individuality.”
“Boxing??” Eva read from the list of after-school activities, then shook her head. “No. Absolutely not!” Her son was handsome, and she did not want to risk his looks or his health in such a barbaric sport as boxing.
“”We can discuss it at home.” Benedikt said, to which his wife disagreed and asked, “What is there to discuss? He is not…” But Benedikt interrupted, “At home. He said simply, standing up and resigned, Eva did so as well. Benedikt shook the papers at Agneta who stood as well, and he said, “We will look into these. Thank you.”
“About his suspension…?” Eva added, to which the Headmistress sighed in resignation. “That I can not ignore. Fighting is strictly forbidden and he has to be punished this time. As it’s Wednesday, he is suspended for the remainder of the week. He can return to school on Monday.”
They did not like it, but it was better than the alternative of an expulsion. Eva and Benedikt said their goodbyes and quietly exited the office. Through the glass panel windows, Headmistress Agneta watched them gather up their son and leave the school with him in tow…
Las Vegas, Nevada -
Saxon Hotel
And before we continue on with our story, we have to make a fast forward journey back into the present. (Wait, is it fast forwarding when taking place in the present?) Look at me, getting all philosophical! We are, in fact, back in the current time frame, Saturday May 30th. The aforementioned Kristjan Baltasarsson was laying back on his bed in the two-bedroom suite he was sharing with his brother Aron. His laptop was open on his lap (how appropriate) and he had a surprisingly calm expression on his face. And small wonder why; he was currently talking to his beloved baby sister, Freyja, on video chat.
“So how are you feeling?” Kristjan asked, emphasizing, “Really.”
“I’m fine, Kristjan.” The little sister that even Ben Jordan had thought of as a little ‘sweetheart’ answered. Then when Kristjan stared hard into the camera and raised that single eyebrow, she rolled her eyes. “I swear, I’m fine!”
“You’re not just saying that so Aron stops worrying?” Kristjan asked, but she wasn’t fooled. While Aron was worried naturally, she knew also that her over-protective eldest brother was as well, perhaps even more so. Several weeks ago, their sister had been diagnosed with the dreaded COVID-19, and given her medical history, she was seen as high risk.
“I promise, I’m fine.” She smiled sweetly, even though he could tell that was not entirely the truth. She had dark circles under her eyes and her pallor was not as bright and exuberant as it normally was. She may have even lost some weight, but he couldn’t be certain. She said, “Doctor Bresadóttir tested me a second time and I’m in the clear. I’m just staying here at the cabin for an extra week or two. Just to be on the safe side.”
The exact same thing that their parents had told Aron and him when they had checked in on the family, considering their parents and older sisters had all been exposed. They were the lucky ones, each had come away unscathed. It had just been poor Freyja…
“Well,” Kristjan shrugged, offering the slightest of warm smiles. “You can’t blame us for worrying.”
“Really?” She teased. “Even you?”
“Don’t get cute.” He said, shaking his head but she smiled regardless, saying with an impish smile of her own. “It’s what I do best.”
“Love you.” He said two of the hardest words in any language, especially when you had walled yourself off from the pains of human emotions so many years ago. “Love you too.” She smiled, waving farewell to her big brother before the screen went dark, the video chat ended. Kristjan reached up with his hand and closed the lid of the laptop, his blue eyes staring off at nothing in particular. Kyssa had curled up against his side and she lifted her head up, having awoken from a brief snooze, and was gracious enough to allow her master to scratch her in her favorite spot, right behind the ears.
The sound of the shower being shut off was heard, and a moment later Aron emerged wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his slim waistline. True, in Iceland nudity was common, even in public and the brothers had taken to being without a stitch on when they had been home at the Turnberry Towers, but this was the Saxon Hotel. And a recent incident where the hotel maid did not realize Aron was in the shower led to an embarrassing situation. Well, embarrassing for Aron. Fenris had laughed himself hoarse. He took the other towel that was slung over his left shoulder and started rubbing at his hair and cast a sidelong glance at his distracted brother.
“How is she?” He asked, and distracted, Kristjan started and turned his head to Aron silently, and Aron repeated his query.
“Freyja. How is she? Is she alright?”
Kristjan turned his head back away and simply nodded. “Just like mom and dad said. She’s a bit worse for wear but recovering. Doctor gave her a clean bill of health.”
Kristjan could hear the sigh of relief escaping from Aron, as his words rang true, “Good!” Aron opened the dresser and fetched a simple ensemble for the afternoon/evening, a pair of jeans and a sleeveless muscle shirt. He turned around to return to the restroom to change when he noticed the hard look on his brother’s face. Or more so, a look directed at nobody and nothing.
“What is it?” Aron asked. Kristjan turned his head back to him and said, “We need to talk.”
Reykjavík, Iceland -
The home of Fenris
And just like that -- **snap!** -- we are back in the past! Not even an hour after we had last left off. We’ve oft visited the home of Fenris in times past, so no real need to bore you with details of its setting. If you’d like to know more about the house he and Aron grew up in, go read some past promos. Or look at the pictures he’s posted on social media. In the meantime…
“So who did he beat up THIS time?” The eldest sibling Viktoria said with a condescending smirk on her face as she leaned heavily on the edge of the dining room table, practically corning Kristjan in his chair as her right-hand and sister Elin stood on his other side.
Elin smiled in her own wicked way, saying, “Maybe he didn’t. Maybe he got beat up? I mean, look at him!” The two sisters laughed at their fuming brother's expense, but that was brought to a halt when he suddenly leapt to his feet, confronting them. They had a love for tormenting their siblings, but bitches though they were (if you ask Fenris), even they knew there were times when a line wasn’t to be crossed and they just crossed it! But before he could say anything that would reduce either or both sisters to tears, their parents entered the dining area.
“Out!” Benedikt ordered the sisters, then pointed at Kristjan himself. “You were not told to get out of your chair. Sit. Now!”
“Why do we have to leave??” Elin practically wailed in protest, as Viktoria joined in, “This affects us, too!”
“That’s what you say every time you want to listen in on something that’s none of your business!” Kristjan said right back to her. Both sisters look to their parents, as if silently hoping they’ll rescind the order to leave and (maybe) reprimand their brother for what he just said, but neither happens.
“Go!” Eva ordered, and both sisters gave their brother a hateful glance as they walked out of the kitchen. Only they were stopped briefly enough for their father to add, “And if you’re caught trying to listen in, you’ll get it as bad as your brother!”
The pair reluctantly left and headed for their bedroom upstairs, while Eva and Benedikt turned to their son, and it was his mother who started, “Do you want to explain what happened?”
“I got into a fight.” He muttered half-heartedly.
Eva said, “Yes dear, of that we are well aware. Your father and I were both called from work and lost half a day’s pay to bail you out of trouble. Again. My question is, why? Why did you beat up another boy??”
“He bumped into me!”
His parents waited for more, a possible further explanation or … something, but nothing more was forthcoming. They shared a look, and Benedikt turned back to him and said, “That’s it? That’s all the boy did? Bump into you?”
“He didn’t apologize.”
“Kristjan…” Eva started to say but benedikt had enough of her coddling of the children, and he took charge, interrupting his wife. “This is going to stop. As of right now! Son, I know you may not understand this, but every time you get into a fight, every time you cause trouble at school, it reflects badly on your mother and me! Do you have any idea what your school must think of us as parents??”
“Is that what this is all about?” Kristjan asked, looking between the two. “How I’m making you look?” But their stare between them in his direction caused whatever further lip he was delivering to end and fast. Bad ass though he might be, he was still respectful of both his Mother and his Father.
“Of course not Kristjan.” Eva reached over and placed a comforting hand on her son's shoulder. She wanted nothing more than to calm him, to help him. But because of his anger, she was at a loss at how to do so. She said, “But honey, you have to understand the spot that your actions have put your father and I in. It is about our self-image. If you keep doing what you're doing, you're going to end up expelled! That is just not something that the headmistress is going to be able to put off any longer!”
“I thought you had friends at school.” His dad observed, and Kristjan mumbled, “I do.”
Eva said, “Well if you're not careful, you won't be going to this school much longer and you won't be seeing your friends as often, if at all!”
“Is that what you want?” Benedikt asked, and sighing in defeat, they watched as their son shook his head in the negative. The father then asked, “So what then are we going to do about it?”
Kristjan just kept his eyes downcast onto his hands on the edge of the table. Taking charge, Benedikt said, “For starters, if you think that you're going to just lay around the house while you're suspended from school, then you have another thing coming. Until you go back to school on Monday, you are doing all of the cooking, and all of the cleaning. And, you are taking care of your little brother and sister for the entire weekend.”
Kristjan immediately protested, “Wait! So if Viktoria and Elin make a mess…”
But Benedikt understood this protest and stood by his son this time, “Then they'll be responsible for it. But everything else? You're taking care of. Now go to your room!”
Kristjan slid the chair out and slowly stood up, feeling half-heartedly as if he had somehow gotten off easy. That is until…
“But before you go, take these.” Kristjan turned around just as Benedikt slid the papers given to Eva and himself from the Headmistress.
Kristjan picked them up with a wary glance at them, asking “What’s this?”
“Something that Headmistress Agneta thought might be beneficial to you. Benedikt answered. “Some after school activities. Your mother and I want you to pick out a few tonight, then discuss them with us this weekend. You’ve had far too much free time on your hands to allow whatever is pissing you off to fester!
“”Just…!” His mother had to get a word in. “No boxing…?”
Kristjan just rolled his eyes as he turned and headed upstairs, and Benedikt turned a bemused smile to his wife and said, “I don’t see why he shouldn’t. God knows he’s had enough practice at school lately!”
Las Vegas, Nevada -
Saxon Hotel
Now dressed, Aron sat on the edge of his bed. His head was down and his forearms wrested on his knees. He had his fingers interlocked, as he took in everything that his brother had just discussed with him. Kristjan sat expectantly on his own bed, now upright with one leg pulled up and his own arms draped on his bare leg.
Aron looked up and asked, “I had a feeling this was coming. Not saying you’re wrong. But…” He shook his head. ”Are you sure? I mean, your wrestling career…”
“Has pretty much hit a standstill.” He looked nowhere in particular as he shook his head, chewing at his bottom lip. “I’m not getting anywhere I want to be. Ben has had my number. I just don’t think there’s anything left for me right now.”
He looked to his brother and said, “I think it’s time to go back to Iceland.”
That same dusky gym last seen on this past edition of Climax Control, eight days ago. Same dim lights, same haze in the air. Same octagon ring enclosed by the cage -- and the same “White Wolf” Fenris standing inside.
“Before we get to the heart of this matter, I have something else I want to address first. I have somebody that I want to thank, and that somebody is Ben Jordan. Now you might be asking me why I'm thanking him, when he has absolutely nothing to do with the fight that I am scheduled to have in just over a week with Jake Raab. It doesn't have anything to do really with SCW, but more so to do with a loss that the wrestling world suffered just over a week ago. A young woman, a Joshi wrestler by the name of Hana Kimura took her own life because she was the victim of cyberbullying. Now anyone who knows me well enough, knows that I have a particular disdain for bullies. Especially cyberbullying! If you don't have the balls to speak up about or against someone to their face, and you feel the need to do it from behind the safety of a computer screen? That doesn't make do anything more than a FUCKING COWARD!”
“Now, that being said, this is where my opponent Jake comes into this. For months it seemed that Jake, in a sense, has been the victim of cyberbullying on social media. It seemed on a weekly basis, mostly one of two people would be posting tweets about Jake. Insulting him, talking down on him, his family name, his accomplishments inside of the Ring. Now granted, those tweets came from mutual peers in SCW where both I have met him inside of the Ring, but the simple fact that Jake did not have a social media account with Twitter so that he could not only see these tweets firsthand, but also answer to them or defend himself, that, is by the very definition of the term, cyberbullying!”
“Enter Ben Jordan. It wasn't too long ago where it appeared that even ‘Saint Ben’ had his breaking point and he went off on both of these men, and defended Jake Raab himself. Ben may not have named any names, but he went off and everyone who is anyone in SCW, SCU or GRIME knew exactly who he was talking about. I can't remember ever seeing Ben Jordan lay into anyone verbally or on social media the way he did on May 4th. And to do so, depending on a man that only a handful of our peers, myself included, respect? To that I have to say thank you. Your defense of Jake only makes the spite against him even sweeter.”
“Now this brings me to the man himself, Jake Raab. Given how I started this whole little chat between us, I bet you're feeling pretty good about yourself, aren't you? You stepped up to the plate against one of your personal tormentors and you put him down and defeated him. And I don't know if it's because of what then Jordan said, or your personal accomplishment in that match, but I'm pretty happy to see that not a single word has been set against you since. But if you think that win gives you any kind of advantage or momentum going into our fight inside of the cage, and let me remind you that you're not the only one who has secured a win right before Into the Void IX.”
“Do you remember? I can't imagine it would be easy to forget, considering it was Ben Jordan in myself against Mark Cross oh, and who else? Go that's right! It was you Jake! You were the partner from Mark Cross, and what again was the end result of that match? I believe that it was Ben and myself, not Mark and yourself, who walked away from that match as the winners. Granted, I may not have been the one who secured the actual win, but a victory is a victory nonetheless. And I haven't suffered a loss since I was beaten by, you guessed it, Ben Jordan!”
“I’m not even entirely certain that any win would really count as momentum going into this fight with you, because every weekend or every loss that either one of us has enjoyed or suffered, has been a wrestling match. But this isn't a wrestling match that either one of us are in, now is it? This is a fight, a Mixed Martial Arts fight inside the MMA cage! You and I Jake? We are both going back to the Grassroots of our Sports training. Before either one of us ever even thought about a joint into the sport of professional wrestling! The question then on everyone's Minds, would be simply who has the edge. Who has the advantage in training and experience inside of the cage?”
Fenris paused, and tooked upright in silent thought and contemplation while tapping a forefinger to his chin.
“Not an easy question to answer, is it? Although I'm certain that both of us are going to go into this fight thinking that not only are we the best, but we've had the best at our disposal as far as training and history inside of MMA a sport. I spent the majority of my MMA career in Elite XL, and I ruled two separate weight classes; Two-time Champion Super Middleweight and one time Light Heavyweight. Nine wins. Four losses. And only one of those losses was due to a reverse decision which cost me the Light Heavyweight Championship. But then again, if you did your homework Jake, I’d dare say that you were already aware of the fact.”
“Now where training is concerned, that is where I am confident to say I had the absolute best possible! I’m not just talking about my amateur days before I went pro. Back then I had a slew of men around me at all hours, training me. Making endless lists of demands of me in both body and soul, to make damn certain that I would be ready for whatever fight my coach had lined up for me. But they also pushed me that extra mile because they knew -- they KNEW that I had everything it took to turn pro, and when I did, I would need to take it one step further as far as trainers went.”
“That’s where Maksym Petrov came into play. I’m sure you know the name, Jake. There was nobody better in MMA than Maksym. The man was and is, a fucking legend! Thirty three fights in his professional career. Twenty eight wins, and five losses. And every single one of his victories was by submission! I came into MMA trained in boxing, Judo, Muay Thai and Jeet Kune Do. But that wasn’t enough. Not in Maksym’s mind if what he wanted to mold was a World Champion. Where Gabriel and Odette taught me the professional style of wrestling, Maksym taught me everything I know of the catch-as-catch submission style. Four of my wins during my career in Elite XL came by submission, and I wish more of my wins in SCW came the same way.”
Fenris shrugged playfully.
“But what can you do? But I think, no, I hope -- that I have made my point abundantly clear. I respect you Jake, maybe more so than any other Superstar in the men's division does. Where people would take shots at you, you were the only one who stepped up when Ben Jordan and myself both laid out open challenges. Maybe that's why you were the target of cyberbullying. Because the men who targeted you didn't or couldn't do the same as you did. Nobody else answered our challenge. Just. You!”
“And then you managed to take my Challenge and sweeten the pot. I had simply assumed that you and I would meet as we've done before, in a wrestling match where, well not to sound cocky, but where I’ve dominated. But no! You went a step further and asked for our meeting to not be a professional wrestling match, but a Mixed Martial Arts fight! And to that I have to say…”
Fenris clapped his hands enthusiastically!
“Bravo, Jake! Because of you, Sin City Wrestling is going to have another first! Now of course one or two people may have pointed out that there have been MMA fights on the SCW banner, but those have been promoted by SCU, not SCW! Our fight, you and me Jake? We are the first-ever MMA fight sanctioned and promoted by SCW! And the best part about this entire situation between us? It's the simple fact that in all of history, there can be only one first in anything. We are the first MMA fight ever for SCW…”
Fenris took a step up to the mesh cage and peered through it, and all humor and good nature has left his eyes.
“And I will be the first winner.”
