<center>




</center>

"Ladies and gentlemen! This next match up is scheduled for one fall."

The night had been long in Glasgow, and the house show had delivered all that the TCW fans had come to expect from the Twisted crew. High-flying action, big brawls, great promos and two stables at each other's throats, now it was time for the main event though and this Events had caused a bit of a buzz, everyone in the arena knew that Jason Dante was in a wheelchair with a fractured neck and that his career was all but ended. They had all been disappointed when they found this out . But this match was something they saw as a redeeming thing, they would get to see and vent their spleens on the man who had stolen the titles from Dante, they would tonight show Highone how Scotland and the Scots "welcome" a thief and a cheater.

"Introducing first..."

Highone's music played and he walked out flanked by his accomplice and partner in both tag and crime, Desean Blackwell. The crowd was loud beyond words, they were throwing the worst insults at Highone who paraded with the stolen belts as if nothing even made a dent in his confidence, he posed and played to the crowd that was beyond their wits from anger. The show of confidence from Blackwell and Highone was made a bit less stylish by the fans hurling beer cans and spitting at them as they walked to the ring, this crowd was Highone decided with a grin was not an Infinity crowd in any way.

"...Holding the ECF and 411fed world championship belts..."

Highone groaned, he had TOLD Eubanks to announce him as the champion...heads, Highone decided would roll.

"..accompanies to the ring by Desean Blackwell...this is HIGHONE!"

He entered the ring and climbed the turn-buckles to celebrate and to once more show the titles off. After a few more seconds of soaking up the wild and enraged reception, Highone descended and waited for his...opponent.

"And his opponent..."

A huge X covered the Twisted-tron and "Mother" began to play as Jay Ecks made his way towards the ring, he got a few token cheers and a few chants as he was in many ways Dante's replacement in this match. Quicker then Highone entered the ring he entered it and walked up to Highone and stood face to face with the man, showing no fear at all.

"This is Jay ECKS!"

Ecks smirked and turned around to take of his jacket when Highone struck as the bell rung. Highone unleashed a series of punches, thrusts and kicks that staggered Dante's friend backwards towards the corner. Ecks took a deep breath and shot off a few hard, power laden punches that staggered Highone, but the Infinity man once more gained the advantage with his kicks and martial skills. Highone acted as if he was fighting a child and added insults to each attack to provoke and hurt Ecks with his words as well as with his feet and hands. Desperate, Ecks trieed to fight back but one overextended punch brought Highone into position and he jams his hand onto a pressure point in the lower back that made Ecks knees bend and the big man drop to his knees in the middle of the ring.

In front of the jeering crowd, Highone played with Ecks throwing fake kicks and grazing blows to annoy the large man. Then without a word of warning he fireed off a furious kick that busted Ecks' eyebrow open and broke his nose in one move. A punch that sealsedhis eye closed followed and as Highone stood there poised to deliver the killing blow.

****

"Are you sure about this?"

"Of course I am, I would never let Jay sacrifice himself like that if there was no reason for it, Highone has a great deal to pay for and Jay's blood on his hands will be the least of his trouble when I get hold of him."

The woman nodded.

"Ok, then I guess it's showtime."

"Fucking yeah it is showtime."

****

Ecks looked up at Highone through his half shut eye and a grin spread on his face, a grin that would haunt Highone's nightmares for weeks to come. The grin then turned into a short and grim laugh and then Ecks spoke.

"You've laid your hands on a Hellfire Club member Highone, the first time we could forgive but this one will be your undoing."

Highone stared at the bleeding and bruised Ecks as he sat on his knees in the ring, Infinity had set this whole thing in motion and he knew the end of the plan would be him raising his hands at the PPV each holding a title, his ascent to champion completed for real. Dante was out and in his place was this rookie who was in over his head against a warrior like Highone.

But Ecks grin was eating a hole in Highone's mind...and the female voice that followed was even more painful for the man who had already counted on becoming the champion. Selenia had joined the party just as Ecks showed his NHFC credentials.

"Highone! Ecks is right, you WILL pay for your actions against Dante and Ecks...we are the New Hellfire Club and..."

She turned and pointed to the entrance ramp and with triumph in her voice she said "...now you will meet the NHFC's weapon of vindication!"

As the words left her mouth, all lights in the arena, even the signs above emergency exits died down. In the total and eye torment darkness, the fans could be heard chanting something but it was lost in the chaos of the complete darkness. Then suddenly a strange drumbeat started and the lights above the entrance began to flicker.

On the Twisted-Tron (tm) the word: "Lust" flashed by followed by the words "Rage", "Contempt" and finally "VINDICATION".

Then the drum beat stopped and Darkness settled on the arena once more but only for about 5 seconds before a new drum beat started. This time the screen of the Twisted-Tron showed an inferno of flames.

As the flames roared and the drumbeat continued a name began to circulate among the fans and spread like wildfire, many had bought their tickets to this house show to see this man and now he was here they thought.

Can you feel that?

A guitar added it's "voice" to the drum beat as the words "Aqeuitas" and "Veritas" Flashed by on the screen.

The name passing among the assembled fans grows louder as those words appeared. The Crowd acts as if they are frightened that speaking the name will break the spell.

Ah Shit.


Ooo Ah Ah Ah


As the song kicks off and the lyrics start, the flames on the screen start to change and take the shape of a man and as they do a circle of fire erupts from the entrance way floor and stretch 2 meters into the air. As the shape of a man is complete on the screen the words "Nemo me impune lecessit appear in blazing text.

In the ring, Highone realises what is about to happen but his mind can't really cope with it, he knows who will be standing in the burning circle once the flames die down but at the same time he knows it is impossible.

Drowning deep in my sea of loathing
Broken your servant I kneel
(Will you give in to me?)
It seems what's left of my human side
Is slowly changing in me
(Will you give in to me?)

The flames in the circle die down and a man dressed in a black coat with a hood obscuring his face is seen, this man draws a huge cheer from the fans who are still hesitant to accept the miracle and speak the man's name. The text on the screen slowly morphs into a phrase everyone in the arenas knows. As the text slowly becomes clear, Highone screams a "NO!" in anger and desperation.


Looking at my own reflection
When suddenly it changes
Violently it changes (oh no)
There is no turning back now
You've woken up the demon in me

"I am the god of Hellfire!" Echoes across the arena and as the words "You've woken up the demon in me" ring across the same air, the hooded man throws his hood back and his platinum blonde hair and his snow-white skin causes a near religious cheer in the arena and now at first the fans dare to chant his name and do so with the kind of power that made the Walls of Jericho crumble according to the bible.

Get up, come on get down with the sickness
Get up, come on get down with the sickness
Get up, come on get down with the sickness
Open up your hate, and let it flow into me
Get up, come on get down with the sickness
You mother get up come on get down with the sickness
You fucker get up come on get down with the sickness
Madness is the gift, that has been given to me

As the fires around him die down Selenia walks up to his side and she removes the black coat from him to reveal the normal trademark white attire underneath it. Slowly he begins to walk towards the ring and a Highone who stands as if frozen in the ring watching the impossible coming towards him with a sharks grin on his face and vengeance in his eyes. As he reaches the first rows of fans, he takes of in a mad sprint towards the ring.

I can see inside you, the sickness is rising
Don't try to deny what you feel
(Will you give in to me?)
It seems that all that was good has died
And is decaying in me
(Will you give in to me?)

As he reaches the ring he slides into it and gets up to a position where he sits on one knees with his gaze on the canvas before him. Highone's paralysis has been broken and he is no moving away from the man in the ring. As Highone's adversary raises his gaze, Highone thinks he can see a strange red flickering light in his eyes as the scarred albino looks up at him with vindication written across his pale face.

It seems you're having some trouble
In dealing with these changes
Living with these changes (oh no)
The world is a scary place
Now that you've woken up the demon in me

Outside of the ring, Desean Blackwell has picked up the belts Highone stole from his adversary as the chants of the man's name grows stronger by the second Blackwell feels as if the belts are turning hot and are scorching his hands.

Without taking his eyes off of Highone, the man reaches his full height and motions to the title thief to give him his belts back. As the colourless eyes of the albino is burning a hole into what Highone suspects is his soul, the spell seems to break and a smirk spreads on his lips, he motions to Blackwell to toss the belts to him and he does.

As the music dies down, Highone stands in the middle of the ring with the belts he stole in his hands staring the man who when he last saw him was about a cunt-hair from being a vegetable, now he is back at full health in some way Highone doesn't understand and wants nothing to do with. As the smirk grows wider on Highone's face, the albino reaches into his pocket and pulls out a microphone speaks.

"No matter how much you polish those title belts, no matter how much you pose and preen while holding them. You are not the champion and..."

The chants from the crowd drown him out as the fans hear his crystal clear rasp-free voice. The chant of his name are so loud that all across the arena people actually cover their ears as the chant grows louder.

"DANTE! DANTE! DANTE! DANTE! DANTE! DANTE! DANTE! DANTE! DANTE! DANTE!"
He smiles.

"...and as long as I draw breath, you will never be the champion."

Highone's smiles turns a bit stale as the albino has lost none of his confidence, the time in a wheelchair and the attack seems to have boosted it instead, he had been broken but now he had returned stronger then ever.

"I won those belts from a man whose shoes you are not worthy to even look at, a man I have more respect for then anyone in this world, I bled, I sweat and I cried to win those belts...do you think a theft means anything?"

Dante didn't give him time to answer.

"Actually it does, it means that you set my sights on you, it means that I will pry those stolen belts out of your cold stale and dead hands...for that theft Highone, I will DRAG YOU TO HELL KICKING AND SCREAMING!"

Highone felt that verbal assault as if it had been a kick to the stomach, but as the veteran warrior he is he held the reaction back so that he didn't show any weakness.

"But for now, I'll let you play the champion Highone, I'll let you see what those belts bring, I'll let you feel the weight and the importance that will NEVER be yours..."

Then Dante turns his back on the Infinity man to help his friend Ecks up to his feet, the cheer of the crowd is something Highone doesn't even hear, as something in Dante's tone of voice told him that dragging him to hell was something Dante was very serious about.

Dante, Selenia and a bruised and bloodied Ecks leave as the crowd cheers for the returning Jason Dante.

As he is about to pass through the curtain he stops and turns to the fans and lifts the mic again, the words he says are destined for legend, he smiles as says.

"Broken...no more!"

*****

"FUCK!"

Highone threw a chair against a wall in his frustration.

"I told you you were taking him too easily Highone." Shadow said.

"Bullshit, nothing but Bullshit Shadow! You saw the X-Rays, you saw the result of me kicking his crippled ass around, he was a cripple, he was a vegetable waiting to happen...FUCK!"

Highone shattered a glass-sculpture in the penthouse suite he had arranged for him to have. Hardy frowned. Irritated by his partners glare Highone got into his face.

"What was that Dave? Do you think we should have set you up to face Date huh?"

Hardy scoffed.

"Unlike you Highone, I don't like to pretend things anymore, if I wanted those titles..I would..."

"You would have done the same fucking thing Dave...the same fucking thing...Just look at these Irish idiots in the crowd today...did you hear how they chanted his name? It was as if he was the second fucking coming....FUCK!"

The insomniac had as always been on the outside of any Infinity meeting but now he inserted himself into the "debate".

"I think you are forgetting that you are actually doing Dante a service by acting like this...we have both faced him before and we both know him to be nearly impossible to bring off balance...By acting like a child..." Ti spat out the last words to get Highone's attention "You play straight into his and the NHFC's hands...this si supposed to be our show, out home, our day of victory..."

He strode up to Highone and got in his face.

"Don't disrupt that by acting like a five year old..."

Highone could only take TI's gaze for a few seconds, then he sat down and shook his head.

"I'm sorry, I...I just was so sure this would be easy."

The Insomniac looked at him and sighed.

"You know them as well as I and the rest of us do...easy is not an option."

*****
"So did ya' set this whole mess up, eh?" Spike asked.

"In a way, yes I did." Razor shot back.

"Nice, I like that."

Razor rolled over on her side and looked at Spike.

"I thought you'd like that...now tell me why don't you like Dante."

"Well the wanker is a typical rich arsehole...typical fuckin' nob...bastard ya know..."

Razor knew there was more to Spike's hate of the albino but she just laughed her purring laugh.

"So what do you think about this Highone character?"

"Oh, him...well he's wanker too...fucking prick."

Razor smiled..."I kind of like him...or his kind at least, so full of fury at themselves...they taste sweet."

"Heh...yeah I guess..." Spike began. "Are ya gonna try to snare him with this Rachelle bitch?"

Razor smiled her contagious grin.

"Fucking yeah I will."

Spike smiled and when he spoke again the cockney was gone from his voice.

"Speaking of fucking..."

"Oh yeah..." Razor replied as they returned to what they had been doing before.

A roaring fireplace filled the room with heat. Two logs sizzled and hissed in its fury. But the caged flames were not alone, for their brother and their sister consumed the hearts of the two soulmates wrapped in sheet-covered embrace. Dante and Selenia looked deeply into each others' eyes. Their pale skin melted together like two scoops of Vanilla ice cream on a day warmed by their love.

Selenia: What are we doing Jason?

Dante: Laying here.

Selenia: What are YOU doing Jason...what are you doing...

Dante: I'm afraid I don't understand.

Selenia: You know she will go after Highone again. You brought her into his life.

Dante: Why should I care? Let her use him against me. That scum deserves whatever he gets. I'm certainly not afraid of him.

Selenia: But she will consume ever fiber of his being...and not just him, but those he cares for...my love, you know better than anyone...

Her remark caught Dante offguard, something Selenia's words sometimes did for different reasons. He did know the depths of Lilith's evil all too well. She was a sculptor of destruction melded with a gentle kiss. But compassion for Highone? The infinite dirtbag who attacked him and stole what he'd fought so hard to win? It didn't seem likely.

Selenia: I sense your discontent Jason. But it's not your opponent you should think about. It's the innocent....she will go at him through someone he's close to...you know this is true...

Again the actual World Champion winced slightly. He looked at the beautiful figure before him. Dante could not help but feel a twinge of pain at the thought of anyone enduring what he fought against. Selenia was the only thing in the world that mattered to him. No person, not even one as seemingly twisted as Highone, deserved the fate Lilith hoped to deliver.


---

The sound of a clock ticking was the only iota of sound breaking the room's stark silence. Burgundy curtains adorned with Celtic knots weaved in golden thread were drawn together, edges overlapping to block out any hint of sunlight. No drop of the day's offerings could be allowed, no reflection could be risked. It would only make their allure that much more potent.

Highone sat on the edge of his rental house's still-made bed. He hadn't caught more than twenty-two winks since departing Glasgow for Belfast. No red-eye flight or bumpy train ride had prevented his slumber. Words still danced throughout his head like savages around a ceremonial flame. Each phrase from Insomniac's black lips and silver tongue, their intent to mend, had become a spear-tip; every line from Dante showed a bloodthirst beyond the standard trappings of any ancient tribe, even the kind as old as Jason's. And there were the titles...

Try as he might, the man who'd never held any federations' World Championship could not forget the two objects criss-crossing his lap. Highone rubbed his fingers over the faces of each, tracing the etchings and minute knicks from years of service to 411Fed and ECF. He looked down at the hint of greenish-black paint beneath his trimmed fingernails, then turned away, wasting little time before sheepishly wiping it off on the comforter beneath him.

They were fraternal twins of which there was no "good" one...only evil. Their faces seemed to tell a different story. One of fortune and glory; a story steeped in history and painted with the stroke of giants in the industry. But the tale beneath their surfaces was one of a far different nature. It spoke of muscle being torn from bone, of blood spilled, of broken bodies and betrayed alliances. Whispers of the potential for pain grew louder with every rung up the ladder till they became screams of agony. Men were reduced to children over the weight of materials worth little more than a paycheck or two.

"What have I become?"

He had sacrificed so much to get to this point in the federation. Months of fighting his way to contendership had turned into years. His being ached, a sensation fortunately eased by self-medication. His only other opportunity had come with a willingness to put his newly won Bleeder Championship on the line against then-champion Coren. The loss had not only turned Highone into an afterthought when it came to the trademark title's lineage, but also sent him into a downward spiral that seemed to have the same destination in mind as where Jason Dante had expressed a desire to take him. The fact he'd won the Bleeder strap from Dante was a bit of irony not lost on Highone.

Regardless of what had been before, now came Apeirophobia. The Mary Jane Martial Artist had once vowed to never forfeit anything again for a chance to win TCW's biggest prize. Yet here he sat in a darkened room, macbre thoughts racing through his mind, having stolen something from a former quadripalegic. Honor had once been a founding principle to Highone, yet it was the one set of riches no thief possessed. The attacks on the New Hellfire Club, and the non-Infinity champions, had been good for business. They'd brought fat house show attendance checks and six-digit royalties, but at what price?

And even beyond the emotional effect of obtaining the championships there had been a superficial one. Having to check the metallic objects through security points for example. A group of tourists in the Dublin airport who had no idea who he was, yet ended up delaying him for thirty minutes just to take a few pictures. A drunken Scottish rugby player, whose shattered ego now matched the bridge of his nose, had thought he could push around a professional wrestler. Women who wanted him to sign their brea-....well, the belts had some perks. But overall they had been baggage not even the TCW travel agency could lose for him.

The still of the room was broken up by the vibration and flashing of Highone's touchscreen cellphone laying on the floor. He looked down at its face and stopped reading after the letter "R". It was nothing against Rachelle. Their conversations had been a little sparse since Havoc but it was understandable. Both had hectic schedules. She had been able to sense the trouble in his voice, though of course at the time Highone had tried to convince her otherwise. The beautiful brunette was the one person he longed to see and yet the individual he couldn't face at the moment. He could barely look himself in the mirror, let alone into her eyes or risk any hint of disapproval in her smile.

Frustration quickly turned to rage! Highone stood up, grabbing the championships in the process, and cocked his arm back preparing to throw a gold-and-platinum dart into the cottage wall. He took a few deep breaths, slowly lowering his arm along with his head. The championships had brought so many people agony. Not just himself, but former holders and even the innocent like Selenia. Or, as Highone had began to fear, possibly Rachelle. But desire as he might to destroy the things, any hate for the shiny oversized beltbuckles was counter-balanced by the sick fascination their draw created.

Highone tossed them face down onto the bed. Their spell seemed to momentarily be broken. Along with it seemed to be his emotional state. He rubbed at his eyes, then dashed from the room, a light regional shower masking any tears that might have slipped through. A man some dubbed as Infinity's captain was a rudderless ship at the moment, blindly running full-steam into unchartered waters. Highone wasn't sure how to get where he was going. All he had was a destination. A clear mind.

----

Eyelids covering pools of the sweetest chocolate squinted in frustration. Rachelle Leah clicked her phone off and looked at her surroundings. Belfast City Airport was a living "Where's Waldo" book. The hustle and bustle of people in and out, many of whom only spoke a handful of words she could understand, seemed to ebb and flow like the tide with every new arrival. It wasn't the brunette's first time flying alone but certainly her maiden voyage to Northern Ireland.

Her intent had been to surprise Highone in hopes of lifting his spirits prior to his big show. The beautiful entertainer thought she'd planned everything out. Rachelle had even watched a number of Dante's old matches on the long flight overseas in hopes of perhaps offering some advice. The one thing Rachelle DIDN'T expect was for Highone to not be answering her calls once she'd touched down. Still, she knew where the aspiring World Champion was staying thanks to a connection and was well-equipped to take care of transportation on her own. Her bubblegum pink-frosted lips smiled as the thought of his expression when Highone unexpectedly saw her. It would come to pass that the eventual look on his face upon seeing her would be that of surprise of a far different nature, but those who could have predicted such a thing were few in number. Two to be exact.

"Miss Leah?"

Rachelle turned her head towards the surprisingly recognizable British voice. She nodded in acknowledgement. Before her stood a somewhat nervous looking man with a sign reading her name. It appeared as though someone had sent a driver in anticipation of her visit.

"...'ello love, TCW sent me to pick you up...give you a hop over to his living quaters and such..."

It seemed legitimate enough. Who else could have known she would be here? The muscular chaueffeur took her luggage, the hint of a tattooed arm peaking out from beneath the cuff of his white sleeve. He looked up and offered a broad grin. She returned with a lesser smile.

Rachelle: How long of a ride is it?

"Not too bad at all. Just a hop into the Irish countryside. A bit bumpy though..."

Rachelle: Sounds good, let me make a quick phone call first to tell my friend I found a ride.

A women with an oil-slick colored ponytail stepped up behind the expectant passenger. A glint of pure evil twinkled in her deadset eyes.

A bumpy ride indeed...

----

The basic white T-Shirt Highone had thoughtlessly, carelessly ran from his room in was now clinging to every centimeter, UK mathematical terms withstanding, of his muscular frame. The rain had soaked him to the bone. Were he able to feel anything but the burning of his muscles he might have been shivering from the 27-degree dusk. But such physical sensations were of little consequence at the moment. Steam erupted from his nostrils like a bull in a Bugs' Bunny cartoon with every slowing pound of his Adidas on the farm road. The pebble-laden mud slipped from beneath his feet. He ran until he could run no more, eventually collapsing onto his hands and knees. Tiny streams of blood, browned from the countryside it carved miniscule tributaries in, ran into the nearby grass. Highone turned to his right and vomited.

He looked up to the sky, wiping his hands on his damp sweatpants, then brushed any remaining fluid away from his mouth with his forearm. The exhausted wrestler slowly stood to his feet. He put his hands on his hips and sucked wind for a few minutes. Highone lowered his head in defeat, as if the hill he was running had literally won with a dusty finish. He turned and began a humdrum pace back to his lodging. He felt the disgust that might radiate from his Infinity stablemates were they to see him in such a condition. Lucky for him they were busy handling their own affairs.

Highone wondered how he would be able to tolerate the days remaining before Apeirophobia. Hardy had been penciled into the AfterShock match to much surprise so he was busy getting his hands on gold. DeSean was in the same boat, though with a far greater task ahead of him in the form of Matt Strikmore. Fortunately the Pure Rules would favor Blackwell. And it was a forgone conclusion that Insomniac, Hammer, and Shadow had their hands full with the frightening concotion created in Acid Misfit, Joyride, and the infamous Darkness.

It was in that very second a strange thing happened. The rain stopped, if only for a few minutes. But it stopped. A small patch of clouds squinted open enough to reveal a hint of sunlight. It beamed through as if curious again to greet the world it had known since the dawn of time. This tiny bit of nature's simplicity somehow brought a bit of focus to Highone's mind. In his life which seemed so cloudy even the smallest bit of sunshine could overcome the rest. He thought of Rachelle's call. He thought about the opportunity to reach the pinnacle of the sport. His gait began to suddenly increase and the returning rain washed any dismay from his brow. You could chalk it up to the downhill slope, but Highone actually made it back to his rented cottage in faster time than to the spot where his moment of clarity had occurred...and moment of hurling.

The door burst open and Highone ripped his waterlogged clothes off, quickly replacing them with a thick dry towel. He looked down at his phone and noticed two missed calls. She had rung him twice. The aspiring champion held the device up to his wet ear as the voicemails played.

"Hey...it's me...I could use a lift from the airport...yeah punk, I know you probably are wondering why I'm asking YOU of all people for one...I'll explain when you call me back!"..........."Hey, nevermind...turns out TCW sent a car...such a big time organzation you guys got here...*snicker*....on my way to see you so ya better be ready!

He thought to himself, "On her way to see me? And why would TCW send a car? Shadow's people would have made sure it was a secure Infinity-ready vehicle..." A look of concern, not anger, immediately defined his disposition.

Highone: DANTE!!!

"That won't work."

Darkness spun around to see his team mate and friend enter the room just as he was pouring himself a scotch of giant proportions. Dante limped a bit after his ordeal but seemed fine otherwise, he nodded at the bottle of Tullamore Dew in Darkness hand.

"Are you trying to steal my trademark drink, Darkness?" Dante said with a grin that was returned by Darkness.

"No, Sometimes a man has to indulge a bit just for the hell of it."

Dante smirked again, Darkness had changed a great deal since the two of them had buried the hatchet after End Game, finding a way for two former enemies like them to co-exist had not been easy, there were older scores between these two men then between anyone in the fed...save between Dante and Misfit maybe, Dante had committed a fair few heartless and unfriendly deeds against Darkness that would have caused any man with less control over his actions to go berserk with uncontrolled rage...but then again, uncontrolled rage had never been Darkness thing, not until he acted like a bulldozer running through Infinity's locker room a few night ago at least..

Dante sighed, it was impossible to stay so deep inside another man's mind as he and Darkness had done inside each other's without a deep understanding starting to form, Dante had seen the depths to which Darkness despair of his dead wife and lost daughter still tortured him inside. Darkness had seen Dante's life, so empty of real love and so devoid of affection until that day when Selenia entered his mind. In short these two men were the very definition of friends, they knew eachother inside and out and still remained friends.

"Yeah, I know." Dante began. "You should just know that it probably won't affect you at all...I tried to drink a distillery dry when Selenia..." the voice of the albino still got a strange tang of raw emotion whenever he mentioned her absence from his side "...was taken away from me."

The smile returned.

"And it took about seven bottles of Glenfiddich for me to understand that my system took down the alcohol as fast as I could snap my fingers."

Dante snapped his fingers in an effort to seem pedagogic.

Darkness laughed a short laugh.

"Don't you ever sleep Jason?"

"Not tonight, I had some business to take care of some strange stuff..."

Darkness arched his eyebrow.

"No big deal, just a lower exec at Meditech wanting to set up a meeting with me soon." Dante said pushing the strange parts of the request away, there were he decided more pressing matters to attend to.

"That doesn't answer my question, Jason."

"No...no it doesn't. The answer is pretty mundane...I simply don't really need to sleep any more, Lucifer's DNA keeps me awake and healthy no matter how long I go without sleep, these days I only go to bed to read or to spend time with Selenia..." Dante let his voice cut off rather then trail off to reveal that no matter how little his demonic side bothered him now, he still felt as if he was missing out on being a human.

Darkness nodded.

"It seems it could be a good thing for us at this point..."

"Yeah, still...the argument earlier today bothers me a fair bit, it's not the way I saw the club working."

Darkness shrugged.

"Well to be honest, we all know that Misfit, Hawthorne and Acolyte still are a bit new to the world we live in. You, me, Selenia and Freya have an advantage in that we were born to this world. If that didn't cause a bit of friction I would be worried."

Dante nodded, Darkness was probably right. Half of the club was made of of people who in a way had gotten caught up in the web spun by Seth, Lillith, Lucifer or any of the other players in the war in Hell. Acolyte was a devout man who didn't exactly look like the good Christian he tried to be, Hawthorne was strange as he was from a different time almost and Misfit...Dante still didn't like the fact that Gideon Flint was one of them, he could accept it but every time the punk opened his mouth Dante felt like punching his lights out. Somewhere deep down, Dante was sure this would come to a head sooner or later...He just hoped he would be the winner when the shit hit the fan.

"So.." Dante began. "...You're not worried?"

Darkness looked up from his glass and said.

"No, Iam worried."


The car sped on through the Northern Irish countryside. Rachelle hadn't asked who the black haired lady who looked to about a year or two older then herself was or why she was going along on this ride. She sighs as the flight to Northern Ireland had been dull and boring, she takes this all in stride as she knows that one look at Highone will make all the pain and boredom go away. She looks out at the green but somehow still sterile and desolate landscape outside Belfast and sighs again.

Her life had been strange, according to herself and few other's at least. Here she was a UFC spokes person, a position she knew she had landed because of her looks, not her brains. The UFC big wigs had gone as far as to tell her that they needed a pretty face to promote the fight shows, the target audience was males in the 15-35 age group, after all, the actions of people in that gap of 20 odd years, hormones the deciding factor..

She sighed again mostly because her mind tended to run around a fair bit unless it was stimulated, she did miss Highone as he was good at keeping her mind occupied, the guy was an enigma to everyone it seemed, but then again she though, so was she.

Some would say she had wasted her collage education on being a pretty face, but she knew that in the competition between large brain and a pretty face, the pretty face was the opening for any woman possessing it. She had plenty of both good locks and mental capabilities. Her parents had encouraged her and her siblings to get an education, her father had been especially supportive of her plan to graduate and get a degree in business. At the same time he had been the one who had backed her up in her career as a model, no one was going to mess with his little girl and get away with it. She really missed her father, the kind of man fatherhood had been modelled on she thought. He had even been supportive of her joining the UFC as he had been a life long boxing fan.

Here she was in Northern Ireland with her collage degree, her work with the UFC, her ability to read people and her thirst for life going to visit a wrestler, a man that while he meant a great deal to her was still far from the ideal man for her, Highone was fun and a lovely guy she knew...but...

She pushed the thought away, she liked, Highone and his strange way of looking at things, he was nice and always had a laugh hidden away to drag it out when he needed it.

"Tell me somthin' Miss..." The driver apparently named Spike asks her interrupting her thoughts.

"Didn't I see ya on one of those UFC tapes?"

Rachelle smiles, she seems to have become a small time celebrity.

"Yes, you probably did." She replies not really wanting to speak with him about it.

Silence followed as the car sped on towards an old looking building, she smiled and thought "Typical of Highone to get a place like that."

The car came to a halt.

Spike stepped out, opened the door to the woman by his side and left for Rachelle to take care of her own exit from the old car. As the young woman left the vehicle behind her, she saw a giant of a man stepping towards her, he had a strange almost Asian look and was at least 7 feet tall, in his eyes there were a glint of something cruel and evil. For the first time since they left Belfast, the woman spoke.

"Ah Thorne...would you be so kind as to "escort" our guest to her new quarters...we have a lot to take care of..."

The large man walked up to Rachelle and grabbed her in a less then friendly fashion and started to pull her towards the old manor house's entrance. In panic she screams.

"Wait...wait what are you doing? Highone will be upset about this."

Before the door closes she hears Spike's voice with a hint of glee in it.

"Whut makes ya' think 'ighone is 'ere?"

Then the door closed behind her and darkness choked her vision to death.

"So whut do ya want 'er for then?" Spike asked Razor as the beautiful girl was taken away by the large and brooding Thorne.

Razor sighed.

"My dear, do you have to keep that horrible accent going when we are alone?" her voice was almost caressing as she addressed Spike. He smiled and replied.

"Of course not, it's just such a fun accent that it's hard to drop."

Razor ignored Spike's comment and pressed on.

"You do know why I wanted here don't you?"

"Yes I do."

"Then why did you ask?" Razor asked with a slight sharp tone in her voice.

Spike smirked.

"To get that tone out of you again...It drives me mad."

Razor smiled, Spike had been something of a dark horse, his youth had been one where sophistication and intelligence had been bad words, a smart man on the streets of London in his childhood had all the chances to get picked on and bullies if he was lucky...It was Spike had told Razor that it was best not to consider what happened to the unlucky smart ones on his old block. His mind that had been well hidden behind a Chelsea head-hunters background and more hooligan tattoos then a normal English football world cup supporter's squad, the man had a mind to be counted on and the fists to be used if needed.

"So you approve of our "use" of her."

"Love..." He started using his nickname for Lillith. "...I hate Highone with a passion, and I hate Dante...anything that brings those two wankers down gets a thumbs up from me."

He smirked.

"Besides, I guess a new Succubus in that body can be considered doing the world a fuckin' favour."




The bedroom in Belfast was getting lit up by the early morning sun. Dante had spent about 4 hours talking to Darkness and then at around 5 Am he had returned to the bedroom he shared with Selenia. He found his fellow Infernal on the bed sleeping like she loved to do but didn't really need. He looked at how her chest heaved and fell as she took each breath, how he love this woman. He loved how she had brought out all the good things in him, all that was noble and all that was pure. He smiled and crept down into the bed beside her. She woke up as he slid under the covers next to her and she gave him a loving but sleepy look and an equally sleepy "Hi.". He returned the "Hi" and kissed her on her neck in a way that made her half purr. A laugh later, they were both asleep in each other's arms.

The ring of Dante's cell phone woke him up about five hours later, he regarded the phone with a look of distaste and got up to answer it.

Trust me on this, getting a sleepy annoyed demon on the phone in the morning isn't the best way to start the day...as Valerie Stern's secretary found out.

"Dante..."

"Oh, sorry to bother you Mr.Dante...I just called to remind you that you and your..." the woman searched for the word.

"Girlfriend?" Dante added in an annoyed tone.

"Ah yes...You and Miss Selenia are expected at the Lamb and Flag pub to promote the PPV in about an hours time sir."

Dante thanked her for reminding him while wondering if making peace with his father long enough to damn her and her boss to an eternity in hell was a good idea.

"I doubt it would work, Jason." Selenia's voiced said in his head.

He smiled.

"I sort of thought that was the case."

He sighed.

"A fucking pub Selenia, a fucking pub...I'm the world fucking champion and they have us appearing at some damn pub to promote the show."

Selenia got up and walked over to him showing every part of her pale and attractive body to him, she put her arms around his neck and got up to her toes and kissed him.

"You know I really love you when you're angry..."

The annoyance died down on Dante's face and a brief smirk drifted across it before a fake and horrible anger settled on his face.

"You like this?" he asked Selenia.

"Oh I love it...don't hurt me baby." Selenia said with a laugh in her voice and a smile playing on her lips.

Dante picked up his naked love, carried her to the bed and hugged her in what he though was an angry fashion.

"The bitch said we were supposed to be there in an hour..." Dante began.

"Plenty of time..." Selenia replied with a smile.


Highone was worried, Rachelle was there for him, for his sake it was her surprise to him not a TCW thing. So a TCW car picking her up didn't make sense at all, he had spend a good hour trying to get hold of her via her cell phone but there was interference, Damn Ireland he had though the first five times, but slowly it had dawned on him that Northern Ireland, like any European country had a very well developed cellphone network.

That was of course the point where the panic had set in and his mind had reached the conclusion that this was Dante's handiwork, jealousy and envy must have driven the champion to do this. Highone cursed himself for doing what he had done to Dante at that damn show, had he only stayed away from it everything would be good.

No.

It wouldn't, he knew Dante. The pale faced man was vindictive and petty in the extreme, he remembered the time when he had taken the Bleeder title from Dante. He had seen the anguish on Dante's face, and how he hated the situation, Dante wanted to be the centre of attention and having Highone be the winner and champion was like a cancer in his mind, a festering tumour that was feeding off his mind, making his life miserable. Highone has seen the anger and then he had seen Dante's joy at the revenge when Shadow and Dante had taken the tag titles from Highone and Hardy.

Vindicitive.
Envious.
Jealous.
Petty.

That was the Dante Highone knew, just thinking about the white faced ass hole and what he had done to Selenia a while back made Highone's stomach churn. As soon as the bell rung for the main event, he would tear the bastard a new one. That was his pledge as he threw on his jacker and headed out to that pub where he had set up a publicity event for the PPV, he had made sure Dante would be there for some reason, and now he was happy that he had made that arrangement.

As he left, he didn't even let the thought that Dante had changed pass his mind, he had in essence...old news to go by.


Rachelle had no idea how long she had been in the cold, dank room. Some where in the darkness she could hear the dripping of water, it may have been hours, maybe days since she had last seen the light, she simply had no idea. All this time she had known that the tower of a man called Throne had been standing near her as if he wanted to have his unseen shadow imprison her, she fet the cold creep into her skin and wished the infernal dripping would end soon.

Suddenly Throne grabbed her again and dragged her towards some unseen place. As they moved a light appeared, a light bulb was hanging above something that only came into focus for her slowly, She saw two figures standing by the table. As Rachelle approached pulled there by Throne she saw the restraints and began to fight the large man's pulling of her to no avail. He trust he towards the table and smirked as she slammed into it back first. The giant of man then grabbed her again and put her on her back and strapped her in. The last thing she saw of him was a cruel smirk as he left the area the bulb lit up.

Then Razor stepped forward, the woman's jet black hair was gathered in a strange hair do at the back of her head and made her look like a dominatrix preparing to hurt her. She smiled and ran her hand in a strangely seductive caress across Rachelle's cheek.

"Poor child..." Razor said in a tone that sounded far older then she looked.

"So alone, so afraid...why do you fear the dark child?"

Razor's voice was sweet almost as if she was trying to seduce Rachelle or at least sway her to her side. The strange tone continued as Razor purred on.

"There is nothing to fear in this darkness my dear child. This is just a place with almost no light, a place devoid of warmth and light...there are greater and darker places to fear child."
Razor leaned down and kissed Rachelle's cheek, the UFC octagon girl was open minded but this made her feel sick to her stomach. This strange goth girl was acting like she was older then this world and making advances on her, Rachelle didn't understand any of this, so when the razor blade cut into her wrists it was a huge surprise to the young woman. She felt her blood slowly run from her body and she felt Razor's hands around her wrists squeezing every last drop of out the wounds.

The the black haired woman begun to chant in a language that was defiantly not part of the studies at the college Rachelle had attended, the tongue of demons rang in it' sweet and sicking tone in the chamber. Rachelle found that her body was growing weak, she felt as if she was sliding out of her own body through her eyes...she was dying, that she was certain of.

As she left her body she felt something sliding in, something wicked and dark, a thing a woman that ah lived a thousand lives and was as twisted as Razor. A blinding flash of light later Rachelle was floating around above her own body watching as it sat up and answered Razor's command by calling the goth girl "Mistress".

As madness claimed Rachelle's disconnected soul and she began her first minutes as a banshee looking for her own body she screamed the one name she knew could help her.

She screamed for Highone.



Dante rubbed shoulders with them local men at the pub, he found that he actually liked the rustic place and the smell of beer, he laughed as he thought back to how his hatred of the classic Irish Guinness brew had gone away as he had become an friend of Darkness. The black beer that now filled his glass as he talked and laughed with them locals was as much an ice breaker as a drink. They had all watched him as he ordered, and Dante was no fool, he had let the beer wait the time it needed and then taken a deep drink of it. After that Dante and Selenia had been treated like equals and locals, the talk was far from the normal promo work and was an ease on the minds of both Dante and Selenia. Dante walked over to the door to make a phone call. As he picked up the phone he saw a shadow move in the corner of his eye, before he could react to it, a foot hit him in the face.

The kick sent Dante flying through the pub and made him crash land, in the middle of the pub. As he sat up and wiped the blood from his mouth as the wound healed he saw his assailant. With his teeth gritted and blood lust in his eyes, Highone stepped into the pub with violence in mind. The martial artist walked up to Dante and stomped down on the albino's abdomen causing him to go "ugh" as his muscles didn't have time to shield himself from the blow.

Next Highone grabbed him by the hair and smashed him against a mirror nearby. As Dante staggered forward Highone swung around and hit Dante with a roundhouse kick. The blow sent him across the bar and he was soon followed by Highone who leap over the bar with ease. He bent down and pulled Dante up by his hair.

"Now..." Highone begun. "...I have one fucking question for you Jason...Where is she?" The sound of Highone's voice was restrained, but the anger bubbled just beneath the surface.

Dante spat out a glob of blood.

"Where is who?"

Highone flung him over the bar again by his hair.

"You know who I'm talking about...you really can't take me being happy can you?"

Dante really did have no idea what Highone was talking about, he only knew that the normally controlled Martial Artist was now in a fit of rage unlike he had never seen before.

Dante spat another glob of blood out and threw a punch at Highone. Highone blocked it with ease and a grin on his lips. Highone swing Dante's arm into a painful angle and asked again.

"Where...is...Rachelle?" The voice with thick with contempt and anger.

"I don't even know who Rachelle is you fucking moron!" Dante replied.

"LIAR!" Highone screamed.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Selenia and the fire in his mind turned into a blaze. A series of punches to the abdomen was followed by a strong kick to the chest that carried Dante through the front window of the pub. Against Highone followed him outside and grabbed him by his shirt.

"You have one last chance to tell me where you're keeping her or I'll make what Drakus did to you seem like a party..."

As he stood there with the bloodied Dante in his clutches, Highone was unaware that he was being watched.

Across the road three people stood, Razor, Spike and the body of the Rachelle Highone was so hell-bent on finding. Razor laughed, this was going to be even simpler then she thought. Without a word she sent the Succubus that now inhabited Rachelle's body towards Highone to do her wicked magic on him.

Somewhere, Rachelle's soul drifted in it's maddened incorporeal form trying to attract Highone's attention with her mad wailing.

Ashen lips curled into a spiteful sneer. Highone had mentioned Drakus' sneak attack with such casualness, as if it hadn't been intended to permanantly cripple the very individual in front of him. Jason thrived on the pleasures of life, both mortal and otherwise, so the notion of paralysis was a helplessness he couldn't bear at the time. Dante would have preferred any amount of physical pain to that of the inability to feel the simple prick of a needle. He savored every punch and kick the enraged Infinity member had offered.

Dante: I always did like a good party! You REALLY think you can do worse than that piece of shit Drakus?

A quick glance over towards the onlooking Selenia was all it took for Highone to push the Hellfire captain over the edge. It appeared as though perhaps the World Championship challenger knew how to press Jason's buttons if need be. Their non-title match had revealed more than just Highone's ability to take Dante to the limits. It had apparently shown the martial artist a weakness in the Dark Prince's brawn armor. The mere implication she could be put in harm's way against him was a slap to the sleeping giant's face he could not let go unreturned. As Jason prepared to shift his weight downwards and pull Highone head-first into the pub exterior a thought crossed his mind. If the soon-to-be concussed man in Dante's grip felt a tenth of what he did for his beloved, could he actually fault Highone for being so over the top with his anger? It was a short-lived moment of empathy.

"Highone?!?"

The female voice caught both of their attentions. It was audible perfume to Highone, causing his head to immediately cock sideways towards its source. Dante had never heard it before and yet something about its tone seemed strangely familiar. It left a soft ringing in his ears like an alarm was blaring somewhere miles away.

Highone: Ra-...Rachelle?

He loosened his grip on Dante's tailored silk shirt, now ruined with the stain of blood spatters and the filth of the Lamb and Flag's Guiness-glazed hardwood floor. As improbable as it seemed there she was standing before him. Highone blinked twice to make sure he wasn't imagining things. Rachelle smiled, looking especially sexy in a pair of hip-hugger jeans and a skin tight black Infinity belly shirt. One look into her eyes was enough to blind him from the danger so close at hand. The threat was not only that of Lilith's plan, but Highone had forgotten about the fuming World Champion a fist-of-fabric's length away. Fortunately, Dante was preoccupied with his amusement at the situation and a subtle taste of caution he still could not get out of his mouth.

Highone: But....how?

Rachelle: A TCW car picked me up at the airport. You think they wouldn't tell me you and Dante had a public appearance tonight? Speaking of which, it looks like you've got your hands full at the moment...literally.

Highone: Oh...

Rachelle: Seems you were doing well based on that freak's face. Don't let me stop you, babe. Finish the job!

Her words were surprising. Leah had always told him to try and keep the fighting inside a ring. She'd preached professionalism in terms of what truly makes a champion, even citing Dante's typically calm and business-like approach in the process. Now her eyes looked of bloodlust, her mouth salivating in anticipation of violence. Jason pulled himself out of Highone's grip before he had the chance to cause any further damage. The movement called the martial artist's attention back to his opponent at Apeirophobia. Before the two had an opportunity to throw any punches another female voice added to the fray.

Selenia: Jason!!!

Dante's priority in life became crystal clear and he quickly walked to its side. Selenia urged him to let Highone go about his business with Rachelle. She wanted to get Jason to a safe place. The air was thick with hate. The acrid stench of pure evil radiated from beneath the anonymity of nearby shadows. Something seemed wrong...seemed dangerous.

Once again recognizing how he would feel were his lover possibly in the way of harm, Jason decided perhaps this fight was one for another day. Maybe Highone was learning the merits of love comparitive to one-night stands. And, as booked, the rivals could always pick up where they left off at the Oddysey Arena (if not sooner). The champ chose to take his leave and be with the only person in this world who truly mattered to him. It was not a hard decision. He would save the physical altercation for a later date but still departed with a final jab.

Dante: Savor this moment, take a deep breath....look around at the scenery, the clouds, the moon...listen to the crickets chirping their ageless symphony...remember the numbers on the face of your watch...because the next time we lock up I'm going remind you why I'm champion...I will claw, fight tooth and nail to show you....I'm willing to die for the victory...are you willing to go that mile? Are you willing to go that inch? And when the cameras fade out at your quote-unquote landmark event it will be the New Hellfire Club they see standing victorious and it will be you...the individual who your team is looking to more than anyone else...laying there, bloodied and beaten.

At the time Jason's words were lost unto Highone. Dante turned and walked towards his parked car along with Selenia. He could hear the immediate banter between the two primarily consisting of Highone's concern for Rachelle's well-being. It was strange though. As he slid into the car seat his heightened sense of hearing picked up what he thought was a foul whisper carried by a gust of wind. Jason closed his eyes for a second, hoping he was wrong, then started up the car and drove off.

"You will pay Earthborn..."

----

The clock blinked an obnoxious neon-green "3:41". The time on its face was of no consequence to Dante. Sleep had become little more than rumor in his life. He'd earlier explained his condition to Darkness who had nodded in understanding. Jason knew it was more likely a gesture of comfort than actual comprehension of what he was enduring. Who could truly understand what it was like being Jason Dante?

He shuffled out from under Selenia's delicate arm, tenderly wrapped around his chest. She groggily came through to melt his heart with a smile and sweet goodnight. Jason put on a pair of black silk pajama pants and walked out on to the balcony. The moonlight indulged his milky skin while frigid air embraced his naked torso.

Touch, taste, smell, sight, and sound. They were small windows into the humanity so many people took for granted. Jason basked in the glow of alcohol that did not make him drunk. He relished the feel of his lover's skin and bouquet of her freshly-washed hair without mortal appreciation for how fleeting moments like that might be. Life's fragility was lost on him. One in his Italian Leather loafers could never truly understand how precious every second was; he would never catch a cold or sleep in on a Sunday morning. To most it seemed like a small price to pay for the powers he possessed. But at times, to Dante, it felt like prison.

Jason sighed deeply. And yet for all his desire it was lost on him that he was more human than he realized. He harbored many of the same doubts and insecurities. He had a heart, a mind, and a spirit. All men should all be so lucky. Perhaps it was the plethora of other factors clouding his vision at the moment. Balancing his time between co-managing the NHFC's personalities, fighting off Infinity, defending his belts, and making crappy P.R. apperances deserved a championship in itself. They were only the beginning of his "To Do" list and ultimately insignificant in the big picture.

Still, something about tonight had seemed wrong, and he didn't just mean Highone's uncanny ability to focus his rage into such a dominating performance at the pub. Dante wanted to attribute it to the medical layoff but knew better. Something about Rachelle had seemed off. Was this really his first time meeting her? He thought so, but then again her eyes had told a different story. Jason decided he would give it some more thought the next day when he could pick Selenia's brain for a little bit.

"Come back to bed honey..."

Dante grinned. She had sensed his curiousity. His smile suddenly widened tenfold. Apparently he had sensed something too.

"...and hurry!!"

----

Highone sat on the bed, his back against the headrest, while flipping channels at a frenetic pace. There wasn't much selection when it came to Belfastian television. You essentially had a show about sheep herding, MTV-DS (Drinking Songs), soccer highlights, and a series of reality shows about impoverished dysfunctional violent people...or perhaps it was the local news, Highone couldn't be sure. The volume was on mute allowing him to monitor the gentle hum of a nearby shower.

He had only been back a short while from his run-in with Dante and subsequent encounter with Rachelle. Since leaving the city his newest female friend had been more affectionate than in their other moments together, perhaps feeling a bit sorry for Highone's recent hardships in the ring and hoping to sooth his nerves via flirtation. It had certainly worked so far in keeping his mind on other things. She had been quiet during the drive back to his cottage, putting her head on his shoulder for the bulk of the trip while softly cooing about her journey overseas. He could still feel the warmth and tickle of her breath on his neck. Highone hadn't been able to stop picturing those full lips inching closer to his ear, stopping only to press them against his lobe and whisper sweet nothings.

The cessation of running water brought him back to reality. The suddenly nervous RoXoR quickly flipped the television off, debating in his mind whether or not to leave the room in order to give her more privacy. Rachelle did something Dante had not been able to earlier that evening; beat Highone to the punch. She opened the door still dripping wet wrapped in what appeared to be more of a washcloth than bath towel. Rachelle was normally reserved, and somewhat self-conscious, about her looks. If this was a half-naked woman's way of letting him know she felt comfortable around him, Highone certainly wasn't going to argue with her on any level.

Rachelle: Would you mind handing me my stuff?

The hopeful champion acknowledged her request and grabbed hold of her Coach bag, quickly handing it over and turning away to avoid any leering. It also shielded his reddening cheeks from her. Rachelle giggled and went back into the master bath to get dressed. Highone took a deep breath to recompose himself. He'd often thought of similar scenarios; the two of them alone, her scantily clad and him lounging on a bed. The result had always been less stressful and harder to clean up. And it wasn't as if she was the first starlet Highone had been in such proximity to. Still, there was a closeness between he and Rachelle not related to any kind of physical distance.

She returned from her makeshift dressing room looking straight out of a Xyience commercial. Skin-tight carnation pink booty shorts were complimented by a tanktop that read "Daddy's Little Bitch" in black. The only thing Highone wanted more than her right now was the ability to TiVo reality. Burdened by the shortcomings of life as he knew it, Highone settled for his raging libido and the vision of dark divinity mere feet from his eyes.

Highone: Hey...so...um how was your shower?

She plopped alongside the uncharacteristically bashful TCW superstar.

Rachelle: Refreshing. I feel like an entirely new person!

Highone: *muttering to himself* You and me both...*audibly* So what do you want to do?

Rachelle: I'm still feeling kind of jet-lagged. Maybe we can just stay in tonight?

Highone: Sure, that's probably for the best anyways. I'm sure Dante wouldn't mind getting his hands on me. He seemed calm when leaving the pub earlier but knowing Jason it's going to take a chunk of my hide before his wounds fully heal.

Rachelle: You have nothing to worry about. You kicked his albino ass earlier and you'll do it again if need be, won't you?

Highone: Of course I would...

Rachelle: I don't like that skinny bitch he's always with either. She's lucky someone doesn't snap her in two.

He was surprised to hear Rachelle mention Selenia in such a harsh manner. The long trip to Ireland seemed to be taking its toll on her in more than one way.

Highone: Um....

Rachelle: But who cares about them? I just want to focus on our time together.

Highone: Yeah, about that...

Rachelle: I've seen you look at me before. I know what's in your heart. Now I want to know what's in your pa-...

Highone: What about your boyfriend?

Rachelle: He'd never have a clue. Besides you know he doesn't treat me right...he doesn't take care of me the way you could...the way a woman like me needs to tended to...

Supple breasts heaved upward as Rachelle arched her back in feigned-stretch. She knew exactly what she was doing. And somewhere in the dark another did too. Once completely drawn in by the succubus-inhabited Rachelle, her prey would succumb and be Lilith's unknowing slave. The malevolent Queen would use him to finally destroy Jason Dante and then toast the victory while feasting on Highone's spirtual essence.

Highone: Rebounds are good for basketball games and meaningless flings. Why don't you get some sleep? You had a long flight. We can talk about this tommorrow.

Rachelle: I'm not tired. Why don't you wear me out?

Highone: It's a little late for aerobicizing.

Rachelle: That's not what I had in mind.

Highone: I was afraid of that. Why don't we watch a movie instead? I'm sure the satellite has a few PPV channels.

Rachelle: Maybe Spice?

Highone: I was thinking more along the lines of "Air Buddies 2" or "Nanny McPhee".

He tried to look away and stay firm in his convictions, but happened to catch a glimpse of her eyelashes fluttering. Rachelle was now making a puppy-dog face with sad eyes and pouty lips. This was going to be a test unlike any other the disciplined martial artist had ever faced before...

....not to mention one HELLUVA long night!

4:45 AM

The green light of the alarm clock startled Dante as his eyes opened again. He grinned, his life was strange...he was sure many people said their life was quite strange, but what frame of reference did they have? A bad childhood? A lost love? Or many multiple lost loves? Or even like his current object of disgust, Highone multiple loves the had eluded him.

Dante yawned, no matter how little he needed to sleep, he still fell asleep when his body told him he needed it, he had spent days on end awake, especially when Selenia had not been at his side, but in the end it was the bait, not the fatigue that caused the sandman to claim him for an hour or so. He turned over on his back and felt the thud of Selenia's hand hitting the sheets, she groaned in her sleep and pulled her arm to her. Dante smiled as he tilted his head to look at her, her face was framed by an aura of jet black hair, her features were clearly south European, but her pale skin lent her face a strange feline quality that was both striking and something Dante kept close to his heart at all times. He put his hands behind his head and watched the painting that some poor artist had made in the ceiling of the hotel, Belfast wasn't known for it's art, but this poor man, because Dante was sure it was a man had been obsessed with Michelangelo and his work in the Sistene chapel it seemed, the scene was from Irish folklore but the figures seemed to have been borrowed from the Vatican's world famous ceilings.

Dante took a deep breath and the strange and moist atmosphere found a way into his lungs. He did like Ireland, and the British Isles in general but the place was damn moist and rain always seemed seconds away at this time of the year. He looked out a nearby window and saw Belfast in these wee morning hours, the place was just about to wake up and people were either sounds asleep waiting for an alarm clock to wake them up or were already out and about and on their way to start their daily errands.

Belfast had been much quieter then he had expected, all that the US news ever told the US citizens about Northern Ireland was IRA, Sinn Fein, Catholics and protestants...maybe the most pointless conflict in history...both were Christians and Dante wasn't sure saints and Latin was a reason to fight.

He sighed again.

"Penny for your thoughts?

The full female voice echoed in his head and as usual brought a smile to his lips.

"Why pay for something you already own?" He asked her with a smile on his own lips.

She rolled over on her side and looked at him with a smile on her lips.

"Why do you always take our conversations to the mouth?" She asked using the strange expression that Dante and Selenia had for going from their inner dialog to the spoken word.

Dante paused to think of a way to say this in a good way, found none and instead went straight to the point.

"Since Darkness and I was...well in that place...It feels as if he could listen to us."

Selenia laughed.

"Silly...He can't unless you want him to..."

"Well, I sure as hell don't want him too."

"Well then? What is there to be afraid of?"

"Nothing, not even fear it self" Dante replied.

"There...I like your voice much better like this, it feels like you hug me in my mind."

"I can do better then that..." Dante said and hugged her in the physical realm too letting her warm body sooth his worries.

6:34 AM

Hours later they were both still lying in bed enjoying each other's presence.

"Jason?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know how to put this...but I think I've seen that girl who was with Highone before."

Dante nodded he knew what she meant.

"I mean, I know she was a UFC girl, but I felt..."

"Kinship?"Dante asked sensing the word in Selenia's mind.

"Yes, she seemed more familiar then some UFC ring girl."

"Octagon girl."

"What?"

"UFC has an octagon, not a ring." Dante said in a failed effort to make the situation less serious.

Selenia said nothing about the octagon part but continued anyway.

"She seems to have something both you and I know very well..."

This time Dante's nod showed understanding, he had felt it too.

"Hellfire..." he said and let the word trail out.

Hellfire was a strange spiritual power or energy that every demonic being had at least a little of, the Hellfire defined the power of the demon and it's ability to use said powers, Dante being the son of Lucifer had a lot of Hellfire and Selenia, his lover and confidant had a great share herself. In a way hellfire was a layer on the soul, an extra dimension within a demonic being. In many ways this extra layer was part of the reason most demons had a hard time relating to their previous lives.

"I'm not sure, I just felt...as if there was a connection and someone staring at me with eyes full of hatred." Selenia replied.

Dante thought about this, they were both demons although they rarely acted like it so while it was almost impossible to mistake the hellfire, it could haven just been a result of this Rachelle being in a way as much Highone's girl as Selenia was Dante's. And Dante knew how hard and tough the bonds that tied him and Selenia together were, Dante also knew that this connection would have been there even without the telepathic bond and the demonic parts they both had.

But no matter how much he had felt the hellfire in Rachelle or to be honest, felt it in someone in the area, he discounted the thought of some how Highone getting a girlfriend with some kind of hell alignment. He stumbled through a few ideas to try to make Selenia forget it until she gave him the best one of all.

And a few kisses and a few minutes later they had both forgotten the world at large.


*****

4:21 AM

Highone was to be honest at his wits end. His entire life (...no not the entire life) had been a string of failed or stillborn relationships, women didn't see him as something to put their money on or to lean on in a storm. He had heard all the normal breaking up excuses, all the "it's not you it's me"s all the "I need some time on my own"s and all the rest. Maybe it was because of this he felt a bit strange at how much loving Rachelle suddenly had for him, the woman was bubbling over with not only affection but sexual energy as well. As nice this change of luck and pace was, he was setting worried that it would wear him down and that he would be a shell at the PPV. Rachelle had left for the bathroom for a while but Highone sense with a mixture of half dread and anticipation that she wasn't going to be gone for long.

No matter how clouded his mind had become as Rachelle had taken him to new heights, something was eating at Highone, he felt drained and in a strange way betrayed. Of course her strange behavior was most likely the result of fatigue and jet lag, but he wasn't so sure about that. As he hear the door to the bathroom open he pushed the thoughts aside and began to build up strength to resist Rachelle's charms this time.

Two minutes later he found out that he had failed.

4:21 AM

She was pleased, ever since she had been siphoned into this human body she had had her doubts. The Succubus' limitless craving for energy and craving for the sex that brought it to her was the same whether she was in her demonic form or this human form, what she had been worried about was when her mistress had ordered her to seduce the mortal, this Highone person. She didn't know how humans performed their sexual acts, she had been a demon for thousands of years, born in ancient Mesopotamia she had long ago lost her connection with the humanity she preyed on. She flicked this Rachelle girls hair back and smirked, in her old life this body, this pretty but wasting hell would have be seen as exotic, the body and face of a slave girl...now this body and shell was a mistress of lust and of pain...She had seen this Highone slowly start to crumble under her spell. The mind always gave way first and then the body followed...she had caused myriads of deaths and sent countless men to a far too early old age with her attentions, this time she did it not only for sustenance, she did it for herself and for her mistress. She smiled again as flexing these stolen muscles was somethings he enjoyed. As she gave her lips and mouth some exercise a strange image flickered to life in the mirror before her, she bowed as she saw Lillith appear in her beloved demonic appearance.

"I salute you my immortal mistress." Rachelle said in a worshipful voice.

"Greetings Melaxenia, is your object at his powers end yet?"

"Not yet Mistress, but a few more hours and he will be easy pickings for a gnat."

Lillith's face looked pleased.

"Remember to spare him Melaxenia, we need him to be the vessel of our revenge."

Melaxenia spat out a vile curse in her long dead language.

"Why not put a demon into his body too? Why not posses them all my mistress? We could build a Hareem of this world..."

Lillith laughed a vile and disgusting laugh at her servants ambitions.

"No my dear Melaxenia, we need the males to be unaware of the reason for our affections..."

Melaxenia bowed.

"Yes mistress."

"Of course sparing this one called Highone will not mean you cannot use him for sustenance...we only need him to weaken Dante and to bring the earthborn into my clutches..."

"So for this night he is mine?"

"Play with him my lovely wicked Melaxenia...play him to your heart's content."

Then the image of Lillith was gone.

With a grin Melaxenia guided Rachelle's body back to the bed room and the soon exhausted Highone to continue her feeding.

*****

The grin could be felt across the restaurant, and in fact as could the sense of anger and disappointment that was directed in the opposite direction. The large muscled man stared at what he until he saw him in person had hoped was a delusion, a trick his mind was playing with him, but as easy as the pale man lifted the glass of whiskey to his mouth and took a sip, Drakus hopes fell apart.

He had felt his neck break, he had heard it...he had known that Dante's head bouncing of the concrete at the arena had broken the damn albino's neck into pieces...he had seen the x-rays Pryce had gotten hold of...Dante would NEVER walk again, he would for the rest of his stinking life be a vegetable, a cripple. Drakus almost felt the need to charge across then restaurant and once more break his neck but a hand restrained him.

"Not now Drakus..."

Drakus shot Pryce a hostile glare.

"Witnesses Drakus...you are still on probation." Then Pryce added "And it's not like the albino freak is going anywhere anytime soon...you'll get him again Drakus, you'll get your hands on him again."

Drakus shot Pryce another glare.

"You'd better be right Pryce..." The threat was clear in Drakus voice.

"Of course I am..." he simply replied as they both left the restaurant as Dante raised his glass in a cheer to them.

*****

The Hotel in Belfast wasn't only nice and near the city's center, it had a nice old fashioned lounge that residents of the hotel could rent for an evening. This was what Jason Dante had done on this night. The winter rain outside made the large armchairs and their soft and warm stuffing feel even more welcoming then they usually did.

Any astute observer of Jason Dante would notice that he unlike most of his nights off was dressed in his customary white clothes even when not out for business. This was of course due to the fact that he was out on a "business" event even if he wanted it to look like he wasn't. He wore his white shirt and coat , his trousers ended and revealed the only part of his clothing that wasn't the colour of virginity and innocence, Dante's boots were as they always were black as the night. He smiled as he surveyed the area and waited for his guest.

Given the nature of this guest he had no idea he was invited to this party and what purpose it would have once he got there, but Dante knew the man he was waiting for better then his guest would ever admit he would show up.

Minutes turned into half an hour before a man walked down the nearby stair-case with heavy and tired steps. He paused as he reached the bottom of the stairs and sighed. He was by the looks of thing tired.

Dante didn't know what could have worn his future opponent and the thief of his titles like this, and he didn't care at this point. He put the shades on and summoned his best smile.

"Well hello, Highone."

Dante's smile when he saw his would be opponent's tired face grew by a few notches more. Something was bothering Highone and somewhere deep in the still murky and dark parts of Dante's soul he was pleased to see this. It had taken Dante a long time to admit to himself what the titles meant, and having them taken from him had illustrated much like almost losing Selenia had how much they actually meant to him. To Dante and Darkness, the TCW was the arena on which they had chosen to fight their battles, it was their home turf and their sacred battleground. The TCW's birth had at the same time been the birth of the New Hellfire Club and the death of the hostilities between Dante and Darkness, all these things Dante saw the titles as representing.

Seeing these titles stolen by someone Dante saw as far from deserving was disgusting and made his skin crawl. Highone had like the vermin he was taken the chance when Dante was down and out to ambush him and take his titles from him, he had stood there as Dante could only watch as he held the belts he didn't deserve...As much as Dante had taken the long and difficult journey from the darkness of the villain to the light of the hero, he still felt the need for revenge that his past self had always longed for..

That was what made him different from Darkness, while the former slayer didn't believe in revenge and pay back, Dante still believed in it very much. He had managed to push old scores to be settled to the back, he even accepted Misfit as one of the members of the NHFC now...but this...crime wouldn't go unpunished.

And tonight Dante vowed he would begin that revenge, he would show Highone what he had done...and more importantly to whom he had done it.

Highone stared at Dante in his nearly pearly white and half muttered.

"Hello Dante."

The voice was a bit thin of fatigue...and Highone did look a bit older then last time Dante had seen him. Dante shook off this as he had been so focused on his revenge against Highone for so long. Ages ago he had lost his Bleeder title to him, Dante had been one match...one damn match from realizing his dream and winning the titles that now were his. I dawned on him that if he had won the match against Highone back then and then maybe beat Coren some things would have been different in his life but he pushed thoughts like that to the side as he asked Highone to have a seat and join him. Highone looked at the armchair as if it was a glass of water appearing in front of a man in the desert. He sat down, almost slumped into it. He leaned his head into one of his hands.

"What do you want, Dante?" The voice was tired but cautious.

Dante paused, this was the moment. He smiled.

"Revenge."

"Revenge?"

"Yes."

Highone's senses had been hardened by years of battle and practice, the word woke him up and the tired expression went away and was replaced by a alert one, Dante was a dangerous foe.

"You stole from me Highone...you can hardly think that I wouldn't pay you back for that...would you?"

"No." the reply was tense. Highone had gone from a fatigued mess to a prepared fighter in no time.

"Good. " Dante replied with a smile.

"Darkness if you would be so kind?" Dante asked his ally and friend through the mind.

"Highone, have you ever stopped and asked yourself who I actually am and why I do the things I do."

"Not much, I generally assumed that your just a fucking idiot with a huge ego."
Dante was about to reply when she walked in. Rachelle was a presence to be felt and the gaze she gave Dante told the albino that she was trouble. She caressed Highone's cheek and gave him a slight kiss before she walked out again.

As she left the room without having said a word, Dante knew what the problem was, he knew why Highone had been so tired and why Selenia and himself had felt this strange kinship with this woman. He kept himself cool and sent out a thought to Darkness.

"Did you get that?"

"Yes I did..." The reply came.

"We need to "go"...now." It wasn't a command he asked Darkness and the former slayer agreed.

"Highone...have you ever read Alice in Wonderland?"

"What kind of fucking question is that?"

"Just answer it!"

"Yeah, my mom read it to me when I was a kid."

"Good, then you know the part with the white rabbit and the rabbit hole?"

Highone sighed, he was getting tired of this.

"Yes I do."

"Good, now what if I told you that the woman who just left this room is your little white rabbit..."

"Well that's cute but I don't think of her lik...." Dante interrupted the interruption.

"...and she wants you to follow her down the rabbit hole?"

"I'd say medication would be good for you..."

"Not likely..." Dante shot back.

Highone looked confused, Dante didn't seem as smug anymore and all talk of revenge had been left to the side. Dante took a deep breath.

"Of course I can show you..."

"Show me what?"

"How deep the rabbit hole goes..."

"What?"

"And where it leads..."

"..."

"It's your choice Highone, you either let me show you or get old and gray before your time"

"..."

Highone was a bit lost, his mouth didn't work as it was supposed to. The feeling he had had with Rachelle had returned, he had known that something was wrong, she had gone from a reserved girl to a full on whore in no time and no amount of jet lag or fatigue could explain that, almost against his own will he nodded.

"Ok, show me..." For some reason he didn't understand he trusted Dante.

"You do understand that one you go down the hole nothing will ever be the same? You can't go back to not knowing."

Highone nodded, he understood.

"Darkness, buckle up we're going for a ride."

"Buckle up?"

Highone suddenly felt as if his world collapsed in on itself, shades of gray and red danced sickeningly, voices called out to him and then turned into strange laughter, children seemed to stretch out their hands to him and he plummeted into nothing. He closed his eyes and hoped the dizziness would end soon, and thankfully it did. He opened his eyes and regretted it in an instant. The armchairs were still there and so was the table that was positioned between them but the rug and the room was gone, in it's place was a desolate wasteland filled with red dust and red rocks. Highone looked at Dante and the albino's eyes seemed to glow.

"Where...what...how..."

"That is a damn good question Highone...and I'll answer that in a moment."

Highone stared at Dante...so the rumors were true, Dante was the satanist people claimed they knew him to be.

"This place, this desolate wasteland is where your little lovely princess comes from..."

"This is California?"

Highone wasn't stupid but he was to be honest way out of his realm. Even if this was only Darkness projecting hell into his mind, everything told him he was in this strange place for real.

"No, Highone...this is where it all ends, this is the bottom of the rabbit hole..."

Highone knew the answer and quietly he said it.

"This is Hell?" He couldn't believe he had just said that but Dante nodded.

"Yes, this is hell."

Highone stared to feel dizzy the world had changed more for him in 30 seconds then it did for most people in 30 years...he was in hell? This had to be a trick.

Dante watched Highone struggle with this strange but fake reality and slowly he felt how Darkness let the illusion end. As the last pictures of hell faded from Dante's mind, he saw a woman, a woman that had no place in hell and who most certainly wasn't part of Darkness illusion, she was dressed in white and had a tormented look on her face, she looked familiar to Dante and as hell faded out she mouthed a pitiful but heartfelt "Help me!" to the albino.

As Dante's vision returned to normal he saw Highone with his face buried in his hands. Dante looked at his opponent as he struggled with what he had just seen. Dante got up from his seat.

"The woman...where is she?"

"I don't know..."

"We need to find her."

Dante saw a spark ignite in Highone's eyes. The martial Artist got up and grabbed Dante by his jacket.

"Why? So you can steal her from me? Is that your precious revenge Dante? Why are you so hellbent on making me miserable?"

Dante pushed him away for some reason the urgency he had felt when he saw the pleading woman's face had gone and had been replaced with an unholy anger at what Highone had done to him. Dante placed his index finger on Highone's chest and spat out his accusation.

"Because you area coward, an asshole and a thief you stole my titles you worthless prick just like you tried to steal Selenia from me in the past."

"BULLSHIT!" Came the reply "I didn't try to steal her from you...I tried to free her from you you fucking slave keeper!"

"Slave keeper?" Dante screamed at his opponent.

"You fucking heard me."

Highone didn't wait for another burst of insults, he simply struck Dante and then kicked him in the chest. The battle they had begun at the bar had been restarted. All sophisticated ideas about revenge and the visit to Darkness illusion of hell were gone, now only raw human emotion guided them as Malxenia, Lilith and Spike watched in glee as their enemies tried to pull each other to pieces.

Somewhere Rachelle's disembodied spirit watched in horror as Highone and Dante tore into each other with a blood lust on a inhuman scale.

The melee between Highone and Dante had left little of the room untouched. The patrons had immediately exited the lounge. Spintered furniture and shards of glass peppered beige carpeting like the scourge of war across a smoldering battlefield. Jason had left the technical wrestling at home this evening, opting for good old fashioned street-fighting instead. It had still proven to be more than enough for his drained opponent. The TCW World Champion casually strutted towards the downed Infinity megastar.

Brown hair was matted together in red patches courtesy of a table corner having left a small gash on the back of Highone's head. He had fought as valiantly as possible given the circumstances. The quick front-kick to Jason's chest had caught him offguard but done little else. Highone gassed almost immediately, victim to the mental strain of the visions he'd just been presented with and the physical toll of a sleepless night with Rachelle. A few solidly landed rights and lefts from Dante hadn't helped his cause either.

Hellfire Club personified, new and old, took a handful of jacket and helped a worm grow legs. In some ways Highone was grateful Dante had pulled him onto his feet. He didn't figure he had the strength to stand otherwise.

Jason certainly hadn't avoided a few bumps and bruises during the scuffle. However, his formerly white attire looked worse for wear than any physical marks on his body. The twin darts from Hell, both in the form of lovely female and far too real illusion, had almost made the job too easy. If Dante hadn't been so consumed with rage over the title-theft he might have even started to feel a hint of pity. But such charity was not the case this February evening. Jason's head echoed with an ever-building symphony of hatred set to the pounding beat of his heart.

Dante: Are we having fun yet?

Before Highone could exhale, let alone answer, his innards compacted from a series of hooks to the body. He crumpled to his knees in hopes of any form of recovery.

Dante: Had enough?

He looked up into Jason's ice-cold eyes seeing nothing more than indifference. Not even a plea for mercy would have mattered, though Highone would never haved lowered himself to beg a New Hellfire Club member for anything as it was. The martial artist flashed a crimson-tooth grin.

Highone: I keep waiting for your fists to get tired so I can make my move...

A stomp to the face was the albino's intial reply. He followed it with a monologue spoken in the dialect of tossing Highone around the room. Not a verbal response perhaps, but the message was loud and clear. The dwindling former TC champion spat a red glob onto the floor.

Dante: This will be much more rewarding when I do it in front of your home-field fans. To bask in your inability to take the titles from me legitimately or otherwise...

Highone: I...I thought....Casper w-was supposed to be frien...dly...

Genetic royalty had heard enough from someone he considered a biological peon. Dante yanked Highone back up onto his feet. He was done tenderizing the meat. He was ready to cook it. Tonight, the honorless thief would taste the fruits of his treachery in front of an audience of one. At Apeirophobia the forth-coming Hellfire Driver would be witnessed by the world...and most importantly by the other members of Infinity.

Highone: You still don't understand....do you?

Dante: Never seen clearer.

Highone: No....no Jason...this will be your downfall.

Dante: What? As if your bottom-feeding companions are going to show up? Afraid not. Seems they're a little busy with their own aspirations. That's the diff-....ONE of the differences...between Infinity and the New Hellfire Club. You fellows are so blinded by your own personal goals that you often leave each other twisting in the wind...whereas we are in constant support of one another.

Darkness shifted in his seat, monitoring the entire situation from an adjoining room.

Highone: Says the gent with a class-system tattooed on his arm.

Dante: Another miscalculation on your part.

Highone: I never was very good at math.

Dante: It will be YOUR last mistake of the night! You've been full of them, spawning error after error...you thought you could take what was not yours and I would let it pass without repercussion...you dared to let slight on my love for Selenia slip across your lips...

Highone: You're still failing to see the big picture. Life is full of different hidden truths...what you showed me was no rabbit hole...it was a dragon's lair. So maybe I should come clean with you too since we're opening eyes. These things you claim to be blunders on my part are all part of a plan, so rest assured I know exactly what I'm doing when it comes to Poon-ta Kenta and your belts!

Dante: What the FUCK did you just say?

Highone: Don't you have a young girl to go ensl-...?

The line had been crossed once again and it would not go unpunished. Dante cut Highone off mid-insult, snatching his collar and quickly heaving him upwards into a pumphandle position. Jason could think of nothing but silencing the piece of shit above his head. For too long had Highone's piercing gaze fixated on Selenia. For too long had he rambled his false implications and purple-tongued prose. Or, in the apparent victim's opinion, for just long enough.

Dante made the final surge in preparation to spike his Infinity rival's head off the floor. It was time for Highone to attempt the counter he'd been avidly practicing behind closed doors for the past few months. It had failed him upon other instances but now was the exact moment he'd been waiting for. The TCW World Champion was typically a man of business. He was as ruthless as anyone had ever been in the ring, but his mind was typically razor sharp in its endeavors. There was calculation in nearly every moment of his life. It had helped him become successful in both the wrestling industry and with the rise of DanteCorp. And yet right now all Jason could picture was smashing a man into pieces. The steel-trap had been sprung open offering the very weakness Highone had been working towards for quite awhile. He'd made it personal and not business. Even if the attempt worked this one time it might make Dante think twice at the PPV.

Highone pulled his torso to the side and slipped down the World Champion's back. He'd been able to store a bit of strength during his dialogue with Jason. This wasn't the movies. In real life even good guys sometimes talk too much. Highone rolled Dante's shoulders forward onto the ground, leaned with all his 265-plus pounds, and silently counted the seconds in his mind. It was unexpected to say the least.

1......2.....3....

The shock quickly wore off and Jason kicked Highone forward. The difference in remaning strength was clear, as the push sent Highone tumbling into a knocked-over marble coffee table. Dante stood up somewhat confused about what had just occurred. The pin had made no sense in the context of a street fight. Otherwise he was certain he would have detected the counter manuever. It hadn't even been three seconds, had it? Still fuming over the entire situation Jason wasted little time finishing the job he'd set out to do. This time he opted for a DDT into, and through, the seat of an antique oak chair. The vicious visual read Highone a bedtime story he couldn't refuse.

A few minutes after Dante left the area another of Highone's enemies entered the picture. Darkness slalomed between assorted piles of what used to be the room's furnishings. He stopped a few feet from the still-unconscious Infinity representative and knelt down. It would have been easy pickings for a lesser man to defile such a staunch adversary, but the man in black was not in the business of cowardice. Darkness looked up towards the doorway which Dante had exited through, then back down at the bleeding TCW superstar at his feet.

The mental bridge between the two of them had served NHFC's captains well in the past. This time Darkness had sensed something he found slightly disturbing. He trusted Jason to handle his life as he saw fit and had minimal compassion for Highone, an individual who he'd butted heads with on numerous occasions and equated to human pondscum. But there was always more to the equation than one might see at first glance. The red-tint of rage had blinded Dante's vision, but it was in the intricate details of the battle Darkness found distress. There were more forces at play than any earthly TCW faction could dare muster.

Still unsure of whether or not to get involved, or risk self-betrayal and watch innocence swept into the vacuum of evil, Darkness stood back up and left the room. Highone would never know of his visit or minutes of contemplation. In fact, after he finally woke up, even breakfast seemed a little foggy. As he wobbled out of the lounge Rachelle ran to his side, ready to help him forget his troubles in the haze of fruitless pleasure. It was only fair. Lilith had deemed it so and thus Melaxenia had acted. After all, watching Highone and Dante tear each other apart had been far more orgasmic than anything a mortal man could ever know.

----

A huge brute leaned back in a reclining sofa-chair, yawning away another afternoon. His waking hours had been trivial as of late. He filled his time with eating, working out, and then any other distractions he could muster up. They were hardly replacements for his true passion; violence.

Drakus flipped the channels on his rental flat's television. TCW had set him up with a satellite dish in hopes of curbing his passion, but it made little difference as the old saying about "more channels and still nothing on" continued to ring true. He flipped the set off, then proceeded to throw the remote control at maximum velocity into the wall. It shattered into a thousand hard black and silver pieces.

The Indianian stood up and walked over to the calendar on his wall. The last week and a half had been marked out with large red "X" marks. Apeirophobia couldn't come soon enough. It would be his opportunity to finally get in close proximity to the man in his crosshairs, Jason Dante. Drakus knew exactly how much the championships meant to Dante so he had no reservations in making a three-count. Then again, as days lingered and his impatience grew, he would be more than happy to see Highone's face staring up at the arena lights.

After the match anything went. It could be his last chance to get his hands on Dante and accomplish what he'd set out to do a few shows earlier. He still found it somewhat baffling that Jason had been able to overcome such a horrific..ally fun-to-inflict injury. But, Drakus was no fool, and he was well-aware there was more than met the eye when it came to his foe.

No consequence could divert him from the task. No cell could contain his purpose to maim, destroy Jason Dante and his compatriots. His heart was coal pumping pitch tar into every hate-filled fiber of his frame. If security tried to stop him he would break them. If Stern got in his way he'd snap the bitch like a twig. And if Dante's supernatural superfriends showed up they'd be shown the same courtesy as he planned to dish out to their leader. Drakus would feast on their pain. At Apeirophobia his bottled rage would be uncorked. Suddenly the Zebra stripes of a referee didn't seem so bad after all...

---

The moment of aspired-bliss with Rachelle had become a dream discarded. As long as he'd known the beautiful UFC starlet, Highone had always felt their eventual moment of intimacy would be somehow sacred. He hadn't known many girls where such romanticism felt important. Usually it was a matter of letting them touch his muscles or a handful of sweet nothings and the eventual act was nearly guaranteed. But Rachelle had been different.

Her smile was contagious, matched only by her sexy curves, sense of humor, and intelligence. She hadn't lived the life of a model so much as a tomboy, yet the looks would have led most to believe the former was true. There was an innocence in brown eyes that was hard to resist...or at least there once had been. The Midwest beauty queen no longer carried that sparkle. It had been replaced with a glossy leer and lust for carnal pleasure. There had only been so much Highone could take before eventually giving in to her allure.

Highone looked over at her naked body, almost feeling as if he was somehow dishonoring her with his gaze. Her supple frame was as he thought it might be except not quite as tender. The sex had been incredible and yet cold. He enjoyed watching her sleep, though for a far different reason than he originally expected he would appreciate such a thing. A break from her constant advances was a breath of life-renewed.

"Beautiful, isn't she?"

The voice startled Highone. He hadn't heard anyone enter the room. More unnerving was the speaker whose words were becoming all too familiar. It's tone was lovely and yet poisonous, like a siren eternally luring ship captains to their doom on jagged rocks.

Highone: What...are...you doing here? I thought we'd gone our seperate ways...

Lilith: You didn't think it would be so simple did you? To dare refuse my bidding?

Highone: I'll never help you.

The evil Queen of the Succubi seemed to take pleasure in Highone's statement as if she was intent to prove him wrong and knew it would be so.

Lilith: How's your head feel?

Highone: Ask your other obsession, Jason Dante. How's it supposed to feel after getting bounced off $100,000 worth of furniture? Pretty fuckin bad.

Lilith: *looking down at Rachelle* And your other one?

Highone: None of your business.

Hell's harlot sat down on the bed next to the slumbering brunette. If Lilith so commanded she would wake up and fuck them both right there on the spot. But it was not her intent to do so. She brushed her hand over Rachelle's hair. The action set Highone off, caring little if he woke the woman beside him.

Highone: Don't you touch her! Don't you ever touch her!!!

Lilith: Oh it's far too late for that.

Instantly Highone knew what she meant and his heart sunk. It explained the change in Rachelle's attitude. In Sheffield Lilith had teased the notion of her ability to give him Leah in exchange for his assistance. He'd refused out of principle and respect for his friend. It appeared as though he'd been duped, yet here was Lilith and here was Rachelle, so the situation still confused Highone. His mind raced at the possibilities.

Highone: What do you me-mean?

Lilith: I know Jason and that cursed Darkness showed you a glimpse into the actual fabric of reality. Let me give you another on a less mindblowing level. Your little brown-haired whore is under the control of one of my minions. Her shell is our little doll to do with what we please while her actual spirit tosses and turns.

A growl started to resonate in the room.

Highone: I don't hit women, but then again you aren't really a woman are you?

Lilith: I must say, your anger is sweet and quite amusing, but it won't serve you here. Look inwards Highone. You are who you are and I am who I am. Why have our paths intersected?

Highone: Get to the point...

Lilith: Your yearning to know a true intimate moment with a woman you care for lost forever because of one man; your beloved prostituted out while her disembodied spirit watches in agony because of one man. Were it not for Jason Dante then you and I would not be having this conversation now. I have been the object of humankind's simple desire, their lustful core, throughout history and still will be long after you pass from the face of this planet. We have only met because of Jason. He is to blame for these things.

She was right. Highone believed in personal accountability, but were it not for Dante he would never have been exposed to the disease seated a few feet away. Never before had a deadly virus resonated such feminine beauty.

Highone: I have a feeling there's more.

Lilith: Nothing more than an offer to give you back the Rachelle you know. I want you to truly think about what Dante has cost you. Use that hate against him. Destroy him for me. Join me in watching the New Hellfire Club burn to the ground. After all, Infinity wants that and so do you, or am I mistaken?

Highone: You...you can bring back Rachelle? Unharmed?

Lilith: Of course. I made it so and I can undo it.

Highone: But won't she rememb-...

Lilith: No, her mind will not allow her to recall such horrors. And I don't mean sexually of course, because from what I saw you're quite good.

He felt nauseous. All this to be a simple pawn in a sick game between two beings he could never ultimately understand. One he'd been recruited into by Jason Dante's own issues unrelated to Highone, or at least until he'd been pulled in courtesy of Lilith's recourse against the Earthborn. And worse yet was Rachelle's suffering. Again, as Highone continued to realize, at the hands of his federation interactions with Dante.

Lilith: The only ones who will remember are the two of us. Whether or not you can bear the load is beyond me, but then again I guess you have to carry it regardless now that we've spoken. So what will you do?

Highone: If you free Rachelle of these bonds...of this anguish she's experiencing, because whether or not she remembers it later she's experiencing it now...and tha...that's something I can't stand to see. I can't allow her to suffer. You want to see Jason broken and bleeding? That is already a given the next time he and I exchange violence.

Lilith: Then perhaps I'll have to come calling at a later date with a request.

Highone: Just let her go...please...whatever you want...

Lilith: Sure you don't want one less chance to feel the warmth of inside? Not even a quickie?

Highone: You fucking disgust me...

---

A half-empty bottle of Oban 50 Year sat on a small rectangular fireside table. The flames danced in and out of its caramel-complected contents, leaving the copper reflection to adorn a nearby wall. Darkness and Dante sat there enjoying each others' company and conversation. Topics had ranged from local cuisine to strategy at Apeirophobia, including Joyride's unexpected return to action, to general philosophy on life's offerings. As the hour grew late Darkness felt it was time to confront his close ally and confidant. He swirled the liquid in his glass a few times and placed the crystal down.

Darkness: Can I talk to you for a minute?

Dante smiled.

Dante: What have we been doing for the last few hours?

Darkness: No, I mean REALLY talk. None of the trivial real-world things but about areas you and I know more about than most. I wanted to talk to you about Highone...

Dante: Ah, our favorite hypocritical fortune-and-glory hunter. One minute he's nailing groupies and the next he's in puppy love. Don't worry. I had his number yesterday and I'll have it again at the show.

Darkness: Jason, in part this is what I want to speak to you about. I am never going to tell you how to walk in your shoes. But this is bigger than any rivalry between individuals or factions...put aside your disgust for a minute and hear me out.

Dante: Always, my good friend, always...

Highone buried his face in his hands, Lillith still looked at him with that disgusting amused smile that made him feel like she was feeding off him and his agony. She looked at the man who thought of himself as a hero wrestled with the old classical Faust theme. On one hand he knew...

He paused, no he didn't know but he suspected that Rachelle had fallen into Lillith's hands somehow and that she had changed, the face was the same and the voice the same but the tone of barely repressed lust in them was new and decidedly not belonging to the girl he had learned to know and...

Lillith laughed as he struggled with the word that described his affections for Rachelle Leah, it was as if this agony brought on by his affection was a sweet condiment to the whore of hell, her luscious lips sucked on his pain as he devoured his agony. In this moment, he wished he was someone else, someone capable of taking this monster down...for the first time in Highone's life he wished he was his arch-enemy.

He wished he was Jason Dante...and that wish made him feel almost as sick as selling his soul to Lillith did.

Highone lifted his face from his hands and stared at the mistress of the sucubi, his voice bore a hint of focus as he wanted to stop himself from letting his emotions spill over. He sighed again and again confirmed his decision to like Faust, sell his soul for that he wanted most in the world.

*****

Dante's face was calm, a bit too calm given the coming storm he was walking towards but at that moment he felt no need to fear anything, not even the wrath of a man he considered a friend. Darkness was one of the people Dante trusted and counted on, he needed a guy like darkness on his side in this situation when things had gone confusing.

Darkness paused and gave Dante a look that made the albino feel strange, it was as if Darkness was boiling over and needed to let steam off.

"Jason, you and I both know what this we're in is really about, don't we?"

"Yeah...we do."

The use Darkness made of the word "we" troubled Dante.

"Can you then please explain to me why I don't see the Jason Dante I met at End Game, or in jail when you set me free or the one I met in that dojo?"

"I...what?"

"Can you explain to me why I see the Dante who proclaimed himself Lucifer's champion, the Dante who injected me with the serum and the Dante who lost the bleeder title to Highone instead?"

The last comment stung harder then Dante wanted to admit, hearing his loss to Highone used as a way to describe him was painful in a way not even the most ruined sadist could enjoy.

"I...I'm...I don't..." Dante stuttered until Darkness held up his hand to silence him.

"Jason, you of all people should understand what our goal, what our task is...The slayers may be long gone now but we still have the same creed, the same goal and task..."

This time Dante didn't reply.

"We both saw it, felt it and knew it...and yet nothing happened...you were in the same damned room Jason." Darkness said with his voice raising as his comments turned into accusations.

"You saw her...you knew what was wrong and you DAMN WELL KNEW WHAT TO DO!"

Darkness calmed down.

"...and yet you did nothing, not a thing you just sat there and watched and smirked like a fool."

Dante's mind hadn't been prepared for this, he felt as a school child getting yelled at by his teacher and he didn't like this feeling one bit.

The albino was still tongue-tied and unable to retort.

"You sat there and smiled your stupid grin while an innocent woman and a man who is as..."

Something in Dante exploded...pride and ego had reached critical mass and he wasn't going to take this dressing down silent any more.

"Innocent?" Dante yelled out the word he had hindered Darkness from saying.

"How the hell can you call that asshole innocent? He kicked me down while I was in a wheelchair, while I was a cripple! You dare to call that good for nothing poseur innocent?"

Dante stood up now as if the height would give him more push to have his comments burst out.

Darkness said nothing, he just looked at his fellow NHFCer with a stoic look that drove Dante onwards to new heights of rage.

"He attacks me, a cripple a damn vegetable and steals belts I won, he stole my prize...my titles the proof of what I have archived in this world. You were the one who talked about this, the TCW being our arena, our battleground...our holy land...and yet you call a man who stole the belts innocent? Darkness...I thought you were my friend."

The last words hurt, more then Dante could understand at the moment, and Darkness felt the sting clearly. But he also saw it as an opening, the begging tone in Dante's voice as he spit that insult out was the opening.

Now Darkness interrupted Dante, as before his voice was calm but focused and disciplined.

"Yes, I do and I can. You know very well that no matter what crimes a man like Highone commits he is still innocent in one aspect, still innocent in a way neither you nor I can ever become again...His soul is pure no matter what he has done and we are both entrusted to defend his kind as well as the kind that are saintly towards every man."

Dante couldn't swallow this.

"You...You fucking IDIOT! Highone sent himself to the same damned heap as Lillith or Lucifer when he kicked me, the guy lives and feed off of his own envy and his lust to have everything...He wants to see everything we have, that i have and that you have ruined and destroyed, he wants to have his little jobber club be the top team it never should become...the guy is an asshole and if he gets trouble from that girl of his I'll dance on his grave."

Dante nodded as if to put an end to his childish outburst but then he added.

"I'm not Highone, I will never be Highone and that..."

"...is why I wonder why you act like he does..." Darkness injected.

Dante stared at Darkness again, again his tongue was tied, Darkness had pulled the blanket away from under him, the anger drained from Dante...anger left and shame and self-loathing settled in the house that rage had left. Dante stood there despite gravity having let go of him, he almost hung in the air as his feet were numb and his mind in chaos.

"...like he does?" Dante asked in a quiet voice.

Darkness nodded to confirm something Dante already knew, he hated Highone, hated what he had done to him and hated Highone's envy and his lust for what others had. But somewhere in all the hate Dante had lost track of the man he had become, he had let his mind trick him into the man he hated most of all, his mind had turned him into the man he had once been, the man he had left to die in the desert of Nevada, the man who Selenia loved, the man who had Acolyte and Freya for friends had lost his footing and the man they all hated he returned. Dante didn't know why or how this old ghost had returned...But he knew he had to banish it for good this time.

Gravity resumed it's control over the albinos movements as years of abuse and the words of bullies washed over him, he felt the hate he had for his lack of pigmentation and the pride of having a father who was someone people knew of, for the first time in his life he admitted to himself that had had loved hearing that Lucifer was his father.

He dropped back into the armchair behind him with a thud.

His face looked like it had been washed clean of the anger that ha fed it and provoked it into action a few minutes earlier. He sat there and stared at something that didn't exist in any area of existence. After what felt like an aeon he looked at a man he again saw as a friend, as a ally and someone to trust. Dante didn't know what had happened to him or why...but he did know what to do.

"Darkness...I..." he began and Darkness face lost some of the severity.

"I...I don't know what...why...I'm sorry...."

Darkness nodded.

"I know...I know. You mustn't forget our task Jason, our vow and our task is what sets us apart from the monsters of the world, Highone may be an asshole, and he may be worthy of hatred...but he is still a human...a human you and I have both sworn to protect and defend. We can afford to let someone suffer the pain of a demonic slavery just because we don't like them, we may be demons and angels beneath our human skin..."

"...but that makes our humanity so much more important to guard." Dante concluded.

Darkness nodded again.

"Yes...as precious as gold to both you and me."

Dante bowed his head, he had let his old self slip past his guards, he had let the Dante he had been come back to life...now he needed to redeem himself in his own eyes, he needed to pay for his crimes.

He got up from his seat and walked to the door. As he opened the door to the hotel room Darkness asked.

"Where are you going?"

"To Highone." Dante replied.

"What for?"

Dante sighed and turned to look at Darkness.

"For redemption..."

"His or yours?"

Dante looked at his friend.

"His salvation and my redemption."

Darkness nodded as Dante left the room.

*****

She was awake now, her smile was friendly and had nothing of the lust filled horniness that Highone had come to fear and dread the last few days.

She looked at him.

"Hi." She said.

"Hi." Highone replied trying to sound happy.

"Did I miss much?" She asked.

"Not a thing." He said.

"Good." She replied as is she had only had a nap.

She asked him if he felt like having lunch somewhere in Belfast and he said yes without actually feeling like it was a good idea. They left the hotel and walked to a nearby restaurant, they ordered and she said she loved the food and how it tasted, Highone couldn't even feel the taste, it was as if him having sold his soul was all that mattered to him, and in fact this was the case. Lillith hadn't told him what she wanted to do with his soul or why she wanted it, but Highone knew and he knew who to ask. All he could do was hope he had the courage to do it.

After all the man who could answer his question wasn't a friend, Highone was sure he regarded him as an enemy as a thief. Highone sighed inwardly as Rachelle kept talking about things that he couldn't focus on any more. It was all pointless now, what did Rachelle's love or the titles he had stolen matter now, he was soulless. He knew that like most men they don't know they have a soul until it's gone, until there is a void inside that screams and that makes the stomach churn empty no matter how much you eat.

He sighed again as Rachelle told him about the latest UFC event in the US, Normally he loved to hear the results and her talk about the stars of the octagon, but now it was all pointless. Highone, the Mary Jane Martial Artist was suffering from a depression that he didn't think he could recover from, depression can be a feeling of loss, of emptiness and no matter how much he knew that his soul was still inside him it felt as if she...Lillith had ripped it out of him already.

The dinner passed with Rachelle enjoying herself and Highone being miserable. As they said good bye Highone knew what he had to do, he went back to the hotel to confront...him...

*****

Dante had been looking for them for hours, the Northern Irish night had crept up on him and chilled him to the bone now, his mind had been racing since he had met with Darkness and the former slayer had told him what was on his mind in a direct and insulting way. The worst part of that dressing down was that Dante knew that Darkness was right, his friend knew the monsters and their ways, but more then anything he knew about something Dante had let slide.

He knew about duty, about being honourable. Dante had forgotten that and he feared that he could never learn what that meant again. As he walked on through the wet Irish night images of the past assaulted him, images of a past he thought he had erased.


Dante held up the blade, a straight razor and made a cut in the drugged woman's forehead, Natalie Portman only giggled as the drugs distorted her world and made her oblivious to every sensation save joy and laughter. She looked at him and giggles as he slit his wrist. Then She saw how he pressed his writs against her forehead and then Natalie felt nothing more as her soul was wrapped up and Selenia took over the body that once had belong to the actress.


Dante had gone back and eliminated that event from the real history and had the scars to prove it, but the events and what he had done still haunted him, he still saw Natalie Portman's eyes when the drugs subsided as her soul drifted to the bottom of her being and Selenia took over.

Dante cursed the weather and walked on as his memories turned brighter but still had the same dark tint because of his acts.

"My name is Jason Dante, I am the greatest wrestler in 411fed history, no man can compare himself to me, no one can ever hope to defeat me, no one can touch me. I am Infallible and unbeatable...I am the next 411fed/ECF champion and I am Lucifer's champion!"

That old and dumb promo hurt now, it was as if his words fit his current situation all too well. He sighed and trudged on, more and more convinced that he was suffering from some kind of post-paralysis depression. But where does a demon go to get therapy?

The voice woke him up from his depressed world.

"Feeling down son of the morningstar?"

He looked up and saw the face he knew was just one of Lillith's masks, Razor's.

"You have all the reason in the world to be down you know...Your precious titles are gone, your confidence is gone, you are still weak after the broken neck...so much that can go wrong so much that has gone wrong and so much more that will go wrong."

He gave her a dirty look and tried to walk on but she stopped him.

"Are you that sore a loser Earth-born? Can't you let a girl have her fun at your expense."

Dante muttered a curse in the language of demons and pushed her aside.

"I'm not interested in what you have to say you disease ridden whore."

"Oh, not even when I tell you that you are too late? And that Highone's little girl is safe and sound back in his arms?"

Dante stopped.

"What?"

Razor laughed.

"I'm not impossible to deal with Jason, not at all. He had something i wanted and he gave it up after some persuasion."

Dante didn't need to ask, he already knew what Highone had that Lillith wanted. Without a word he summoned Storm Caller and pointed the tip of it against Lillith's throat. His pale face was twisted into a sneer.

"One step Lillith...just one step and you are gone for ever, and his and every soul you have stolen is free."

She smirked.

"Is it?"

He knew she was right, he could butcher Razor and Lillith as one and every soul she had at her beck and call would still be prisoned and enslaved. A slave without a master is still a slave.

He withdrew his word.

"Why would Highone sell his soul to you?"

"Isn't that obvious Earth-Born...he wanted his "wittle-bitty-gurl" back safe in one piece....Pathetic, if you ask me but that is what you humans are like." Razor said with a smirk.

As she spoke again she spoke to someone who had already left, he finally understood what the deal was, finally he had understood it. Highone had become like he once was, selfish, vain and haughty, Dante had tried to hold every title and be the winner of every match, he had tried to hold it all and had lost all titles and matches and more then that.

He remembered how Darkness had told him that every time he had let his own interests take the front seat and left his duty behind he had been punished in some way, finally Dante understood that as he dashed along the streets of Belfast towards the hotel and his one chance to do the right thing again, a strange feeling of elation filled his body, he had been like Highone had been, and now Highone had become what Dante wanted to become again, he remembered the night he had stood at the window in his hotel room and looked out over the sleeping city, he remembered feeling inhuman and as if nothing could touch him and how nothing mattered any more, he remembered missing the feeling of only having a short time to live. He remembered and he knew he had been wrong. He had let his mind play tricks with him and it had turned him into a monster he feared, now he had a purpose, now he had a goal and a sword that could slay his inner monster. As the cobble stones of a park flew past him beneath his feet and knew that he had understood his final lesson in humility and humanity, he understood that his arrogance ha clouded his vision and that it had let it poison him till he cared more about empty revenge then his duty.

Highone had been a man to help, not an enemy no matter how hard he had kicked him or how malicious his intent had been when he stole the titles. Highone had been like he had been himself once. Highone wanted it all, the titles, the girl and everything and it had cost him, it had cost him something that he would miss forever...his soul, it now carried Lillith's mark and belonged to her unless...unless someone could do something to help him...and who better to redeem himself by helping Highone? Who better to go into Hell and challenge Lillith then him?

Who better then Jason Dante to help a man he had all the reason to hate?

Dante dashed on towards the hotel and not in a single atom of his half-demonic body did he feel like a knight on a white stallion, he wasn't a hero he was only a guy wanting to do his duty...

As Dante dashed towards the hotel, fist met door and Highone entered Darkness room, not as an enemy looking for trouble, but as a man wanting to save his soul.

Highone stopped in his tracks and shook the pain out of his knuckles. He stepped forward past the shattered door. Empty space greeted his forced-arrival. It appeared as though he had just missed one of the few people who might have been able to help him find a path towards redemption. A bottle of Scotch with a few pulls left sat uncorked on a small table. The air was still warm and the room fully lit. As Highone would soon find out, no amount of light would preclude the existence of Darkness.

The broad, flat side of an ancient sword tapped the Infinity member's shoulder a few times. It was rare for any individual to get the drop on Highone, but then again the former TCW Champion was not your "Average Joe". Beyond the undoubtable abilities of Darkness, Highone hadn't felt himself lately and for good reason. The voice of Dante from his surprise return in Glasgow rattled throughout the contender's head.

...I'll let you see what those belts bring, I'll let you feel the weight...

The implication had been relatively easy to dismiss at the time, perhaps overshadowed by the current World Champion's miracle recovery. In retrospect his words had been far too true regardless of intent. The price paid had been exponentially beyond the triviality of annoying fans or extra security checks. Were Highone to somehow defeat Jason at Apeirophobia he would welcome such simplicities. The last few weeks had cost him his body, soul, and nearly his heart, Rachelle.

Darkness: He's not here. I suggest you follow suit.

Highone: Who?

Darkness: Jason...

Highone: He's the last person I want to see right now after what he brought into my l-...

Darkness: Then why are you here?

Highone: I'm here because I need...

He bit his tongue and rolled his eyes. Though his back was still to Darkness, Highone could imagine the smile the next two words would no doubt create on his enemy's face. In fact they resulted in more of a look of concern than anything else.

Highone: ...your help.

Darkness sheathed his blade. His intention had never been to harm Highone, but after the door-destroying entrance and former run-ins with the NHFC's rivals, one couldn't be too safe around such a poisonous snake without proper handling. Highone felt the tension level go down a notch and he slowly turned around to face Darkness. It was a landmark moment in some ways. Neither individual had ever come eye-to-eye without some kind of violence being added to the mix. Instead of any kind of staredown, Highone sheepishly looked towards the floor.

Highone: Can I take a seat?

Darkness: By all means.

Highone: Thank you. I shouldn't expect such courtesy.

Darkness: I know why you are here.

Highone: Do you? How? Wait...of course...you must have spoken to Jason.

Darkness: Something like that.

The brief moment of sympathy during his unconscious state was still lost to Highone. Darkness had hoped his conversation with Dante would lead to Rachelle's liberation, but it was clear something remained wrong. The sunken, empty eyes across from him were a clear tell.

Highone: Then you know about Lilith....about the girl?

Darkness: Yes.

Highone: Then maybe I shouldn't be here asking for your help! Maybe I should be kicking your ass!!!

Darkness: I understand you are under quite a bit of strain at the moment, so why don't you take a deep breath?

Highone: I...I'm sorry...I know it's not your fault...that's why I'm here. I'm not even saying I deserve an ounce of your pity, nor am I naive enough to think we'll be sharing any Thanksgivings together either. But...well I'm almost embarassed to say this...

Darkness: Go ahead.

Highone: On the level with you, I won't even speculate into things, but I saw the same file on you as DeSean did last show. If anyone can understand what it's like to lose someone you care infin...well, bad choice of words...but that you care a lot for...I thought maybe you could. Look, I don't know the entire situation, but...

Darkness: No you don't. Let me cut you off at this point to save any impending misunderstandings that could deteriorate into something more physical. Get to the point...

His words were curt, but the subject was a touchy one. Darkness could more than relate to Highone's situation. He too would not speculate as to the normally loose wrestler's actual feelings for Rachelle Leah, but he felt a touch of insult at the implication their connection could match what he'd lost.

Highone: I did something to get her back....the person I care about.

Darkness: What? What did you do?

Highone: I made a deal with Lilith.

The man in black remained silent. He already knew what Highone was talking about. One without an actual grasp of reality couldn't be blamed for what must have seemed like a simple solution at the time. Highone couldn't understand the gravity of his actions.

Darkness: You didnt...

Highone: That's why I'm here Darkness. I need your help to make things right....I...I didn't realize at the time....I was only thinking about Rachelle...she's innocent...

The word struck a chord with Darkness. Innocent. Her light was clear. And Highone's mortal being and propensity for immorality might have said otherwise, but like the beautiful UFC entertainer, Highone was also innocent; at least his soul was. Before Darkness had a chance to speak the conversation took a drastically different direction.

"Is everything okay?!?"

Darkness: Jason?

Highone: Dante!!!!!!!

The conflicted Buddhist's world was suddenly painted with a wide red stroke Eight feet from him was the birthplace of misery. Hellfire's White King took a few deep breaths from the lengthy sprint, Lilith's words fresh in his mind. There was true evil in the world beyond the actions of any one man. He'd finally come to see past the trappings of his anger. On the other hand Highone was lost in a growing rage nurtured by guilt and frustration.

Blood boiled, growing ever closer to spilling over into action. All Highone could think about when he saw Jason were the shockwaves produced by his mere presence. Intent meant little to an individual who had sacrificed his soul to essentially save a loved one's life. But it was far more than anger over his contractual obligation to Lilith fueling the blaze which currently consumed his heart.

Highone's hatred towards what Rachelle had endured superceded all other issues at hand. In many ways he was projecting his own sense of self-loathing onto Dante, an approach far easier than accepting his own responsibility in the scenario. There had been moments where Highone couldn't even look directly at Rachelle's face for fear their eyes would lock. The ripple-effect of Jason's life outside the federation had robbed Highone of a genuine moment of intimacy with a woman he was growing to love. One of life's rarest gems could never sparkle as much before, its luster reduced by every sexual encounter with Rachelle's possessed frame. He felt absolute shame in his knowledge of her body without her consent. And worst yet Highone couldn't even muster the courage up within himself to try and confess. It's said "ignorance is bliss", but for the former TC Champion, Rachelle's blindness to the past weeks' events was Hell for Highone.

And all because of Dante...because of the man who had just entered the room. Highone couldn't take it anymore. He sprung from the chair he'd been sitting in and pounced on Jason like a rabid animal! The two men rolled backwards through the empty doorframe. Darkness lept up, running towards the scrum in hopes of splitting the two men up. He knew Highone was playing directly into Lilith's hands. He also knew Jason was at risk of slipping back into the same frame of mind where personal interest outweighed "right" and "wrong". Darkness rushed into the hallway expecting to see blood-smeared walls and the aftermath of two battle-tested warriors throwing down. It turned out to be quite a different scene.

Highone had Dante pinned to the floor, double-fists clenching opposite sides of Jason's shirt. His eyes glistened, his face awash with a multitude of emotions. Darkness paused and watched things unfold. He knew this moment needed to happen so long as no bloodshed occurred. Jason broke the silence, his voice somewhat strained from the 265 lbs. crushing down on his chest.

Dante: I'm not here to fight.

Highone: Give me the excuse I need you son of a bitch! Hit me so I can put you back in the hospital!!!

Dante: I'm here to help you.

Highone: Help me? I think you've already done enough Jason. Because of you I've lost so much...

Dante: That's why I went looking for you.

Highone: You piece of shi-....

Dante: I didn't mean it like that. I wanted to find you and assist in reclaiming what has been stolen.

Highone: Still concerned with your titles?!?

Dante: N-...

Highone: Typical. Well there are bigger things at play here than your precious belts....m-my soul....Rachelle's....

His voice quivered and trailed off.

Dante: I understand. You can hate me, but let me HELP you. We both can find the redemption we're seeking. But you're going to have to beat down a defenseless man, because I'm not going to fight you ...not again...

Highone: Maybe not today, but at Apeirophobia you'll have to. And when I get my hands on you I'll honor what's been taken from Rachelle...from me. When Infinity decided to put me in the World Title slot all I could think about was how much I the championships...how hard I'd worked to get to the position I'm in...and now...now I realize it was all for a different reason....every drop of blood and sweat was to see you suffer Jason...and starting at the PPV, with your defeat, suffer you shall...

Dante: ...

Knowing silence was the only route to take in order to avoid escalating the situation further, the dark prince bit his tongue. It hadn't been hard to do. Jason understood the forces at play. How could he blame Highone for being so distraught? He was literally a shell of his former self. And Dante also grasped the sense of blame Highone harbored towards him. Compassion replaced any fragment of anger simple words could invoke. The lack of response was met with a huff and Highone's heated departure. After all, it was true...at Aperiophobia the two would have to square off and no punches would be pulled. Plus there was the Drakus factor to account for.

The NHFCs Black King walked over and helped his friend up. Darkness was glad to see that the physical aspect to the altercation had remained minimal. Still, it was concerning to see Highone's state of mind, and the Hellfire captain knew this was a situation with much left to play out. Belfast had only been the beginning.

Darkness: I'm proud of you Jason.

Dante: Still, that could have gone better...

Darkness: We can only control ourselves. What you two unleash on each other at the PPV needs to happen. It will help clear the air between you. Then we can focus on making things right again. No hesitations...don't let things outside of the ring distract you from the task at hand.

Dante: Somehow, with Infinity being in charge of the show and given the stakes, I'm not sure that's going to physically be possible...