[SCW Staff]

Post all roleplays for this match here.
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[Mac]

The Season of Settling Scores Part 2

“Every victorious warrior draws his strength from the highest source; his love.” ― Tapan Ghosh

{The Intro - “Love”}

The hallway is pretty plain, nondescript even. With the covid protocols being in full effect, the only thing I can really smell is the cleaning solution as I methodically make my way down the hallway. The echo of boots against a ceramic tile floor echo as I approach the interview set. I am dressed in blue jeans, boots, and a short-sleeve button-down shirt. The shades on my face are aviator style with my black skullcap in place. I get ready to address the audience, taking the shades off, I tuck them in my shirt pocket. I use a neutral, almost callus tone to address the people watching.

I’m not one to normally share personal information during a promo, but there are some things that need to be said. I’m going to share with you, some very personal information today. Things that I thought I would never talk about in front of cameras. See, Knox and I have a storied and troubling history. He and I have a lot of the same friends. We even have some commonalities among the women we’ve known. He would love nothing more than to make the world believe that this is about an angry husband. Like my wife did something wrong with him. It’s so much more than that. He has no clue, how ugly this match is going to be nor who, or should I say, what will be standing across the ring from him. I’m not trying to scare him or anyone else, because quite frankly, he’s not smart enough to be scared. I’ve seen this man destroy the lives of other people for no other reason than self-satisfaction. It’s well known by now that he’s been lusting after my wife for the past couple of years.

My face remains neutral and my tone is exactly the same, callus. Holding my hands in front of me clasped together, I acknowledge the obvious.

The one thing about him is that he will spin things to make himself look justified in his actions. What he doesn’t consider is how much damage he’s done to his own reputation. In spite of his obsession with my wife, all the while leading someone else on. Teasing a relationship that he was never going to actually pursue. A young woman that almost took her own life because of that obsession. All the while pretending like he’s a good person and I’m the problem. I’ll say this, Knox wants to be a good man, but he’s just not cut out for it. He’s been a terrible human for so long he doesn’t know any other way. He’s trying to do better for his kids and his wife. To the point where he’s actually training some of them for this industry. I’m not saying that makes him a good father but at least he tries. Matt Knox is also one hell of a fighter, as Mr. Cross just found out. He’s also more than capable of beating anyone on this roster. He holds a world title in another organization, along with two lesser titles.

I allow a small smile to tug at the corners of my mouth but never really commit to it. I then change my positioning, moving my hands behind me in a parade rest stance.

Don’t get it, twisted boys and girls, I’m not defending him specifically. Nor am I defending myself for choosing him. Too many times, I see someone new come into a company, and everyone uses that tired old shit about what have they done here? These are people who are supposed to be pillars of Sin City Wrestling, but instead, they look like any other generic thug on the internet. I’m talking about men whom I had tremendous respect for. I still do, although I’d be lying if I said it was the same. I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again. My team won the blast from the past tournament. It was my choice on who I faced at Into The Void. You didn’t have to like it but at least show some respect to the man that was chosen. He’s getting an opportunity that many here would die to get. When some of us were back in Carnage Wrestling, there was this unfounded belief that a stable there was running the show. I’m sure that some here might believe the same thing about the Saviors.

Having said that it amuses me. It’s all I can do not to laugh.

Matt probably thinks I’m trying to play the part of Jack Michaels here. While that’s not true, I’m sure that Knoxi will make a lot of noise about my group and compare them with a legendary stable from Carnage Wrestling called Paragon. A group that was already beginning to dissolve when he first arrived on the scene. That is not what this is though. The original intent behind the saviors was not to repeat someone else's history. I had no intention of taking over the company and rebuilding it in my own image. Quite the opposite really, you look at places like Pro Wrestling Valor, there are no mid-carders there really. The same can be said for Level Up. That is what I want to help Sin City achieve. How could I do that though?

I sigh in disgust as I continue. I approach the camera with my hands by my sides.

I wanted to exile every mid-card curtain jerking piece of crap.  I wanted to help this company evolve and become better. I also find it amusing that people conveniently forget that I was the one being attacked. I did what I always do, I turned the tables. I am the same guy now that I was the day I walked through those doors the first time. At least from an approach and philosophical standpoint. One thing that has changed drastically about me is my attitude, and I freely admit that. Knox thinks I’m not the same in any way, shape, or form as the man he knew a year ago. He also believes that I’ve not done the things I should have to protect my wife. He believes a lot of things, and you won’t be able to convince him otherwise. I am a man that practices what I preach though. I have no issues putting him over, knowing full well that I’m going to destroy him at into the void. Like I’ve always told everyone, while you’re out there trying to win a match, I’m out there winning a fight.

The would-be smile is now gone and my gaze hardens. I grab the camera on each side. And pull it towards me.

They say forgiveness is for the person who’s been wronged not the person who caused the pain. There are many who have wronged me and I’ve often wondered if I am capable of forgiving them. It’s not about being a better person or having a forgiving heart. There are some things that are so egregious that it takes more than words to make things right. Are you willing to pay the price in blood? That’s the real question and is especially true in this case. Even after that, I’m not one hundred percent certain that it will be enough. It’s long been known that Knox has a death wish, I’m all about granting wishes. The more important aspect of the reason I’m doing this is Love. You see, I love this company. I love my little sister and most importantly I love my wife. She’s one of probably two people that I’d take a bullet for. She’s the only person I’d willingly throw everything else I have away for.

I take the sunglasses out of my pocket and put them back away. I do a military-style about-face and walk away from the camera, with the staccato of my boot heels on the ceramic tile the only sound as it fades to black.

{Post CC330 - Greece - “No Excuses”}

The spectacle that was our tag team match against Ben Jordan and Fenris had ended. Chris and I made our way backstage. The hallways smelled like they always do, sweat, blood, and beer, the odor filled our collective senses. Several of the backstage interviewers tried to flag us down as we made our way back to the locker room. It was a smiling Miss Rocky Mountains that finally succeeded. “Gentlemen, can I get a quick word?”

We stopped, I looked over at Chris and he nodded. “Sure, you may fire when ready.” She smiled and asked her question, “Mac, how do you feel about going into the super card with no momentum?” I rolled my eyes and before I could speak, Chris did so. “Momentum? That was his first loss since winning the title in December if I recall correctly? In addition to that, it wasn’t his shoulders that were pinned.” I hold up my hand to forestall any more excuse-making on my behalf. “With all due respect Chris, this was a tag team event and the loss is as much on me as it is on you. It doesn’t matter who’s shoulders were pinned.” He nodded his head but I could tell there was more he wanted to say. “Part of what he said is true though, although we didn’t win here tonight. We still more than held our own. As for momentum? I’m the world champion, I have all the momentum that I need by holding this title.”

She took that as it was presented, then asked the next question. “What do you have to say about the rumors running around about your wife?” I almost barked a laugh, “You’re kidding me, right? Just because some jackass named Matt Knox likes to insinuate things, doesn’t make them true.” She started to say something and then stopped. “Oh for fucks sake, quit getting hung up on his brooding ass. He’s married and you should know better.” She seemed shocked at the statement, but then she smiled. “I see what you did there, touche.” I gave her a quick wink and a grin. “You’re welcome, what other questions do you have?” She looked over at Chris who was still seething about the loss. “Mr. Page, would you like to add anything?” He finally brought his eyes up from her breasts to her eyes. “Holy shit! You do have eyes.” She chuckled a little, “I know, it’s amazing, isn’t it? Any final thoughts before I let you gentlemen get back to your night?” “No, I think my friend here said it pretty well. I love the competition here, I might have to ask about coming  back some time.”

“I’m sure that Mr. Ward and Mr. Underwood would like that very much. Tonight’s crowd was amazing.” I smiled, “It’s what we do, love, we draw money. Tonight was a big deal, not just for us but to face two men with the legacy that they have. We all have a legacy, but the Sin City faithful love them. Most won’t understand it, but let me say this. I’ve always had great respect for them both. That may seem out of character for me, but respect is earned, not given. I think that’s likely the nicest thing I’ve said about anyone this year. I should probably stop that, I’ll ruin my reputation.” Chris laughed and slapped me on the back. “Nah, you’re still a dick.” I laughed as we made our way to the dressing room area.

Fade

{The offices of Kalei Hale - Chicago IL - “Advanced Training”}
[Off-Camera]
[Wednesday 9 AM]

I sat in the atrium of this office, some twenty years ago. The thing about Kalei Hale is there was always a feng shui between her and her surroundings. Wind-Water was very real to her, and a big part of her belief system. This office always smelled the same, no perfumes or sprays were allowed here. That always made me smile, coming into this office. I had been here many times over the years, this time was different though. She had asked me to come. She said she had a curiosity that needed to be answered. Some of the best times of my life were spent with this lady. She had been there for the births of all my children. As always, when I came to visit her, I wore my best suit and made sure that I was perfectly groomed beforehand. I’ve done some pretty terrible things in my life, but disrespecting her in her space was not ever going to be one of them.

A smallish woman of Asian descent stood up at the desk, “Mr. Bane, Mrs. Hale said she would like to see you now.” I smiled and stood, bowing slightly to the young woman, “I’m pretty sure those were not her words, thank you all the same.” She tried to stifle a giggle but failed. I smiled in return and made my way to the frosted glass doors. They hadn’t changed in all these years, the same design, texture, and atmosphere. The door had her name of course and below that, it read, “Personal Defense and Strategy Consulting.” I smiled as I touched the raised lettering. I then pulled the door open or tried to, I look down and it says “Push”. I heard the lyrical voice of the young woman, “She said you’d do that.” Then I laughed, “Yeah, twenty years of doing it. Seems natural to me.” I pushed the door open and took the first left and then paused at the door. I tapped lightly on the closed door. “Get your ass in here, Mac.” was the answer I got from behind the door. I politely slid the door to the side, bowing to her in respect, “Yes ma’am.” I stepped into her office and slid the door shut behind me. When I turned around, she rushed at me and hugged me tightly.

“I have missed you, Mac.” I hugged her back, “And I have missed you as well, mamma bear.” She smiled up at me and patted the side of my head, “Come in and sit down and let’s talk about what you’ve been up to.” I take a seat in front of her desk and she smacks me in the back of the head. “Owww,” I rubbed the back of my head. “That’s for not visiting an old woman nearly often enough.” I laughed and then she did it again, “That was for not following my teachings closely enough.” I nodded and rubbed the back of my head again. It was then that I spotted a picture of a young Fenris on her desk. She followed my gaze and smiled, “one of my best students ever, Mac, do you know him?” I smiled, “Yes ma’am, I fought him the last two weeks.” She seemed surprised at first but then nodded. “I see, you seem heavy in your heart, much like you were the first time you walked through those doors.”

Over 20 years ago

“What troubles you, Nephew.” Never one to beat the bush, Aunt Kalei was direct and to the point. I had just gotten my honorable discharge from the United States Navy, honorable is not the term I would have used for it. “There are a lot of things I was forced to do while serving my country.” She nodded sagely, “it troubles you?” I looked up at her, my eyes beginning to well with tears. “It gives me nightmares.” She immediately came to my side and hugged me tightly. I was just a simple kid from Southeast Texas. I never imagined the things I would have to do, something that troubles me to this day. “Mac, it will fade in time.” I nodded between sniffles and accepted her wisdom and hoped like hell she was right. “When you are ready, we’ll begin developing a plan for you. I’ve got great hopes that you will someday achieve mastery of Krav Maga.” I nodded my thanks and looked forward to the training, hoping so desperately that it would take my mind off of what I had done.

The sessions were long and grueling and sometimes bloody between us. In the end, it would help me far more than I could have ever imagined. For a time her teachings had brought me peace and confidence.

Return to present

“Have the nightmares lessened over the years?” I nodded, “Quite a bit, especially after I started training again.” She studied me for a moment, “How long ago did you start training again?” I thought about that for a moment, “I guess it’s been almost a decade now since I started again.” She smiled at me, “Good, why did you stop, to begin with?” “In the early days, promoters wanted men my size but they wanted monsters, not wrestlers. So under the guidance of an advisor, I started to put on muscle mass, because that’s what they wanted. It meant bigger paydays for our little family.” She nodded again, taking in what I was saying. “Since you started training, have you been training with someone?” I shook my head, “No ma’am, I would not do that out of respect and loyalty to you.” She smiled at my statement, “You’re such a good boy.” she patted me on the shoulder and finally took her seat. “You had provided me advanced training over the years, I would love to finally pursue mastery of the art.” She looked at me long and steady, “I was hoping you would say that,” she said in her mild-mannered way. “I’ve always wanted to, in today’s market, it’s far more acceptable and commonplace. I think it could help give me an edge on my opponents.”

“Then we should get started today,” she said to me with a beautiful smile. “You bring your gear?” I smiled in return, “I never go anywhere without it.” I knew that this mission would not be completed quickly, it would take time but it would be worth it. “How is K these days?” I smiled at the mention of Fenris, “He’s angry mostly.” She rolled her eyes, “Well, the more things change the more they remain the same.”

Fade

{The Bane Home - Las Vegas NV - “Foundation Repair”}
[Off-Camera]
[Saturday 7 AM]

My relationship with my wife had been a bit rocky, to put it mildly in recent times. The Raven had made matters worse with his innuendo on Twitter. Her involvement with Masque had a very distinct effect on her mentally. She had become distant since this woman had arrived. I knew there was a history there, what the history was I had no clue. I’m sure she would tell me when she was ready, or perhaps not, with Red you just never knew. This morning found us on the back porch. She wore one of my shirts with a pair of shorts. One leg tucked under her and black coffee steaming from the “Step Monster” coffee cup that my son Jimmy had gotten her as a gag gift. I was grabbed, as usual, jeans, a white and red “Painted Hurricane” t-shirt, and a Dallas Cowboys ball cap. A solid black “oblivion” coffee cup, the raised lettering embossed in silver with the steam from the cup rising majestically from the black coffee. We simply didn’t talk until each of us had enough coffee, this was our way. I took out my zippo and a single cigarette from the case. I tapped it thoughtfully on the zippo to pack the cigarette tighter. I could feel her watching me as I lit my cigarette. After another sip of coffee, I set the mug back down and leaned forward resting my elbows on my knees.

My thoughts were so jumbled this morning, so I almost missed the tone of her voice. When she spoke it was so cold, not cold, callus. “We didn't fuck, Mac.” I leaned back in my chair and looked over at her, no emotion portrayed what she might have been feeling. Our eyes locked, what I saw was malevolence in her eyes. It was like looking into the eyes of Masque Delune. “Well, my love, I never truly believed you would do that, to begin with.” She seemed satisfied with my answer and went back to staring off into space, largely ignoring her coffee. I knew that I would have to choose my next words carefully. She was at a tipping point and her psyche was likely fragile right now. “I love you Red,” I said with as much emotion in my voice to leave no doubts as to the truth of what I was saying. Looking over at me, Amber said, “I love you too.” The callousness of her voice remained like she was on autopilot. With her voice and the look in her eyes, Masque had left her mark on my wife, there was no doubt about that. Another sip of coffee and the last drag of my cigarette, “Do you want to go have a look at the progress on the garage later?”

She looked over at me and shrugged, “Maybe. I know we both have a lot to do between now and the super card.” Her tone and her look haven’t changed. That in and of itself was enough to set off my concern. “Wanna talk about it?” She looked at me, “About what? I already told you that nothing happened between Knox and me.” I shook my head, “What’s going on with you and Masque?” There was a slight shift in her expression, her eyes took a hard edge. “Nothing to discuss. I’ve got this,” she said with her voice taking on a hard edge that offered no compromise. The look in her eyes said that this topic was not open for debate. Like a good husband and a smart one would do, I let that go. We had a standing agreement not to argue about things like this. I had to learn to trust her again. Instead, I looked her dead in the eye, “I know you do and I’ll still be by your side no matter what.”

Fade.

{The Bane Family Plot - Port Arthur - Tx - “Mother’s Day”}
[Off-Camera]
[Saturday - 7 PM}

A light breeze kissed my skin, almost like a lover's embrace. I stood there in front of Melissa’s grave taking in the night air that was filled with the crispness of the pine trees. This was the final resting place of my mother, my wife, and many others in our family. The plots were always uniform in size and shape. The landscaping here was well cared for at all times. This would likely be my final visit here. Wearing a grey suit, with a purple tie, I looked down at the headstone. It used to be that I couldn’t stand here without shedding tears by the bucket. Even after Amber and I had gotten married, and bless her heart for being so understanding and so loving, the way she supported me. I was lost in my thoughts about the past when all three of my kids showed up. Jimmy was the oldest, looking good and seemed healthy. Aeric, the middle son, all seven-foot and three hundred and sixty pounds of man. A damn shame he wasn’t as smart as he was tall. Then there was the princess Julez, she was the spitting image of her mother. All beauty and Asian grace. That was one thing that many didn’t know, my wife Melissa was Japanese American. She was my high school sweetheart, an amazing woman. I hugged my kids individually and then as a group. I had always done this, it seemed right. Each got individual attention and the group hug was to let them know I loved them all equally.

“I’m glad for this day, and for all of you being able to make it out here. We’re all so busy, we don’t get to talk much anymore.” I said those words with as much love as I could put into my voice. My daughter Julez took hold of my hand and squeezed it. “We love you, Dad, we all know how hard this is on you.” I gave her a gentle squeeze back, “Not as much as it was in the past. I feel strong enough to do this now.” Jimmy was next as he laid a hand on my shoulder, “It’s never easy to say that final goodbye.” Then Aeric came and stood behind Julez, resting his big meaty hand on my left shoulder. “I know she would understand, Pops, it was her family's way.” I patted his big hand, a hand bigger than mine for reassurance. I hadn’t brought the whiskey with me this time, another tradition that would fade into the past. My free hand was holding the urn. “Did you guys get everything from the house that you wanted?” I asked them in a quiet voice. I looked down at the urn again. Amber had endured its existence on our mantle. The same mantel that held the various title belts that we had won throughout our careers.
I looked at Julez, “Yes dad, we did.” I looked over at Jimmy and he nodded solemnly. Then my big baby Aeric, whose eyes hadn’t quite welled with tears but close. He sniffled and nodded his head in affirmation. I nodded my head finally, “Thank you for doing that, I know it wasn’t easy.” After mine and Amber’s wedding anniversary I had made the decision to do this. Removing these reminders of the life I had before, would help me to stay focused on what is in front of me and not what was behind me. We each reached into the urn and grabbed a handful of ashes, carefully sprinkling them around the headstone. I then set the urn in front of the headstone. “Today we say our final goodbyes to the person that was the best of us. Melissa, I hope you have found peace, that you are pain-free, and that  you know, we miss you and love you very much.” A very quiet amen came from my children. “You would be so proud of these kids, Mel” One more group hug between the four of us and we left together. We would go to a small diner in Buna, called Doris’ Cafe. My cousin Michael owned it now. It would be good to catch up with him and his family.

Fade.


{In-Studio - Las Vegas NV - “Cards are on the table”}

I entered the studio, still battered and bruised from a hectic schedule. My hands had finally scabbed up from the latest round of workouts at the Hell’s Gate Facility. Wearing a sleeveless shirt and shorts that both had blood splatters on them, I probably looked like I had just come from a street fight. That wasn’t too far off the mark. My face was grim but my gait was confident as I walked up to and stood in front of the camera.

I don’t know who needs to hear this right now, but this is not some Twitter beef between Knox and me. This bloodbath is years in the making. You don’t have to believe me and you damn sure don’t have to like it, I could give less than zero fucks about your opinion on this topic. Whether you are management or a star, a respected icon, or some fucking curtain jerker. It all boils down to one thing.

Me.

I glared at the camera as if to dare someone to say anything different, knowing full well that they can’t at this moment.

That’s right, I made the decision to fight Knox for this title. I feel quite certain that the fucking crybaby known as Mark Cross will get his shot sooner rather than later. That’s fine boys, sign his ass up and I’ll send him back to Florida… again. I even tried to convince him to stay and claim his rightful rematch, but he chose to go, instead. That’s what happened last time, he cut bait and ran like a bitch.

I spit on the floor.

Gate Keeper my ass! Couldn’t even get a clean victory over Knox.

Still glaring at the camera, I shake my head in disgust.

As I’ve said before and I’ll say it again, Matt and I have a long history. I didn’t sign this match just because I wanted to fight you. If I’m fair and honest about it, it’s long overdue. By now, I owe you so many receipts, that one match may not be enough to collect enough of your blood to wipe the sleight clean. Of all the people in this industry to fuck with, you thought fucking with me was the right thing to do?

I chuckle softly and allow my facial expression to relax. I make the tsk tsk sound and then continue.

Or the smart thing? You are a special boy. No, see the reason he came riding in here like he did, as he thought that Amber was in some sort of danger from Supreme Machine. You have no idea how long I’ve been setting this up, Matt.

I set my jaw as I think about all the reasons why this was necessary.

I knew that SuMa wouldn’t abide by my rules, I was counting on it, actually. The man broke into your house and assaulted your wife, and the other girl you knocked up. Then you lied about that on Twitter saying it was nothing. You would later come back and say it was to manipulate me. Another lie, it didn’t matter though because Ken and I had already put the wheels in motion to eliminate SuMa from the picture as we originally planned. He was always going to be collateral damage. The whole reason, was just to get you to come in here, doing your knight in shining armor bit. In doing that you made yourself look more like an idiot in a tinfoil hat. The real kicker would come later after I beat SuMa to retain this title. You actually reached out to him to offer some kind of truce? Many were absolutely shocked by this. So much so, that you forgave him. You’re trying to rehabilitate a gorilla in a man suit? The Matt Knox I knew would have never reacted that way. You said I changed? Look in the mirror.

Again I shake my head in disgust.

Sadly it doesn’t end there with SuMa. You stuck your nose where it didn’t belong, didn’t you? I’m not sure if you’re that stupid or that arrogant. Your next mission was Masque Delune. You proved how dumb you are by fucking with Masque, I don’t know what you did to her “old friend” but she wants you to pay. What could you possibly do to incur her wrath, the way you have. Considering your track record, I can imagine. I mean, you took her out for ice cream and stuff like that. Makes me think you tried to get in her cast iron panties, maybe not though. Maybe you thought you could derail what she was trying to do with and to Amber? That really does show the level of arrogance in a fucking spotlight. You tried though, right?

I cocked my head to the right ever so slightly.

Did you think for a minute that I didn’t know what was going on in my home company? Do you know why I didn’t intervene on my wife’s behalf? It’s real simple, I trust my wife. I know she can handle her own business. But, Hey, good on you. You were able to commit fraud in order to lure my wife away from home. Where you could attempt to do what you did. A man with a wife and young son at home and you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself. Yeah, I know it didn’t go any farther than that. That’s not the point, the real issue is that you put her in that position, and people call me an asshole.

I straighten my head back to a neutral position.

There are many, many things that I could take shots at you over, besides this. Unlike you, I don’t take the “cheap heat” option as you did with Joe and Me on Twitter. You just keep adding to your tab, with no regret or remorse. What you did to Ken in the triple threat match, once again proves how little honor you have. You potentially robbed yourself of a title run as internet champion. For what? To do harm to a member of my family? That was lame, even for you. Did you really believe that the balance wouldn’t come due? Did you really believe that no one would care enough to collect what you owe?

Allowing a smile to tug at the corners of my mouth.

You could not be more wrong if you tried. This shit goes back to what happened in Carnage Wrestling. You like to put the “bad mouth” on my father-in-law, Amber’s adoptive father. Jack was certainly no angel, he was as arrogant as you and sometimes more. Know why? Record-breaking title reigns and a thirty-year career, that was uninterrupted by poor decision-making skills,  that few can match. When he came out of his brief retirement to cash in his rematch clause, you were one of the people that lost your fucking minds about that. You led the fucking charge and successfully through a combined force of five people finally succeeded in running him out of the company. You act like my friendship with him is such a huge problem. It might be for you, but somehow it’s not a problem for anyone else.

I give a slow golf clap to show my disdain for those actions.

Congratulations, no really, outstanding job. How do you think my wife felt about that. She was the world champion at that time. I know you don’t care about that, it didn’t fit the narrative you were trying to tell. Know what made matters worse? You left shortly after that. Sometime later we were in a smaller less competitive company together. Why was I there? Because my “old friend” needed help, that’s why. If we hadn’t been there, there’s no telling what kind of harm might have come of Hope. If Joe, Amber, and I weren’t there, you might not even be alive today. You repaid that kindness by triggering my wife in our home, that action got you thrown through a trophy case. Joe and I were the ones that pulled you out of harm's way. One of the few regrets I have is pulling you out from in front of the car that was driven by Cam Roth.

Gripping the sides of the podium with a hand on each side, I feel my intensity beginning to build as I continue down memory lane.

Then you showed up here. I tried to warn you to stay out of my business but you didn’t listen. Since day one, you’ve tried to bait me on social media. There are two things that have helped me to prevent that and thwart you at every turn. The discipline I learned from being a part of something much more important than myself. The United States Navy, where instructors taught me the only style of fighting that I know. I don’t use it often, but that’s because I don’t have to. Regardless, Those two things have always helped me keep the rage at bay, along with training from Whisper at Hell’s Gate.

My expression softens as I refocus.

Me and you though, we’re going to bypass the gates of Hell. There’s nothing more that I enjoy than torturing my enemies mentally and physically.  You might have guessed by now, that this will not be a wrestling match, Matthew. I’m going to hurt you in ways you’ve never even considered. I know you well enough to know that you’ll focus on things that try to paint you as a good man. You’ll never own up to your manipulation of Amber and Masque. By the time we’re done, you won’t have to. It simply won’t matter, to anyone.

I fold my hands in front of me and bow my head, then I look back up at the camera.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, this is not about an angry brother or husband. This is about doing the right thing for the right reasons. I’m going to make you pay for every fucking transgression that you’ve made against myself and my family. This is definitely not about you, Matt, it’s about me. I’m going to steal your thunder and set you back on solid ground. Or maybe I’ll just break you, and leave you in little pieces all across Greece. Some of you’re “friends” like to say that there is good in you if you dig deep enough. That is the kindest way I’ve ever heard someone say, he’s an asshole until you get to know him. I feel almost certain that if I hit you hard enough, it will turn it inside out and the good will be there for all to see.

My expression hardens to reveal the intensity that I feel.

What I’m trying to make you understand is that you’ve made a mistake when it came to me, Matt. I don’t know if there is anything left in you that’s worth redeeming, but I’m going to beat you until I feel better, get ready for a long night mother fucker because it’s the least that you deserve.

I strip my shirt off and I turn around revealing the tattoo, “The Arch Angel of Hell’s Gate” The Harbinger of Doom.

Fade.

[Matthew Knox]

‘How did I get here?’

Was the most dominant thought permeating the very existence of Matthew Knox as he continued cramming his belongings into an old Adidas bag after a losing effort helped along by the ineptitude of a Zebra, he found himself in a foul mood when taking account of the here and now, the only time that really accounts.

Losing record, No one believing he earned his place in the contendership line, which was without a doubt as warranted as it was foolish. But worse than any of it, maybe the worst of it? Mac had ruined everything he had planned by naming him the number one contender.

Much as the world wanted to believe it, he wasn’t a liar…

An almost petulant shove of the foot as he flopped down on the pine bench in the locker room, biting a camel non filter between pearly whites as he sparked up, taking a healthy drag and releasing the noxious fumes into the enclosed space. He focused on a chipped bit of paint in the locker, his mind drifting to the very beginning. His opening declaration.

He had come here on a mission of love.

Fucking fool that he was.

Amber Ryan. Amber Jane Fucking Ryan.

It always felt like she was at the eye of whatever shitstorm he found himself so willing to throw himself into. To many, it was obvious why. He’d refuse to acknowledge it, deny it til he was blue in the face, and downright ignore it to protect the both of them but at the end of the day? He had coveted another man’s wife for far too long.
Selfish bastard that he was, he wasn’t even sorry about it.

Why should he be? To either Amber or Mac especially. His own marriage, he of course apologized and the saintly fool he married found it in her heart to forgive him his transgression, however borderline, and move forward. It was a wash, and half the guilty parties were comfortable pretending it never even happened.

And then, like all guilty people, he got caught.

Plucking the bag up, he pushed the thought from his head and began realigning himself for the battles to come. One more show, the go home. He wasn’t booked. He didn’t plan to show. He had no interest in following a script of expectations, not this time. Not when so much was on the line. No, he’d let him get comfortable. Boil in all the justified anger and rage.

And then fucking drown him in it.

The hallways had long emptied, save for the sparse bits of crew loading the last of it up to head on. He made his way patiently through the halls, as stealthily as a man his size could. The whispers and finger points ignored mostly, save for the courteous smile he’d give occasionally.

Still, and unsurprisingly, the vast emptiness did little to keep him from eventually rounding back to the news of Camden Roth Sr. His friend and, technically, boss in PWV’s passing. The two had formed a bond if only in mutual dislike of his grandson, and Knox’s seeming son-in-law Cam Roth 3. It was amazing, how tightly spite can bind people.

In some ways, he liked to think that the time Camden spent with him and Jason Cashe may have been the last bit of mercy for the old timer. One last good time for the road.

‘When I think of all the good times i’ve spent wasted, having good times…’ the melody made the rounds within his skull, inevitably leading to him humming the tune as he trekked his way to the parking lot.
A fair few new stares
And not a damn thing to alter the reality.

He’d lost a friend.
And at into the void, he’d end another.


The camera comes to life to reveal the Acropolis of Athens in all it’s legendary, resplendent glory. Stone structures weathered and eroded by time and man alike stood in defiance as proof of a glorious yesteryear where man was much more invested on shaping the world around them through sweat, blood, and artistic vision than simply bitching about it using the wings of a loud, repugnant blue bird.

The drone camera pans over the numerous buildings on the hollowed hilltop, over ground where centuries before men, women, and the children they raised all lived lives that were long since forgotten and lost within the countless sands of eternity. As the shot transitions to another camera on the ground level, focused on the steps of the Parthenon.

In the silence of the dusk, where only the wind and the sea dared howl he stepped out from within the ancient and holy being, matching only one of those adjectives on most days and never the other in any positive way, was none other than the number one contender to the SCW World Heavyweight Championship Matthew Knox.

He stood silently for a beat dressed in a faded pair of jeans, scuffed Stacy Adams loafers, a deep blue button-up dress shirt and an old brown leather jacket. Usually slicked back and well-kempt hair splayed wildly toward his shoulders, his gaze distant as he gingerly lowers himself to take a seat on the steps of the old temple. Deep, steady breaths soon join the orchestral offerings of Sea and Air alike before the deep-chested, smoke stained monotone rolls from him.

“Where does one even begin, with all that we have endured Macentyre?” he spoke evenly, honestly “I feel like, lost in all these transgressions, perceived and obvious alike, that the history we do share has been lost in translation. So, as i’m sure you’ve offered your perspective on it i’d like to take a moment to offer mine to the viewing audience..”

A small shift, the raven’s pale hands coming together to clasp onto one another, hs brow furrowing in quiet contemplation of where next to direct this stream of consciousness.

“We weren’t properly introduced for a minute, when I came back. You held a belt of equal value to the Internet Championship here. You nearly ended Magdalena Lockheart’s career. You were buddies with Jack Michaels, and you put my ex father in law through a flaming table.” he furrowed his brow further, the lines on his forehead deepening.

“Unless i’m misremembering, the first time we had a conversation was you posturing to me about the words and actions of my then stablemates. Defending the Old guard as it were, standing up for what you saw as the essence of what made that company we were both in as great as it once was..”

“And here we are, nearly two years later,  and you have…well, you haven’t changed actually, is the crux of our issue…” a chuckle escapes him then, mostly filled with mirth but with an undeniable underlying venom “You’re still the same Mac Bane I ever saw, much as you’ll deny being that man. Or at least deny what I saw that man as..”

“Because, The Saviors? They’re nothing new. Especially with you, Mac. You who has never stood on his own two feet, facing the world with nothing more than what god gave him. You who has so long ago accepted your place in this world as second fiddle. Even when you hold the richest prize in a company.”

“I distinctly remember, back in Baltimore. The first night you ever did me any kind of favor, one of the ones you hold over my head at any given opportunity. Shit you think I forget because I don’t praise you for it endlessly. Do you remember, when that slimy cocksucker C$J had Belle Silva backed to the ropes? Alex Winter there to act like slimeball muscle?”

“Do you remember, how I was the only one to step out there and do a thing about it at first? Then your ‘sister’ Kat Jones attacked me with a lead pipe after faking a back up entrance- guess that whole being a snake thing is just common in your circle, huh Macentyre? - Then, a good five minutes and a brawl into it all….here you come on your white horse.”

“You, Jon Willis, Steve Matthews and some other schlub that I can’t be assed to remember. And why should I, or anyone outside of the marks who watch these PPVs on repeat be assed to remember it Mac? Your ‘Higher Standard’ was a non-starter.”

“Maybe it was ambition, maybe it was everyone chasing their tails over beef, grief, and gold but the beta test of the Saviors went nowhere. And left alone to your own devices, you vacated a title you defended successfully for your final act in the charm city. On the same PPV where I put a lot of my demons, the demons that prevented me from being the man I am before you, to bed? You fell flat on your face, in your shining moment to stand out in front, alone and solo…”

“....and against your former mentor's ex, and your current brother’s future ex.
Tell me, does that make Holidays awkward?”

“But, the point stands Mac. You have never stood alone for a damn thing. You have never been the man you claim to be. You’re a cog, not a machine. A soldier, not a general. I mean, yes you have the World Title and yes Ken had the Internet title but the ‘Saviors’? As they sit?”

“You’re a World Champion with a couple washed up, broken cronies who serve no real purpose other than insulating your fucking ego. I mean..” the stone faced expression cracks, grimacing in disgust “Your ‘brother’ assaulted your fucking wife to evade losing to me like the crybaby bitch he is, and your response? Your response to a coward doing coward shit with your wife?”

“Oh he was defending himself. They have history. That’s their business.”

“Christ, when you’re at a bar do you ask for two drinks? You know, one for each face?”

“I said that I came to SCW as a labor of love, and it was twisted and perverted. The message therein i mean, and of course it was done so by you. And I mean, who could deny your version if they looked hard enough and bought your bullshit?”

“Here comes this slick asshole, buddying up to your wife. Signing her up for a tag tournament in another company. Just barging in, and acting like her business is his business. Trying to prevent the onset of a rapture as it were, finding her when she ran away after almost dying in a fire you shamed her for publicly.”

“How the fuck dare I even have the urge to step in on my friends behalf, eh Macentrye?”

“You’ll deny this, of course you will. You’ll play up that Amber is a force to be reckoned with on her own, pay the usual lip service about not imposing on your wife and how she isn’t a wilting flower. No doubt, as soon as you finish vomiting that wherever you choose to, that everyone in your circle will agree and make some catty comments.”

“It won’t change how shit of a husband you are though, Mac. And I mean that with all the sincerity I can. Because no matter how you twist it, no matter how big a soap box you pull out of your redneck ass to preach at me from, and no matter how hard Chris Page sucks your cock to validate your bullshit, it changes NOTHING.”

“I came to SCW because I saw a friend drowning. I saw another friend blinded by ambition and surrounding himself with the lowest common denominator of allies. I came here to fight you, to fight some sense into you. I came here to help you pull her up for air…”

“And since being here, I’ve seen her slip from my grasp into the depths. I’ve found myself suddenly subjugated to a mad person in a porcelain mask. I’ve been screwed by shitty refs, i’ve had a record spat on because all the double digit IQs we work with only care for the bottom line and not the substance…but that suits you just fine, I suppose.”

“Given your depressing lack of substance, that is.”

“I should thank you, though. Because you have been the one thing that keeps me warm here in SCW…well, aside from that other thing. That has you so fucking angry at me.” he paused, letting the smirk spread across his lips as he averts his gaze “The elephant in the room, as it were…I’m sure you two have talked about it by now…”

“I’m sure that she’s denied it. I mean, why would she own it? It was a mistake and she can’t allow herself a flaw. And even if she could be flawed, why would she show that flaw to a person whos response to her almost dying in a fire was to shift the blame closer to her feet?”

“Much as she denies what happened….both times….Much as you’ll believe at least half her denials, you couldn’t quite deny away that ‘K Mart Cologne’.”

“Just like, as much as you will to everyone around you, you can’t deny that you drove her to it.”

“But…like I said….hardly worth bringing up. You’ll deny it.”

“You’ll deny that I’m anything, I imagine. Well, maybe not that far. You need to justify to the boys in the back that I was a challenge, to preserve the sanctity of your title. To preserve the knock-off Alex Jones of a legacy you’re forming here in SCW.”


The pitter-patter of raindrops falling against the windshield of a ‘66 Impala SS dominated most everything else in the world as he sat parked overlooking Carmel Beach and the steady rolling of the tide. Even in such a serene setting, he couldn’t help but feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand as his attention was pulled east and toward the war on the horizon and all the million moving parts that made it up.

He thought silently of the Saviors, and how he first heard of them through simple rumblings. His attention only piqued when Supreme Machine was added to the ranks, which only seemed to serve Mac Bane’s interests if he were to be believed. His stomach churned as the night replayed once more in his mind. Coming home to find Marika and Aimi shaken and mostly unharmed, save for the superficial wounds Tom had seen fit to deal them.

He knew then, as he caressed the face of his wife and ran his thumb over what Tom had hoped would scar far worse than it ended up doing, he was going to find a way to end all of them that were left standing. Thankfully, if only for time, Dom Strife had returned to garbage collection or whatever asinine job he had in Baltimore.

Although, he really could have used that easy win.

So he settled for a more traditional route. Plant the seeds with Kat in private, use her closeness to Mac and twist her view on the Saviors for what he allowed to linger among them. Among their ‘family’. Mac had made it clear once, that to get a fight with him Knox would need to get through all of the fingers of ‘his gauntlet’.

God, how impressive that must have sounded within his own head.

The fingers fell by hook or by crook. No doubt, anyone on the other side of things would challenge his view and assessment of the situation. Why wouldn’t they? This whole dance was about discrediting the other side, doing all you could to slip them up. Question themselves. Their motives, their intentions, their very souls and where they stood with God if you could.
How unfortunate, they didn’t bring enough to match him.

In his humble opinion, anyway…

Still though, Supreme Machine was cut off by the very hand he was supposedly a part of. He was cut off, and cut down because Matthew Knox gave the order to do so.

Ken Davison? Well, it took some doing. In their first tussle, rage won out over wanting a midcard title reign and he laid into a face that had deserved it for far too long. In the second installment, his greatest work. A competitive match, worthy of their reputation with the added caveat of a rising star into their cosmos.

And while it went as a loss on his record, it was the biggest win he’d had in SCW to date. Ken Davison was defeated and stripped of his gold by Jack Washington, because Matthew Knox allowed it to be so. Unfortunately, as with most threequels, their last meeting was nothing more than an exorcise in futility. One team with history and secrets as deep as the sea dominated Mac’s final sycophants.

And not unlike their encounter with Mac’s new daddy in Thunder Pro, the opposition chose to disqualify itself and save what little face they walked in with against the onslaught a pinfall would have brought from the egos of the two who made up Never//morE. He felt his blood boil for a second as the image of Ken attacking Amber replayed, and Mac did nothing.

Mac did nothing, and left her t-

A sharp inhale through the nostrils accompanied what seemed to be his entire face retracting from the thought as if it burned his very flesh. He couldn’t think of that. Couldn’t allow her that power, not anymore. Not when the truth had bitten him with the suddenness and lethality of a cobra in the bush.

She wasn’t much more than flawed, barely above a liar, and the catalyst for what could his own armageddon.

A person who knew how he was wounded because they were wounded much the same, however she was also a person who didn’t feel ashamed to dig at those wounds to reopen them, to prey on the empathy of familiarity.
Keep him close in case she wanted, but far enough at bay to not want him.
Fucking fool he was he fe-

Another sharp inhale, and a smack of the steering wheel as he focuses his stare on the red leather seat next to him.

Red.

He had to choose Red.

Whether the hooks she had sunk into him were done so with malice or through a subconscious desire for the comfort only shared trauma can bring? They were in there deep enough for him to do the one thing he would never do for anything, or anyone else alive or dead.

Compromise.
And worse, Compromise himself.

Much as he fought it, the flashes of their ships passing in the night on a dangerously close trajectory flashed against the back of his eyelids, the ghost of a cinnamon perfume wafting from nowhere and causing him to shake his head, willing the spectre far and away from him.
Willing the hooks release the viscera they were planted within.
Will in one hand, shit in the other…

Letting out a slow breath, he reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out his phone, a small grimace at the time. Half past seven. He was at least a few hours late getting home, by his count anyway. A small chuckle, hers was considerably less liberal. However, he noted no calls or texts from her. Where some would see this as a slight, he knew it was her understanding of where his head was.

She knew he was in his own world, preparing to put everything to rest and move on the best he could. Move on from concerning himself with a man who he had already given far too much concern for, and from lives he’d no longer seek to impact or let impact him.
One more bridge, turned to ash.
One less road home from Eden.

With one tap of his thumb, he started the video call. Of course, the first thing she’d see would be her husband fixing his hair in the reflection of the smartphone’s camera. Always the same and yet never in the best angle. She did what she always would and rolled her eyes at the sight before offering a sigh to inform him of her answer.

“You know you should really take to such adjustments prior to the call, dear. With the doctors constantly phoning in, I have to have mine nearby… How are you?”

“Hopelessly conflicted and full of great rage and shame, mostly…” he smiled at the sight of her, the natural rose of her cheeks acting as a magnet to the corners of his mouth and exposing the teeth far too white for chain smoking behind them, “Saw the storm brewing over the sea, couldn’t help but think of you..”

“How romantic of you, love.” There was a brief pause as she moved from where she was, taking the time to make the usual nap rounds. Seeing everything was alright and making sure he got the same view, Marika made her way to the kitchen, settling into preparing some tea. “So were you looking to bare more of your fractured soul or exchange general pleasantries while avoiding the issues?”

“Well, originally I had just hoped you were naked and go from there..” he quipped back at her dry nature with his usual adolescent wit, complete with an overly suggestive wag of his eyebrows, “But, with those options all that lay bare before me… I suppose i’ll need to be greedy and indulge in both… Mostly because i’m starting to realize something, and it may come as a shock to you.”

He gave it the weighted pause it deserved.

“I may have an awful habit of inserting myself in places I do not belong.” complete with double entendre. He nailed it.
Oh shit, Triple.

There was a soft laugh at that moment, though admittedly it appeared she was biting back a little more. Now she delivered a mocking gasp, placing her hand above her chest. “Nooo! I had no earthly idea you were even remotely capable of such a thing, Matthew. I am shocked. Flabbergasted even. This is… a day that ends in -Y!” She finally shook her head, letting a little more laughter escape.

“Unfortunately you missed me being naked by about twenty minutes although the view would have been blocked. So you will simply have to settle for clothed, exhausted, irritated and feeling that extra kick blessed me.”

“Well, I assure you you’re gorgeous either way, my darling..” a little saccharine he’d never dare show anyone else, and might have accosted a witness of for their silence “But, if i’m being honest the whole situation in SCW…it gnaws.” a small snort as he trailed off, gaze averting back to the ocean.

“Only I can fight my way to a losing record trying to save someone who never wanted to be saved and end up fighting for a world title I never desired or deserved….and wind up under the thumb of some masked psychopath..” another pause “I did tell you about that, right?” Her gaze left the camera for a moment as she let out a sigh.

“No, but I’m far too observant and figured out the situation on my own as I normally do when you choose to leave out the details.” She still kept her gaze away, eyes drifted towards the kettle. “While I do not judge the intentions and the mess it’s led to, it is quite tiring and I’m glad you’re slowly beginning to see how unnecessary it was. Maybe one day I will do the same when it comes to my affairs.. So are you looking for encouragement, dissuasion, or what I always offer yet you have the hardest time absorbing?”

“More than anything,  I desired your face and your voice. Even when they’re disappointed in the man they see and address…” a small smile, a slow nod “My eyes open far too slowly, but if I may pass the buck I spent a good majority of my life with blinders on…Only had you for the past year to remove them, dear…” a pause “Pass the buck, and kiss ass…You’ve married a talented man…”

“But, do give me what you always offer. I will try to absorb it, once more. And with feeling, I assure you.” A small smile slowly made its way to her face as she turned to face him again. “A man of many talents and he always works with the worst ones.” A softer laugh now. “Very well. I will give you what I always do, always have and always will.”

“I accept you, Matthew…”

He let out a soft chuckle, staring at her in a silent wonder for a moment, before speaking over the unusually warm smile that dared take hold of his weathered face.

“That’s all well and good, Mari….but it’ll never hold up in any court, they know you’re a loon.” he shattered the weighted statement as he did all the others, levity deflecting from a nerve that was still far too raw for him to even openly acknowledge the existence of. One more small sigh, before he speaks again.

“I’ll be home before long, my love. Kiss the boy, tend to the robot, and feed the newest…” he dared snap his fingers “On the double now, i’m headed to you..” the car put in reverse, his mocking judgemental gaze…

The loud SCRAPE of guardrail on high gloss paint.
A deadpan expression.

“.....Not a word.”

Her eyes widened for a second, a loud burst of laughter, that one only he gets to hear leaving her system before her eyes narrowed and she displayed a cheeky smile.

“あなたはとてもかわいいです...私は一言も言わないでしょう... I’ll see you soon..”

As the call ended, he knew as all husbands do that she would in fact say the word. All of them, if she could. He let out a huff, and rolled his head back into the headrest.

“Well, at least that was warm…”
“You need to get to the final step, Macentyre. And fast.”

The smile on his face warms a few temperatures, a chuckle rolling out of him as humor seems to have returned to the macabre features of the morbid corvid. He runs a hand through his hair, slowly sliding out of the jacket and discarding it before standing up from the steps.

“You know which one I mean, too. Acceptance. The truth in everything but name, complete honesty with yourself and the rest of the world. You need to accept the sin and the inevitability, and you need to accept that even if you leave with the gold it will always feel like lead because of me.”

He jabbed his thumb toward himself to accentuate the point, although the warm smile remained. A friend speaking to his friend.
About how much he’d like to kill him.

“And your only recourse. The only chance you have? Is to absolutely decimate me. Ruin me and save yourself from me, Mac. Save Chris from me, Seb, Tact, all of them. It’s come to fall upon you. Hell, the people voted you most likely to end me…
…Thankfully, they should also be used to being disappointed in you by now, as well.”

A chuckle as the smile falters back to a plainer sort of expression, Matthew paces a small circle as he steals glances at the fixed camera. He slides a smoke out from his shirt pocket, sparking up and chuckling once more through the exhale of the noxious fumes. His face cracks into something akin to absolute bemusement.

“Is this where your Higher Standard led you, Mac? To you becoming a parody of every group and every man you ever professed to stand against? You have taken a couple shots at my proclivity for fatherhood, but I have to wonder…how does Jimmy feel watching his father become everything he ever spoke out against?”

Suddenly his pacing turned into something more similar to a charge, he approached the camera, stopping a mere foot away and seething as he spoke, each syllable dragged out and dripping with a gravely sort of venom, face twisted in absolute disgust and disdain.

“Once more, so short sighted in your quest for personal glory and your pound of flesh that you’ve managed to negatively affect someone close to you….perhaps I should reach out, eh? Maybe we’ll bond over our shitty dads, wrestling, and love of the weird…maybe he’ll call me ‘Pop’ or whatever your hick offspring call you. After all…
….your wife has already called me Daddy.”

The mirth returned with a devious smile as he backed away, taking one more puff as a hearty, bellyful laugh rolled out of him and into the fresh greek air he was doing his best to pollute with repugnance and tobacco smoke.
After a moment, he lets out a slow breath and collects himself. The mirth slowly fades to a more neutral look, with a hint of remorse that might be there if you looked right.

“See Mac, I was remorseful for it days after it happened. Hell, it lessens me. Lessens Amber. Lessens you the most, as the cuckold in the position. Never should have happened, never should have been a thought. And it never would have been, Macentyre…until you all but begged for it to be so.”

He shook his head slowly, a sigh escaping him as he shrugs, waving his arm as if to display the puzzle for someone else to try and solve, or perhaps presenting a truth and daring it to be refuted?
Honestly, some would say he wasn’t even sure.

“Maybe I'm looking at this, and you, the wrong way Mac? Maybe you’ve already made it to Step 7. Maybe you’ve accepted your responsibility in all this…maybe that’s why you picked me then, isn’t it? Because you know you deserve to lose to me for what you’ve done. Braying jackass me, who coveted your wife so. What more could make you feel low enough to match your failures as a man than to know I ended your reign and snuffed out the Saviors?”

Thin, pale lips curl upward into a sneering smirk as his voice drops down a half octave, his eyes boring into the lens, and into Mac’s.

“No…No, that’s far too deep an ask for you. You’ll frame it as what you are able to perceive it as. The lowest common denominator. I’m the fox, I got in the hen house and got a real good sniff of the hens. So you’ll punish me, and put the title up because you want to make an example out of me, show the world that your Championship means more, as you defeated me and my three…some trivial, carney bullshit that grew like a fungus in your pea brain.”

He raised a finger, the mirth returning for a split moment as he snickered, amused by the result of the next firing synapses.

“But when the time comes, Mac…and it’s coming. When the time comes, that you feel the attrition set in. When you realize that your might can’t quite make right? When you realize that My Standard is simply higher than yours ever was? You’ll realize your fatal error, and you’ll feel the weight of the truth crushing down upon your chest. The weight of my inevitability. The weight that my name carries.”

A pause, he gets closer to the camera now, leaning in and whispering this secret, hidden great realization for the world to hear.

“The weight of your total, and complete failure and the weight of a truth i’ve preached and you’ve laid awake at night plotting an escape from.”

He leans back, staring into the camera with a blank expression for a moment, until his brow furrows on thought. His tone shifts to something far off, dreaming perhaps.

“Mac Bane isn’t the one. Mac Bane is a package deal. Mac Bane is a good hand. Mac Bane is a solid B plus….a workhorse. All the steak, none of the sizzle, and just not ‘it’”

Reality returns in all of its inconvenient glory as he snapped back with one more venomous, obnoxious smile that would make Lucifer deem him an untrustworthy scoundrel.

“Me? I am the one. I do what you do, but I have no one to catch me when I fall and I have no one to carry my cross. I stand on my own two feet, facing down monster and man alike. You don’t make a fucking move without approval and validation of your inner circle.”

He backs to the steps once more, taking his seat back and briefly fidgeting with the discarded leather jacket, before flicking the butt of a cleared cigarette away. He mumbles something to himself about being a ‘long winded old fuck’ before carrying on, lighting up another smoke and pointing a wagging finger at the camera as he exhales once more.

“You spent a lot of time on social media bringing up the past, saving my ass. I addressed it briefly with the ‘higher standard’ story but Mac….the question no one has asked out loud? Why did you only appear when the beating had commenced? Why did you form the Saviors when you couldn’t beat Alix Jones? Because every move is about drawing attention to you.”

He jabs his finger in an accusatory fashion then, eyes narrowing as he honed in on the truth. Or at least, his version of it.

“You spent a career flaunting your fucking moral high ground, you continue to flaunt it in passing when this whole time you’ve been down in the muck with the rest of us. Playing the same dirty, visceral games you act so high and above.”

He runs a tired hand through his hair, eyes casting downward, the click of his tongue ringing out soon after before he takes a moment to formulate his thoughts in the chorus of win, sea and a damning, silent history already repeated ten fold by fools long forgotten.
And then, once more…
“In Athens, we both look Into the Void once more Mac. A place we both spent plenty of time staring into, trying to find peace and resolution with the man within. Because, we used to be so alike right? Where did we divert, O Macentyre my friend?”

“Suppose it’s simple really….I never broke my stare.
You flinched.”

“This is Penance, Macentyre. Holy and Just. Penance for your hubris, penance for the wounds you let open and the marriage you left to rot in pursuit of said hubris. I am going to come in with one intention, and one intention only. I’m coming to fight you. I’m coming to punish you. I’m coming to hurt you.”

He takes one more drag, one more moment to compose his thoughts before leaning forward as he exhales, the even and deadpan monotone returning.

“You may be the one to put me down for three seconds, Mac. But I promise you, you will feel everything between the bells for the rest of your life.
And if a Strap is worth 3 seconds….that must be worth a lifetime.”

“I am Raze, I am Ruin, I am the Raven. I’m here for you now, Mac. All the time you’ve wasted, all the time you’ve spent acting like you were above this fight and all the time you’ve kept thinking about just what you’d do when you got your hands on me, right here staring you in the face.
You, standing alone ready to prove a point…”

A pause, a look of sudden shock and realization, he leaps from the steps.

“Wait, I’ve seen this one….”

Only for the feed to cut to black.

He sat up in his marital bed, hunched over with his elbows resting upon his knees. He hardly slept as it was, anymore since AJ’s birth? It felt like simply being prepared for the inevitable. It made Marika’s life easier, so who was he to question all the quiet time with his thoughts and demons?

Not like he really deserved to share it with the woman beside him, anyway. She may have been a saintly, forgiving sort of woman but he’d never forgive himself. The day after his son was born, he tried to nuke his marriage just like he did the last one. He didn’t know what divine intervention stopped it, but he knew it had to be divine as he wouldn’t trust himself to find the moral E-brake.

This was all penance for the sin, really. Page, Black, having the stain of retiring his best friend forever on his heart and mind? And now, this violent night in Athens that lay awaiting him. Part of him wanted to let Mac beat him to a bloody pulp like he deserved.
But no. Life was never quite so simple. Not when Mac had earned his own form of penance in the form of violence.

And so, with all the gold and the personal lives affected and shaken in their wake? Into the Void’s main event would prove to be nothing more than a standard affair.

Two sinners punishing one enough for sinning.

A chuckle, the spark of a zippo.

And so the world turned.

[Matthew Knox]

Corvid Combat Films presents.
In Association with Bongwater Productions…

HIGH NOON IN SIN CITY
A Matthew Knox production

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Hot as it was, much as you swore it did? The sun never really shone here.

Not in Sin City.

A stroll through the boomtown would do little to shock the system in its almost uniform layout. General Store, Inn, Stables and streets crowded with drunks, harlots and ne'er do wells. However to get a real and genuine pulse of the town there was only one place to go. Same place as with any other.

The Saloon, a wooden building with a big painted sign declaring it as such. Sure, it had some name linked to the man who owned it, a man by the name of Underwood but no one paid it any mind like they paid him no mind. Saloons were never to celebrate the owner, only line his pockets and the pockets of the girls he had working for him.

This particular saloon was out of place in Sin City, made to be far classier than its clientele complete with a stage and piano for the more talented workers to share a little bit of their soul with the damned who had come to drown their sorrows in Rye, Sin, Cards and Sex. The decor on the walls had long since been torn down in a brawl no one could remember the cause of, or the outcome to.

Fights were common here though. The roar of a six shooter did little to phase the patrons and residents alike on any given day or night. They had law, but the Sheriff was young and a bit strange. Tended to parade the town in a mask and cape, talking about needing to get to other universes.
Lord knows the gangs didn’t take him seriously.

The Wolf’s Lair gang had free reign of the town most days, although in recent times a new group of outlaws calling themselves Saviors had stepped up to contest their reign. Nine times out of ten, the Wolf’s tended to lick ‘em in a fight, however the leader of those Saviors? He had taken the biggest score there was off the Alpha in the wolf's lair, making the entire conflict a push at the end of the day.

Mac Bane was one of few names to bring a hush over the room around here and most anywhere from Reno to Baltimore. The giant man with a bad attitude and all the tools to allow him to keep it. Tall as a tree, strong as an ox and deadly fast on the draw. Plenty had tagged him, some even left him bloody but it never seemed to be enough because before long that outlaw king would come back and make you regret not putting your round between his eyes.

No one dared oppose the Saviors otherwise. Sure, some would shoot off about how they’d be the one to take Mac’s gold that he stole from Jones but every man who had tried so far had failed to do so. The man himself was mostly unflappable in the face of challengers, approaching each duel and fight for his life with the calm demeanor of a man ordering a drink.

Until recently.

Within the walls of that tavern, seated at a card table long abandoned and passed out leaned over it, atop his winnings from hours before was the catalyst of a man that had surely doomed the boomtown to be burnt to the ground by doing who no other could. Earning the spite and hatred of the Outlaw Savior King.

The man himself was polarizing as he was pugnacious. Most nights he could be found stumbling out of Opium dens firing off his mouth to pick a fight he had no business picking, or he’d be lambasted by another blonde haired girl with eyes like his claiming he was her pappy who’d run off after dooming their mothers to the hellish life of raising a child out of wedlock.
However, there was the other side of things.

Rumors and stories of victories unimaginable. Some even claimed he had taken the Bogeyman’s boots after a duel. Old Cool Hand Joe, the Bogeyman of the Middle Territories. The men had a long history together, some say it was him who dragged the man from an opium den and put a gun back in his hand. They’d taken scores together as often as they drew down on one another. Some rumors said Cool Hand Joe had been sent to answer for his life of sin, others were convinced he and the drooling fool had split a score and he left for Mexico.

No one could ever get a straight answer. Especially not from him.

“Hey…Get up, you fool.” a voice rasped in the ear, earning a swat from the man’s hand that was easily deflected by the smaller man with the dusty blonde hair. He let out a sigh, adjusting his belt and the star on his chest “I ain’t playin’ this game witchu, Knox. Can’t have you sleepin at the tables, it’s bad for business.”

A low, annoyed groan rolled out from the face still buried in the forgiven bed of felt and poker chips, a sigh followed as a hand wearing a gaudy pinky ring with well manicured fingers reached up to brush through what was once very well groomed jet black hair with the first inkling of gray streaks through it.

“What fucking business does a Saloon possibly have at….” the groggy protest trailed off for am oment “What time is it, Deputy?”

“Half past ten.”

“Wonderful..” the face finally raised, through the eyes that looked like a stormswept ocean caught in two perfect orbs that did not move to meet the deputy’s own blazing cobalt ones “Barkeep, Glass of Bonded and fry me some bacon..”

“We’re not a diner Knox, I keep telling you this.”

“And I keep saying, you take enough of my money to earn me a meal.”

“Knox, come on. Get up. We need to talk, it’s serious..”

Another grunt and the man rose from the table, gathering up the loose bills he’d protected with his drunken body and sliding them into the picket within the ruffled black waistcoat he wore over the deep red shirt. He inhaled through his nose, plucking the black flat-brimmed hat from the table and placing it atop his head.

“Not serious enough to interrupt breakfast, Deputy.” he drawled as he took a seat at the bar, the glass of bonded was set before him just as he flipped a coin toward the barkeep as the deputy took a seat next to the gloomy looking man. He took his own hat off, setting it on the bar as he ran a hand through his hair, face grimacing.

“Rider I sent out got back in this morning. Says the Saviors are camped four miles outta town. Wires comin’ in from next town over that they’re waitin to link up with someone else.” Knox let out a snort at this before returning to his drink. “This is serious, Matt. Sheriff ain’t fit to fight them off, good a gun as I am I can’t help him none neither.”

“They aren’t even goin’ to be comin this way, Robert..” the man slurred with a false bravado that did all it could to mask the way his stomach churned, gripped in a sudden anxiety as he began to run everything through his head.

“You bullshittin’ me, or bullshittin’ yourself?” Deputy Robert McAlroy asked now, leaning closer to the older man and all but forcing him to make eye contact “This whole place is gonna burn, just like Baltimore did, all because of your mouth, your ego and your di–”

“Nothin’ like that happened.”

“Well, Mac sure seems to think otherwise, hard enough to link up with Page and his posse, way they’re speculating…” Robert raised a finger, the barkeep quick to bring him his own glass of bonded whiskey that he gratefully accepted. He didn’t want to be dragged into this, but was. Blue eyes looked around, brow furrowing. “Seen my sister in law?”

“Not since she kissed me goodnight and left me at the table..” Knox replied distantly, finishing his drink and waving in another as he stared at his reflection in a contemplative silence. The sound of hooves outside drew his attention if only briefly when he realized the horse was alone.

Something Mac never was.

“Page, huh?” he added simply, taking a drink of his fresh glass as Robert did his own, setting it down and staring into the amber liquid contemplatively, his thumb circling the rim.

“Yeah…and he’s got his whole posse they say. The big one, that one who got one over on you, them pretty boys…”

“Popular fella, ain’t he?”

“Reckon so..” a small, shared chuckle as Robert’s eyes lifted to look at his reflection in the mirror behind the bar as well. The two had a long history, they’d stood together to fight the forces of what they would perceive as evil that day many times before. Hell, Knox had taught the deputy to shoot when he was a younger man. Back when Robert was an impressionable kid, and Matthew Knox was still something to behold.

“Doc Whisper seems t’think Naoko is with child…” he added sullenly, staring at the whisky. The statement drew Matthew’s eyes to the younger man, brows raised as a smile broke over his morose features. A hand reached over to Robert, slapping him heartily on the shoulders as a chuckle rolled out of his chest.

“Good God kid, look at you! Kid all your own I…” he trailed off, words lost in the joy as his hand clasped firmly upon Robert’s shoulder, shaking him once “Congratulations.”

“Thank you kindly, but…reckon i’ll worry about that after we get through this.” Matthew’s hand dropped with the mood in the room, the men both turning back to their drinks. As the town hustled and bustled and the mid-day barflies found their way into the saloon where the two sat in an uncomfortable silence, feeling the other boot lingering over their heads.

For Matthew, he drifted in a silent prayer to a God who never seemed to listen that he was right, and Mac would just pass Sin City over none the wiser that he was in town. He wasn’t afraid of dying, but putting everyone around him in danger? Especially Robert, Naoko, the stragglers in the city with no dog in the fight and no gang to back them up. Briefly, he wondered if he could call on the White Wolf to take up iron against Mac with him.

Maybe the Washington kid, after the help he gave him taking out Mac’s brother and taking his own stake of the Savior’s fortunes.

Who the hell was he kidding? None of them would lift iron cept to be the one to shoot him down. He wasn’t a fool, he knew how he was seen. He knew that even with his reputation in Reno, the stake he claimed in Imperial City and the name he had built in Valor? He was but an interloper here, in this city he only rode to because he heard a woman that wasn’t his was in trouble.

And now, he awaited death or subjugation.
Oh, the wonders life laid at his feet. A masked witch who knew about a government official he’d gunned down as a young man, all too willing and able to turn him over for the bounty and eliminate him from the equation. Leaving everyone he gave a damn about without him, his strength, his love and protection.

A mess of kids, young guns he’d taught along the way, outlaws who had rode with him but smartened up enough to hang their gun belt up and put roots down. Seemed like he was only living the way he was because he wanted to. Wasn’t no damn reason not to put Marika on Archimedes and ride off with all the cash to his name, buy a plot of land and raise some damn stability.

Maybe go become a sheriff in some other boom town.

A snort, as he cast his eyes into his drink. A nice dream and nothing more. The fires he’d started, especially in the last year? Wasn’t no peace for him. He was a dead man waitin’ on the bullet. But hadn’t he always been?
Maybe…but never quite so bad.

God, what a fucking mess of things he’d made…

He took a long pull of his drink then, turning to speak to Robert only to find the seat next to him empty. He let out a low chuckle as he nodded, sliding out of his stool and staring at the mirror with a quiet resolution. He lets a small smile spread over his features before he turns and begins to walk up the stairs, spurs jingling softly as he makes a familiar path to a familiar door.

He knocked, taking his hat off and checking his hair in the mirror by her door before bringing his hands to rest in front of himself, and plastering on his most charming smile as he awaited for it to open. It took a few before it did, but the smile that welcomed him was well worth the wait. “Figured you’d come my way eventually, darling. What can I do you for?”

He couldn't help but lean into the doorway,knees weak as ever as he  stared down at the vexing woman he'd fought himself over making honest. One hand reached out to run a slow path up a bare arm.

"Distraction, mostly. Folk sayin' I'm gonna get shot today…like they did yesterday and the one before that…" a dry chuckle rolled past chapped lips he quickly wet. "Got time in your day for a dead fool?" Now it was her turn to chuckle. “Sounds about right for your type, and you know for the right price I got all the time you got left. Come in.” Taking a step back from his touch she steps to the side, offering him entry.

“Here I thought my price was a smile..” he quipped, stepping in and leering down at her for a moment, the memories flooding in from far away of the history they shared. Pulling her from a crick some bastards had thrown her in, them taking up for one another even as the entire world called him a dragon chasin’ degenerate and her a whore with violent tendencies.

He loved her with a passion he couldn’t pretend to understand, in a special way that let him know he could never be the man she deserved. And so, they settled for what they were. Calm waters, no matter how everything else was going to hell, no matter what storm dare hit their shores.

Even with death riding hard to come and take one from the other.

“Smile can only get you so far, you know that as well as anyone, handsome.” There was a brief pause before she set to making him nice and comfy. “So with death on your heels once again, you looking to air out the last of the pain before releasing the chain? If so.. you may begin..”

And now, a word from our sponsors at the CORVID COMBAT ACADEMY

“Well, at least you didn’t disappoint, Macentyre. Everything I expected and not much more.”

“With all the skill of a poorly trained monkey, you called the camera crew over and set up your spartan little set and proceeded to talk out both sides of your mouth. You, who praises me bringing along the next generation in our sport while talking about banishing curtain jerkers and ‘lesser’ talent from SCW.”

“You, who surrounded yourself with B talent and curtain jerkers said that. With all the self awareness of an ant, and none of us were shocked. I was however, shocked to hear you reference something else. Something i’ll just put on the table because unlike you, i don’t deal in vagaries and horseshit.”

“For whatever reason, you seemed to think that referencing me fucking Kat Jones in Europe last year and not rushing her to the altar and a dream cabin in the Swiss Alps has a fucking thing to do with any of this. So let me get it out of the way, and put it to bed. She left, and acted wounded when I moved on. So wounded, she tried to make it a reason for you to hurt me.”

“Gave you a whole new soap box to stand upon and decry why you upset SCW’s fragile fucking apple cart. See, the boys get it. He’s defending his family from some dime store lethorio that dared to come sniffing around both his wife and adopted sister. Which is fine, like I give a fuck about what anyone back there thinks of me?”

“I win this title, I get to hear them all talk about me being the worst champion in history and how I plummet the stock of the belt with a touch of my finger. I’ll get Fenris posturing over how easy it will be to rip the title from me and put around his waist - actually, we’ll probably both hear that since he has a win over you this year, courtesy of that spray tanned bitch daddy you’re carting out to ringside.”

“No doubt, by the time this airs you’lll have stuck your nose in my business and made an ass out of yourself but that’s neither here nor there because we have so much more to unpack and discuss, Macentyre.”

“Like the SCW World Title. A title that i’ve said over ,and over again that I did not come here for. I meant it, hypocritical as it is to everything we stand for? I never wanted your title, I never wanted anything other than to fix a fucking problem I saw you exaserpating with your infinite fucking ignorance…but here the fuck we are, Mac.”

“You won a whole tournament, just to fight me for that bit of gold when we could have settled it on a Climax Control…but you couldn’t leave it there, huh? No, you needed the drama and the justification. The spectacle. Everyone needs to see and understand that Matthew Knox slighted the great savior of SCW, the slayer of curtain jerkers and the purifier of rosters…Macentyre Bane.”

“Nobody fucking cares, Mac.”

“This entire company is too preoccupied with posturing over the straps they handed out to give a fuck about how many of your people know how good of a kisser I am. Nobody cares that I emasculated you, outsmarted you, and sent you to the hospital in Greece. These are all ‘you’ problems. ‘You’ who nobody really has any affection for, and only respect you enough not to say terrible shit to your face…”

“You’re not a man here, Mac. You’re a target and a big fucking one at that. Career mid carder lashing out at mid carders? Knock off Alex Jones leading a Knock Off Wolve’s Lair, regurgitating every pompous inane line ever spouted by pompous, inane men like you.”

“So you know what? I’m going to take that title off you if I can, Mac. I’m going to take it from you like I took everything else from you. Like I took away the security you have in your love life, like I took away the relevancy of your stable, like I took your spot everywhere else.”

And now, we return for the thrilling conclusion of “High Noon in Sin City”!

His eyes shifted from her form in the bed as he dressed to the clock on the wall. Fifteen past eleven. He chuckled quietly, a handkerchief producing from within the unbuttoned waistcoat and taking a pass over his forehead. He stared at her quietly, before his eyes went down to begin buttoning the waistcoat, putting himself together.

He’d need to be in his church best soon, after all.

“Weren’t nothin’ with Mac’s wife..nothin’ past a near miss like any other bullet.” he knew he didn’t need to explain it, but he always did when he got stuck in whiskey and rolled in the hay with her, “Ain’t anyone out there I got any eye for, cept’ killin…you know that, don’t you Mari?”

Pulling herself away, she gave a soft nod. “Closer than any other, miss is still a miss of course. Far as your eye, seems you looking to kill your own self along with the others.”

He chuckled at the insinuation, pulling a pocketwatch from another part of the waistcoat and confirming that time had, indeed, barely moved before he sauntered over to sit on the bed once more, next to her. He stared at the watch, almost enrapt as the ticking boomed like thunder in his ears ominously. Seconds passing audibly, sounding the army of horseflesh no doubt coming to run him through and put him under.

“Runnin’ got old a long time ago..Much as I hate what things’ve become, much as I know there’s still plenty need to hear how loud my guns are…Feel like..” he trailed off, shaking his head at the thought “Feel like if it ain’t here, it’ll be up the road and everyone between the trail I leave, and them followin’ it got a risk of ending up needlessly dead…”

He turned his gaze to her “Folk like you, Robert, your sister - why, congratulations is in order…reckon you’re an aunt now..” a bit of warmth at the corners of a sad smile. His smile was met with a torn one of her own. “Once doc gives word maybe we can all give some congratulating to them..” There was a pause. “You know even with you taking them ten steps on your own.. you’re not alone and won’t ever will be, no matter how hard you try.. and we will be okay..”

He couldn’t help but shake his head once, although he didn’t vocalize how desperately he wanted her to take his horse, everything in his saddlebags and go get her and Robert, take them far away and settle somewhere they’d never draw an eye. Away from him, his chaos and any residuals that might come should today be his day. He slides a hand over the blankets until it finds hers, fingers intertwining with her own as he takes her into a gentle grip.

“Might not be lonely, but let’s not make no bones about how alone I am.” he trailed off, shaking his head “Can’t claim t’know one way or the other what way this day is goin’ but…” He second guessed his silence, another small bit of air. He couldn’t let it all out now.

It was on ration, after all.

“Feel a lot better, if you’d go up and be with ‘er til this is all over and..” he paused, brow furrowing “If there’s an after, and I get out with what he has? Maybe we go find a piece of dirt lonely as we are. Put down roots, have a bunch of kinds that’ll get shot at like we did. Grow old, lose our teeth…” he huckled.

“You’d make a damn fine granny, Mari.” His words were met with a squeeze of the hand and a shake of the head. “Me? Silly, don’t you know I’m nothing but a soiled dove.. but wrong as I am and how I made walking my home, this bed is a cozy one and I won’t be leaving it anytime soon. Not until after anyway and not without some form of you..”

He let his silence express the impact of her vow, he returned the squeeze after a moment, holding her gaze as he brought it to his lips, planting a gentle kiss upon her hand as if he were anything resembling a gentleman and she a lady of means and status.
She did have status of course, with him.

Might be good enough to get her shot someday.

They parted for what might be the last time with the smallest, most simple of kisses. Simple, honest affirmation for what neither one of them dared vocalize for fear of it being taken away like every other thing worth a damn they’d ever had.

When he stepped out into the hall and closed the door behind him, he let his eyes drift over the banister to find the bar below empty save for the barkeep, and Robert who had returned with a scattergun. He fiddled with his hat, casting his gaze back up the stairs for a fleeting moment where his body screamed to just get back in that warm bed, with that warm woman and wait for the bullet.

Another part of him reconsidered getting on his horse, and making a chase of it. Buy a day, post a letter to all his kids apologizing for all the wrong he did. Maybe end up in an opium den and do the deed before they could.

The part of him that lived up to those fleeting deed couldn’t let him, though. His eyes coming to rest once more on the deputy, a kid who might as well have been his son or little brother as much as he brought him up. He could see the gears turning in his head, read the tension in his body.

He was afraid, but they both knew he’d never admit it.

He tapped the hat against his thigh once more, before making the long strides over to the bar. He drew his silver-plated Colt 1851 Navy Revolver, making sure he was at least ready for a fight as he walked up to stand next to Robert, waving the barkeep over who brought him another glass of bonded.

“Mari says congratulations on the kid.”

“If I ever get to see it..”

A scoff as Matthew raises his eyes to gaze upon the younger man.

“Ain’t a one of them can take you, or run you up a tree. You know that ‘bout as well as I do..”

“Ain’t a one of them ever been as mad as they are now.”

“Guess not…”

“Was it worth it?”

“‘Scuse me?”

He let his gaze cut back from where it had drifted to his reflection once more, bringing the glass up to his lips and taking a long pull as Robert shook his head, keeping his eyes on the liquid in his own glass that he couldn’t bring himself to touch. He needed to be sharp, not relaxed. Not slow.
Slow was dead.
And he had something to live for.

“Was it worth all the bullshit? Getting that taste of cinnamon you were chas-”

“It wasn’t like that, Robert.”

“Mac and all them guns seem to think otherwise…” he retorted, before cutting off Matt’s reply “Doesn’t matter, though. What did or didn’t happen. They’re on the warpath, and wanna see you dead. You and anyone stands with you…hell, you walk out of this and you got that witchy bitch in the mask to contend with.”

“You got nowhere left to run, Matt. Much as they call you a Raven you can’t fly away from this one.”

Matthew remained silent, taking another drink and quietly producing rolling papers and a tin of tobacco, grimacing at the slim pickings before rolling up a rather thin and poor excuse for a last cigarette which he gripped between his teeth as he fished a match out of his waistcoat.

“I ever tell you why they call me that?”

“Ye-”

“No, not that poet shit. The real reason.”

Matthew struck the match, sparking up the cigarette and taking a drag before exhaling the smoke toward the mirror, distorting the reflection.

“Because everywhere I go, bad shit follows. People wanna talk about me not havin’ roots…how can you put those down when all you do is wrought Raze and Ruin on your world and everyone silly enough to try and be in it…” he turned his gaze to Robert, cigarette hanging from his lips “Ain’t nothin’ I done worth everything it did to everyone else. Took forty some odd years to understand, but days like these?
Afford a bit of clarity..”

He took another drag in the silence that followed, eyes going up to stare at a clock that showed a hand more deadly than his. Five til noon. He nodded, knowing in his gut more than by the ominous silence.

“‘Bout that time, ain’t it?” Robert asked, evading the explanation and trying to focus up on the now. On getting through this, and to the other side. Like he always said there was to these situations.

“Sure is…” Matthew drew the Colt once more, checking it over before adding “Robert?”

“Yeah?”

“Take care of that kid, and the girls…”

“Wh-”

The thick thud of steel on flesh and skull bounced off the walls as the younger man crumpled to the floor. Matthew stared down at him, then up to the flabbergasted barkeep. He picked up his glass as he holstered his pistol, finishing it and then Robert’s before tipping his hat to the man behind the counter, and producing the bills he’d slept upon to protect, laying them on the bartop.

“Get him home, soon as it’s over…” he pushed the scattergun toward the man, nodding once before heading toward the door. He stopped just short, taking a moment to look over his shoulder and up the stairs, a smile cracks his features as he turned back toward the door.

“At least I ain’t leavin’ alone…” he whispered to himself quietly as he placed his hands on the saloon doors, leaning into them and exhaling once. The distant sound of approaching hooves sending ice through his veins. The butterflies in his stomach calmed, taking perch as everything seemed to slow down and become brighter.

Through it all, he heard a Raven call. His eyes gazed upward then, catching sight of the blackbird across the street just as he caught the lineup out of the corner of his eye. Sneering faces, the ominous presence of the Outlaw King, and a shock of red hair that was the first domino into the dirt becoming its own shade of crimson.

His eyes drifted to the Raven once more, then to his fate as he smiled, throwing the doors open and stepping out to meet his feet, declaring:

“You’ve come for me!”
“Only one of us is walking out of that ring, Mac. Only one of us gets to see the ‘after’ in the light of day. Hell, my days are already dim because your inability to be a fucking husband has led to me being indentured to a psychopath…”

“But my god, would seeing you walk around sullen and defeated underneath the same bullshit bravado you strut with now act as a gorgeous fucking salve.”

“Seeing the look in your eyes, when I dare walk around here with your prized SCW World Heavyweight Championship. Bringing yet another disappointing end to a disappointing reign. Hell, maybe i’ll take it a step further and whip your ass four times just so Alex Jones can mention me in another promo and up his stock - Sup, pup?”

“It didn’t have to be like this though, you know?”

“Even with the pretense of my arrival, we didn’t have to devolve so quickly to where we have. Sure, your paranoia about me and your wife was far reaching into our past but still, whatever that may have been? Never would be what it is now, had it not been for you..”

“Let me ask you something, Mac…do you remember a night in Reno, back when we were both in Uprising? Amber had just won a match, you caught me going in to talk to her. The cameras, being the snitches they are, of course caught the moment. Caught Amber untaping, looking far too fragile. Caught us sharing a moment of worry, you making some comment about how it’s always like that…”

“And that’s what makes me so depressed.”

“You know the woman, and not just the hurricane. And yet, when she needed you the most? When she needed you to be a husband, to step to Masque and let her know that Amber was not alone to be preyed upon and manipulated? You chose to launch this dick measuring contest with your buddies, and chase a strap that was always going to be there.”

“You chose something temporary over someone you swore your life to in front of God and everyone who saw it. You fucking lied, and it got my friend hurt. And now? Now I get ahold of you. I get ahold of you without any outside bullshit, any cops showing up, no security, nothing to save you but what God gave you and said was talent…”

“Well..hell, that’s not fair. I’m getting emotional, and I apologize because one thing I can’t take from you is that you are one bad motherfucker, Mac. Wins over some bad motherfuckers, some of the best and most vicious.  You hit like a fully loaded semi and your fundamentals are beyond question.”

“I’m not ashamed to say, that your matches are on the playlist at the Academy. Look no further to see proof that the meat and potatoes of fighting can still get you all the way in the ‘biz’. For that Mac, you are the measuring stick. You are the standard, the Higher Standard as it were…”

“I’ve just never quite been so standard myself…”

“No, Mac. I’m the guy who seizes the fucking day and faces everything in his path down with the same wrath, resilience and self assurance. You can set yourr fucking clock to me if you knew how to tell time.
But…wait, no that kind of counters your narrative doesn’t it?”

“I changed. I’m a bad man who wants to be good but can’t. I’m the absolute dregs of humanity. Chris Page’s favorite wrestler…all the worst insults you can think of, I'm sure you’ve thought them. Especially every time you smell vanilla. Every time you look at her, and see me. See my fingerprints…”

“They’re on her shoulder blades, by the way.”

“I haven’t changed Mac. Not one iota. I am as I always have been. An inconvenient truth. The honesty everybody wants until it’s being dealt to them. I’m here to deal you your honesty, Mac. I wish words were enough, but no you need to be Taught. You need to be taught that what you did cannot stand, and there is a price to be paid for lying and dishonouring a pact you made with my friend ,and my God.”

“I know, I know…mighty big words from a hypocrite. Because, i’m just as much marked with a red letter as she is now eh? Difference here is Mac, unlike you? I never claimed to be a good man. I never claimed to be anything except who and what I am.
And what that is will be the absolute end of you.”

“Every fighter has that one fight they can trace back to, the one that was a turning point. The one that dealt the death blow and rendered everything after it the final throes of life. The one that you feel when you wake up, when you go to pick up your children, when you go to bed it’s the last pain you feel before your eyes closed.”

“I’m going to be that fight, Mac. I’m going to make sure that even if you leave me a broken, bleeding pile of gore and mess in that ring? I’m going to live with you for the rest of your days. I’m going to be the ghost haunting your bones, and your home. Every time you smell vanilla, your eyes will dart to her and your body will jolt in fear that the violence I wrought unto it is returning.”

“I’m going to fucking Ruin You.”

“I am Raze, I am Ruin. I am the Raven…and in Athens? I will send you Into The Void, and walk out with your Title. And while you watch me walk up the ramp, Chris Page cradling your empty head in his lap as you both weep in your failure? Know two things.”

“Know them as you’ll come to know God.”

“You couldn’t stop me.”

“And this was all your fault.”

[Mac]

The Season of Settling Scores Part 3

“The fury of a demon instantly possessed me. I knew myself no longer. My original soul seemed, at once, to take its flight from my body; and a more than fiendish malevolence, gin-nurtured, thrilled every fiber of my frame.” -  Edgar Allan Poe, The Black Cat

{Hotel - Greece - “Family”}
[off-camera]
[Saturday 3 AM]

While I am an asshole on television, that’s not something I will ever be when it comes to my family. So when the phone rang, I looked at the caller i.d. and it was my youngest sister, Angie. I slid the bar over immediately because she’s the kind that never calls because she needs something. “Hey sis,” I began and she launched into her story. “Big brother, I need a huge favor!” She was obviously fan girling over something. I laughed as I sat up. “It’s not funny, Mac! This is uber important!” Amber looked at me, then rolled over and hugged my arm. Looking down at her I could tell she was amused by the call itself. So she sat up to listen in. Angie, “So, I was listening to Rachel Zion on the radio and she always communicates with her fans on Facebook, because she has the best radio show ever!” I cannot hide my amusement and Amber rolls her eyes but we continue to listen. “You’re coming back to the states soon, right?”

“Yeah, we have a flight later this morning,” I said with a smile. “Oh boy! Can you come to Port Arthur on Tuesday around lunchtime?” “Well, I’ll see what I can do Ang, but you know we are on a tight schedule right now.” A short pause for a deep breath and we braced for the incoming barrage. “So, I know you went to school with Rachel, and she loves you and Amber, she’s always talking about the Golden Couple of wrestling. So, I was hoping you could guys could introduce me to her.” Then Silence on the line, “We can certainly try sis.” Then she began to ramble on about how grateful she was. She hung up shortly after that. “Wow,” was all Amber said before rolling back over and going to sleep.

A few days later

We got to Port Arthur right before noon, my baby sister was there already. She was so excited to see us, dressed in her jeans, boots, and button-down blouse. She had really put in the extra effort for this introduction. She came running up to the rental car, like some wild thing that was amped up on espresso or something. Amber and I looked at each other and laughed a little. Then we exited the car, and gave her fierce hugs. I looked up from my hug with her and could see Rachel inside the restaurant where they were doing a live event today and if I read her lips correctly, she had said “Holy Shit!”. I smiled at the reception. With one arm around my baby sister and holding Amber’s hand, we went inside. The whole place was very excited when we came into the place. Some of these people I knew from high school, in Rachel’s case, had been Melissa’s best friend in high school and were one of the bridesmaids when Melissa and I married. “How the hell are ya, Mac?” She rushed over and gave me a hug. “Oh my fucking god, Amber fucking Ryan, as I live and breathe.” Then she rushed Amber and gave her a hug. I flinched, mostly because in social situations that shit could be dicey with Red. She did fine though and even hugged her back.

‘Shit, I’m sorry, I’m a hugger,” she began to apologize to Amber who to her credit waved it off as nothing. “It’s okay really, thank you so much for talking about us on the radio, we appreciate that very much.” She blushed a little, “Not gonna lie I’m fan girling really hard here.” I’d have to intervene soon and Amber knew that as well, looking over at me briefly. “Rach, this is my baby sister Angie, I wanted to introduce you to each other. She loves your show.” To my and Amber’s surprise, my baby sister turned the fangirl thing way down to low levels. Maybe it was her business sense that took over from there. “I know you,” Rachel said. “You’re the young lady he commented on my manicure posts, and girl your nails are fantastic. Where do you get them done?”

My baby sister was on fucking point as she lead the conversation from there. Amber whispered to me, “I had no idea.” I smiled and shrugged my shoulders, kind of dumbfounded myself all I could say was, “who knew?”. I thought to myself, Angie knew, that’s for certain. She spoke with confidence and never missed a beat while explaining the product she was selling. I’ve always been proud of my family but that was a special proud brother moment for me. I was so glad that I agreed to do this for her.

{LAX - Los Angeles CA - “A Mistake”}
[off-camera]
[Sunday 4 PM]
There is a distinct advantage to flying private over public. People. Always fucking people who are super annoying is the only way to put it. I had a four-hour layover in Germany and another four and a half here in L.A. I sat not too far away from the terminal, watching the planes arrive and leave, more as an amusement than anything. I kept catching this dude from the corner of my eye, who was watching me. He seemed upset and likely drunk as he would glare for a minute and then get up and pace. He was obviously talking himself into something. It was likely something stupid, but such is life. So me being me, I took my bandanna and sunglasses off and stored them in my carry-on bag. This guy is one of those travelers who gets juiced up at an airport bar. I could smell him and his obvious need for whiskey. I smirked when I saw he was wearing an old “Carnage Wrestling” Matt Knox T-shirt. I casually looked in his direction so he could be sure that I was the guy he wanted to confront. I simply smiled, and evidently, that was enough for his courage to be at maximum. I watched him sway a bit as he approached. “Yep, smashed out of his fucking mind,” I said to no one in particular. He came over and stopped in front of me.

“You’re that Mac Bane guy, did the show in Greece?” I looked up and nodded my confirmation to him. “I am.” He could have done anything else in the world but he chose to stick his finger in my face, just about a quarter-inch from my nose. He then started yelling at me, belligerent insults about how I let my marriage rot, regurgitating a lot of the same shit as Knox had said. “Remove your finger from my face, only warning you’ll get.” He looked at me, kind of dumbstruck, as if it didn’t register with him that he had made an egregious mistake. When he didn’t do as I asked, people around him started to murmur. He got brave and tried to jab me in the eye with his finger. Which I reacted to, quickly raising my left arm to knock it away, and counter striking with a fist to the exposed solar plexus. That one counter, had him on the floor before he could even comprehend what just happened. “Son, I get it. You’re a wrestling fan and obviously a mark for Knox. My recommendation for you is that you go sleep it off.” The smell of whiskey, probably jack daniels I’d assume. “And for fucks sakes, understand your audience and your enemy. I am NOT someone who tolerates fools.” As he writhed on the ground in pain, I simply stepped on his right hand to apply a simple wrist lock. I was still applying pressure to the wrist lock when security showed up.

“Mister Bane, we’ll handle it from here.” I nodded to the security officers and released the wrist lock allowing them to drag him to his feet. “Will you need a statement from me?” I asked in a polite manner. “No sir,” He motioned toward the terminal desk. “The ladies saw what was happening and called us. I think we’ve got everything we need.” The young man who had assaulted me was being led away in stunned silence at what just happened. “At least the binders will keep him from making an ass of himself for the time being,” I said in an amused tone. I sat back down and went back to staring out the window watching the planes arrive. That simple act of defending myself would practically guarantee that I would have peace for the rest of my time in L.A. I thought about what happened just now. I wouldn’t press charges, that’s always a waste of time. That young man, wouldn’t learn anything from the experience, so why bother. I mean, he doesn’t realize it yet, but he put himself in far more danger than he realized. Funny enough, so did the man he was such a huge fan of. Knox had pushed me passed the limit, there was no doubt about that. It was taking every ounce of everything I am to hold my destructive nature at bay. Just until the match, then there would be no holding anything in check. I would destroy him for his assumption that I was like everyone else.

Fade

{Top of the World - Las Vegas NV - “Errors In Judgement”}
[off-camera]

Two Days Prior

In this world, there are a lot of people that will literally do anything to turn a buck. They will set your business on fire because you’ve made an enemy at some point in your life. They will try to kill members of your family. They’ll also pay the paparazzi for pictures of your loved ones, in compromising positions. So, that being said, let’s move this story along.

I was at the Oblivion Garage, checking on progress, we were about halfway home, which was amazing to me. Amber and I could never have gotten this far this fast on our own. My moment of reverie was broken by the ringing of my phone. So, even though it came from an unlisted number, I slid the bar to answer it. “This is Mac.” was my response to the caller. The voice when they replied was disguised, it came across as robotic and devoid of emotion. “Mr. Bane, we have some business we’d like to discuss with you. We will be at the top of the world restaurant in two days' time. Make certain you are there, it would be a shame if these pictures I have of your wife were to become public and further damage both of your reputations.” The call then disconnected.

Needless to say, I cussed like a sailor after getting that call. I was pretty sure of where the pictures came from. I wouldn’t say anything though, certainly not to Amber, she had enough on her plate at the moment. I heard voices from far off to my left, and much to my surprise, my wife, looking as stressed out as usual came out. She was evidently coming out of the meeting with Reverend McCrae. A meeting I had no knowledge of. I was trying to be more trusting of her, so I didn’t give her the evil eye or anything, just a warm smile as she and the reverend approached. “Ah, Mister Bane, what do you think of the progress so far?” Yep, this guy was a snake oil salesman alright but I’d play along for the time being. “Amazing,” I said with a little bit of awe in my voice. “It really does look amazing.” I smiled as I shook his hand. “Wouldn’t you say so, Red?” She nodded her head slowly as if trying to think of what to say. “It is, Mac I’m sorry I forgot to tell you about this meeting. It was really just to finalize some details and the problem with logistics.” I smiled and nodded, “It’s all good, Red. Thank you for handling it, I appreciate it.” I lied almost as easily as she did just then. There was a lot more to that story than she was letting on.

Present Day

Which led me here today, sitting in the restaurant, I took in the sites and smells of it. This was an expensive place to eat, not a place that Amber and I would ever go out to unless it was a public relations event of some kind. I’m sure that this clown was using this very public setting to make sure I behaved myself. Little does he know, that I am never afraid of making a scene. However, I’d take a look at what he has and listen to what he had to say. As instructed I ordered the charred Ahi for my guest and the calamari fries for myself. It would be someone that just came up and sat down with me. Imagine my surprise when the woman that came up and sat down was a dead ringer for Amber.

“Thank you so much, Mac, this looks wonderful” Her voice was too sweet for my wife, but the casual passerby wouldn’t think anything of it. She looked enough like Red and smelled like her too. I don’t know how she knew that detail but the cinnamon perfume was dead on. “Impressive, is it not?” She asked in a very coy way and winked at me. I finally found my voice, “It is, very detail oriented I see.” She smiled prettily at me, “Well, she does have good taste in perfume at least.” I nodded, “Not so much in men?” I asked in an equally coy way. She laughed, just as the waiter arrived. “Are you prepared to order?” His slow and deliberate speech was a bit off-putting. Before I could speak, she cut me off, “Yes, I’d like the prime rib, new york style. My husband will have the bone-in ribeye. I waited for the waiter to wander off, “My husband?”, she shot me a warning glance. “Oh yes the game, and if I don’t choose to play?” She glared at me and produced an envelope, “that picture goes out to every dirt sheet and major publication in the world.”

I tapped my index finger on the tabletop for a moment. I’m not worried about the dirt sheets so much, we can claim photoshop on that, but the others… “That’s right honey, you need to think very carefully about your next move and words, and I did think it through very carefully. “The cost?” She eyed me for a moment and then produced another envelope. Looking at it, I then looked up at her. “Is that the final figure?” She smiled, “We are not trying to force you into bankruptcy.” The food arrived just then so the conversation was cut off. The waiter cleared away the starters, and I saw an exchange between the two, it was just a glance and a slight nod given to him by her. Now I knew who, the real question was why. “So, when I pay this, how will I know it won’t be released anyway?” She smiled again, in that uncomfortable way. “You’ll just have to trust me, Mac.” I began laughing and I took her small hand in mine and leaned in as close as I could. When I spoke to her, it was in a very quiet voice, “You had better send me every copy of these fucking pictures or I will hunt you and your boyfriend back there down and kill the both of you. Do you understand me?” She gulped and turned a very white shade of pale and nodded her head.

“Does this envelope have your contact information or the account number I’m wiring the money to?” She nodded, not saying a word. “Un-fucking-believable,” I said in that same low voice. “I’ve never understood why people do things like this.” I shook my head in disgust as I opened the envelope, finding what I was looking for, I accessed an application on my phone. I transferred the amount to the account listed. “Check your balance, dear,” I said through clenched teeth. She nodded, “Was it you or him that took the pictures?” I asked again in that soft but threatening way that I have about me. “It’s there, it was me, and it was planned. Pro athletes make so much money…” I held up a finger to her lips shushing her. “We do, but we are also the ones that put her bodies and lives on the line for the sake of entertainment and competition. What gives you the right to attack one of or any of us in this way.” She nodded, “I grew up very poor, there were many nights there was nothing to eat.” It sounded rehearsed, but I let that go. “Since you know so much about myself and my wife, you’d know that we both grew up poor and on a lot of days went to bed hungry. Sorry, not buying your sob story.” I released her hand and she calmed a bit. “Where are the other copies of this picture?”

The young man that she was obviously working with, made his appearance, “Is everything okay? Your companion seems to be a little stressed.” I looked up at him with the best fuck you look I could manage. “Where are the rest of the photos?” He looked between the two of us and almost panicked, fortunately for the three of us this place was empty. I grabbed him by the tie and pulled him toward me. “Kid, you can fuck with me all you want, you start fucking with my family and I’ll end you. I’m going to ask one more time, politely.”

“Where
Are
The
Fucking
Pictures?!”

He was doing his best to hold it together as I released his tie. “I’ll get them now”, he said through a shuddering breath. He placed a thumb drive on the table. “We never loaded them to our laptop at home.” I looked at them both, “Take a seat kid.” He only hesitated for a moment. “When I get up from this table, you are going to do two things. You will come to sit where I am now and enjoy this meal. Your girl over there is going to pay for it. Is that clear?” He nodded his head, obviously still very scared. “If I ever see either of you again, this deal is null and void. I’ll know you’re out to hurt my family again, and I’ll do what any Texan would do.” I looked between them and they both nodded. “If those pictures make their way out into the world, I know your faces and since you weren’t smart enough to use an anonymous name on that account I know your names.” Again they nodded, “Young lady put your hands back up on the table I wouldn’t want to think your reaching for the pea shooter in your bag.” She quickly did as commanded. “The bright side here is, your plan worked, you are now a lot more wealthy than you were half an hour ago. I stood up with the forty-five caliber pistol still in my right hand. I slipped it back into my holster and covered it. “Remember what I said, both of you. My benevolence only goes so far.” They both quickly nodded, and in unison said, “thank you.” I picked up the envelopes from the table and started for the door.

“Some things are just not worth going to prison for kids,” I said as I walked out of the room. I paused long enough by the door to watch the young man start eating my meal as I stepped out into the hallway. I waited long enough to hear him say, “Yes that was the only copy, I swear!” then she replied to him, “you fucking moron, we could have gotten so much more money if you hadn’t caved like a bitch.” I chuckled, just as I thought. I took my phone back out again, logging into the application and then reversing the transaction, “And now you’re poor again.” I said with all amusement and felt zero guilt about it.

Fade.

{In-Studio - Las Vegas NV - “Half-Truths and Lies.”}
[on-camera]
[Sunday, May 8th at 7 PM]

I stand in the studio that Amber and I built in our home, way back when we first bought it. Tonight I’m dressed in something more simple and comfortable. Simple grey tracksuit pants, a white t-shirt with black lettering that says “Dominate” on it. My super comfortable sketchers slide on shoes. My hair hangs loose. I’ve turned the lighting down a bit dimmer than normal to allow the moonlight to brighten up just a touch. I had just finished watching Knox’s promo and was more than a little amused. We were getting ready for the showdown at Ano Liosia Olympic Sports Hall in Athens Greece.

Well, shit, Matt. I guess nothing is off-limits now, is it? Someone was trying to be funny, okay it actually was funny. My wife called you daddy? Really? That’s fucking hilarious to me. You always warn people about talking about your kids but there we are. The reason it’s so funny to me is, that your own kids have never called you that. Of course, by the time they actually knew about you, that part of their childhood had passed, hadn’t it? Fucking dead beat. Get the fuck out of here with that nonsense. You should tell Corey he’s got nothing to worry about as far as his crown goes. The only thing you’re the king of is cheap heat. I mean in your first promo you made a lot of accusations. Why? Oh, that’s the easy part. He’s scared. He knows that I am the guy that can put him down. That’s what scares him most in his life, is that he’ll piss the wrong guy off and they’ll end his career. That would mean he doesn’t get to choose when and where he goes out. The wrestling world knows it too which scares him even more. Dumbass put a poll out there and it was favored by quite a lot to me. Corey Black and I were two of the three, some roided up chick that I can’t remember the name of was the third. Who gives a shit right? It’s just another stupid Twitter poll that doesn’t amount to shit. It doesn’t make them wrong, it’s just that they are not in this match. Oh, by the way, Matthew, recycling things you’ve said to others in order to wax poetic? Regurgitating that same old pathetic poem you used against Ken? That’s beyond sad, Chief. Quoth the Raven…blah blah blah.

Shaking my head, I sigh a bit, before continuing.

Regardless of you wanting to be a poet, I made you the guy I would face for a reason. See, when I made the announcement, what most people missed was that I said that you were not a real contender, just the next to pay the price. Mostly because I want you to be humbled, you need it, and no one will argue that point. While you walk around accusing others of hubris, all the while not accepting of your own faults. Some would call it hypocrisy, but  I can’t even call it that, it’s way beyond that. You’re one thousand percent correct, I’m an arrogant prick. Rightly so, I might add. I had no break in my career. I didn’t drop off the face of the earth into a trashcan because I couldn’t handle success. I don’t have an addictive personality so I didn’t succumb to the same trap you did. I’m proud of you for being clean for so long, Heroine is a fucking nightmare. Maybe the most important thing is that I didn’t successfully kill every relationship I had in order to chase pussy. I sure as fuck didn’t knock up a dozen women just to prove I could. I didn’t want my children to grow up not knowing their father or whether he loved them or not. Funny enough, one of your own kids reached out to me and asked if I would be her dad. Not her Daddy but her father. You really should spend more time with Ronnie to see if you can patch that up. That one has a real deep-seated hatred for you. Not that you care that much about any of them. You didn’t have a hand in raising them after all. Why should you give a shit about people you barely know. I mean, I get it, as did the magazine. What was the headline, The biggest douchebag in our industry has all the gold? Well, not all of it. Really not even a tenth of a percentage to be fair. All the gold in the industry won’t fill the void in your heart.

My look of amusement has not changed at all, I smirk at the camera.

I’m going to make something perfectly clear. You say you're coming to fight, let me assure you. You’ve never been around me when I go to that place. You are not ready for what’s coming for you. I’m not trying to scare you, I don’t want you to be able to say that you had no idea. Let’s just go ahead and get this out of the way. His name is Alex Jones, not Alix. Alix is your daughter, you might want to get that clear in your head. I mean I know Alex can be a bit of a bitch but com’on man. There is so much talk about moral high ground and penance these days. It just makes me laugh. Another point for you bird brain, I often did take the moral high ground in my past.  Penance? Nah, I’ll save you a seat on the bus to hell. We can revel in old times, damn…I hope they have scotch. Probably not though, they probably only have that cheap shit you drink. You’ll also have to forgive me, I didn’t grow up in a catholic school nor was I born Jewish, so guilt really has no place in my heart.

My smirk never slides, but, I force myself into taking on a more serious tone.

Never broke your stare? More importantly, I flinched? Things you should consider before running your mouth about me. What I did in my first ten months here. It’s almost unparalleled in this company's history. I was a triple crown champion in my first ten months. That was with me stepping away for at least 2 months. You never flinched? Please, you started whoring yourself out to any company that would have you. Well, up until you lost a match or two, then it was the same old same old. You weren’t good enough for those places, and you quit. Just like in Carnage when you couldn’t beat Amber or Joe. People who work for Sin City tend to do the same after I embarrass them. They want the title but they’re not really willing to put in the work or pay the price to take it from me. Believe me, the price is high, you’ll start figuring that out once the bell rings. I hope you’re not going to be like some other people around here. I beat them, they can’t believe they lost and they run for Florida as quick as they can. They always show up for the Blast From The Past tournament though. They also, always scream the loudest, too funny. Oh, wait I shouldn’t forget the funniest part of your promo. I’ve never stood on my own…

I begin laughing so hard and slapping my thigh. Then  I abruptly stop.

Lemme tell ya something. In my time here and elsewhere, I’ve been a part of a few stables. This one? The Saviors weren’t even a thing until after I started my second reign as world champion. These days, it doesn’t really matter the why’s or the what’s of a stable being formed. No one will ever give the originators of the stable credit for forming a stable. It doesn’t matter if the reason is noble or nefarious. They always want to tear down what they didn’t create. My opinion on this is the same as it’s been for twenty years. I don’t give a fuck about your opinion. For your words to have any impact on me, I would have to value you as a person. You killed that not long after your arrival. So, instead of having a match with an old friend, I’ll just be putting down another rabid dog with no sense of pride, class, or honor. Knox, I can assure you, that when you look across the ring at me, you will have come face to face with the enemy. An enemy with no remorse, and no regrets, only malicious intent. I said it before and I’ll say it again, you’re fucked. You won’t walk away from this one. The reason is so simple, there are certain lines that should never be crossed. It’s okay that you want to blame me, but it doesn’t track, especially when you yourself finally admitted your obsession. You also blamed Amber for your situation with Masque. So, tell me again Matthew how I’m going to pay for my sins? Yeah, I don’t think so. You crossed the line, and I’m going to make you pay. It’s not going to be enjoyable for you, it will be a slow and methodical picking apart of the human anatomy. Maybe I’ll put up a Twitter poll of my own and ask people what they would like me to break first. Your jaw, so you can’t talk? Your fingers so you can’t type. Maybe it will be your legs, so you can’t walk away from this and have to have accountability for your own actions. Nah, that would only set expectations, unfair expectations at that. Considering you may not even make it to Into the Void.

My nostrils flared, and my brows furrowed as I glared at the camera.

Now then, I could go on and on with this dick measuring contest, but really what’s the point. I’m the only world champion in this match that matters. In Sin City, this title is the one that matters.

I hold the title belt up with both hands, looking over the edge of it, then slowly I lower it.

That’s not to say that yours doesn’t matter, it just doesn’t matter here. I will always respect your ability, but that is the only thing I respect about you.

Looking thoughtful for a moment, I smile recalling a conversation I had recently.

By now, I’m sure you heard all about what I did to Larry Tact. That was just a small dose of what I’m going to do to you. What happened at thirteen, was exactly as we envisioned. Still though, on a very small dose, as payment of what I owe you.  I know you have no love lost for Kat, and yes she most definitely did hit you from behind with a pipe. Why do you suppose that was? It’s called betrayal Matt. You betrayed her and you paid a price. Have you ever seen what happens to a person, when they see what they believed was their future at the time, just vanish? Like when they discover that the person who they thought loved them is exposed for being obsessed with another man’s wife? I can’t tell you how many times I held that woman as she cried because of you. She’s family and she matters to me, she may not mean shit to you, but to some of us, she means a lot. As usual, you told a half-truth, you conveniently left out the part where you handcuffed her to a cage and lifted it into the ceiling for payback. You also conveniently left out the part where you had asked Kat where she would go when it came time to retire. She told me, although I’m not really all that shocked that she didn’t tell you, all things considered.

My appearance changes, if looks could kill, Knox would be dead three times before he hit the ground.

As for the comments you made about Seb, Chris, and others. Why? They really don’t even factor into this fight at all. While it’s true that Page will be in my corner, he’s never yet interfered in one of my fights. Neither has any member of CCPE. I see you out there trying to say that we are a stable, while amusing, it’s not factual. There are a number of us that don’t see eye to eye and are definitely not on the same page. Chris is our agent, to be blunt about it. He’s provided opportunities that many of them wouldn’t have had. We like having Chris work for us, and I’ll give you an example. My own net worth has almost doubled in the short time he’s worked for me. Seems to me that you’re being pissy with him because he never pursued you as a client. He had considered you, once upon a time before you started being such cunt. I guess it’s those years you spent away from the industry. It’s like you have this need to pick a fight with anyone and everyone. Knowing full well, that many of the people you’ve been poking could end your career. I realize that is a kind of morbid outlook but if you were to stop and think, for once, you’d also realize it’s true.

I shrug and smile as I continue.

Again, you won’t hear me, and that’s okay. I mean, it’s a proven fact, not a tact fact but a proven fact that you are a narcissistic gaslighting piece of shit. You had the balls to blame my wife for the position you find yourself in with Masque. I guess in the end, in the end…

I begin laughing, almost manically and then I stop.

In the end, it looks as though Karma has you in her clutches. All that time you spent trying to save someone who didn’t need saving, to begin with. Now, you’re trapped in your own fucking game. I wonder who might step up and save the lesser Raven. Now, that is a tough call, isn’t it? I can tell you who it won’t be, I’ll give you three guesses and the first two don’t count.

I shake my head in disgust, wondering why he just won’t listen. I told him several times not to try and involve himself in our business.

If I had a heart, I’d almost feel sorry for you. I can’t though, you put yourself in this position.

Songbird.

From Raven to Songbird, she really should start calling you pigeon, that would be more accurate. Between that and trying to start a war with the stars of every company out there, you’re spread far too thin, Matt. What happened to you? You’ve lost a ton of IQ points over the last two years. You’re tired and need rest. You’ll get some rest coming up shortly though. I’m going to pick you apart, son. Limb by limb, you are going to suffer. See, I’m not Joe, I’m not strictly a brawler, there’s far more to me than that. They pay me to hurt people, and you’ll find out, I’m really fucking good at it.

Glaring at the camera again, I set my jaw to that my intensity and intent are clear.

I’ll even give you some information that you probably didn’t know about it. That fight in the desert, when I drew first blood. You said you didn’t know I could move like that. Not everything you see on television or on tapes will reveal everything they know. Everything they are capable of. Take my background for example. You know I served my country as a member of the construction battalion. Forward operations and SEALS are trained in Krav Maga. A martial art that is more closely related to real-world situations. Situations we might run into out in the world.

I stretch my fingers out, listening as they all pop one after the other.

Now you know one of my oldest secrets. In the past few years, I started incorporating it into my match preparation. Knowing it and planning for it are two different things. I know about your own background, I’m not concerned in the least. It won’t help you, just like it didn’t help you in that fight out in the desert.

I roll my neck, listening to the vertebrae pop, each one providing a little relief. When I speak, it’s in a low-level tone devoid of emotion.

Your recklessness in the ring is well known. Being reckless against me would be suicidal. Trying the mat game against me would be suicidal. Being in the ring with me right now in my current frame of mind is stupid. But, then again, that’s what you do. I don’t fight like you do Matt, I use it all to my advantage, my opponent's lapses, their lack of attention to detail.  I use my knowledge of almost twenty years of active in-ring competition. My knowledge of the human anatomy, and what their strengths and weaknesses are, both mentally and physically. You don’t understand any of that though. You’ll do your usual thing, spinning lies and twisting the truth. You’ll come into this match supremely arrogant. Last but certainly not least, I’ll put you down hard, Raven, there won’t be enough left of you for Marika to scrape up into a dustpan. I told you not to fuck around and find out, and here we are. I would say I’m sorry in advance, but I’m not, when it’s self-inflicted Matthew, I’ll have no sympathy, regret, remorse, or even an iota of guilt for fucking you up. Not for what I did to you at thirteen and not what I’ll do in our match at Into The Void. I am not however without some kindness, so I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll have Ken come to ringside and when the smoke clears and you’re on your back bleeding like you were at Thirteen, I’ll have him perform last rights over your broken body.

Fade.