[Derek Thorne]

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His blue-green eyes fell on his cold surrounds, narrowing as he scanned the horizon on offer before him. His hometown was no different from what he remembered. It was still the over populated, cold, rubbish hell-hole that was encrypted with his memories. Memories that he wished would stay distant, memories that he wished wouldn’t coming calling his name at night. For the second time in his life he stood in the middle of Stockholm Sweden, for the second time he had dragged himself back here even after swearing several times before to never return.

This time he wasn’t coming to rebuild old bridges, this time he wasn’t coming back to become a hero, he was coming back here on a mission. Knowing him he wouldn’t be here for long, as the very tiny hairs on the back of his neck stood on the edge as the wind blew past him. The touch of the wind on his rough skin felt as if it was acting as a hand wanting to grab at him and pull him back into his hometown. Inhaling hastily through his nostrils the Swede turned his head slightly to his left as the sound of a firm soled business shoe clapped against the hard concrete flooring. As the footsteps drew near, he didn’t turn back to greet the person. His eyes stayed fixed on the awe inspiring landscape in front of him. The vision of picture perfection of snow-capped mountains, green forestry and endless streams of water tempted him. The isolated scenery of Sweden that was far from the main city of Stockholm was calling him, begging for his forgiveness. How could he hate the place that brought him life? How could he hate pure perfection?

The solid footsteps came to a halt beside him, as the sound of a large duffle bag slapping against the flooring awoke him from his torment. To the right of him stood a large muscular figure that commanded attention, even if he was wearing casual clothing. Onlookers and passer-byes were drawn to his stature as he stood flexed, ready for whatever he was about encounter. As the two men stood side by side not saying a word, not even exchanging a glance a set of rushed footsteps came gliding up behind them. The sound of designer shoes slipping peacefully on the concrete pierced his ears. He knew exactly who it was, without even having to turn around and see.

His eyes continued to stare down the glorious scenery in front of him, his eyes focusing on the trees in the distance that were swaying side to side from the southerly breeze. He hated that direction of gust, he hated how it always tried to drag him back home, drag him back to his father, his mother but more importantly he hated how it tried to drag him back to her. His body tensed up as his right hand clenched up and made a fist, the thought of her was enough to make his fiery blood snap freeze in his veins crippling his nervous system. His eyes stayed opened almost frozen on the sights in front of him, as his top row of teeth grinded over his bottom row. The very act reminded him that he was more animal that human, he was more of a beast than a man all because of this country all because of his surroundings all because of them, all because of her. I guess he really did owe Sweden a polite thank you.

It didn’t take long until the owner of the confident glides was now standing to his left. He too dropped his bag to the floor with and winded exhale, as if he had been running to catch up with the owner of the first footsteps. As the owner of the swift weightless glide bent down to grab something out of his bag he inadvertently brushed the man in the middle. Dragging him from the depths of his past, causing a large exhale to brew up from the very pit of his belly that he made sure to catch before it flew freely from his lips alerting his company of his discomfort. He wouldn’t and couldn’t let his emotions get the better of him especially while he was standing in between two of the most powerful men in his world. Turning to his right the Swede finally looked directly into his associates’ eyes, the two just exchanged a powerful nod no words at this point. The flexed stature belonged to none other than part owner of Sin City Wrestling Mr Mark Hot Stuff Ward. Before the two could exchange any words their attention was drawn to the man that was standing to their left. Their eyes now fell onto the other owner of Sin City Wrestling Mr Christian Underwood. It was Christian who broke the silence.

Christian: Well doesn’t this look cosy?

Before he could answer he was cut off by the loud booming voice of Mark Ward.

Mark: Derek, care to explain why you made me get on a flight and come all the way out to Sweden? Better yet care to enlighten me why you made me share a flight with him?

Mark pointed his right index finger at Christian who was pouting and acting innocently, pretending that he hadn’t just made Mark Ward’s life hell for the last few hours on the long haul flight from Vegas to Sweden. Derek choose to ignore the glances that Mark and Christian were sharing instead he took a step forward tracking off towards the road.

Derek: You called me…

Mark: That we did, but we didn’t expect to be flown to the other side of the world for a response?

Stuffing his hands deep into his pockets of his black jacket, Derek Thorne pulled out a cigarette and a lighter. Bringing the cigarette to his face he held it there in between closed lips, before lighting it. Flicking the lighter around in his right hand he pushed it back down into his pocket. Taking his time in answering Derek waited until he heard both Mark and Christian pick up their bags to follow him. Exhaling a cloud of smoke from his mouth Derek continued to walk forward.

Derek: You said you wanted me to find you some talent, well sometimes you have to get out of your comfort zone.

Turning back to look at them both over his shoulder the Swede could see the bewilderment dripping from the faces as they followed him.

Derek: I trust that you’re both willing for a great deal of discomfort? True talent doesn’t come painlessly.

Derek turned away from Mark and Christian to look forward at the mountains of Sweden. An anesthetised gaze crawled across his face as he knew he was leading both men into a world not so many were blessed to discover, let alone walk out with their lives.

To be continued...