Samhain
Despite what some Hollywood fools might lead you to believe, this oldest of holidays was most definitely not pronounced ‘sam-hine.’ It was spoken as ‘SOW-in.’ Samhain is a Gaelic festival marking the end of the harvest season and the beginning of winter or the "darker half" of the year.
Home sweet home. Finally.
It seems like it's been forever since they had set foot back inside the old world Victorian Manor that had been theirs since the very beginning of their marriage. But once the restrictions involving the Saxon Hotel had been lifted by the powers-that-be behind Sin City Wrestling. Kedron Williams wasted no time inspiriting his wife Rinoa back to their home in Salem, Massachusetts. It's where they had been since their time upon the Sun Princess Cruise, since Summer XXXTreme VIII, where Kedron’s reign as the Roulette Champion came to an untimely and somewhat embarrassing end.
Kedron had held to his belief that championships were meaningless, at least to him personally. But to lose one thanks to gravity and falling into a pool? To crawl out of the water and realize that another man was holding what had just mere seconds ago been your property? Yes, even the Son of Salem was having a difficult time in grasping and accepting that.
Most men (and women) would have wasted little to no time in immediately making their campaign for the fanciful “return match,” but not so much Kedron. No, he watched and he waited. He wondered if the comparisons with others would be ironically drawn forth at his ‘disappearance,’ but that was more of a morbid curiosity State of Mind. There was only one with whom he cared in what they thought of him. From the early days of August, he would simply bide his time.
The dreams, they still came. Haunting his sleep. True, they did not suffer his torments every night as it seems they had when he had given that deepest part of himself up as part of a bargain with evil, but they still came. Only now with his heart and soul intact, it would seem what he gave up in regularity made up for with intensity. These disturbances in his sleep or what caused him to rise later than his wife. It was why it was well past the noon hour when he finally stirred awake and opened his eyes to a new autumn day.
And he had heard it before his eyes had ever opened. He was always sensitive to the nuances of Mother Nature, and he had picked up on the rainfall before the first drops had ever even struck the roof of his shared home. While most people drew their enjoyment from clear, blue skies and bright, warm sunshine, not so much Kedron. He was what one would refer to as Pluviophile, or a person who drew their enjoyment from the rain. Blue skies? Dark clouds and gray overcast, that was how he enjoyed it. And this rainfall? It was a strong one for the Autumn months, not quite a thunderstorm which he would have preferred, but still quite pleasing in its own soothing way.
There was nothing quite like the sound of the rain pounding at the glass windows, or how it appeared as a cascading waterfall from off above the roof. It was why he walked freely to the double glass doors of his and Rinoa’s bedroom that led to an upstairs balcony, overlooking their spacious property. He threw the doors open and stepped out into the cool wind and the freshest scented air, the very wind blowing the rain back and into his face, soaking his flesh almost immediately. His hands gripped the banister and he tilted his head back, eyes closed, and simply allowed himself to bask in the pleasure of the rain washing over him. His hair, his flesh and his clothes all soaked within seconds. But did he care? Not a bit. It was the closest to euphoria that he could experience the physical pleasures of when his wife was not involved. The water ran down his cheeks and pooled at the strong cleft in his chin, and he finally opened his eyes and glanced down at everything that belonged to Rinoa and himself, and he froze.
Rinoa adored nature almost as much as she did animals, and thus trees and flowers and shrubbery dominated their landscape -- and every bit of it had been decorated for the season. Their season. No, not these ridiculous and fanciful decorations like laminated cutouts of goblins and cartoonish skeletons, or orange and black lights with that fake, silken spider webbing. Rather, colorful gourds dominated. Decorative Indian corn of assorted, Pleasant colors was woken against and around their tallest tree . Pumpkins that she would attempt to cowl him into helping her carve into jack-o'-lanterns lined the path of their drive, waiting to be brought to ‘unlife’ and moved to their porch to welcome trick-or-treaters that never came to their home. And there in the center of their front yard, in a spacious clearing, was the large scarecrow that Rinoa always erected to greet those very visitors who never came.
It was their time, their season. Yet it was always the hardest on his wife, and why? Because of him.
With that sobering thought, he finally pushed himself away and turned back to re-enter their home, carefully peeling his wet attire from his body before he even set foot inside so as not to draw the ire of his wife. Powerful warlock though he was, he knew better than to trail rain water into her bedroom. And after a very long and luxurious hot shower, Kedron finally arrived downstairs to find the interior of their house had also been transformed with Autumn decor, including candles and wreaths along with other simple displays of nature.
And no sooner did his feet set foot on the bottom step than did he spot the three sleeping felines, Rinoa’s ‘babies,’ as they slept huddled together atop the wicker love seat that he had bought for her but quickly became yet another piece of the felines’ ever-expanding personal property. He crept silently along the floor in search of his wife, not wanting to wake the cats and draw their attention to him. Ever since the efforts of Rinoa and Ben Jordan had made him ‘whole’ once more, the animosity the felines had for him vanished and now they simply would not leave him alone. And he would have been successful in avoiding them -- had he not forgotten about that one plank of wood in the flooring that his bare foot set upon and caused that awful creaking noise, startling the three forms awake.
Their eyes snapped open, and the three heads lifted to spot him across the foyer, and they moved as one; hopping down from their ‘bed’ and hurrying after him.
Kedron Williams: “Son of a…”
He was only able to half mutter before the three hairless bodies weaved around his feet and shins, their bodies rubbing against him to stake their claim to him as their own. All he wanted right now was to grab a cup of tea and perhaps a bite to eat out on the downstairs porch to better enjoy this dreary weather, but it would seem he was to have company. Whether he preferred it or not. And once he was finally able to tear himself away from the company of the three pesky felines, he headed through the hall other Victorian house and into the kitchen where he finally found the love of his life standing at the counter unloading paper bags filled with…?
Kedron Williams: “Candy? Have a sweet tooth, do we?”
Rinoa looked up from her small chore and smiled, despite herself. It was a soft, gentle smile as was Kedron’s usual gift. She was often referred to as ‘icey,’ betraying almost little to no emotion except for where he or her three ‘babies’ were concerned.
Rinoa Williams: “Don’t be silly.”
Was all she said, but the evidence spoke of the contrary. Three large, paper bags from the nearest grocer, and everything from popcorn balls to giant Snickers bars and every tooth-aching delight in between. He waved a hand toward the treats.
Kedron Williams: “Then … why?”
Rinoa Williams: “To be prepared for the Trick or Treaters, obviously.”
His wife stated matter-of-factly.
Rinoa Williams: “It would be a shame for the little ones to come knocking and we not have anything to offer up.”
Kedron Williams: “Yes, I would never forgive myself were that to occur.”
Kedron finally arrived at the kitchen stove for that much-desired steaming cup of tea. The trace of sarcasm behind his words was not lost on Rinoa, simply overlooked. Behind her, as she continued filling the orange, plastic pumpkins with the tooth decaying treats, Kedron shook his head as he poured from the kettle.
Kedron Williams: “Someone is a glutton for punishment.”
And straight away, the moment the words left his lips, he felt the momentary bristle from his wife. Even if for a brief second, he felt a momentary sting of sadness that his words had just caused her. And he regretted it immensely. Every year it was the same. Every year, Rinoa did then what she was doing now. She decorated their property. She would purchase an outlandish amount of candy with the hopes and expectations of the neighborhood children coming to their door. Rinoa simply wanted to experience the pleasure of opening their door with a basket of candy and hand, and be greeted by a huddled group of children in colorful costumes crying out “Trick or Treat.” It was a simple enough desire, but every year she was turned away disappointed. Every year, the chimes of the door were not wrong. No small fists wrapped on the wood of their door. And there were no begging for treats. She would sit by the door in her wicker chair, hands in her lap and that strong if not sad smile on her face. And the candy would be left untouched until disposed of.
Every year.
And he had only himself to blame. Their, or ‘his’, reputation seemed to stifle the Salem families from allowing their children to set foot on their property. Still, that did nothing to stifle Rinoa’s hopes to one evening have children knock on their front door. Ordinarily that would suit him just fine, but he knew that it hurt his wife. He turned around, his back against the stove, to offer her his sincerest apologies but found that soft, gentle smile on her face as her eyes found his.
Rinoa Williams: “They’ll come. This year will be different.”
He gifted her with a genuine albeit stiff smile in return as he lifted the ceramic cup to his lips and drank of the black tea. She casually glanced again in his direction and perhaps for the first time, noticed the slightly dark tinge beneath his eyes and her brow knitted in concern before her eyes dawned in understanding.
Rinoa Williams: “The dreams … again?”
He simply nodded in silence, confirming her concerns.
Rinoa Williams: “They always seem to get stronger at this time of year.”
Kedron Williams: “But this year they’ve grown stronger … and much worse.”
And at this time it was her turn to take in a moment of guilt, knowing that it was her actions that returned her husband's heart and soul to him, that opened him up to such vulnerability. She wasn't altogether certain or confident that she knew the proper way to bring up the subject, or whether she should at all. It had been, after all, the darkest point of her husband's life. His greatest regret, known only to herself and one Ben Jordan.
Rinoa Williams: “Perhaps this year you should…?”
Kedron Williams: “What, Rinoa? Apologize?”
He openly scoffed at the very thought as he turned and set his half drank tea back on the counter and moved to exit the kitchen.
Kedron Williams: “Some things are beyond such a simple concept. Some actions are unforgivable.”
That being said, he walked past her but not before she laid a hand on his arm. He paused just long enough to look into her loving eyes. She smiled, and laid a hand against his cheek before she turned to resume her task, allowing him to step out.
Kedron Williams: “Well, well! What an indulgent week this has become! I have to admit that I did enjoy sitting back and watching as my wife engaged this pitiful ‘demon’ in a battle of wits, but as often is the case, it was like a hawk doing battle with a flea. I think Keira and Roxi are indulging this malignant spirit with all of this attention, because ‘it’ clearly has delusions of grandeur in believing herself to be the ultimate of evils.”
He smiled with a cold bitterness as he shook his head in mock disdain.
Kedron Williams: “But that was as a matinee as what is to become is the grand finale. O’Malley. Former SCU Underground Champion. Reigning SCW Roulette Champion. Or to put it in Layman’s Terms where your title reigns are concerned… one down, one to go. Even I have to admit that I felt express disappointment and perhaps even a touch of disillusionment when your reign as Underground Champion ended at the hands of that religious zealot, Father Gerald Sheppard.”
He shook his head and clucked his tongue.
Kedron Williams: “What you must have felt when you realized that the championship you coveted so strongly was now in the possession of a man who has strong armed and brainwashed his own flesh and blood to follow the teachings of a carpenter long dead for over two thousand years. Why, that would rank right up there by losing your championship by simply … losing one's grip and falling into a swimming pool on board of a luxury cruise liner. Hm?”
He tilted his head with an inquiring expression on his face.
Kedron Williams: “So yes, O’Malley. Finally you and I are kindred spirits with something in common, but unfortunately for you, that is where our camaraderie comes to an end. I really had no intention of seeking this return match for my former championship…”
He waved off the thought with an idle hand gesture.
Kedron Williams: “But the powers that be behind Sin City Wrestling wanted to give you a proper challenge, and here we are! I was quite content sitting back and biting my time, watching as the shepherd led his flock into the mouth of the wolf. Watching as you impressively defeated one Challenger after another, knowing that none of them for me. Knowing that you had not genuinely step inside with the ring to defend the championship that you hold so dear against the man who held it before you. Knowing that you did not pin my shoulders to the canvas nor force me to tap out, in order to walk away with that title.”
“And yes, I do fully acknowledge the fact that you received no assistance from that lovely wife of yours. When you won the title, you won it on your own. The only assistant you got? Was from Gravity itself. Hardly your fault given the circumstances, but still not the most impressive way to win a championship. But, you know … traditions. The fact is neither your fault nor my own. You gave me just credit as a fighting champion, and I can do no less. You’ve defended your title against whomever they laid out in front of you without complaint. It is almost a shame to see such a fighting spirit be extinguished, but sadly…?”
He made a face and nodded.
Kedron Williams: “It is going to be. But before we eventually do battle, I have to wonder which O’Malley I am going to end up facing. Dare I even ask? Because watching you, whether it be your interactions on social media or how you perform outside of the ring with all eyes upon you, it’s like some sordid soap opera that elderly matriarchs watch to pass away many a lonely afternoon. Yes, indeed.”
He nodded his head with a faux expression of sadness, or perhaps disillusionment.
Kedron Williams: “We all know of the trials and tribulations that you go through in your daily walk of life.”
He then rolled his eyes.
Kedron Williams: “Believe me, we
know! Which is why I can not help but wonder just which O’Malley we will have deign to grace us with his presence? Will it be the quintessential family man who has a seemingly unending stream of unresolved issues with the woman he had promised to honor, for better or for worse, until death do they part? Perhaps we will see the Father of the Year, who has defended himself and rightfully so, on thinking of the better welfare of his offspring as opposed to his own, selfish desires? And has not let us hear the end of it since?”
“Or will we, and this is perhaps the O’Malley I personally wish to see -- the champion? The fighter with the fire in both eye and soul? The man who thought nothing of how he won, just so long as he did? The man who will stop at absolutely nothing to keep what he sees as his? Ruthless. Aggressive. Greedy. Materialistic. That is who I want to face. That is who I look to defeat. After all, what good is besting a champion who is not out there at his very best? A weak champion losing creates a weakened lineage. That simply will not do. And despite all evidence to the contrary…”
He placed a hand over his heart and nodded his head.
Kedron Williams: “Respect. In certain cases, we have much in common. But for every similarity, there are far more evident differences. Where you are ruthless, I am unyielding. Where you are aggressive, I am malevolent. I am everything that you are, and everything that you have yet to become. Inhuman. Cold blooded. Without pity. These are my strengths. You, here…”
He tapped a forefinger to his temple, and then placed the very same hand over his heart.
Kedron Williams: “And here … these are your weaknesses. The very ones that will spell your downfall.”
“Human emotion is for the weak, O’Malley. You would do well to remember that.”[/font]
