Salem, Massachusetts
Familiar sight, yes? The hundred-plus year old Victorian manor stood tall, centered away from the hustle of not only the city life, but also the neighboring communities that surrounded them. Land that was seen by many, perhaps jealousy so, as prime real estate. Back before he had even met his wife Rinoa, Kedron had purchased this house and the land surrounding it. Several acres of open land, several acres of woodland. Trees surrounded this house on all sides, with only a single path that led from it to the road, and back again. Few paths also marked the forest around, but paths marked by many a casual trek through the trees. There had been scant attempts by city and real estate developers who had wanted the land for their own, but each attempt had been short-lived.
It belonged to the Williams, now and forever. It was quiet … private … it was perfect. Kedron, unlike his wife, was an intensely private individual. While she made a few attempts at socializing here and there, his own were virtually non-existent. He simply had little use for people, save for his wife and the elderly woman who served as their housekeeper, a Missus Adale Hansel. So you can understand who Rinoa was so caught unaware when the morning sun rose, and her husband walked into the spacious kitchen and asked her...
“Tell me something.” Kedron said as he took the steaming cup of tea from Missus Hansel, and walked around the kitchen table to have a seat opposite his wife. “How would you feel if we were to have dinner guests this week?”
Rinoa had leaned over to offer one of her feline ‘babies’ a much desired scratch behind the ear, when her husband’s words rang true to her ears and she was given pause. She turned her head and tilted it just a hint in silent questioning.
“Dinner guests?” She asked. “Kedron, are you feeling alright? Has your heart being returned had some unforeseen complications after all this time?”
“Droll, my dear.” Kedron sipped at the black tea, no flavoring added. No cream nor sugar -- he did not even wait for it to cool slightly. He drank the scalding drink without so much as flinching. “No, but given the spot I’ve found myself in, I just have a feeling that if there are any hopes of success…”
“Benjamin deserves his explanation?” Rinoa, as she often would, finished his thoughts for him. He simply nodded. She finally said, “I have no objections, but are you certain this is a step you want to take? In all these years, we’ve never had guests over for such a social occasion. Save for perhaps a rare visit from my family. You value privacy far too much for such a thing, and I? Well, you know I have always respected that in you.”
“Not something I wish to make a habit out of…” He seemed to be in his own little world, conflicted as to whether this was something he wanted to truly do or not. What she said was true enough. His privacy was one of the most important things to him. Opening up their doors to guests almost seemed -- somehow, alien to him. The Trick or Treaters in late October had been surprising enough. But this…? “Well, there is a first time for anything I suppose.”
You could just as easily meet him before the show?” Rinoa suggested.
Kedron contemplated this thought only briefly, before he shook his head and said, “No. After everything that has passed between us, such a simple thing won’t do.”
“Well, if you’re certain.” Rinoa smiled one of her rare but heartwarming smiles. She turned her head and watched as the housekeeper had picked up a silver tray, and on it, three crystal dishes. Each with a serving of beef and liver cat food, her babies’ personal favorite. Yes, Rinoa’s cats were quite spoiled, eating off of crystal. She watched with a smile as all three felines; Isis, Cleopatra and Achilles swarmed around the old woman’s feet, mewing for their breakfast. One by one, each dish was set on the kitchen floor and its assigned recipient proceeded to ‘dig in.’
“Missus Hansel?” Rinoa spoke up, and the elderly woman stood upright. “Would that be okay? Dinner guests? I know it's not one of your regular duties…”
“No ma’am, it’s quite alright.” Mrs. Hansel held a hand up, forestalling Rinoa’s worry. “Two mouths to feed or four. I’m just happy to see you have invited guests for a change.”
“It will make for quite the unusual bit of diversity, won’t it?” Rinoa quipped, taking a drink from her own tea, winking at Kedron from over the brim.
Had a look at the promo of one Ben Jordan by now, have you? Well splendid! It helps to make these things run so much smoother. The night in question had arrived, and Kedron and Rinoa had decided to indulge themselves in one of their favorite pastimes while they awaited their guests' arrival; dancing. Rinoa absolutely adored an elegant dance, and here’s a secret about Kedron that you might be unfamiliar with; he could handle himself quite well on a ballroom floor.
With one hand behind his own waistline, and his free hand on his wife’s own waist, the Williams’ spun about the floor of the ballroom in the center of their home to Alan Silvestri’s “Amas Veritas.” When you had lived as long as Kedron, sometimes the simplest of pleasures would serve to become the most meaningful. And for Kedron? Dancing with his wife was a pleasure that bordered on sheer bliss.
“Excuse me, ma’am? Sir?” They continued to dance as the housekeeper’s voice rose up just enough to be heard over the music. “Benjamin and Evie Jordan are here.”
“Splendid!” Kedron mused almost merrily as the husband and wife danced around in a wide circle, and from the corner of their eyes, they spotted Missus Hansel escorting Ben and Evie with their husky canine Bear into the open framel of the room. And without breaking a single stride, Rinoa released Kedron and Ben suddenly found himself pulled onto the dance floor by the wife of the man who had once been his greatest enemy. But give Ben Jordan credit where it was due; he recovered quickly from the surprise of Rinoa’s action, and you know something?
Ben Jordan is quite the dancer in his own right. And whilst they danced, Kedron slowly walked to stand on the opposite side of the door while Evie watched as well. Evie then turned her head to spot Kedron watching her and she shook her head.
“Don’t even think about it!”
“Never fear, Missus Jordan.” Kedron smiled. “I would sooner swallow a rag off a bath house floor.”
Evie murmured, “Don’t you forget it!”
The evening moved on. Dinner had been quite the success, even were Ben and Evie even slightly apprehensive about eating at the Williams’ table. Bear, however, had no such reservations. When that rack of prime rib had been placed down in front of Bear, it was like watching Taz go through a tree. Slowly, the Jordans came to ease their own tension and enjoy themselves, or at the very least, attempt to.
“I can only hope you come to appreciate this, Benjamin. Invited guest or no.” Kedron spoke gently as the two men had left their wives behind so that they could have a moment alone to themselves. Kedron walked side by side with Ben, his hands clasped behind his waist as he served as a personal escort. He continued, “Having guests is not something to which I have been accustomed to.”
“Lately?”
“Period.” Kedron stressed. “Not counting family, you are the very first guests who have set foot inside of these walls.”
“Why?” Ben found himself asking, even though he could almost answer his own question.
“This may come as a surprise to you Benjamin,” Kedron answered. “But I am not the most sociable of sorts.”
“The hell you say!” Ben then paused, placing a hand on his chest and placed a hand on Kedron’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. Was that rude of me?”
To which Kedron just stared at Ben before he shook his head and moved on, “I’m coming to regret this already.” And giving Ben the satisfaction of a smile as they arrived at a large set of double doors, ornately carved in cherry wood that stretched clear to the ceiling. “It was a surprise last year when children showed up on our doorstep for Tricks or Treats. And no…!” Kedron held a hand up, cutting Ben off before he could say anything. “I did not lure them in with gingerbread to be fattened up in my oven.”
“Damn!” Ben smiled. “I could have had a lot of fun with that one! But still, must get lonely.”
“How do you mean?” Kedron asked as he grasped the handle of one of the doors, ready to open but waiting for Ben’s answer.
“I never had you pegged to being an animal lover I suppose.” Ben stated, adding, “No offense of course. But the only person I ever see you with is your wife, and she had made it fairly clear that you and her cats don’t get along.”
“We don’t .. or didn't rather. Not until after you and she had pulled your little fast one. But I do adore all innocent creatures that walk this world.” Kedron then pushed the door open and stepped aside, allowing Ben to go in first with one final say, “It’s human beings that I tend to hate.”
Ben then found himself standing at the forefront of a spacious library, Kedron’s personal study. One of the largest private libraries that Ben had personally ever set foot inside. One desk. A plush, leather sofa. And bookcases. Several bookcases that reached the ceiling and lined every wall. And on each shelf, there were volumes packed tightly with little free space.
“Nice.” Ben nodded as Kedron followed him in, and walked his guest over toward the center of the room. “Your personal man cave?”
“No, my ‘man cave’ is in the basement.” Kedron then flashed a wicked grin, and added, “But something tells me that you’d be hesitant to follow me down there.”
“Smart lad.” Ben quipped, but he had a keen eye and for the first time, he noticed that the bookshelves were not the only thing lining the walls of this room, but there were the paintings. Eleven total in number. Each painting was that of a woman subject. Each one expertly rendered to the point it looked as if she were about to step off of the canvas and join them for the evening. The brush strokes? Virtually non existent. Each one preserved in an ornately carved, wooden frame. Ben was no expert on art work, but even his keen eye could tell these paintings were not only master crafts, but old. Very old.
Kedron silently watched as Ben approached one painting in particular, that of an elderly matriarch of a woman. But her age did nothing to defy the fact she had strength in her eyes. Strength and -- power? Ben then turned his head and noticed that two other paintings each bore the likeness of an older woman. The others seemed to age down from eldrly to adult, and perhaps young adult.
Only then did Ben turn to Kedron and say as more of a statement than a question, “Your coven.”
Kedron closed his eyes and simply nodded in silence. He stepped up beside Ben and with a hand, directed his attention to one painting after another, speaking the name of each woman until they arrived at the very painting that had drawn Ben in.
“Prudence Mathews.” Kedron said calmly, but Ben could hear in his voice what seemed an impossibility. Affection. “The coven’s high priestess. She raised me as her own grandchild after my mother… after her death. I could not have loved someone more than I did her. I never met such a skillful witch.” He nodded. “She taught me everything that I know.”
Ben noticed a mistiness to the eyes of his former enemy, and turned away to give the man what privacy he could. Ben then leaned in close and narrowed his eyes at the painting in examination. He asked, “Are these originals?”
“They are…” Kedron stepped right up beside Ben, his eyes fastened on the figure in the painting. “... the very same paintings each of these women sat for over three hundred years ago.”
Ben blinked. He looked from the painting to Kedron, then back again. “Three hundred year old paintings…” He shook his head in disbelief. But the sheer dedication Kedron showed to find, locate and retrieve each and every personal portrait of these women who played such a vital role in his life. Ben was nothing short of impressed. “How long did it take you to find them?”
“A long time.” Kedron answered simply. “But it was well worth it.”
“How do you mean?”
Kedron turned his head to Ben, drawing the attention of the Cockney King to him. Kedron said, “You asked me if this room was my ‘man cave.’” He shook his head, then said finally…
“It’s my penance.”
“I have to admit that I don't even know where to start in this funny little situation that I find myself in. If you would have told me three years ago that I would be teamed together with, of all people, Ben Jordan, for a match -- any match -- I would have called you a fool and thought you insane. And yet, here I am. In that very spot and it would seem I have only myself to blame. My own actions, and it’s not something that I object to entirely. I made my choice to get involved in a situation, and I stand by it.”
“What I can not seem to understand or comprehend is how Vinnie and Bill Barnhart seem to be unable to grasp that none of this would have happened had they not decided to take the loss that evening out on Ben Jordan himself. How they seem all too eager and willing to place the brunt of the blame on me, myself. I may not be involved in social media as I find it to be a waste of time, but I am not blind to the world around me. My wife told me all about the posts from Vinnie and Bulldog, and how everything was seemingly my doing, my fault. Well not to go all schoolyard on you gentlemen, but boo hoo!”
“I have been called a great many things over the years, most of which had been entirely justified. But the one thing that nobody had ever been able to say about me is that I am anything other than what I am. In other words, what you see of me is exactly what you get. I make no pretense to be anything other than what I am, and if my actions cause repercussions? I’m man enough to own up to the fact! But not you Vinnie, nor you Bulldog. From the very moment that evening came to a close, all I’ve heard from you is what I did. How I interfered in your business. How I burned Vinnie or blinded the Bulldog. Do you know what I haven’t heard? A single iota of blame from you, about you. Well then, allow me to declare class to be in session, because it’s time for me to educate you both on one very simple but important fact, and I dare say i hope this gets through your collective thick skulls!”
“Everything that happened that evening, and everything that happened since? Is entirely
your fault!”
“I know, but just consider it tough love. You had to hear it. I know that right about now, Vinnie is pretty selective about which reality it is that he chooses to accept, but it’s for the best. You see, had Vinnie been able to accept his friend and tag team partner had suffered a loss, then none of this would have had to happen. And once Vinnie got involved and started his attack on Ben, did Bulldog attempt to stop him? Did he try to get Vinnie to see reason and end his assault?”
Kedron closed his eyes and shook his head in the negative.
“Quite the contrary, actually. The two men joined together to engage in a vicious beat down on Ben, and yet somehow, in some way, it still was not their fault. Therein lies where I opted to involve myself. I have my reasons for why I did what I did. Benjamin himself is aware, but the bottom line is my actions were entirely just that; my own. When you’ve lived for as long as I have, one tends to do things differently every so often. Just to keep people guessing or to keep things interesting. You have to. And let’s be honest here; I could have handled this situation in any one of several ways. I simply chose the most effective methods. After all, you don’t need to be an expert in this profession to realize that I am about a sfar beyond heavyweight as they get. Vinnie and Bulldog? Both have an advantage over me by far in terms of size and strength so why
wouldn’t I resort to such tactics as I did? They call it a fight for a reason, and when you’re involved in one, you do what you have to, to whoever you have to do it to, in order to walk away not just as a winner, but also a survivor. After all, is that not the entire point?”
“To survive?”
“So I burned the flesh of Vinnie to the point he resembled a charcoal briquette! So the mist I spit in Bulldog’s eyes would make him better served as a guide dog than a professional wrestler! Gentlemen, you had the Saint down on the mat. You had your chance with him. Now, you deal with me. The polar opposite of Ben Jordan in every single way imaginable. You were not dealing with Ben Jordan in that one single moment. Where Ben is the Saint, I am the Sinner. I am the devil in disguise. That
can’t be good for either of you, because you simply won’t know which side of the flipped coin you’ll have to be prepared for. With Ben in the ring, you’ll have to do one thing. Against me, another entirely!”
“And yes, while the two of you are friends and have been together as a team in times past, Ben and I can not say the same. However … we don’t have to. Benjamin and I will never be best friends or bosom chums like he has become with so many varied individuals. And that’s fine. We don’t have to be. Because what he and I have gone through, what we have put each other through time and again, puts us on an altogether different level than the bonds of mere fellowship. Rivals. Enemies. Now…? Allies, merely out to survive against two men who simply can not face the harsh realities of the world. Two men who live in the center of the universe, believing the world revolves around them and them alone.”
“I fear neither of you. Nothing you say, nothing you believe you can do against me, gives me cause for concern. So Vinnie is a former Internet and World Heavyweight Champion. Brava! Congratulations! So Bulldog is a bulldozer of a man, a ring veteran and someone who loves to pulverize his opponents until they more so resemble ground beef! Do you not think I have been through worse? That I have been up against worse?”
“People looked at me, and overlooked what they thought I might be able to accomplish. They saw me lose more than I would win, clearly underestimating me. What happened? Twice now I have been the Roulette Champion, two levels of success more than you’ve accomplished, Bulldog. Or … Beatrice. I swear I’m never altogether certain which Barnhart I am supposed to be addressing considering the man allows his wife to do his talking for him. Fair, I suppose. It’s not as if she’s been booked so she has to get her camera time in one way or the other. Just so long as … she knows her place, and remains on the outside. Just so she does not follow the examples set by her husband or her friend, Vinnie.”
“Several months ago, Ben Jordan stated that out of all that he has known, I showed him the most personal growth. Well, let’s just test that theory this Sunday, shall we? And when all is said and done, and you two gentlemen are left lying broken, battered and bloody?”
“You’ll only have yourselves to blame.”[/font]
