"Now its youre turn, Frog Man" said Jack Frost menacingly, who was face to face with Kermit.

"Im gonna leave you like youre little friends there"

Frost was making Kermit step back, more and more, until he hit the wall of the bar.

"No where to run, no where to..."

SMASH!

Frost fell to the floor, with shards of broken glass on the back of his face. JE had snuk up behind and smashed a beer bottle over Frost's head.

"Took you long en...JESUS CHRIST, WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO YOU?"

JE's face was like a crimson mask. Somehow, Father John Savage had left a deep wound on his forehead that made him look like a darange maniac.

"Savage...gonna....KILL...HIM"

JE was nearly unconscious and could hardly put a sentence together. He was woosy and quickly sat down on one of the bar stools.

"Oh, crap. Come on, lets get you siting down. Foz, get Honeydew on the phone!"

Fonziani was getting up after the fight with Jack Frost with the rest of the MUPPETS, and proceded to dial Dr. Honeydew's number on Kermit's phone.

"Give me that, Hello Doc? Listen, get over here at once and bring with you some surgery tools."

Kermit hung up the phone and looked around his bar. Broken chairs, smashed bottles, bodies lying around, and his two opponents lying face down on the floor. And eaven worse, his new partner bleeding so much that he could barely stay awake.

"Come on, lets clean this place up." said Kermit to his troops.

"What should we do with these two boss?"

"Just throw them in the back alley or somethi..."

FLASH

In an instance, Father John Savage disapeared from sight, like he had done before in the fight.

"Where the hell did he go? How does he do that?" screamed Kermit.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been 20 minutes since the fight had ended and Dr. Hoenydew arrived at the bar.

"Ok, I can fix this, dont worry Miss" said Honeydew to Jess, who looked slightly angerd by being called "Miss"

"Gonz, I whant you to drive JE & Jess to the condo. Make sure he they get there safe."

"Ok boss."

"The rest of you, clean this place so no one knows there was a fight."

"Sure thing boss." said Fonziani.

Dr. Honeydew finished stiching JE's scar and tolled Kermit and Jess that he could go, but he should rest for a day or so.

Gonz helped JE in to the car and began to drive them to the condo. While in the car, JE tried to figure out what hapened to him and how did Savage make him bleed so much, but it hapened so fast that all he could remember his knocking Savage out and then cracking the beer bottle over Jack Frosts head.

They arrives at the condo and Gonz helped JE onto a sofa in the living room, leaving Jess to take care of him and giving her all the documents that Kermit had given JE.

To be continued...

The unmarked plane continues to fly high over

Man Less talk or more shock. MORE SHOCK


BZZZZTTTTT

Shadow& P.D: YOUCH

The two enemies look at each other then glare at their gap toothed tormentor.

Shadow: Listen friend I don't know how much you're being paid, I DO know that I will pay ten times as much to bury your entire family, every friend, every enemy, and everyone that owes you money. Hmm on second thought perhaps I'll let your enemies live and remind them that the pain they feel is directly because of you.

BZZZZZZZZTTTTTT

P.D: Look Tatoo unlike THAT asshole over there the only imaginative thing I'M considering is testing out if the Rocks old favorite catchphrase is possible or not.

Man: Less talk less talk or.

P.D&Shadow: WE KNOW!!!

P.D: More docks?

Shadow: No, NOT more DOCKS!

P.D grins as Shadow bristles at him using his competitors name.

P.D: Competition getting to you it's OBVIOUSLY more rocks

Shadow: No Cameron LOOK at the man. He's obviously a Raven fan it's more FLOCK.

P.D: Nope this guy could take a golf ball through a garden hose he OBVIOUSLY is going to say more CO....

BZZZZZZZZZZT

Shadow: Oh more SHOCK.

Man: Say Por Favor sir.

BZZZZZZZT

Shadow: He's almost the conversationalist that YOU are Cameron.

Cameron Jones ignores Shadow spits to the side and glares at the man before speaking.

P.D: So Mountie you going to tell us WHY we're up here?

Shadow: I thought you were calling him tattoo?

P.D: Yeah that was BEFORE he kept using that love toy of his. Now he just reminds me of the Mountie.

P.D. ponders his statement for a moment

P.D: Only gayer.

"tsk tsk tsk"

Shadow: Now Cameron using one's sexual preference as an insult is certainly beneath you. Why, you could always focus on his abject lack of dental hygiene for instance.

BZZZZZZZZT

Shadow: What? Was it the teeth thing?

P.D: See TOLD you he was gay. He didn't even get insulted when I suggested he loves cocks more than Col. Sanders.

BZZZZZZT

P.D: YEEEOUCH!!!! Ok so I'm going to quit talking about how I'm going to kick your ass now. But understand your ass IS in fact mine.

Shadow: Well put Cameron did you find that on the back of a Wheaties box?

P.D: Oh FUCK you Shadow. Don't think I forgot about you or buy your story for a minute.

Shadow sighs deeply before answering. There is no trace of malice or superiority in his voice, were he not so angry Cameron Jones may have realized that Shadow was speaking to him for the first time. Really speaking not talking down to him, not selling to him, not joking around with him, no head games. It would mark the first time P.D had heard Shadow speak earnestly.

Shadow: Cameron. I wasn't making up a story. I guess I also didn't finish telling you everything though. When I heard that your plane fell I wasn't shocked I'll admit to that. One of the reasons I loaded your vehicle with so much weaponry was to allow you a fair fight in the event of an attack. I was not counting on one of my trusted employees growing suicidal and betraying me to an old enemy.
P.D continues to stare out of the window, he'd rather be stomping in Shadows masked face but right now he has no choice but to listen to what he's CERTAIN will be lies.

Shadow: Francisco Alejandro Cortez

P.D:.......

Shadow looks over and notices no reaction from Plausible Deniability

Shadow: I'm not surprised you've not heard of him. He was well on the road to becoming the new Emperor of narcotics until he crossed paths with me.

P.D: So you cut off the guys business and he wanted blood. You screwed him over and he wanted a piece of your ass IMAGINE THAT!

Shadow: I killed him.

P.D wants desperately to be surprised but what really bothers him is the simple fact that he is NOT surprised. He heard about how Shadow worked, he even knew that the swords on his desk were not ornaments, but hearing Shadow so callously mention taking a life should have shaken him just a little. Instead all he felt was........

Shadow: Confirmation, that was where I ran into trouble I suppose. Taking out Cortex put quite a strain on the market, it also left the distinct possibility, well why be nice the PROBABILITY of civil war. I was supposed to take his spot in the narcotics hierarchy but I refused.

P.D snorts.

Shadow: Don't get me wrong Cameron it wasn't out of some misplaced sense of honor, if I SAW profit in drug sales I would be more than happy to have fifth graders sell it to their Grandmothers in order to pay for their class trip to Six Flags over WHEREVER. It was simply that I always viewed the drug world as too haphazard to yield any long-term growth. Someone always wanting to shoot you: an underling always skimming from you, losing perfectly capable employees who break the first rule of the crack commandments. I told them I would NOT lead them. If they chose to have a civil war then their blood would not be on my hands.

P.D: Let me guess. They didn't see things your way.

Shadow: Not at all. They had their little war, they had their victor, the victor had his position usurped and the cycle went on and on.

P.D: SO who was left to want revenge on you?

Shadow: Well as you know I rarely pass up a chance for profit. When I saw them at constant war and knew that it would NEVER stop, I decided that selling them weapons would become the viable long-term source of income that the country truly had to offer. Long story short I stepped on some toes.

P.D: YOU Nooooooooo.

Shadow: An arms dealer small time but rather comfortable. It was a niche market and he had it on lock.

P.D: Talking street now Shads?

Shadow: I wasn't always rich, and only my friends call me Shads. It wasn't difficult to take over his fledgling business, my weapons were larger, more powerful, cheaper, and shinier.

P.D: Shinier?

Shadow: Diamond encrusted clips, you'd be surprised what people pay for. At any rate that man is the one that shot down your plane. I've been searching for him but he went deep into hiding when he found out that he did not kill me.

P.D: Surprised you didn't use every one of your resources to track him down and make an example of him.

Shadow: Why, because he tried to kill me? See Cameron for you getting ambushed chained onto a metal table on an airplane flying to who knows where while a gap toothed man speaks broken English while he shocks you with a cattle prod is a traumatic experience. For ME, it's just Tuesday.

BZZZZZZZZZTTTT

Shadow: OWWW I hate Tuesdays.

P.D: Shadow you're stalling.

Shadow sighs DEEPLY before answering.

Shadow: Somehow I really hoped you'd let me get away with that. As I said before we did not find your body in the wreckage. Zack, Kim when we found them there was not much time, and there was VERY little we could do besides make them comfortable. Kim had severe burns at the time, her hands were bloody from climbing the side of the mountain with Zack on her back. She spent her last energy fighting off a pack of wild dogs, heh I would have loved to see her in action. After the crash, climbing the mountain with a broken leg, losing an obscene amount of blood yet she stood bravely facing off the monsters that wished to steal away the reason WHY she fought so hard. She killed 3 by the time I arrived, but they were still coming, led by hunger and who knows perhaps even a more evil force. All she could do was use he body as a shield. It was a mother's final act, she had protected her child long enough for my forces to move in. When we reached her all she could say was.

Shadow pauses for what seems an eternity

"All she could say was I love you Cam, I always knew you'd be late to your own funeral. Who ever thought that you'd be late to mine?" "Told you I'd protect him til I died. She smiled when she said that, then her eyes turned dull and she was gone.

P.D can barely speak he had put a picture to Shadows words. In his mind and in his heart he had seen his wife's final moments. He saw her protecting her family the VERY thing that he had failed to do. In his mind Cameron Jones was no longer on the plane he could no longer feel the cattle prod, he felt pain sure in fact the absolute worst pain he had ever felt. This whole trip was supposed to be about making his families life better, but all it did was cost his wife her life. He thought back.

Cameron: Look Kim, Shadow can find the cure in fact he found a lead. I HAVE to take this chance. I HAVE to cu.....

Cameron Jones swallows the last word

Kim: CURE CAMERON? Is THAT what you were going to say? You want to FIX Zack? You want to play GOD NOW!!!! Listen to you Cameron this isn't the man I married. You start hanging around Shadow and all of the sudden you think you can just wave a wand or money and FIX things. I love Zack Cam I LOVE our son. He isn't a burden don't tell me you think he's a burden now.

Cameron: Kim KIM!

P.D buries his head in his face.

Cameron: Of course I don't think that he's a burden. I just.

Kim: Say it.

Cameron: I just want to give him a chance. I just want to give him a fair chance. That isn't too much to ask is it?

Kim: Baby that boys father is the strongest man in the WORLD! The man I love is the strongest in the world. Him, me, we couldn't ASK for a more fair chance.

Cameron: Strong? Me? What good is this so called strength? I couldn't even pass it on to my son. I couldn't give YOU a healthy child. We can't protect him forever.

Kim: But we CAN protect him until the day we die. I WILL protect him until the day I die.

Cameron was shaken by her words.

Kim: Cameron, I'll admit that I don't like this. I'll support you though, if Zack can have a chance to live on his own and stand on his own feet I'm all for it.

Cameron: You mean you're still behind me?

Kim: Tiger, I'm in front of you.

IWILL protect him until the day I die!

Cameron swallows hard. VERY hard

P.D: What about Zack?

Shadow lays quietly.

IWILL protect him until the day I die!

P.D: Shadow???

The man who to this point had been torturing them even sits quietly. Even through broken English and Shadows mask he can tell what is about to happen

IWILL protect him until the day I die!

Shadow:.....

P.D: SHADOW!

Fear and grief are so clear in Cameron Jones' voice. It's the fear and grief of a person that sees the number of a hospital on their caller ID while their Mother is sick. You don't want to take the call but you know it won't change the message, you know it wont change the story. All you really want is for them to quit trying to protect your feeling and just TELL you so maybe just MAYBE you can find the strength to cry.

IWILL protect him until the day I die!

When P.D speaks again his voice shakes so much and his throat is so tight he can barely breathe much less choke out the words.

P.D: shadow.

Zack broke his neck during the crash. He was dead before your wife even wrapped him to her back.

No words.












What would one even say







What COULD one even say?








Cameron says the only thing that a man can say when he finds out that his entire world has just been taken away. Taken away for revenge against someone else. Caught in the crossfire a simple statistic a simple blurb on CNN. Cameron utters the only word the only words the only phrase that fits.

IWILL protect him until the day I die!


Cameron "Plausible Deniability" Jones says nothing. He allows his tears to speak for him.

JUST THEN

The plane begins to jerk and lose altitude RAPIDLY

Shadow: Well, Tatoo, or Mountie whatever it is we've decided to call you, you may not feel like saying who hired you but whomever it may be has just abandoned you to insure our demise.

The man runs to the front of the plane to check on the pilot but there IS no pilot. He barely avoids being sucked out of the plane before he can close the door and watch as the pilot floats gracefully to the ground on his and sadly the ONLY parachute.

Man: NO CHUTE! NO PILOT! NO CHUTE! NO PILOT!

The man runs frantically repeating the phrase.

Man: NO CHUTE! NO PILOT! NO CHUTE! NO PILOT!

Shadow rolls his eyes beneath his mask

Man: NO CHUTE! NO PILOT! NO CHUTE! NO PILOT

Shadow: No SH... errr.... CHUTE! Untie us and PERHAPS we can land this thing.

The man unties P.D and Shadow, the masked man springs up and races for the controls while Cameron Jones continues to lay on the table. Maybe dying this way can allow him to see them again.

IWILL protect him until the day I die!

Shadow coolly presses the control to no effect. He then FRANTICALLY presses the controls to no effect.

"Do you hear me baby?"

P.D: Kim?

I said I would protect him until I died, you would to I know that. Just because he's gone though does NOT mean that you get to die. Now GET THE HELL OUT OF BED

Shadow pops back in

Shadow: No good this thing is going down unless we figure a way to get it airborne and the pilot made SURE that wouldn't happen

Cameron thinks to himself that it only FIGURES that he would decide he WANTED to live just in time to die.
P.D: SO WHAT DO WE DO!

But before Shadow could answer a slim metallic arrow pierced the plane and the vehicle was transformed to a ball of fire. NO ONE could have survived the attack














But two people did

Yu and AI held their masters arm tightly as they appeared safely in a field of grass.

The man straightened his tie and smiled at the two half demonic twins.


They did not smile back, this is because the man smiling at them is not WAS not their master, but he knew all about them.

"Hello Ladies"

Stan Deville answered, Shadow dismissed the twins but they would have no part of leaving their master to THIS creature.

"Ok ok I can tell when I'm not welcome. You save a mans life and is he grateful you never know who your friends are eh?"

Shadow: Considering seeing YOU here no, I suppose you don't.

"Anyway I guess you want to speak to Mr. Clean again fine by me."

In a flash Stan Deville is gone and Cameron Jones is back, in just under a weeks time Shadow had learned that one of his worst enemies IS in fact the Anti-Christ and one of his former friends apparently is the Devil. And people thought that HE had things to hide.

P.D: Ok so Yu & Ai teleport here I thought you just hung out with them for the sushi.
Shadow: This explains how you survived before? So do you share all memories?

P.D: I guess so, but who knows he IS the prince of lies and all you know.

Shadow: Well not THIS realities prince of lies at least that's what I hear.

P.D: Reality is what you make it and the winners make the rules. So THAT truth is yet to be decided. Still what say we just keep a wrap on all this new found information?

Shadow: Of course. I'm certain that others would find it shocking.

BZZZZZTKeeeRRRXZAAAAAAAAP

"Why did I have to say shocking?" Shadows words are only barely heard over the next zap that brings him to the ground with a thud. Cameron Jones instinctively ducks to avoid being the next to go down.

"Senor Jones?"

The olive skinned woman holding the tazer that took out Shadow steps from behind a hut. Cameron recognizes her from just before his last match.

P.D: Maria????

I will protect him until the day I die

Number one rule about the Nursing Home? NEVER TALK ABOU THE NURSING HOME *SLAP!

Number two rule is to never give up on a chase and they weren't going to stop with Dick Flehr. You see, they were tracking him in a white van when they arrived in the arena and were now stalking him in the arena. Dick and Barn are about to enter their dressing room when three big men come out looking for trouble.

NHA: "Time to go back, the both of you!"

Flehr: "WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! I WAS LOOKING FOR A FIGHT AND I GOT A FIGHT!"

Barn: "This is going to be interesting..."

Flehr: "WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! SAVAGE, FOLEY, STING, LOD, DEMOLITION, BUSH, GIBSON, KABEER GBAJA-BIAMILA! I DON'T CARE, LET'S DANCE WITH THE NATCHA BOY AND BARN WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

I will spare you the details of the fight but it was a lot of spinebusters and chest chops followed by "WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEE"s. It is a gluttony of men falling down and Barn and Flehr are loving every moment. They even had a "Rush Hour" moment and double teamed on guy. Flehr hit him with a chop, followed by the spinebuster from Barn, and then the Figure Fool Leg Lock from Flehr. Both men are enjoying the moment but are exhausted and are drenching in sweat (and something else for Flehr...ewwwww). And to make things worse, the biggest, baddest Nursing Home Assistant is coming out. He is 7 feet tall and weights well over 500 pounds or so it seems leading Flehr to blurt out...

Flehr: "BIG SHOW BIG SHOW! YOU LUMBERING APE! TRYING TO STEAL MY CHOPS WITH YOUR SLAPS? COME HERE TO GET A CHOP FEST ON YOU BIG APE!"

The NHA shrugs off the comments and lumbers over. Barn tries the first attack, going for a spinebuster but only blows out his back, sending him down for the count with a huge yelp. The giant laughs as Flehr hits him with a chop to have the man stand tall, unmoved like a great red wood.

Flehr: "WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.....no?"

The NHA picks Flehr up and throws him to the wall. Dick hits his head on the way down, creating a huge dent and knocking him out. The NHA laughs as he slowly moves over to Flehr, about to take him back to the nursing home. Barn his helpless on the ground in immense pain.

Barn: "Nooooooooo....."

"O Canada..."

The Giant stops to hear the signing followed by an acoustic guitar.

"Our home and native land. True patriot love in all our sons command..."

It is none other than Kojack himself who providing the music, standing tall as he bathes in this rich anthem.

Kojack: "O CANADA We stand on guard...........FOR THEEEE!!!!!"

And with those last words the guitar comes crashing down onto the NHA's head, wood scattering everywhere. Kojack jumps in the air in celebration as the man goes down.

Kojack: "WHOOOOOOOO! I LOVE THAT ANTHEM!"

Barn is shocked at this move and has finally gotten himself up. He is still in pain but he hobbles over to Kojack.

Barn: "Why did you do this?"

Kojack: "That's how I always sing the anthem. And besides, a true Canadian always wants to beat up old people, we only give them one holiday unlike you Americans who give them two!

Barn: "I see..."

Kojack: "Well nothing washes down a good anthem like a good beer, Canadian of course. Well I'm off, take care of that old guy will ya?"

"YOU BETTER TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF BROTHER! CAUSE THE BULKSTER IS COMING AFTER YOU!"

Both men turn around to see Flehr up but now is the Hulkster. It seems that the hit to the head made him become Hulk Hogan but he calls himself...

"BULK HOGANE IS GOING TO BEAT YOU UP WITH THESE PYTHONS AND YOU BETTER TAKE YOUR VITAMINS AND SAY YOUR PRAYERS...THE REAL AMERICAN IS HERE!"

Barn: "Oh God...."

Hogane walks over to the two men to spot the big NHA on the ground.

Hogane: "ANDRE! ANDRE! I'M GOING TO BEAT YOU!"

Then Hogane bounces off imaginary ropes and delivers and gingerly leg drop, hurting himself mostly on the landing. He is now writhing in pain while yelling BROTHER BROTHER BROTHER!!

Kojack: "So he finally accepted being the Brother man..."

Barn: "Oh God..."

FADE

"Bulk" is now trying to stand up, but his hip is very sore. He's limping around posing. He looks over at Barn and instead of seeing Barn...

"Bulk": Jimmy Hart! My vitamins... I need my vitamins...

Barn stands there in disbelief. He's just gotten used to playing the role of the enforcer and now Flehr wants him to be Jimmy Hart???

Barn: Dick! Snap out of it! You are not Bulk Hogane!

Bulk: WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! Listen here Brother! The largest arms in the world are going to come down on Andre over there!

Barn: For god's sake... Ok "Bulk", let's get out of here for now ok?

Bulk: No way Brother! I've got to profile and style! WHATCHA GONNA DO WHEN BULKAMANIA RUNS WILD ALL OVER YOU!

NHA: Alright dude. Whatever. I don't get paid enough for this crap.

Nursing his wounds, the NHA hobbles off leaving "Bulk" and "Jimmy" standing there.

Barn: Listen. I don't care who you think you are, or what persona you come out to the ring with. Right now, you got a big knot on your head and you need to be looked over.

Barn escourts "Hogane" out of the commons to the back. They make their way to the dressing room. Barn is looking for his key. As they are searching for the right key, Dick hears music going off in the arena... it's "Real American"!

Barn: You know Dick, I... Dick? Dick?

Barn looks around and doesn't see Dick. Apparently he's decided he's heard his music and has gone off to greet his public...

When it comes crashing down and it hurts inside
I gotta be a man, it don't help to hide
Well if you hurt my friends then you hurt my pride.
I gotta be a man, I can't stay and hide

"Bulk Hogane" walks through the entrance and the crowd erupts.

I am a real American! Fight for the rights of every man!
I am a real American! Fight for what's right! Fight for your life

"Bulk" is now strolling down the ramp and is cupping his hands to his ears ala Hogan.

He enters the ring as the theme continues and he grabs a mic.

Crowd: HOGANE HOGANE HOGANE HOGANE!

Bulk grabs his shirt and for the life of him tries to rip it. He puts down the mic and continues trying to rip his shirt, but he gives up in frustration.

"Bulk": NOW I DON'T KNOW IF YOU BULKAMANIACS SAW THAT, BUT ANDRE CAME TO ATTACK ME AND I DELIVERED THE LEG DROP OF DOOM BROTHER! WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

I honestly don't know who's more confused at this point. Flehr thinks he's "Bulk Hogane", yet continues to WHEEEEEEEEEE. The crowd on the other hand is seeing Flehr act like Hogan and WHEEEEEEEEEE. If I'd have to guess who's more confused, as the writer of this, I'd have to say me. Afterall, there's a little Flehr in me... much like there's a little Flehr in you... good or bad, you decide. But I digress, let's move on.

As we move our attention to the tron, there is an image of Kojak now smiling ear to ear, and he's slow clapping.

Kojak: You see folks... do you not now understand why Canadians are superior? Your hero is an aging mental case who at a very whim can change who he believes he is. With a mere suggestion, I have him believing he's Hogan. Are you getting it now Roger? ARE YOU? I HAVE THE MENTAL EDGE OVER YOU! MY MIND GAMES WILL HAVE YOU EATING OUT OF THE PALMS OF MY HANDS IN THIS MATCH. DO YOU HONESTLY THINK A MENTAL CASE LIKE YOU HAS ANY CHANCE WHATSOEVER AGAINST A SUPERIOR CANADIAN ATHLETE? THE ANSWER IS NO WAY IN HELL!

Kojak regains his composure.

Kojak: Now I want everyone to look at this poor pathetic man in the ring. He's got no chance against me. Hey... Bulk... "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!"

Kojak begins laughing and fades off of the tron. In the ring, there stands Dick who's got a very puzzled look on his face. He looks left, then looks right, then gets a crazed look on his face...

"Bulk": You can't do this! GET BACK HERE... *voice getting deeper and gargled* Get back where the Nacho Man Dandy Ravage can see you brother!

**Backstage**

Barn is still walking around trying to figure out where Dick went, then he looks on a screen he's just found and there's Dick in the ring...

Nacho Man: WHEN I FACE OFF WITH YOU AT THE PPV, I'M GOING TO DROP MY ELBOW RIGHT THROUGH YOUR HEART BROTHER! WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Barn is just looking at what he's seeing in disbelief. He heads back to his lockeroom and simply shuts himself in...

**fade**

The streets of Madrid are once again wet. The storm clouds act like a canopy draped in front of the moon, its glow fighting a losing battle to brighten the night. At least it's raining. Seems proper. See, that ball of cheese in the sky isn't the only light that's been muffled. There's a beautiful girl in some morgue thanks to some scum bag. So here I am, walking the same stone streets as last night with the same destination in mind; a nightclub named the Toro Rojo.

It's an eerie sense of deja vu, cobblestones reflecting the street lights courtesy of a fresh rain and the notion I'm going back to the same place, yet also being aware of the circumstances being so very different than one night earlier. Usually our tour stops are full of light-hearted moments. The only violence tends to be that which we inflict upon each other. And yet reality has hit me in the face like a Spanish Inquisition this time. Poor Maritza. I don't even know her last name, yet I'll never forget the sound of her voice.

I'm not even sure why I've gotten myself mixed up in this situation. I've always been more of an Encyclopedia Brown than a Sherlock Holmes. Maybe it's a chance to try and obtain some sort of subconscious redemption for wrongs done. Or perhaps it's an opportunity to keep myself close to my opponent at Retribution. Better to be in tip-top shape than risk a brutal brawl in some dark alley. The authorities can take care of the policework while DeadZone and myself do some casual snooping. What could the two of us really figure out anyways?

I don't need the fast-food landmark to know where the spot is this time. As I get closer I hear music playing. That's a good sign. From what DZ told me, the local music community was having a tribute for the murdered songstress tonight starting at 9:00, the time she was scheduled to play. It's now 9:10. DeadZone should be inside by now.

The room is filled with a mixture of people tonight. Some look to be average bar patrons, whereas others are clearly here in rememberence of Maritza. A group of people dressed in black appear to be her family. They're sitting in a corner table surrounded by a number of bouquets of flowers. It seems as though there is only one blossom they want at the table and she's never coming back. It's a sad sight. A deep breath and a gulp. Good to go again.

On the same small stage she sang her set the night before, there is a microphone stand with her picture in front of it and some single red roses placed at its base. Next to it a man with a Spanish Guitar is accompanied by the horn player from Maritza's band and a percussionest. Interestingly enough it is not the drummer from last night. The news report said he was related to her. He's probably with the family. On second look, he's absent at their table too. Strange, but it's always hard to say how grief is going to affect people. Now where's...

DeadZone: Looking for someone?

"Apparently I wasn't the only one."

DeadZone: Let's grab a seat and a few cold ones...

"Works for me."

The two of us find a table in the back. It's a good spot, as the back part of the nightclub is raised a foot higher than the rest of the floor. We can hear the music while we talk in privacy, but more importantly, the two of us can see the entire room. Quite a few dolls gracing the establishment tonight. But that's not why we're here.

"Two beers, two shots...keep em coming."

DeadZone: My kind of order.

"So, let's get down to business, shall we?"

DeadZone: Sounds good. I asked around this entire afternoon, but all I could find out is that the police have no real suspects.

"You said you spoke to her around closing time. Anything suspicious when you think back to the conversation?"

DeadZone: No. She was leaving with her cousin Tomas, the band's drummer.

"I noticed he isn't here tonight."

DeadZone: You're not the only one. But my understanding is he had an alibi last night. Some dame he used to date said he was with her. The story goes that Tomas and Maritza walked to this floozy's apartment, then said goodbye. The deceased was supposedly going to meet some new boyfriend.

"Can't exactly stuff a turkey with that amount of information."

DeadZone: Honestly, I think the kid's story is full of holes. When I spoke with Maritza she was very kind...and very flirtatious. I'm no Beaver Cleaver. I know when a woman is interested. A girl with a boyfriend doesn't act that way.

"This is 2006, pal."

DeadZone: Your point?

"The "fairer sex" can be full of scandal."

DeadZone: What's new? I'm telling you that *IF* she was running off to some fella later in the evening, why would she ask to talk to me again? I'm tellin ya, the chemistry was like Hepburn and Tracy last night.

"So you think Tomas might know more than he's revealing?"

DeadZone: I'm certain of it.

"Then we have a few ways to go. If he didn't go to the ex-girlfriend's place, she must know smething too. I think we have ourselves a plan."

DeadZone: What are you thinking?

"Let's get that second round of tall ones first."

So far this guy was seeming like an allright character. He appreciated a good beer, carried Lucky Strikes, and was genuinely interested in helping the murdered girl out. I still wasn't sure I could trust him though. After all, ask any TCW fan and they'd tell you DZ was a heel, but mainly because he wasn't afraid to play dirty. Things like political correctness or modern conventions like Miranda rights didn't matter to a man like Stephen Hawthorne. He'd gladly gouge out your eyes for a win...or for a piece of information. In some ways, I can't help but respect the guy. After all, I'm no patron saint between the bells. As long as he doesn't cross me, we should be fine. Otherwise they may be pulling another body out of the river; mine or his. The drinks come. So does glossy reality of inebriation.

DeadZone: So the plan?

"You see what you can find out about the cousin. I'll do some looking into the broad who said she was with him last night. We'll meet again tommorrow and talk about our findings over a steak and potato."

DeadZone: I'll toast to that!

-----

(The morning sun cast its shine over the streets of Madrid. Last night's rain clouds have moved on to some other province. The chatter of the streets mixes with the singing of birds on a typical Wednesday morning. A trenchcoated man hurried down streets he was becoming all too familiar with. DeadZone paused for a moment, looking out at the sun-kissed surface of the Manares River. He would be happy when Retribution was over. Not just from the standpoint that he might be the IC/TC Champion, but also from the perspective that this stop had become all too personal. It wasn't every show an innocent person lost his or her life.)

DeadZone: Where is this place...

(DZ gritted his teeth. He'd been looking for the proper cross street, Plazo del Sol, for the last thirty minutes. How did Highone land the interrogation with the dame? Lucky bastard. Speaking Spanish would have been a useful skill right now, but as far as he was concerned, Hispanic people weren't very prevalent in modern day America and he'd never seen the need to learn it. It wasn't as if there were Spanish television and radio outlets. The championship contender found himself just mumbling the address to passers by, hoping one might understand. As luck would have it, one did, and he was kind enough to point out the easiest way to get to DeadZone's desired destination. Ten minutes hard pace later he was in front of the structure he'd been informed was Tomas' apartment building.)

DeadZone: Finally...

(The multi-tenant housing was certainly respectable. The walls were white with traditional Spanish tiling on the roof. A small fountain echoed throughout the courtyard. The smell of lemons from a nearby tree filled the air. According to informaton DeadZone had obtained, Tomas lived on the second floor. It was time to talk to the young drummer without the restrictions of a lawman. If he didn't know anything, the kid would be fine. But, if Martiza's cousin had any inkling as to the circumstances surrounding her death, God help him. For that particular musical set, Hawthorne would be the percussionest; Tomas would be the drumkit.)

-----

The girl's abode was easy to find. Turns out she's got lots of friends with big mouths. If I'd told 'em I was some long lost cousin, they might have looked at me funny, but flex some muscles and bring out the billfold, and it's amazing what you can learn in a short period of time. Her name is Isa and she's not home. The physical description was shakey, but the address was precise. I'm standing inside of the front door, and yet something tells me I shouldn't be here. And then it hits me...the lamp that is.

White is turning to gray. Black now. I like a good nap, but only when it's self-inflicted. Should've kept my guard up. How did someone get the drop on me? I hope I get a chance to find out...

...the hum of a refrigerator...

Isa: Wake up!!!

My face is wet. Something tight around my wrists. Feels like rope. I open my eyes and see something unexpected. No thug sits before me, just a young girl. Her hair is Godiva brown. Her skin is caramel. I wonder if her filling tastes as sweet. Doesn't seem so based on the chef's knife in her hand. Suddenly it's my insides I'm worried about.

Isa: Who are you?

"Look, we can talk, but before anything....get that knife out of my face."

Isa: You're in no position to be calling the shots.

"I'm here because I have some questions about Maritza. No malcontent, just questions. Now take that stinkin blade and point it somewhere other than my mug!"

Isa: And if I don't?

"Then someone is going to get hurt and I don't necessarily mean me..."

I don't hit broads. It's never been my style. Sure, there have been a few I've wanted to plant a five-knuckle kiss on; Lita when she double-crossed the RoXoRz, Valentina when she meddled in mens' business. Those are the past and I never laid a finger on either. Presently, a Ginsu pointed at my throat tells me the third time might be a charm.

Isa: I'll be giving the orders.

She lowers the knife. A bumpy start to our conversations takes a turn for the better. This girl is hot. Her chromosomes should probably be the furthest thing from my mind, but I'm just a simple man. She's not too thin, a thickness to her waist and thighs that is in perfect moderation with her ample bustline. It sure would be better if she was tied up though.

"I'm not with the police. I'm not even a friend of the dead girl. I'm just a guy who heard her sing..."

Isa: Then what business is it of your's? Why are you here?

"Why don't you cut these ropes and we can talk like civilized people. I'm not going to hurt you. I just have a few questions..."

Isa: I should just call the police.

I tell her she should. She declines. It gives me a sniff as to her overall innocence in the world. Seems like a girl with something to hide in regards to a criminal investigation might not be too keen on having the coppers involved unless absolutely necessary. I play the boys-in-blue card again. She agrees to undo the cord around my wrists. My bluff works. Valerie Stern probably wouldn't be too keen on her IC/TC Champ getting charged with breaking and entering, or whatever the translation is here in Spain. I stand up.

Isa: Now leave...

"I can't do that."

Isa: Why not? What do you want to know?

"You know why I'm here. I just want answers. The story goes Tomas came here. The two of you are the only ones who know the truth. Out there, a girl's mother sits without a daughter. She needs to know the same thing you do."

Isa: N-...no...I don't have to tell you anything. Leave right now!

"It's better you tell me than a judge We don't have to get the police involved. I just want the facts, see? Start singing your tune before you're a caged bird..."

Our eyes lock. Maybe it's my baby blues revealing good intentions, or perhaps it's the moment, but she takes a step forward. We're inches away from each other. It's early September, but the summer heat still burns in the space between us. She presses her lips against mine. The kiss is almost painful, but pleasure ultimately overides any other sensation. We tear at each others' clothes as we do a sinful dance towards her bedroom. I wonder to myself if DeadZone is having as much luck with his investigation into Tomas. A smile crosses my face at the thought. In some ways I hope so, but in others...such as the carnal kind...I certainly hope not.

Isa undoes my belt. European women tend to be more agressive than American women. At the moment, I'm not complaining in any way. Things progress as you expect they might. Midway through, I pause, almost feeling cheapened. Am I prostituting myself out for information? My moral compromise is quickly put to rest courtesy of the Spanish girl's lucious lips working their magic.

Forty minutes later we're laying next to each other under Isa's white linen sheets. They're less pure than they were an hour ago. I feel her breasts against my ribcage as she curls to my left. She kisses my ear. Now is the moment...

"Tell me what happened the other night. You have nothing to worry about. I can protect you, baby."

Isa: Really?

"What do you have to be afraid of?"

Isa: I don't want to end up in the water...

"I won't let it happen. You can trust me."

She breaks into tears. First the sniffling kind, then some straight up bawling. Five minutes later the waterworks have subsided. She lights up a smoke. A few puffs pass and she's calmed back down. Broads. Sometimes all they need is a good cry and it's like nothing ever happened. She looks back into my eyes. Isa then looks over my muscular body, a scarred sculpture reading like a roadmap of my past.

Isa: Okay...promise to look out for me?

"You tell me what happened and I'll take care of all your problems."

Isa: He'll kill me if he finds out I told you.

"Who?"

(Forty minutes of passion had led up to this moment, an obviously troubled looking, tear stained Isa speaking to Highone about Tomas, his supposed "Gal" and the circumstances of Maritza's death. Now sitting up in bed, Highone clad in a pair of black boxers, Isa without any clothes, covered up by the bed sheets, Isa began to speak.)

Isa: H-He.....He told me.....that she had it coming....and that he was right to kill her when he did.....

Highone: Wait.....what? You mean....You mean the cousin? Tomas?

Isa: Y-Yes....

(Highone pretty much felt this coming for a bit, but it still shocked him as Isa's answer sunk into him. It had been rather strange that Tomas was conspicuously absent for Maritza's tribute concert, and this pretty much showed why. Consoling the now sobbing Isa with his hands on hers gently, Highone continued to speak)

Highone: Tell me all you know.....I swear on my life no one's gonna hurt you once you do....

Isa: (Nods shakily, then speaks) I.....I'll tell you everything....everything that Tomas told me, that is....
************************************************************************
(The night of the murder. 1:30 AM. Roughly an hour after DeadZone had talked to Maritza and left the bar. In slow motion, we see Maritza heading down a cobble stone road, smiling and laughing angelically (without any sound, other then ominous music playing in the back round) as she walks along side Tomas, who is also laughing. The two were obviously in the middle of some sort of conversation, perhaps a joke, who really knew? As Maritza's laughter subsided and turned to a smile, Tomas' face turned somewhat serious as he and his cousin headed around a corner into a darkened like alley.)

"He.....He told me he took her.....into an alley way......said it was going to be a short cut to his house.....He....He didn't tell her though that two other men would be waiting for them in the alley...."

(Tomas and Maritza continue on, side by side, through this alley, being shadowed by two men, their features obscured by the darkness, as they do. Maritza, unfortunately, is unaware of the presence of these two men, though Tomas is and, through eye and hand gestures, he motions for the two men to strike at her.)

"The way they killed her.....it was so gruesome....I.....I thought I may be sick.....he told me that one man grabbed her by the arms....and another one.....Oh.....Oh God...."

"Its ok babe....It's ok.....take your time....."

(Slowly, the first man grabbed a now surprised Maritza's arms and held her at bay as the second man brandished a knife and held it up. As the frightened Maritza looked to her cousin for help, Tomas merely stepped back and spoke)

Tomas: (His voice echoed and low) Sorry Mar....but It must be done....you know too much.....

(Tomas's face was one of slight apprehension, sorrow, though overall relief that whatever Maritza knew, she would never tell as we hear the sound of slicing and stabbing, as well as Maritza's futile and horrified screams.)

"He told me he came to my place about 20 minutes after it happened....."
************************************************************************
Highone: And.....You didn't notify her family or the police about any of this?

Isa: I.....I wanted too....but he told me if I did....my family and me would be dead before the day was over...... (A pause as she breaks down further and speaks, though sobs and tears) I don't want my family to die for something I told.....

(Highone's somewhat disgust at her slowly melted into pity and sorry, and slowly, he moved closer to her and held her to his chest in a hug)

Highone: It'll be all right.....It'll all be all right....No one's gonna hurt a hair on your head....I promise.....I promise....
************************************************************************
DeadZone: (V.O) So you're saying that cousin of hers did the deed eh?

(Highone and DeadZone were again walking back to the abode of one Tomas Negron, the cousin of Maritza. DeadZone had no success the day before when he went to the place, as, according to the land lord, Tomas was out for the day, arranging funeral plans with Maritza's family. However, a few sources around town claimed he was at home today, so, with the information Highone and DeadZone now had, they figured, why not pay Mr. Drummer a little visit?)

Highone: That I am....Isa told me all about it....

DeadZone: Isa? You mean the dame Tomas was supposedly with the night of the murder?

Highone: The very same....

DeadZone: How'd you manage to get all of it out of her huh?

Highone: (A pause, he smiles knowingly) I can be very convincing when I try hard enough....

DeadZone: (Not clued in to what Highone is implying) Whatever the case, let's get to this palooka and bring some justice to Maritza, huh?

(The two gentlemen finally headed up to the second floor of the building, as DeadZone had done the day before. Heading to his door slowly, DeadZone went straight up to it and knocked sharply three times. 5 seconds, then 10 seconds, then 15 seconds....no answer.)

Highone: Don't tell me the guy's out again....

DeadZone: All of those people we asked couldn't be mistaken, right?

Highone: I suppose not....knock again.....

(DeadZone shrugged and knocked again three times. Finally, the door was heard unlocking, and it slowly swung open to reveal an in the midst of shaving Tomas Negron, clad in jeans and a white t-shirt, his hair wet from an apparent shower.)

Tomas: (A hint of irritation to his voice) May I....help you two gentlemen?

DeadZone: (To the point) You sure can fella! We know all abou....

Highone: (Raises a hand for calm, then slowly speaks) You're cousin was Maritza.....right?

Tomas: (A pause, he nods and sighs) Si.....She was....a real fine girl....it's a shame some heartless fiend killed her eh?

Highone: That's uh.....Kinda why we're here actually...

Tomas: Kind of? (Raises a suspicious brow) You two police officers or something?

DeadZone: No....We're wrestlers....

Tomas: (An incredulous pause) Wrestlers? You're wrestlers?

DeadZone: Can we cut the chit-chat and ask you a few questions?

(Tomas hesitantly nodded, then slowly backed up and allowed his two questioners inside.)

Tomas: Keep this quick If you can, I have an appointment to attend to in a bit...

Highone: Fair enough....I'll be blunt then....your gal Isa....told me everything....

Tomas: Everything?

Highone: How you killed Maritza and had her tossed into the River punk....

Tomas: (A pause, he slowly sighs) *She* said that?

DeadZone: That she did buster....

Tomas: (Frowns and slowly speaks) I knew that bitch would cause trouble....

Highone/DeadZone: Trouble?

Tomas: Yeah.....I went to her place to spend the night, like the reports said....what they don't say though is the fact that she and I got into an argument....

Highone: Argument huh?

Tomas: Si.....I had seen her flirting with some tourist a few days ago.....I called her out on it, and she decided to play all innocent.....I told her I had proof....and we got into a big verbal argument.....I knew if I stayed there, I was gonna do something I regretted....so I left and told her I wouldn't speak to her until she told the truth.....and she shot back that if I was gonna be stubborn and not believe me....she'd "Cause a lot of trouble"......I figured maybe she'd set my drum kit on fire or something...but to accuse me of murdering Mar?

(DeadZone and Highone both slowly looked at each other, then at Tomas. The story *seemed* to fit, an angry girlfriend trying to get her guy in trouble to get back at him for an argument, though at the same time, to Highone anyway, Isa didn't seem like the type to make up such an elaborate story.)

Highone: I don't believe a word of that....

Tomas: Oh really?

Highone: Yeah really....DeadZone....use his phone and call the cops, we're getting this guy brought to justice like we both said we would....

DeadZone: You don't need to tell me twice.....

(DeadZone headed for the nearby phone when, suddenly, Tomas reached into his jean pocket and produced a simple, though ominous looking handgun.)

Tomas: Touch that phone....and you're dead.....

(To Be Continued...)

"Is he dead?"

Drakus tries not to wince as Don Gonzalo applies another of his noxious salves to one of the many ugly bruises on the wrestler's body, many of them new. Pryce shakes his head, still rather amazed that his client returned in one piece after foolishly confronting Darkness. Then again, the former world champion may have been provoked by the photograph Pryce had provided, knowing full well its possible effects.

Pryce: "No. He's merely comatose."

Drakus: "Then let's finish it."

He begins to stand. Don Gonzalo puts a hand on Drakus' shoulder in an attempt to discourage him. But it's the sudden coughing jag that keeps Drakus from leaving the hotel bed. Drakus practically doubles over. His legs lose their strength, and the jagged pain in his chest is back. Finally, the coughing begins to subside. Drakus wipes his mouth, leaving a streak of blood on the back of his hand.

Pryce: "Perhaps not."

Drakus lies back and allows Gonzalo to continue his strange ministrations.

Drakus: "Who was she?"

Pryce: "His wife."

That causes Drakus to sit up and take notice.

Drakus: "He had a wife?"

Pryce: "Yes, a long time ago. But as you saw, Darkness ended up hurting the one he loved."

Gonzalo hands Drakus another cup of bitter tea.

Drakus: "Explains a lot."

Pryce: "You should be thankful. Had he not been provoked into such a reckless attack, Darkness would almost surely have beaten you ... or worse."

Drakus winces as Gonzalo presses on his newly tender ribs.

Drakus: "Thanks."

Pryce: "You should thank me. Your odds of winning the tournament have greatly increased."

Drakus: "Still two more to deal with."

Pryce: "Later. For now, you should give yourself time to recover. Mr. Blackwell and Mr. Strikmore can wait a day or two."

Drakus drains the last of the tea. A wave of fatigue washes over him.

Drakus: "What about ... Darkness?"

Pryce: "He will be dealt with, rest assured."

But Pryce's words fall on deaf ears. Drakus is already sleeping.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pryce and Gonzalo wait until they're sure the tea's sedative effects have taken hold before locking Drakus in his room. Pryce joins the Maya healer in a darkened room thick with some kind of acrid incense.

Pryce: "What should we do about Darkness?"

Gonzalo: "He is still a man."

Pryce: "Yes, but our resources aren't what they once were, and at the moment he is under Dante's protection. Drakus will never get close enough to finish what he started. And time is our enemy. Darkness is extraordinarily resilient. His body is strong."

Gonzalo: "Then we attack his spirit."

The old man carefully opens a leather bag lying on a table in the center room. He removes a smaller cloth bag tied with a drawstring.

Pryce: "What's this? Did you go on a local shopping expedition today?"

Gonzalo unties the bag and reaches in. Something inside moves.

Gonzalo: "In my way."

When his hand emerges, Gonzalo is holding a small gray snake. Pryce recoils slightly.

Pryce: "Not a pet, I trust?"

The snake moves back and forth lazily, flicking its tongue. Don Gonzalo continues to hold it, not displaying any signs of apprehension that it may decide to strike.

Gonzalo: "I found them outside the city."

Pryce: "Are they deadly?"

Gonzalo: "A healthy man could survive."

Pryce: "But Darkness is not a healthy man."

Gonzalo brings the snake close to his face, whispering something in Spanish.

Pryce: "How do you plan to deliver them?"

Gonzalo: "You will deliver them."

Pryce: "I doubt I could get close enough to drop them under his bed."

Gonzalo: "No need. They will seek him out."

Pryce: "I take it you've given this some thought, then?"

Gonzalo: "Can you get inside the place where Darkness is being kept?"

Pryce: "Of course."

The old man gingerly places the snake back in its bag.

Gonzalo: "Good."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

THE FOLLOWING DAY

The security personnel pat down Pryce before allowing him into the medical facility. He steps through a metal detector and his briefcase is passed through an X-ray machine.

Pryce: "Is this really necessary? I'm an attorney, not a common criminal."

Security guard: "Mr. Dante's orders."

Once he's through the security checkpoint, his briefcase and other effects are returned. Two burly guards escort Pryce to an elevator.

Pryce: "I'm sure I could find my own way, gentlemen."

Security guard: "We're to take you directly to Mr. Dante, sir."

When Pryce and his escorts leave the elevator, several more security personnel are waiting for them. Pryce is thankful he took precautions to keep Drakus away from this place. Several minutes pass in silence. Finally a door opens, revealing a pale man dressed in white.

Pryce: "Ah, Mr. Dante."

The world champion is accompanied by a dark-haired woman. From the files, Pryce recognizes her as Selenia, Dante's constant companion. Pryce holds out his hand for the champion.

Pryce: "Mr. Dante, my name is Pryce, I represent Drakus."

Dante looks at the offered hand but makes no move to shake it.

Dante: "I know who you are, Mr. Pryce. Come with me."

With his cane, Dante gestures toward a long hallway. He and Selenia lead the way, Pryce trailing several steps behind, still flanked by Dante's security personnel.

Pryce: "My client is currently indisposed, but he dispatched me to personally express his condolences for this tragic turn of events."

Dante doesn't respond. They come to a room with thick glass walls, labelled "Isolation 1." Inside, a man lies on a hospital bed, hooked to monitors and IVs. Pryce knows the patient's face as well.

Dante: "Take a good look at your client's handiwork, Mr. Pryce."

The barely suppressed anger in Dante's words throws Pryce off balance for a moment. As far as he knew, no one had witnessed the confrontation between Darkness and Drakus.

Pryce: "I don't know how to respond, Mr. Dante. If you have evidence of my client's responsibility, I urge you to contact the local authorities. However, I am quite certain you have been misinformed."

Selenia: "You lie well."

Dante: "But I know the truth."

Pryce: "What proof do you have?"

Dante: "An eyewitness."

Pryce: "Witnesses can be unreliable."

Dante strikes his cane against the floor.

Dante: "Enough!"

He practically spits the word at Pryce.

Selenia: "What do you want?"

Pryce: "A guarantee that my client will not be a target of any reprisals based on this regrettable incident, which he was not in any way responsible for."

Dante: "Then he should come to me himself."

Pryce: "He'd prefer to delay your reunion until he earns the right to meet you again in the ring, Mr. Dante. In fact, I'd say that's Drakus' fondest desire. And it won't be long now."

Dante: "If he gets past Darkness first."

Pryce glances back toward Darkness, motionless on his hospital bed.

Pryce: "Yes, of course. We're all hoping he will make a full recovery in time for his match. In the meantime, do I have your assurance that no misguided attempts at retribution, if you pardon the pun, will be made against Drakus?"

Dante's jaw clenches. He seems ready to snap at Pryce, primed to lash out. Selenia leans in and whispers something into Dante's ear. He listens attentively and nods. When Dante turns his attention back to Pryce, his gaze is icy.

Dante: "Very well. Provided your client keeps his distance from Darkness, neither I nor my people will come for Drakus. But if he tries anything ..."

Pryce: "You have my guarantee, Drakus will do nothing to impede Darkness' recovery."

Dante: "Then our business is concluded. These men will show you out."

Dante and Selenia turn to go. The security guards begin to usher Pryce back toward the elevator. The attorney stops and turns back, calling to the world champion.

Pryce: "And please pass along my hopes for your associate Acolyte's swift recovery as well. It's a shame, all of these setbacks at once. Perhaps this new club of yours simply isn't meant to be."

Dante doesn't answer, doesn't look back. Selenia, on the other hand, shoots Pryce a murderous glance, intense enough to send a shudder through the normally composed attorney. On the way back to the elevator, Pryce sees a bathroom.

Pryce: "Excuse me gentlemen, I need to use the facilities."

A guard stations himself outsidethe door. Inside the otherwise empty bathroom, Pryce looks around. He enters a stall and locks the door, sitting on the toilet and setting his briefcase on his lap. He opens the case and removes a newspaper along with several files. Then Pryce stops and listens momentarily. No sounds, no indication that any of Dante's security people followed him into the bathroom.

Satisfied that he is alone, Pryce removes the false bottom from his briefcase. He opens a hidden compartment and takes out a cloth bag. Pryce's fingers tremble slightly as he unties the string holding the bag closed. He sets the bag down on the tile floor and gently tips it over with the tip of his polished shoe. Half a dozen gray snakes slither across the floor.

Pryce (whispering): "Good hunting."

He wastes no time putting his briefcase back together and leaving the bathroom. On his way out, Pryce sees one of the vipers slithering into a vent.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Drakus slowly comes to, and for a moment he's not sure where he is. Dim sunlight intrudes through the room's closed curtains, illuminating the features of his Spanish hotel suite. Still loggy in the limbs and foggy in the brain, Drakus gropes for the bedside clock. It can't be right. The clock says it's almost seven in the evening. Someone knocks at the door.

Drakus: "Yeah?"

Pryce enters, looking even more satisfied with himself than usual.

Pryce: "How are we feeling today?"

Drakus: "Like I just slept for a week."

Pryce: "Actually, it was only about 20 hours or so."

Drakus sits up in bed. The pain is still there, but diminished.

Drakus: "Why didn't somebody wake me up?"

Pryce: "You needed the rest."

Drakus puts his feet on the floor.

Drakus: "Enough rest. Time to go to work."

Pryce: "Well, if you insist ..."

Drakus stops searching for his shirt and looks to his lawyer. As usual, it sounds as though Pryce has some plan in mind.

Drakus: "What is it?"

Pryce: "Apparently there was a witness to your clash with Darkness, a witness who then informed Mr. Dante of what had transpired."

Drakus: "So what?"

Pryce: "Come now, you must be curious as to the identity of the informant."

Drakus shrugs.

Drakus: "Sure. So, who was it?"

Pryce: "The rookie sensation, Mr. Strikmore."

Drakus: "And?"

Pryce: "Unfortunately, thanks to Mr. Strikmore's disclosure of your involvement, Darkness is now beyond your reach. I had to assure Dante that you would not come near Darkness before the match in order to guarantee your immunity from reprisal."

Drakus: "I'll finish Dante's bitch one way or another."

Pryce: "That may not be necessary. Nevertheless, Strikmore is the more immediate threat. So far, it appears Dante is the only one with whom he has shared his eyewitness account. However, if he were to involve the authorities, things could become more complicated. Perhaps it may be time for you to pay your opponent a visit, to discourage him from any further telling of tall tales to the wrong people."

Drakus slips a black T-shirt over his recently re-bandaged ribs. He finds his belt and wraps it around one hand.

Drakus: "By the time I get done, he won't be saying a word to anybody."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Matt Strikmore paces back and forth in the hotel hallway. He came to see DeSean again, to apologize for his inexplicably weird behavior during their previous meeting. Now, standing outside DeSean's room, Matt isn't sure what to say. He's not even sure why he did it to begin with, much less how he can convince DeSean that he isn't some kind of psycho.

Matt: "Sorry about that whole rooftop chase thing ... god, so stupid!"

He slaps his head, still searching for some explanation or apology that won't cause him to lose what little respect he might still have from his future opponent.

Matt: "Hey, thanks for saving my ass with the cops ..."

Better. Not good enough, but better. Matt still can't understand why a member of Infinity would stick up for him the way DeSean did, not after the match with Titanium Insomniac. And considering all the stories about things that happen backstage at this fed, that kind of decency was a big shock. So what did he do to repay it? Freaked out in public and embarrassed the guy.

Matt: "DeSean, I ..."

Suddenly Matt is slammed against the wall face-first. The impact dazes him momentarily. He's dragged into a nearby alcove. A large forearm sporting a flame tattoo wraps around Matt's throat. He feels hot breath on his face.

Drakus: "You've been talking about me."

The arm around his throat is cutting off Matt's oxygen supply. He's seeing stars.

Drakus: "Sshhhhhh, no more talking."

There is a hidden world of which the vast majority of humanity must, by necessity, be ignorant. There are things we are not evolved to understand; ideas that are beyond our comprehension.

Once, mankind knew the truth. It nearly destroyed us - and not once, but dozens upon dozens of times. Ancient disasters now explained by mundane catastrophes may well have been anything but, in truth.

So...

The truth was suppressed. The Shadow Slayers are - were - warriors, but they were also destroyers of information and creators of stories. Stories are reflections of the truth filtered through the human mind when reality is too dangerous to confront directly.

‘Jack and Jill went up the hill...' is a story of adultery and betrayal. ‘Rumpelstiltskin' is a fable that denounces female masturbation.

I'm serious.

We craft the stories so we can teach our children the things they need to know without having to force uncomfortable truths into their heads.

Humanity are the children of the Shadow Slayers, in a manner of speaking.

We made the very real threats into stories. We taught you to be afraid of the dark and also robbed the Shadowspawn we hunted of their power into the bargain. No one is really afraid of a vampire...but you know to run away if you see someone with fangs, right?

Now...did you ever wonder why you were scared of snakes?

Hmm?

It moved slowly through the air vent, its sinuous form caressing the metal surface of the duct in a strangely unnatural way. It was a hybrid - or rather, the descendent of hybrids. They were everywhere, infesting the globe, the hybrids.

Wolves...humans...hell, you can even add angels to the mix now...

These are strange times; perfect for a creature such as this.

Macrovipera Diabolos.

You probably won't find it in your high-school biology textbook, by the way.

It moved with an intelligence born of millennia of adaptation to its prey: humans. Snakes tend not to eat people, as a rule - too big, too dangerous - but these snakes were not subject to the same rules as their purebred forebears. Their venom was of a different kind entirely, functioning in a way that defied human understanding.

Most toxins affect tissues. It could be muscles, organs, skin, even the brain, but it's always a physical tissue. Cells. There are only a small number of poisons - and information on all of them is ruthlessly suppressed - that bypass biology altogether and assault the one thing that can never be healed.

Don't make me spell it out.

* * *

Dante walked slowly through the corridors of the hospital in a kind of daze. Pryce's visit had been a strange kind of shock. For quite some time now, Dante had become used to dealing with his problems in an extremely direct fashion. With a blade; a fist; an application of his newfound psionic abilities even.

Being approached by a lawyer was something he had almost forgotten was the way most people dealt with situations like this. For some reason, he hadn't expected Drakus to be the type to seek out legal counsel after destroying someone like Darkness.

So where did that leave him?

He knew there was nothing he could do. He had the power and money to pull enough strings to get Darkness out of trouble, but it was beyond even his influence to order an attack on a public figure and avoid repercussions - legal or otherwise.

Part of him desperately wanted to make Drakus pay for what he had done; it was the part of him he had made clear he had left behind in the Nevada desert before Endgame. But still, despite knowing that he never wanted to go back to being the man he once was, he felt like he was in the right for desiring revenge.

Darkness's words spoken to Jack Dane on the mesa came back to him then.

Vengeance was never an acceptable course of action. Dante's own blade had halted Darkness's attempts to exact retribution on Lucifer and, Dante knew well, that whenever Darkness had been allowed to act out of revenge, the consequences had been dire.

He wondered what had caused him to attack Drakus, realising implicitly that it was Darkness's anger that must have caused this. Drakus would not have been so successful against the usually calm and measured New Hellfire Club member.

"Mr. Dante?"

Jason looked up to see a nurse with her arms full of certain objects he recognised approaching him.

"Yes?"

She proffered the items and continued speaking in heavily accented English, "These are your friends things...we would...uh...request that you put them in...locker...?"

"Oh. Of course."

They'd decided he was staying for the duration then.

He took the personal effects in his arms and looked at them. The jacket, of course, the ever-present black shirt with the distinctive cross icon, and the weapons. He felt a little odd holding a sword in a public building, but then his own cane concealed a narrow rapier, so he had little room to talk.

It didn't take Dante long to find the lockers and, moving slowly, he began to place the possessions of his companion in the austere metal box. He tried to fold the leather coat and realised for the first time just how worn and filthy it was.

He made a mental note to tell Darkness to clean it sometime. Then he wondered if he would ever actually be able to do so.

Dante sighed and bundled the coat into the locker, but something slid out of the pocket and landed on the floor. Curious, he stooped down to retrieve it and examined the small silver object with a frown.

It was Darkness's cell phone.

He flipped it open and watched it spring into life.

"Twenty three missed calls...what the...?"

A click and something cold and metallic against the back of his head cut off his words.

"What the hell did you do to him, Dante?" John Doe asked.

* * *

The snake slipped neatly between the grating of the air vent and, defying physics, adhered to the wall of the room and moved slowly towards the ceiling. It didn't need to be told who its target was. It was in this creature's nature to seek out the most delicious prey and pursue it unrelentingly.

Darkness shone like a beacon in its hybrid mind.

There was nothing else on earth like this one. The snake could see the huge, black-feathered wings that hung over the side of the bed and the strange armour the figure wore. It could see the mask that covered half of Darkness's face and the lightning bolts carved into the flesh over his eyes.

It saw beyond reality, into the place where the soul dwelt.

That was what it sought, what it would feast upon. Its victims had been many already, but its attacks could never be diagnosed by human medical knowledge. These snakes didn't kill; but they did destroy.

In their wake were left lifeless husks. Still living, and yet robbed of life, they would endure for years afterwards without joy, without the ability to learn or love. The snake's bite made the human body a prison for a mind bereft of the ability to truly experience anything again.

Against Darkness and what he represented, there was no more potent weapon.

* * *

Doe looked harder, more dangerous. Stubble several days old covered his face and he looked exhausted. Yet, there was a strange spark in his eyes as if he had finally discovered why he had been put on this earth.

Given what little he knew of how Darkness had parted with his friend on the mesa, Dante supposed that was probably true.

"I did nothing. This was someone else."

Doe narrowed his eyes but did lower his pistol. "I've heard about the New Hellfire Club..." he said.

"Then you know that Darkness and I are no longer enemies."

He inclined his head, "Darkness made that clear on the mesa, but when I heard he was in a coma...I...well..."

"You naturally assumed I was to blame?" Dante finshed, fire flashing in his eyes.

"It's not an illogical assumption," Doe retorted, now finally holstering the silver weapon Darkness had given him almost a year ago and moving over to a chair in the hospital's locker room.

"No, perhaps not," Dante conceded, "But please believe me when I tell you that I had nothing to do with this."

Doe nodded. "Even so, you're the only guy I can name off the top of my head that might be able to do this to him."

Dante snorted, "You flatter me, but I have to agree with you - I was puzzled by what Strikmore told me."

"Strikmore?"

"Another of Darkness's opponents," Dante explained, "He witnessed what happened."

"And?"

"Drakus did this."

Doe frowned. "Drakus...yeah, that rings a bell - he came second in the Road to Glory, right?"

Dante nodded without saying anything.

"Big guy...lots of tattoos...grudge against the world, yeah?"

"That's him."

"Any idea why he'd do this, besides wanting to win?"

Dante paused. "Drakus and I have a history together."

Doe arched an eyebrow and leant forward. "Go on..." he urged.

"I destroyed him in order to gain entry to the original Hellfire Club. As a result he crashed out of the 411fed and remained something of a derelict for the next three years."

"In other words," Doe summarised, "He blames you and the Hellfire Club for fucking up his life?"

"Correct."

"Makes sense. So...where can I find Drakus?"

Dante shook his head, "It isn't that simple...Drakus's lawyer visited earlier. He made it clear that, because I can't prove anything, I was to send nobody after him to seek retribution."

Doe grinned his lopsided smile as he stood up. "Then we're in the clear, Dante."

"How so?"

Doe pulled out his pistol and flicked off the saftey catch. "I'm John Doe, remember? I am nobody..."

* * *

The snake slithered across the floor and looked for the best place to strike. Darkness was a meal far more wonderful than any it had experienced before and it knew it had to savour such a...

The creature froze. More beings were approaching....dangerous beings...

Two humans entered. Their souls were dull and unappetising, though he sensed that the larger one - the being supporting itself with odd metal sticks - could one day have potential.

The two that came after were another prospect entirely. One was a woman, radiant and yet terrible. He knew her kind, and felt the kinship with her...

The other...

The snake recoiled. His kinship with that one was even closer, but the hybrid was unnerved by its very presence. To the creature, the man that had entered the room appeared to be a great, monstrous beast with wide horns brooding over flaming red eyes. Its body was scaled in silvery-white reptilian hide.

It was the White Dragon.

Afraid, the snake crawled under Darkness's bed and waited for these ones to leave.

"He said he was nobody," Dante told Selenia as they looked down at the comatose form of Darkness, "In other words, I'm alone."

(ooc: This takes place before Drakus' post)
The hospital doors opened, he walked inside looking for the front desk, and behind him Matt Strikmore was fast asleep. He eyed him and shook his head, Strikmore was a loser he couldn't believe he defeated TI even with Darkness' help. He ignored him and made his way to the front desk

DeSean: I'm looking for um...Darkness' room.

The woman gave him directions, he made his way to the room and walked inside.

beep......beep.....beep

There was no one around, no sign of Dante, no sign of Selenia, the hallways of the hospital seemed like a ghost town. He smiled at the comatose Darkness, he closed the door and pulled up a chair to the bed. He leaned forward towards the bed and waved his hand in front of Darkness' face. He leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling and then he spoke.

DeSean: Wow Darkness, what do we have here?

beep.....beep.....beep

DeSean: I was told many times to just forget about you focus on the others, well I don't have to worry about you anymore, it looked like you bit off a little bit more than you can chew with Drakus, it looks like you're fucked right now.

beep.....beep.....beep

DeSean: Yea I know you'll be back, you're probably expecting to come back minutes before our match, have an ambulance drive you to the arena down the aisle, you run outside, fly into the ring, kick everybody's ass and win.

beep....beep....beep

DeSean: May I make a suggestion?

beep.....beep....beep

DeSean: How about you stay a vegetable at least until the after the match is over because if you don't, I'll put you in a coma my damn self and this time you won't wake up.

bzzz...bzzz

DeSean: Hold on

DeSean looked at his phone, the name Ms. Stern appeared on screen

DeSean: I have to take this

Valerie: DeSean, I know it's late but this cannot wait

DeSean: I understand, What do you want?

Valerie: I get a call from a hospital that Darkness is in serious condition

DeSean: I know, I heard, I'm in the hospital now visiting him, he's in a coma. It's sad just looking at him.

Valerie: So you know already? Good, so it's safe to say you know something about the attack.

DeSean: Not a damn thing, Ms. Stern. I was with...Tiffany the entire night

He had to lie, he just hoped Strikmore didn't ruin his alibi with Tiffany that's if Strikmore gets a call.

DeSean: It's not my style, I can beat him in the ring, you know there are two other people in the match. Strikmore and Drakus and we all know Strikmore wouldn't do it, so that leaves Drakus.

Valerie: Don't worry they will get a call, I've promised Madrid's finest that we'll give our cooperation and while we're on the subject of police, I heard you were in arrested in Puerto Rico.

DeSean: I'm not sure where you heard that

Valerie: From Freya

DeSean: That snitch!

Valerie: I was lying, you just confirmed it

DeSean: Those were bullshit charges!

Valerie: Even so, you were arrested that means you will be fined $50,000

DeSean rubbed his eyes and head, he simulated throwing the phone and breaking it before putting it back to his mouth again.

DeSean: Fine Ms. Stern, is that all?

Valerie: Yes it is, remember I have my eye on you on all of you

DeSean: Ok bye, Ms. Stern

DeSean hung up his cell phone

DeSean: Fucking bitch, sorry I didn't mean to curse you know our boss is though

beep.....beep....beep

DeSean: Hehe, yea I know, I was thinking the same thing, I know you hear every damn word I'm saying so let me leave you with this. I hate you, I really hate that emo Acolyte, I hate Dante and that bitch Selenia, when you wake up tell Dante I'm going to kick his ass and take his belt and bring it to Infinity.

Before DeSean left, he looked at a bouquet of flowers, sitting in front of the bed. He grabbed the bouquet and left the room, he didn't have to worry about Darkness, now his attention would be on his two opponents Matt and Drakus. On the surface Matt didn't seem like he should worry about but he did, Matt was stronger than he looked and he did beat some damn good wrestlers. As for Drakus, they almost had a match back in May but it didn't happen due to the Italian Stallion's attack but Drakus showed what he could do to them. DeSean was worried about Drakus, he was a fucking nutcase, if he had no problem risking losing a spot in the match by taking out Darkness then what will he do in the match? He looked over at the sleeping Strikmore, it looked he was going to make nice with Matt again, he put on his headphones and turned on his MP3 player after leaving the hospital.

.....................

You want it all
the greatest smile
Who wants to deny forever?
You're made of ice
I pay the price
for all you unforgiveness

Turning off Lacuna Coil‘s Tightrope, DeSean stepped inside his hotel room, he quietly shut the door as not to disturb Tiffany as she slept. He walked over to the dresser sitting opposite the beds, he pulled up a chair and turned on the small lamp that sat on top of it. He opened a drawer and pulled out a folder containing profiles of every single wrestler on the roster, he flipped through the folder bypassing names until he found his own, he skimmed over the info he knew and began to read what others were saying about him.

"DeSean's biggest weakness is his inability to close out matches, he'll have his opponents beaten but in the end he'll make a small mistake (usually stalling or showing off) and the opponent gains the upper hand and wins."

DeSean rolled his eyes at the criticism, the match against Freya proved that he took advantage of his situation and won. He continued to read more

"Another weakness is his confidence, he's either to self-confident or not confident enough which causes him to doubt his abilities."

That may have been true but DeSean wasn't going to admit that, he didn't get to the point of where he was now by being insecure. People may have foolishly doubted his skills but he never did, as a matter of fact he preferred that people doubted him, it's what fueled him, it's what drove him to succeed. He put the paper back into the folder and slid the drawer close, he examined the Infinity ring again, it shined back at him. There was something different with the ring, he could feel it. Maybe that's what the tape that Shadow handed to him was about, the question is should he tell Shadow the truth?

Or should he pretend that he knows what's going on? He didn't know how Shadow would react and he didn't want the headache, he decided to keep it to himself until after the match, then he'll get an explanation. He could hear the sounds of snoring as Tiffany laid fast asleep, he wondered how she could fall asleep so easily, it was the exact opposite with him. There were to many things going on right now for him to fall asleep and it showed. His eyes were red, he hadn't shaved, his hair was a mess, he was getting worry lines across his forehead, there was too much pressure on him right now, he had to win. He came so far not to win, it seemed like it was his time, he was told that the moon and the stars were aligned in Mars' orbit or some astrological shit like that. All he knew was that was supposed to be a good thing. He laid his head back in the chair and closed his eyes, hoping to finally get some rest.

...........................

*Back to the present*

Drakus kept his hand around Strikmore's throat, not releasing his grip, straining to breathe Strikmore swung his arms trying to loosen Drakus' grip. Drakus smiled an evil smile and pushed him against the door.

Drakus: You're making to much noise

Strikmore wondered if the banging on the door would cause someone to open it and even then would DeSean even help him? He continued to struggle, flailing his arms, until he decided to direct his hands to Drakus' face, he connected with a strong punch to Drakus' jaw which caused Drakus to loosen grip and let go of Strikmore. He turned around and held his head while Strikmore gasped for air, Strikmore slowly got up into the gorilla position, ready for anything.

Drakus: Oh, you son of a bitch.

Drakus walked towards Strikmore and stopped they both turned to DeSean's door which was now unlocking, they heard the door open and watched as DeSean walked out.

DeSean: Who's banging on the doo...what the fuck are you two doing outside my room?

DeSean closed his door and backed away from the both of them, he put his two hands up, not sure if Drakus and Strikmore were in cahoots or not, Strikmore stayed in his gorilla position this time eyeing DeSean as well. Drakus backed up two steps, he switched his eyes back and forth looking at DeSean then Strikmore. The three men stood their ground inside the hotel hallway.

DeSean: Well what the fuck are you guys doing?

For some reason, I think now would be a great time to introduce you to one of TCW's newest merchandise items. Remember those Choose Your Own Adventure books? TCW Merchandising has decided that it would be a great idea to revive the format, albeit with stories involving TCW wrestlers. They believe it will make the wrestling fan feel like they're booking a feud between the wrestlers and get them more involved with the product. One of the books already produced is entitled "Jason Dante vs. The Hammer"...let's check it out, shall we?

Let's assume that you've already chosen the option of Dante going to a bar, then he got thrown in jail, and then you chose the option of having Hammer go to the jail to visit him rather than continue his tirade on Spain's television stations. So the page you're on right now reads like this:

"We're going there!"

Jabbar looked like he had just been given an invitation to get his kneecaps beaten off.

"There?"

Hammer looked at the TV and shook his head.

"No, to the jail."

***Elsewhere***

Dante (to himself): I smirked; a thing I knew made me look like I was happy even though I wasn't. The cops had given me a single cell, no one else in the entire corridor, here I was, alone at last in a world where being just that was hard as hell. Only one thing would make this complete, one thing that would...

Noise from the entrance of the corridor was an indication; the only thing that made this perfect had arrived. Without even looking I knew that Hammer and Jabbar were walking down the corridor to his cell. This, I thought; would be interesting. I turned off the smirk and without looking said.

"Hello Hammer, having a good day?"

Is Hammer having a good day?

If he is, turn to page 24...

If he isn't, turn to page 5...

If he's in the middle, turn to page 47...

Page 47

Hammer replies "I've had better, I've had worse." He looks at Dante, a shell of himself sitting in the corner of a dingy Spanish prison cell. "What is wrong with this man?" Hammer wonders to himself. Hammer launches into a diatribe about how he thought getting rid of Dante's Hellfire Club was going to be more of a challenge, but they're falling apart before him.

Hammer: Acolyte...broken neck, who knows if he'll ever be able to wrestle again. From what I hear about Darkness these days, he isn't in much better shape. And you...a drunken fool spending the night in the can. What a disgrace! At least when I attacked Darkness's character he tried to defend himself. You...you just seem to go out of your way and prove me wrong!

How does Dante reply?

If he tries to attack Hammer through his prison bars, turn to page 23...

If he just sits there and doesn't pay attention, turn to page 99...

Page 99

Dante ignores Hammer's rambling and stares at the wall. He knows that this will piss off Mutaaz Tareef even more than trying to attack him or trying to defend himself. Sure enough, Hammer starts shouting to get Dante's attention.

Hammer: Don't you have any dignity, man? What the hell is wrong with you? Listen, if you think you're going to get out of this match with me by staying in jail, you're got another thing coming...I talked to the Commish about 30 minutes ago and she says she'll cover whatever your bail money is. When I kick your ass, Jason...it's going to be in front of tens of thousands of people in the Plaza de Ventas. I'm not going to waste myself right here and right now in front of a couple of security guards.

Dante looks up at Hammer...

Dante: Do you ever shut up? Christ, you're worse than my mother was.

Muhammad Jabbar interjects...

Jabbar: Dante, my student is only looking out for his best interests...which probably coincide with your best interests better than your current actions.

Dante: Well, tell your student that he can take his best interests and shove them up his ass.

Jabbar: Mutaaz, Dante say-

Hammer: I heard him!

What does Hammer do now?

If he busts open Dante's cell door and tries to kick his ass, turn to page 7...

If he goes and tries to talk to the security guards, turn to page 33...

If he leaves the prison, turn to page 34...

Page 33

Hammer walks up to the security guard...

Hammer: Listen sir, your inmate down there doesn't look like he's going to be ok for awhile.

Security guard: No hablo ingles.

Hammer: Ah, so you don't speak English. (aside to Jabbar) I at least learned that much in my Spanish class. (back to the security guard) OK...let me see if I can remember my Spanish from junior year of high school...

What does Hammer say to the security guard using his very rusty Spanish?

If he says "Ese hombre no debe ser lanzado", turn to page 2...

If he says "Deseo hacer saltar esta prisión", turn to page 44...

If he says "Tienes boobs muy agradables", turn to page 36...

Page 44

Hammer: Deseo hacer saltar esta prisión.

The security guard immediately screams "¡Atención! ¡Un hombre muy grande desea hacer saltar la prisión!" Several security guards appear out of nowhere and attack Hammer & Jabbar...

Jabbar (while kicking at the security guards trying to handcuff him): What did you say to him?

Hammer: I thought I was saying...get off me...thought I was saying "I don't want that man out of this prison".

What Hammer doesn't know is that he actually said "I want to blow up this prison". Because he said that, the security officers are handcuffing Hammer & Jabbar and escorting them into the prison cell right across the hallway from Jason Dante. Or at least they're trying to, because Hammer's trying to fight them off. Dante looks at them and chuckles.

Dante: You really are an idiot, aren't you?

You know, I think it's time I put down this book before I get our Muslim heroes in any more trouble...

"Well, well, well...lookie here who's in a bit of trouble!" Spike said.

"ungh...urrgh...ugh...Where...where am I?" Frankie Hayes retorted.

Spike looked at his...their victim he corrected himself. Hayes didn't look so dangerous when he was tied to the chair and was barely conscious, he thought. The world famous(in circles where wrestling was a big deal) tag team wrestler looked woozy and odd, mainly because he was just that.

"You're in our hands man, and we'll make you wish you weren't."

Frankie Hayes wasn't the kind to be afraid, he had been in trouble before, after all Japan wasn't a safe place for a Gai-Jin to wrestle in, there were still dangers, dangers of which low paying promoters was the least to worry about. Japan had its own problems just like any modern nation; everything from normal crime to the Yakuza existed. Hayes remembered rumours that some wrestlers that liked to use the Yakuza Kick was on the "mob's" bankroll. He looked up at the still smirking Spike who was standing in front of him with a wide grin on his lips.

Hayes let his eyes grow narrow as he scanned his opponents, Spike was a "skinny" guy that looked like someone who had missed the fact that the punk movement had passed years ago, the smaller of the Hellions looked like a bundle of nervous nerves ready to burst at any time.

"Go to hell..." Hayes spat out.

Spike took this remark in his stride, he just laughed at him and with a grin growing wider he said.

"Been there, done that and bought the effing T-Shirt man. You're the guy who is in hell now man...a hell you'll hate right a-fucking-way."

As these words left Spike's mouth, the bigger member of the Hellions approached, last time he had seem Thorne the large man had been calm and still almost, now he was different. He had definite Asian features, features Hayes recognized right away and wanted nothing to do with. Throne was large, Hayes in his dazed state guessed about 6'7" or 6'8" something like that, the huge man approached and Hayes put on his best I-don't-give-a-shit look and told Thorne in Japanese.

<Do your worst freak!>

To Hayes horror...Thorne prepared to do just that.

***Elsewhere***

"No..no habla Spani...fuck you!"

Hawk was getting awfully tired of actually walking towards where he suspected his opponents held his partner, he had no idea what the man who had just screamed at him from his open car window wanted to say, it could honestly been anything, but the tone told him that it wasn't friendly and a international one finger thing had told him what was going on...The fiery Spaniards face had been a mix of emotions when he sped on after having yelled at the walking American. Hawk cursed again, he was getting too old for this shit. He cursed as he walked towards the closest exit on the motorway, he had been walking for a bout 10 minutes now and had been cursed at by several people passing him, everyone actually he corrected himself...apart from the kids who had smiled and waved at him.

He had decided to leave the car after it had gotten stuck in a road block, he had thanked the driver who he was sure had no idea what he really was talking about and started walking. He neared the exit that was at the closest. He walked up the exit and took a short break while there.

As Hawk was standing there taking his break, he felt the bugle the bottle made in his leg, he remembered Frankie being a hostage and was about to start walking again when a car pulled up. As the large Texan prepared a new tirade of curses he was surprised when a voice in perfect American English addressed him.

"James Hawk, right?"

Hawk looked at the man in the black car and replied.

"Yeah, that's me."

The woman in the car smiled and said.

"Good, I have been looking for you."

"For me?" Hawk replied with surprise.

"Yes, you." The woman said with a slight case of annoyance beginning to appear in her voice. "Get in, I have been asked to take you to your partner."

Hawk stopped in his tracks, he was expecting an attack any second now. He looked over his shoulder repeatedly a move that seemed to annoy the woman in the car even more. She sighed an annoyed sigh and said.

"Look Hawk, I'm here to correct a problem that wasn't supposed to happen, not to add you to it."

Hawk looked at the woman and let his shoulders slump a bit, very well he was getting into the car.

He sat down and they drove off.

***Elsewhere***

Thorne was stretching out his right hand as if to grab Frankie's face, he moved his had towards Hayes face slowly, slowly. As he was a mere three inches away, a shrill call interrupted him. He paused and let his hand, that seemed dangerous to Hayes hang in the air in front of Hayes face as Spike grabbed his cell phone from his pocket.

"Yeah?"

"WHAT?!"

"You sent who here?"

"Now, sir, I don't mean to be rude..."

"No, I really don't!"

"Oh come on sir!"

"Fine, fine..."

*CLICK*

Throne looked at his tag partner with a question on his silent face. Spike looked at him and after a few curses, Spike told his partner.

"He's sending his fucking partner here...this isn't the "WAY" the "Boss" wants to conduct his business."

...

"I know, I know...but still who would have cared if you roughed him up a bit?"

...

"Whatever!"

Thorne pulled his extended hand back and bowed before a surprised Hayes. Frankie Hayes felt as if someone just pulled a series of large rocks from his body. Now after the threat of Throne's hand was gone. Hayes had no idea what Throne was planning on doing, but it did feel dangerous, he felt as the hairs on his neck slowly calmed down a bit. Spike was still cursing, almost screaming at well nothing. Hayes looked at the once more peaceful Throne and wondered as his splitting headache returned, who was this guy?

At first Spike was the one people caught attention to, but Throne was it seemed to Hayes the one who kept the attention fixed on the team. Hayes slumped downwards as the headache eliminated all thoughts, outside a car pulled up, a man Hayes knew well got out as the car sped off.

The behemoth's steps are methodical: not measured, just even. His heavy boots echo through the room, giving the encounter a sluggish pulse, the kind that would raise alarm during a doctor's visit. The beat raises a different sort of alarm in this context, sending The Insomniac's mind racing. He brandishes his cane like a baseball bat, but is aware of its potential toothpick effectiveness against this Mack truck.

TI grabs a wooden chair and launches it at the monster, who gives no notice of it hitting him square in the chest. He doesn't swat it or push it aside. He simply ignores it and continues unfazed toward an increasingly baffled foe. TI also observes that Breed's imposing size eliminates a quick tuck and roll toward the door, and he curses the squandering of a rare occasion when his own size makes him the quicker one. He mutters under his breath. "Speed and agility...that shit's overrated..."

TI's hands grind the cane, providing the expulsion of some nervous energy while he thinks. The clomp of the boots swell, and might as well be a ticking of the clock. TI backs around so that the small liquor bar now separates them. In mere moments, The Insomniac imagines, this piece of furniture will sail across the room. And then we'll mourn the terrible abuse of alcohol...and then The Insomniac grins and reaches into his pocket.

Fully realizing just how much he is dwarfed by his antagonist, TI nevertheless gets back a little of his trademark smarminess. "So...Breed, right? I hate to tell you this, my friend, but your boss is in serious trouble. No, really, he's playing Russian Roulette with this kid who, by all accounts, knows what he wants but has no clue how to get it. He's a time bomb, basically. No actually, I thought of a better one. You know those snake-charming churches in Kentucky...?"

Breed continues his advance, making no acknowledgment of the attempt at banter. The Insomniac's face drops. "Fuck it. I'm not wasting a good analogy on you."

Grabbing the bottle of Scotch that he'd sampled earlier, The Insomniac digs his shoulder into the bar, toppling it forward and sending the bottles of fine brandies, whiskeys, and bourbons to the floor in a series of crashes that break his heart as they pierce his ears. Breed takes little notice of them, the clomping now accompanied by the crunching of glass under his feet.

TI reaches back into his pocket and pulls out a Zippo lighter. "I'm sure that your handlers will be pissed about this. But really, in the long run...maybe I'm doing them a favor."

TI flicks open the Zippo, instantly igniting the small flame. Clutching the Scotch to his chest, he tosses the lighter in the midst of the spilled liquid, which produces a much more impressive blaze. This finally stops Breed in his tracks, as he seems to sense what is happening: the heat around his feet, even, it seems, crawling up his arm.

The fire jumps to the drapes and TI sees his window of opportunity shrinking. Taking a few steps forward, he's able to utilize his tuck and roll after all, cradling the Scotch in one arm. Pausing at the doorway, The Insomniac looks back at the blue beast, who is still trying to make sense of the situation. Finally, water showers down in light beads from the ceiling and the scream of the alarm pierces all corners of the house.

TI scrambles through the hallways, hoping to avoid other problems.

"Hey!"

TI turns to find a much less imposing figure in a black suit pointing a gun at his chest. TI ducks around a corner as part of the doorway explodes. Regaining his balance, he spots the stairs and hops the rail, protecting the bottle on the way to the bottom. Stumbling a little on the landing, TI heads for the front door.

"What the-?"

A vase disintegrates just above TI's left ear.

TI bursts out into the night and bounds down the steps and toward his own car. Sliding into the front seat, he guns the engine and disappears out the front gate. Behind him is all the yelling, gunfire, and a woman's scream as she discovers a lightly toasted blue menace. The chaos fades until he's left again with his own thoughts.

TI slaps the steering wheel. "'Never underestimate me, clown'...let's see you do that without your little .44 security blanket."

TI glances at the passenger seat and grins at his take-home prize. Grabbing it by the neck, he pulls off the stopper and takes a deep satisfying swig. Wiping his lips, he rounds a corner, almost taking it on two wheels.
___________________

"We've had a lot of discussions about what the job of a liberator is."

Jeremiah paces behind The Insomniac, slouching in a familiar leather chair, his elbows propped on the high arms and his fingers loosely laced. TI is much more subdued now; in a much darker frame of mind. His encounter with Breed had raised the temperature of his blood, the thought of Lupelli's smug grin even moreso.

The last signs of life in the room before these two arrived have been gone for hours, as if anguish only works an eight-hour shift. To TI's right and atop a large desk, a red light silently flashes on the psychologist's phone: a voice message from a female patient anxious that she'll soon do the unthinkable.

TI has already done the unthinkable. In fact, he hadn't thought about it in months until this unclean nobody of an "icon" crept into his life to remind him.

"Do you remember how I once defined liberator for you?"

"I remember."

"Repeat it back to me so that I can be sure."

TI forces a breath of air out through his mouth. "One charged with freeing another from his or her personal prison...more often mental or emotional than physical."

Jeremiah stops pacing. "Correct. Now...recall what we've done since we traveled to California. Recall your so-called ‘friend's' lies, recall how he begged, recall the sickening sound that signaled his life forever changed...at your hands. What had we decided the very next night after we had begun speaking again?"

The Insomniac doesn't seem to hear. His eyes are focused blankly on a shelf full of Jung. He begins to wonder whether he'd care if Mac's good doctor would miss some of them...

"What had we decided?"

TI's focus breaks for a moment when he realizes that he's been asked a question. Still, there is no visible effort to respond. Another sigh escapes his nostrils as he studies the book titles yet again.

Jeremiah stops pacing and walks around the chair. He leans his hands on the armrests so that TI has no option to look away. "What had we decided?"

Seemingly for the first time in quite a while, TI blinks. He returns Jeremiah's gaze. "We had decided that not only had he been liberated from his own selfishness and jealousy...we had indirectly liberated others from it as well."

Nodding with satisfaction, Jeremiah stands upright and resumes his pacing. "Now...from what does Mac Avoy need to be liberated?"

"A memory."

"How do you know?"

"Because it torments him. He hasn't been a functional member of society in years, but the trauma he now suffers prevents even the possibility of that changing. He's become consumed by it in such a way that it paralyzes him."

Jeremiah chuckles to himself. "Interesting choice of words, I must say."

The Sleepless One doesn't answer. Jeremiah continues his Socratic dialogue. "Mac needs to be liberated and you are his liberator. Of course, there is liberation for you in this as well. Have you thought about that?"

The Insomniac silently nods.

"I asked, have you thou-"

"Yes."

"Good. And what liberation is there for you in this situation?"

The leather creaks as TI adjusts his position. "The removal of the false accusation that I was not justified in doing what I did. The removal of the notion that I am bound by fleeting moral platitudes that have no semblance of understanding or appreciating the complexity of the situation within its context."

"And by liberating Mac and yourself..."

"...I liberate anyone else bound by those platitudes to make such an obtuse judgment."

Jeremiah stops pacing, drinking in the silence. He smiles in appreciation of his protégé's comprehension; savors this moment of triumph. "You and I both know that wrestling matches are secondary to this higher calling. You and I both know that Mac's claims in the wrestling world are simply a glimpse into his larger insecurity. Lupelli revealed his own insecurity earlier tonight when he tried to have his bodyguard do his own work while he fled."

"Does that make my own employment of Hardy equally insecure?"

"No...Hardy and the rest of Infinity are tools at your disposal. We've talked about that as well."

"Indeed we have. Right now he's distracted. Blinded by his own emotions. I can't count on him at Retribution."

"And you won't have to. Mac is mentally unfit and Lupelli is physically weakened. Hardy's participation won't be a factor. Carry him on your back and then cut him loose. Point him at Lupelli and let them destroy each other. Mac's liberation—and our own—is what concerns us now."

TI falls silent yet again, returning to his earlier pensive state. Jeremiah notices and takes a few hurried steps so that he's in front of The Sleepless One. "You've been waiting for it for too long and now it has finally arrived."

The Insomniac remains motionless. His eyes are all that move as he fixes them on his associate.

Jeremiah smiles a proud smile. "You've been waiting for that one definitive moment...that one explosive, terrible, glorious moment. It's yours, finally. They didn't care before--"

"They cared before."

Jeremiah's smile grows, taking on an air of sadism. "They will all over again. By liberating Mac in grandiose and public fashion, they will all over again."

"This is all familiar to me. We've planned this week after week."

"And the culture around you is changing. Strikmore needed help. He knew it. Darkness knew it. Lupelli needed it tonight. You've almost put them into submission. Pile on the pressure until you hear them begin to snap, then slow it down...small increments...apply more...harder...savor the slow giving way of cartilage...the progressive crippling that you control...and then finish it. Finish it not to hurt them, but to relieve them."

There is a long pause. TI focuses back on the books for a moment. He remembers the conversation he'd heard in this room hours ago...his darkest secrets again revealed to undeserving pissants...his overcoming of Breed...the ease with which Hardy has erupted throughout their brief partnership. Finally, he breaks from his reverie, stands, and picks up his cane. "No more fucking around."

Jeremiah nods. "No more."

I felt that strange calm again, a feeling I haven't felt a lot. I felt everything just calming down and things starting to grind to a halt. Without difficulty I suppress the smile that wants to break through and take one silent deep breath instead.

Minutes since the door was slammed shut had passed and Jabbar's and Hammer's whining seemed to have subsided for the moment at least. Hammer sat on the bed in his cell and seemed to silently curse his own fate, a fate brought on by his own words.

"If that isn't reason to laugh, I have no clue what is."

I let her words filter through my mind, letting every syllable pass through my skull as if it was pristine water; cool and cleansing, then I returned to ignoring her.

I let Hammer and Jabbar feel the anguish of prison for a few minutes, I let them feel the hopelessness of this place.

Jabbar asks about this place, why they are here and how this happened. Hammer retorts that it must have been a misunderstanding, Hammer is certain that it had to do with the time he had spent away from school.

I let them jabber on for a few minutes and then with a careless comment I put the arguments to end.

"It couldn't be because you just suck at Spanish?"

Instantly they both stopped talking as if they had just remembered me being here, in some strange way I was thankful.

Hammer got up and said "Well, aren't we both here Mr. Dante?"

"Yeah, we are...all three of us." I replied not wanting to leave Jabbar out of the discussion, this I now know was a mistake as it set him off.

"This is your fault Dante!" He started.

"It is?" I replied without caring.

"Most defiantly, I have no idea why you have ended up here and why we we..."

I interrupted him with a short and effective.

"And how did you know I was here then?"

"We...eh..."

"We saw it on TV..."

Hammer took the word from his mentor. I had to say that I was surprised at this, Hammer Had always seemed to be a protégé of Jabbar's, not the kind to take charge like he just did. Slowly I felt some interest starting to make its presence known. I didn't reply, the inertia was still my "thing" and the interest had just been piqued so I let Hammer and Jabbar pause as they it seems gather strength for the future. I didn't have to wait long.

"Dante, this...this whole thing..." Hammer began and motioned to the prison around them.

"It is a part of who I used to be, a part of where I came from." He said I let him pause and regain his verbal strength, this was going well.

"I have left this stuff behind, it's the past I decided to leave behind. Things I don't want to return to."

At this point, I decided to intervene to stop the self-loving.

"And yet you didn't think enough about what you said...you said that you wanted to bomb this station...in a city that still remembers its brush with Terrorism."

Hammer was dumbstruck it seemed, this (sadly) led to Jabbar taking the chance to get back in the game.

"TERRORISM?!" he began by screaming causing one of the guard to motion to him.

"This has nothing to do with terrorism!" He continued at a much lower tone but still with the same amount of anger in the voice.

I nodded and said: "I know that...he wanted to tell them that I was to be kept here but instead he said he wanted to bomb this place, smart move for a black guy with a definite Muslim "sidekick" at his side...very smart Hammer, very smart."

Jabbar looked at me, I could tell that his mind was racing. I didn't know much about the Jabbar guy, but my limited exposure to him and his stuff had led me to the conclusion that he was one I COULD stand to lose when the shit hit the fan.

At this point, Hammer was ready again after having been brought to a pause, he was about to fire off a verbal shot I'm still not sure if it was great or a great miss. Hammer pushed his face towards the bars and with almost a snarl he said.

"And why are you here Dante? We saw what looked like a fight on TV, any great logical reason behind that Hellfire Club genius?"

That should have made me pause, I was an idiot. I had let my own self pity take so deep root that I turned myself into a way to pay for crimes I had nothing to do with. I had become a way to turn the injuries to Acolyte and Darkness into punishment because in my mind I was guilty. This revelation was something I never let Hammer know about, he had no idea why I got up from the bed, no idea why I looked him straight in the idea and he had no ideawhy this tirade began.

"Hellfire Club genius?" I asked with more severity in my voice then I had had for the entire week.

"I'm not a genius; far from it what I do is based on emotion, pure and simple. I just know what I must do, there is no genius involved."

At this point my vice was getting louder and louder by the second as I was venting my own frustration of myself at Hammer and Muhammad Jabbar.

"You think this is what I wanted when I woke up today? You think I want a world where Acolyte is out of action for god knows how long? A world where Darkness is in coma? You think I want that?!"

Hammer looked at me with no fear, just a strange sense of something I don't really understand even now.

"Since I came to the federation more then three years ago it has been one adversity after another. Titles have come and gone just as fast again, you think I have cared?"

Hammer and Jabbar both looked stumped as my anger grew.

"No...fucking...way! I haven't given a shit about a single title, sure I was happy at winning them I was thrilled, but once I lost them there was always more."

I paused.

"But this is different, a whole different world. This is the biggest thing I have ever held Hammer, you've been close yourself...and trust me this is the big fucking one. I care about this because there is nothing after this. After I lose this title all will be either a let down or a repetition, this Mr.In-Fucking-finity mastermind is why I'll do ANYTHING to hold on to this belt."

"Jason..."

She made her presence felt again, it was soothing to feel her soul wash over mine, so good to feel her mind intermingle again. I apologized and as instantly forgiven.

"I have paid your bail, I have the feeling that you'll make sure that this prison stay never happened..."

"No, it will have happened...They don't have the proof to keep me behind bars...and to be honest, they have really nothing to keep Hammer and Jabbar on either."

She asked me if I was sure, which I of course was and if I was alright which again, I assured her I was. She gave me a "kiss" and the whole thing was over with as far as I was concerned.

I looked at Hammer and said: "Some ask me what brings the king to the throne? Power? Lust for possessions? Love of this game?"

Hammer looked at me and told me he had been asked similar things. Jabbar was pacing back and forth behind hammer spitting out insults in various languages, a few of which I actually understood.

I simply nodded and told him that what brought me to the throne was one thing that I learned about, one thing I had forgotten.

Friendship.

**A few weeks ago, maybe a month, maybe a day, Cameron isn't sure anymore. But he knows that he had a battle with Darkness. A man proclaiming himself to be the anti-christ. Yep, that anti-christ. Uh-huh. I hear ya. Anyway, back then, while locked in a battle with him, he was torn up by a gang of demons/disciples/all around bad-ass dudes or kids on an Xbox & Mountain Dew fueled rampage. Lying there in a pool of mother nature's sweat & his own piss and blood, Cameron thought he would die. He didn't. A woman saved him. Took him in from the rain, cleaned him up & cared for him.**

PD-"Maria..."

**That woman is now halfway around the world, standing before him, holding a military grade tazer while standing over the slumped & unconscious body of his former world tag team partner and now current opponent, Shadow.**

Maria-"Cameron."

**Through his torn shirt, Maria sees the burn marks redness bubbling up on his skin. She reaches out to touch them, but Cameron steps away from her. She quickly pulls her arm back, looking up at him.**

Maira-"You are hurt."

**Blinking through the warm breeze that wraps around them, he nods.**

PD-"Why are you here?"

**She does not speak, but only looks down at Shadow.**

PD-"Forget it...*He looks around at the non-descript landscape of rural mountains, more land of sand & dirt than of grass and of no water.*...I'm dead."

**Maria looks up at him, but his gaze is far off & distant.**

PD-"I'm dead & this is my souls resting place. But my wife & son aren't here...*he looks at Maria*...you are...*he looks down at Shadow*...and so is he. Great, I'm in hell."

**Maria shakes her head, but Cameron does not see it. He is back to looking around, surveying the land. His new home he believes. He begins to walk.**

Maria-"No."

**Stopping, he looks back at Maria. Her jet black hair gently rests behind her head in a ponytail. Her piercing eyes stare back at him, unknowingly freezing him for the moment. If he were not in the current spot he is in, he would fall for her. Love her. Protect her. And not even think twice about it. But today, right now, none of those things enter his mind. He just wishes for normalcy. Or death.**

PD-"What. What then?"

**A feeling of detachment washes over him. Like he's watching this moment on a 42" tv, rather than from his own perspective. His own eyes.**

"Well, what do you think?"

**Cameron blinks & suddenly realizes that he isn't watching this moment in his life with his own eyes, but on a 42 inch tv. While sitting on a leather couch. Next to a man dressed in an impeccable suit. Stan Deville. Cameron stares at Stan, who is sitting with one leg crossed over the other, with a remote control resting on his knee.**

PD-"..."

**Stan presses mute on the remote & the tv goes silent. He stares at the tv with a grin on his face.**

Stan-"Here's the money shot. The culmination of what the fuck has been going on in my life that I have been oblivious to for the last...oh, forever. Listen. Right here is where all this shit gets interesting."

**Cameron's eyes follow words that have no physical presence as they drift towards the tv. His look lands upon the tv as the vloume kicks back on.**

Maria-"You're not dead. You are too vital of a part of a greater plan. You see, the timestream that this earth exists in has been fractured & needs to be repaired. And only you can fix it."

**The tv goes mute again and the picture freezes as Stan jumps up from the couch, startling Cameron.**

Stan-"BOO-YEAH! Right there! Straight in the poop-shoot!"

**Stan smiles big & looks over at Cameron, who is wided-eyed and staring up at Stan.**

PD-"..."

Stan-"Ok, listen up here kid. I've got a couple of things for you to take in before I send back out into the real world."

**Cameron continues staring at Stan.**

Stan-"First, you & me...we're stuck together. I've known for some time that you knew I existed, but you refused to acknowledge me. That's ok. I'll accept your apology later."

PD-"Um..."

**Stan raises his hand & waves it at Cameron.**

Stan-"You can talk later, I need to get you back out there."

**Stan directs his thumb towards the tv screen.**

Stan-"Second, everything...and I mean EVERYTHING she tells you going forward, is true. Except for the part where she mentions that she could never love you because her beliefs don't allow it."

**PD glances at the forzen image of Maria on the screen.**

PD-"Love me?"

Stan-"Because in all honesty, she wants it from you. From that moment where she stripped you down naked & saw your third leg, she's wanted it crammed into her tiny hole. Oh yeah! Before I forget, and this is very important...she will take it in the ass. Just don't be forceful. Unless she asks you to."

**PD looks up at Stan & shakes his head.**

PD-"What the fuck are talking..."

Stan-"Not now boy. Next...Shadow & I are a lot alike. Remember that."

**PD stares at Stan as he winks & begins pacing the room.**

Stan-"Ok then...use me. Anyway you need to. I don't have to be present for you to use my powers, but it helps. All you have to do is think of what you want to do & "poof" it'll be done."

PD-"Poof?"

Stan-"Yeah...poof. Blammo, wha-KOW! BOO-YEAH! You know. Flames shooting out of your eyes, think about it. Flight, teleportation, x-ray vision, mind reading, whatever. Just think about it & you got it."

**PD looks down at the floor & sees a set of eyes peering out from a grate. Behind the eyes he sees flames off in the distance.**

PD-"Ummm, I think somethings on fire."

**Stan glances at PD & then over to where he was staring.**

Stan-"Uh...yeah. Good. As long as those flames burn, that means that Coren hasn't gotten laid yet."

**PD quizzically looks at Stan.**

Stan-"Ok kid, stay with me. Finally....*in his best James Earl Jones voice*....I am your father."

**PD's eyes widen as he cuts his glance to Stan.**

PD-"What?"

**Stan starts to snicker.**

Stan-"Nah, I'm just fucking with you. I've always wanted to say that to someone."

**PD begins to stand up.**

PD-"What the fuck is going on? Who are you? Where am I? What do you want from me?"

**Stan stops pacing & rolls his eyes.**

Stan-"Ok...We're having a conversation. I'm Captain Crunch, you're on the good ship lollipop and I want the secret recipe to Mr. Crab's Crabby Patties."

**Stan back hands PD, stinging his cheek & causing a trickle of blood to roll out of his nostril. PD raises his hand up to his face & looks back at Stan.**

Stan-"Listen closely Cameron Jones. I am Satan. I am from another dimension or reality if you will. I am inside of you. A few people in this world know something is off. They know that the balance or working order of things if you will, is off kilter. And they want you to help fix it. Basically, to get rid of me or at least my counterpart. Whichever works for you. Me, I want to take over this reality. My reality sucked. President Kerry is such a big pussy that when the big holocaust of '04 hit, I didn't get more than 8% of the souls. Here...I'm on tap for a record millenia. At least 59% coming my way. And with that size of an army, I can do just about whatever the fuck I want to."

**Cameron stands there, holding his jaw & staring back at Stan.**

Stan-"So big guy, you're gonna go back there & help little Maria with her problem & we're gonna live a long & very rich life."

**The words echo in his head. But they fall silent when he thinks of Kim & Zach. He looks down at the ground.**

Stan-"Ok then. Let's get you back. By the way, when I mentioned that Shadow & I are a lot alike...there is one galring difference between the two of us."

**PD looks at Stan.**

Stan-"You can't put a lot of stock into or trust Shadow."

**PD blinks & suddenly, he is staring at Maria.**

Maria-"You're not dead. You are too vital of a part of a greater plan. You see, the timestream that this earth exists in has been fractured & needs to be repaired. And only you can fix it."

**Her eyes shift from his eyes to his nose as she reaches into her pocket.**

Maria-"Cameron, your nose is bleeding."

**He reaches up & places his fingertips at the bottom of his nose & pulls them away, only to see blood.**

PD-"Son of a bitch."

**She walks up to him & hands him a rag. He takes it & wipes his nose. Behind her, they both hear Shadow grumbling. PD trots over to him as he pushes himself up to his knees.**

Shadow-"Somebody is one dead motherf..."

**Cameron delivers a roundhouse kick straight to Shadow's jaw, knocking him backwards & out again. He wheels around & sees Maria staring at him.**

PD-"Ok. You gotta place around here? And some rope? Cuz I've got a million questions and this guy to keep an eye on."

**Maria grins & nods, walking towards him.**

Maria-"It's right over here."
===========================

**A few hours have passed & the sun has set. A small campfire burns under the cloudless & star-filled night sky. Some kind fo animal slowing spins on a hand turned spit. Cameron looks over at Maria. The fire reflecting off her perfect olive skin & beautiful dark eyes. There are so many things he needs to know. He won't ask her about Stan, but he needs to know more about the comic book type cliffhanger she left him with an hour or so back. But Shadow needed to be tended to & then the light began to fall. Fire wood was needed as was dinner. Now, with a lapse in activites & quiet all around them, he lifts his head & begins to speak. Unfortunately...**

Shadow-"Someone needs to get in here & untie me or the repercussions & ramifications will be swift & painful!"

**PD glances over at Maria, who acts as if she heard nothing while cooking the animal. PD sighs & walks into the hut. A few moments, some inaudible grunts & whispered words later, Shadow emerges with his hands tied behind his back & PD walking behind him. Shadow jerks away & walks over to the other side of the campfire. PD shrugs toward Maria & sits down.**

Shadow-"You're lucky my mask is still on."

**PD stares at the specs of flame that break free from the fire & ascend into the night sky until they burn out.**

PD-"Lucks got nothing to do with it."

**Shadow remains standing, staring at PD.**

PD-"If I really wanted to know what your ugly mug looked like, I'd already know."

**Shadow stares at PD.**

PD-"And you know I'm right."

**Shadow pulls his hands out from behind his back as the ropes used to bind him drop to the ground.**

Shadow-"This whole buddy movie bullshit is about to end. So, you need to decide where we stand Cameron. Are you back on my side or are we enemies?"

**Cameron pulls his gaze away from the stars & over at Shadow.**

PD-"Sit down & shut up. You're lucky you're not dead right now. I've had plenty of time & more than enough oppotunity to do it while you've been unconscious."

**Shadow remains standing, but shifts his weight from one side to the other.**

Shadow-"Oh how gracious of you. So I guess then that you and I are on the same side again?"

**PD shakes his head.**

PD-"Nope. Actually, I'm just going to let you live long enough to help me extract some revenge on that warlord, or whatever the fuck he is. You know, the guy who wanted you dead, but took my wife & son instead. Then after I've gotten my revenge, we'll re-evaluate our situation."

**Shadow nods & looks down at the ground, making sure it's clear. He sits on the ground, looking across the fire at Cameron.**

Shadow-"I could have Yu & Ai here in a heartbeat & be gone. Why should I help you?'

**PD looks out through the top of his eyes at Shadow, slowly stretches his right arm out to his side & holds his palm side up & flat. A moment later, a ball of fire forms on his palm & remains there, like it's floating a mere inches above his skin. Sweat instantly forms on Cameron's brow & he squeezes his fist close, snuffing out the fireball. Shadow grins beneath his mask & applauds.**

Shadow-"I could do that trick in the 1st grade."

**PD nods his head & grins.**

PD-"Yeah, but I can do that trick inside your skull without moving an inch. And after the flames licking your brain died down, you'd act like you were in 1st grade. Forever."

**Cameron was bullshitting. But as of a moment ago, he'd never tried to create a fireball in the palm of his hand...atleast not by just thinking about it. So who knows he thought, maybe he could do that inside Shadow's skull. He'd hoped he would never need to find out. Shadow smiles & nods.**

Shadow-"So then...friends close."

PD-"And enemies closer."

fadeout

*Beepbeep........beepbeep........beepbeep.......*
*Beepbeep.................beepbeep.................beepbeep...........*

*Beepbeep........beepbeep........beepbeep.......*
*Beepbeep............beepbeep............beepbeep...........*

*Beepbeep........beepbeep........beepbeep.......*
*Beepbeep........beepbeep........beepbeep.......*



Two hearts beat as one. Two different souls in two different beds bound to similar fates. Two bodies both ripped with pain and frustration, inside and out. Two lives so different, yet so similar...


David Hardy struggled, but his feet were bound to the chair. The room started to glow a bright orange as everything in sight seemed to catch on fire.

"God fucking dammit..." Hardy groaned.

He quickly reached down and grabbed the hacksaw just in reach. Without hesitation, he began to saw at the handcuffs. He should have shot the bastard when he had the chance. Either that, or shot the damn handcuffs.

"SAW MOTHERFUCKER!!!!" Hardy screamed.

The thin hacksaw blade struggled to cut through the handcuff chain. After nearly five minutes, the chain broke and Hardy's right foot was free! He wasted to time to get to the next one, sawing away. Every few seconds, he would look up at Lita to make sure she was alright. She wouldn't be for long. Black smoke began to cloud the room.


The young man in the hospital bed groaned in his sleep, breathing heavily. Fortunately, he wasn't in terrible condition, and would be fine in a matter of time. The woman next to him was just as bad though, maybe worse. At least she didn't suffer any burns. Luckily help had arrived in time or they would have been killed. They had both been unconcious for nearly a day at this point, though not for much longer.



"COME ON DAMMIT!!!!" Hardy roared at the saw.

He coughed loudly as the smoke engulfed him, floating into his lungs. Again, he looked up towards Lita, but could not see her this time. He panicked and pressed harder with the saw, creating sparks. Then things went from bad to worse: the hacksaw broke! Hardy stared down at it in disbelief. His muscles tensed and he began to shake with rage.

"THAT'S IT! I HAVE HAD IT WITH THIS MOTHERFUCKIN SHIT FROM MOTHERFUCKIN LUPELLI!!!" he shouted, "fuck this!!"

With a sudden jerk, Hardy lunged forward towards the door. His weak left leg dragged behind him thanks to the chair he was still cuffed to. He wasn't about to let that slow him down, though. With loud groans he pulled the chair along with him, the cuffs pressing hard against his skin. A sudden gust of flames blew up beside him as something exploded, causing the curtains before him to blaze. With no regard for his own well being, he brushed aside the fiery material with his bare forearm. He didn't even notice the fire searing his skin as he finally got Lita back in his sight.

"Thank God..." he sighed in relief, momentarily forgetting about the chaos behind him.

He reached over the edge of the balcony and grabbed Lita. He held tightly to her and undid the rope before the fire could reach her or burn through the rope completely. Although she was unconcious, her arms seemed to wrap around him for support. Her breathing was soft, but steady. Fortunately, Lupelli did no further damage to her after nearly crushing her chest earlier. Time stood still for a few moments and he squeezed her tightly, not even realizing what he was doing.

"We're gonna get you out of here..." he whispered to her.

He turned back and entered the room, holding Lita's head gingerly to make sure she doesn't get burned. Hardy moved slowly through the burning wreckage, seeing a clear path to the door through the puffs of smoke. Only twenty more feet and they would be safe. Hardy leaned forward to try and get some momentum but the chair behind him ended that quickly. He didn't see that the ceiling was on fire. He could hear the wooden structure of the room groan and shift. He couldn't worry about that, however, he needed to get them to safety.

Suddenly a large piece of wood broke off from the ceiling. The burning support beam fell down, crashing directly onto the chair Hardy was breaking. The chair exploded into dozens of pieces but tightened the cuff on Hardy's ankle. He let out a scream.


"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!"

David Hardy sat up suddenly. His eyes took a few moments for his eyes to focus. Looking around the area, he realized that he was in a hospital room, though different from the previous one. He could hear a pulse monitor beeping quickly, then noticed the small gizmo on his finger. He pulled it off and the annoying beeping stopped. His arm brushed against the side of the bed and he winced, pulling his burned, bandaged arm back.

"What the hell?" he moaned.

It was then he realized that his whole upper body was covered with red blotches and peeling skin. Whatever, he though, skin heals. Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he looked at Lita. She looked so peaceful and calm. Amazing, she was completely unharmed by the fire incident. Hardy smiled, knowing he must have done something wrong. He hopped off the bed and landed on the floor, though he quickly hobbled onto one foot. His left ankle was wrapped up and he could see blood stains through the gauze.


Hardy roared as he kicked the burning pieces of chair away from his leg. The impact of the crash left him flat on the ground, though he still held on tightly to his friend. He could feel blood running down his ankle as the cuffs had been tighted after the impact. Good luck did swing his way, however, as the chair leg was broken and he was no longer connected to the heavy peice of furniture. He tried getting to his feet, but his ankle was in too much pain to stand on it.

"Just a bit further..." he whispered in pain to Lita, who remained unconcious.

He pushed his way to the doorway, but it was too late. The whole way to the door had been completely engulfed in flames. Hardy cursed and looked for an alternative, seeing only the balcony, though all that laid below was the three stories and pavement. The room flashed with orange and red of the flames between the black clouds of smoke. In the distance, he heard something, though. A siren.

"Firetrucks!" he exlaimed with relief in his voice, "we're gonna be okay..."

Suddenly, something exploded from behind him, sending a burst of flames into him, knocking him forward into the corner and onto Lita. He was suddenly dizzy and felt like he was going to pass out. The extreme burning pain in his back didn't help either as he struggled to stay concious. The fire raged even more now, completely surrounding him and Lita in the corner. By either instincts or just fluke luck, Hardy reached onto the counter beside them and pulled down a large moist towel he had used earlier to pat Lita with. He huddled over Lita and threw the towel over the two of them. He closed his eyes tightly and clutched her as he heard the commotion behind him. All he could hope for was that help would arrive in time...


David Hardy reached behind himself and touched his own back. A sudden stinging jolted him and he lurched forward, losing balance due to his ankle. If he could see his bare back, he'd see a gross, burned mess. Nothing bad enough to require any form of operation, but enough to look terrible and hurt like a bitch. With a wince, he sat down on Lita's bed and looked down at her through tired, weary eyes.

"I'm so sorry that you had to go through all this..." he sighed.

She, of course, did not respond, still being far behind the wall of sleep. Hardy simply stared at her caressing her cheek softly. Her long red hair flowed across the pillow, creating a fiery frame for her face. She looked so peaceful, there's no way anyone could tell what she had just gone through. Her breathing was alot normal that it had been earlier, maybe due to the epinephrine injections the doctor had been giving her to increase her heart low rate. Hardy noticed the labled needle on a tray with liquid still inside it. He knew about the stuff with the slang name "adrenaline shot." But had never seen it before for real. Nonchalantly, he picked it up and stared at it, several idea running through his head. Could it help before a big match? With a smirk, Hardy hid it under his own pillow. He turned back to Lita.

"I promise you, Lita," Hardy said softly, "I'm going to make Lupelli bleed for what he did. No... I'll fucking kill him for what he did to you... to us..."

Silence.

Hardy laughed to himself, "I dunno why I even bother talking to you, since you're clearly not there."

He sighed and smiled, still looking down at her. For someone in a hospital after a few near death experiences, she sure did look beautiful. Hardy simply just couldn't look away, as weird as it was to stare. He leaned forward and rested beside her, brushing her hair away from her face.

"If only you could hear all the things I have to tell you..." he whispered.

He gulped and leaned towards her again, looking into her expressionless face.

"I don't know when you'll come to but..." he sighed, "I don't know what's going to happen with the Lupelli thing now. He's clearly not afraid to kill me so I can't promise that I'll make it to next week. I... I just..."

Hardy groaned to himself and moved his head towards hers. He placed a hand on her cheek and shook his head softly. With a nervous breath, he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. A warm feeling took over his chest as he kissed her for the very first time. Something he had wanted for many years now and didn't want to stop.

"Excuse me sir, but I don't believe there is any need for mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. She seems to be breathing just fine."

Hardy jumped up in shock and stumbled off of the bed, taking out the sidetray and all it's contents. After a few seconds, Hardy pulled himself up to his feet and pointed a plastic fork at the man in the doorway.

"Good to see you weren't effected too badly by the fire," said the man, Dr. Martinez.

Hardy let out a sigh of relief and threw the fork aside, he nodded at Lita, " when is she going to be okay?"

Dr. Martinez chuckled, "It looks like you've already taken care of her."

Hardy scowled, looking un impressed.

Martinez shrugged, "it looks like she'll only need to be hear a few days longer. The chest injury is much better after the simple surgery we performed, and somehow she didn't get burned. Say, any ide wha that was all about anyway Any idea what's the deal with the fire and the cadcuffs they found in tha room?"

Hardy remained silent for a short while befor shrugging, "must be punk teenagers."

"Fucking kids..." Martinez muttered, "to regard for anybody's property."

"So can we get out of here?" Hardy asked, "we've got placed to go."

Hardy didn't feel the small, semi-concious female hand brush against his.

"I'm afraid not yet," said Martinez, "just for precautionary reasons, we're gonna need you to stay for a few more days."

"Fine," Hardy muttered, "she can stay but I have some stuff to take care of..."

Martinex nodded, "if you think you're capable, I can't legally keep you here, so you're free to go whenever you like. Before you go, however, would you like to be fitted with a wig? I know many people are self concious about that sort of thing."

Hardy raised an eyebrow, "wha?"

Martinez looked up to the top of Hardy's head and gestured.

Hardy scowled and placed his head on top of his head. All he could feel was his scalp. In disbelief, he patted his head with both hands just to feel skin.

"Where's my hair!?" he panicked, "where is my fucking hair!!!???"

The shit hit the fan.