Good effort, Mr. Jones. We are pleased with what we see & now would like you to take on another...problem...shall we say.

Cameron stops at the door adjacent to Mr. Deng's temporary office. He looks back at Deng, who stands there smirking & seemingly pleased.

PD-Before I agree to take on this new problem. How can you say you are pleased with what you see in me? I've been back for a couple of months, and have been uncerimoniously dragged to the wolves. Last time I checked, I'm more chum than predator. Most people aren't pleased with chum.

Deng nods & steps out into the hall.

Deng-Ah yes. But what exactly is chum Mr. Jones? It is but a tool. Bait to give the predator a sense of ease & comfort. Then, the greater threat appears, attacks & wipes out that predator. So yes, you are bait.

A quick flash of anger sparks inside Cameron. He quickly difuses the flame & stares intently back at Deng.

PD-Then I think I bid you...fuck off...I'm no ones bait.

PD turns & walks into the locker room, allowing the door to close behind him as Deng smiles.

Deng-Ah Mr. Jones, you are the bait, but you are also the greater threat. We just have to find a way to make it re-appear.
-------------------------

EVERYTHING I DO, I DO FOR A REASON!

The words are more spoken with determination & intent, as oppossed to yelled for effect. Freya sits on the bench, holding a blood-soaked towel to her forehead while Darkness stands leaning against a bank of lockers, arms crossed over his chest.

Freya-I understand that Dante...but nonetheless, overkill isn't necessarily useful when done for the sake of...overkill.

Jason Dante glares at Freya, allowing the tension to rise in the room & permeate his mind. He turns around, opening his locker.

Darkness-You will have more than enough opportunity to what you please to these...miscreants...when the time comes.

Dante-Miscreants? Seriously? What is this to you...a real-life game of Dungeons & Dragons?

He pulls a bag out of his locker & shoving items into it hurridly, he speaks.

Dante-At this moment in time, I don't care anything about these people or their lives or what they've come from or battled through to get here. We've been fucking banished to Eastern Hemisphere. Our trip is long & pointless & annoys me as each moment passes. I am better than this & fully intend to make my point clear. With the support of the New Hellfire Club or without it.

Dante storms out of the locker room, causing Freya to shake her head as she pulls the towel down, looking for a "clean" section to press against her newest "physical memory".

Freya-He's changing Darkness.

Darkness-No...he's just frustrated. He'll come out of this a better man than he was before.
--------------------------

Six doors down the hallway, Cameron Jones stands in the shower, ice-cold water spraying out of the shower-head onto his naked body. He runs his fingers over his clean-shaven scalp, feeling the smoothe skin under the worn & calloused tips of his fingers. His eyes remain closed, but he sees pictures in front of like as if he were watching a movie. His mind continues to flash to the running powerbomb he delivered to Darkness outside of the ring. The power he felt course through his veins. Through his soul.

I didn't want this.

His mind reminds him of the feeling that raced through his body when he locked up with Darkness. The energy he felt. The power he siphoned from him.

I never should have come back.

He does not realize that the ice-cold water that has hit his body is almost instantly evaporating & causing a thick fog to fill up the locker room.

I can't do this.
--------------------------

Walking down the hallway, Dante finds it difficult to pick out a clear though through all the clutter of anger, disappointment, disgust, disdain, rage & self-pity. As he strides past the locker-room that PD is currently using, Dante's mind clears instantly. He senses a strong presence. Something...or someone he has felt before, but not for a few years. He turns towards the door, looking curiously.
--------------------------

Inside the foggy shower, Cameron lifts his head up & turns toward the locker-room as if he feels someone there. He opens his eyes & fire dances behind his pupils.

You might not be able to do this, you fucking pussy...but I sure as hell can.

Cameron Jones walks out of the shower without bothering to turn it off & steps onto the carpeted floor of the locker-room. He looks at the door, grinning like the cat that ate the canary & speaks with a dead-on perfect impersonation of Robert Deniro playing Max Cady in Cape Fear.

Come out, come out, wherever you are

At that moment, as if stepping out from a shadow, Jason Dante walks into the room. Anyone watching would swear that Dante walked through the door, although the board-op that believes he saw this happen, will never be heard from again.

PD-Ahhhhhh, Jason Dante. Welcome to my humble little abode. It's not much, but I have big plans for my new living arrangements.

Dante furls his brow slightly.

Dante-What...you're planning at living in this locker-room?

PD smiles big & lets out a hearty laugh that seems to come from somewhere else.

PD-No you fool...

PD sticks his arms out at his sides & looks himself up & down, then back at Dante.

PD-My new body. Well...I've been in here before...you know...rent to own. Unfortunately, that little fucker found a way in Brazil to get rid of me. Still can't figure out how. BRAZIL of all places. Rio! Carnivale! Home of the most vile disgusting lewd & lacivious partys in the world and that little shit exiles me. Banishes me. One second I've got the flaming hot native of the area bent over a midget who's mixing mai-tais & the next thing I know...BOOM...white light & rose petal scent wafting therough the air & I'm no where I wanna be.

PD walks across the room to the row of lockers as Jason Dante stares at him.

PD-Oh my! Where are my manners?

Dante continues to stare at PD, who is now fully clothed. PD looks at his reflection in the wall mirror, shaking his head & lets out a sigh.

PD-Jeans, t-shirt, hoody. I swear to god...heh...I swear that once I fully take over this guy...some mighty big changes are coming. Armani, Versace, Dolce Gabbana, nothing but the best for my new digs. Not this run-of-the-mill bullshit. New Balance? Reebok? Under Armour? Talk about cross-brand promotion. And Nike? Yeah, I need to pay ol' Philly-Phil a visit. He owes me some favors for services rendered, if ya know what I mean.

By the time PD has stopped talking, Dante is ready for a battle, remembering when these two met up in a church some years back. PD glances at Dante & sees him tensing up. He shakes his head & waves him off.

PD-Simmer down egg-white. We're not dancing today. You see Cameron still has some sort of "super-enhanced" will-power or something that allows him to...we'll say evict me. But it's getting weaker because this is the longest I've been in control for about 2 years.

Dante walks up to PD & gets nose to nose with him.

Dante-We'll "dance" when I say so. Not when you say...Stan. You see, I remember the last time we met up. I still owe you some payback. So maybe what I'll do is wait until he "evicts" you & then take him out...for good.

PD nods slightly, looking down at the ground. He then lifts his head, grinning, the fire in his eyes blazing ever brighter.

PD-I liked you back then Jason. Knew your Dad...Lou. You might even say that he & I had a lot in common. Hell if it weren't for the fact that we're from different realms, universes, realities, whatnot...you could say we were the same person. Now, let me suggest that you run along & let the adults discuss things. I'm trying to conduct some business here & kids are always better seen & not heard...at least the's what Lou & I thought.

A white hot fire erupted from Dante as he threw a straight punch that ended up with his arm elbow-deep in the concrete wall in front of him. PD was not infront of him as was just as the punch was thrown. Dante turned around & saw PD leaning up against the opposite wall, smiling & looking at his fingernails.

PD-Ah ah ah...Temper temper Mr. Mann...I mean, Mr. Dante. The mere mention of your Dad always gets the fire going...doesn't it? Probably because you were such a momma's boy. Oh by the way...Christina & George say hi.

Dante wipes the concrete dust from his sleeve, staring all the while at PD.

PD-Actually George didn't say shit...what an asshole, but Christina...well she didn't say anything either...you know, since it's not polite to talk with your mouth full.

PD makes the blowjob motion with his hand & cheek as Dante continues to steam.

PD-Well, I see you're about to try & be most "uncivil" again, so I'll just go ahead & take my leave now. But don't worry son...we'll see each other again real soon.

As Dante begins to lunge at PD, a knock at the door seems to shake reality & Dante finds himself standing alone in the now vacated locker room. Mr. Deng opens the door & sticks his head in.

Deng-Cameron? I wanted to talk to you about your upcoming match...Oh...Mr. Dante...well, since you're here I'll let you know. You'll be facing Cameron Jones in a singles competition at the upcoming show.

Dante grins & walks past Deng, into the hallway.

Dante-Don't worry Deng, I'll tell him. As it turns out, I'm on my way to go see him right now.

***A few days earlier***

Sometimes it just says “click”, sometimes you suddenly get it as if some kind of magical curtain has been pulled away showing you the backstage tricks that control the props and the effects. Those times are moments of clarity that either frighten or harden you. These times are referred to as as moments of epiphany by some.

Not by Jason Dante though, the muddy waters that made up his life the last few months seemed to clear and slowly give way to the clear blue sea of his own personal, mental Caribbean. Frustration gives way to determination, anger gives way to temperance and for him, light gives way to dark. He ran his right index ringer across the scar Darkness had given him in the old bar so long ago, it felt as if the years that had passed almost had never happened, it felt as if...

“Excuse me, Mr.Dante?”

It had happened yesterday. Dante let the sentence finish before he turned and faced the smartly dressed woman that had just walked into the waiting room. Like most of the people involved in business in Hong Kong, she dressed in a slightly conservative, western style and spoke with only the slightest hint of a Cantonese accent in her English.

“Yes.” Dante replied.

“Mister St.John.Smythe will see you now.”

“Thank you.” Dante replied and walked into the office. As he passed the doorstep, the woman closed the two, large mahogany doors behind him.

Dante looked around, the office was to say the least smart. It had all the style of a western office but there was some Asian icing on the cake in the form of Chinese wood carvings, East Asian plants and a vibe of the orient over the room. Dante fixed his eyes on the man behind the large desk. He let his shoulders down as a sign that he felt relaxed in here.

“St.John-Smyte?” He asked with a grin on his lips.

The man behind the desk shrugged.

“I liked it, it sounds sophisticated...and British.”

Dante nodded with a wolf's grin on his lips and sat down in the chair opposite his host.

“It's been a long time, Jason...” St.John-Symthe said.

“Yeah, too long in my book.”

The two men sat in silence for a few minutes, the time seemed to have driven a wedge between them. In the end Dante asked.

“Did you do what I asked you to do?”

His host nodded.

Dante grinned again.

“Now I understand why you had to hide in Hong Kong.”

“I don't hide, at the moment the U.S Government has bigger fish to fry then me laundering money for you.”

“I am a wanted man in the US...”

The man on the other side of the desk smiled as he handed Dante an envelope containing a credit card and car keys.

“Join the club, Dante...join the club”

Dante opened the envelope and looked at the contents.

“BMW?”

“Call it a favor for an old friend...and partner...”

*****

The door slammed shut behind Dante. He needed to get his mind in order again, he could have sworn that PD had spoken with the voice of...no, it couldn't be. He shook his head and walked away.

Back in PD's locker-room, Deng speaks but Cameron Jones doesn't listen and neither does his demonic tenant. Stan Deville has invested too much time into gaining entrance back into the mind of PD Cameron Jones for him to risk it by letting the unchecked scion of hell wander the hallways of the TCW, the promotion formed a crucial part of his plans, and if Dante was to be around to derai8l his carefully laid plans, he would be forced to retreat and turn the control back to that feeble-minded moron, Jones. That simply wouldn't do at all.

“He has to be stopped...” He said without realizing that Deng was still around.

“Excuse me?”

PD looked at Deng and tried to make sense of his presence.

“Dante...he has to be stopped, you know?”

“Oh...yes he has to.” Deng grinned a grin that Deville liked the look of.

“Would you say that you are the kind of man who could deal with him, Jones?”

Deville let a grin flash on PD's face and nodded.

“Provided you give me complete freedom to engineer his fall...I am.”
“His fall?” Deng asked, startled by the strange expression.

“A manner of speaking, just give me some freedom to plot his demise...”

“Demise? I want to teach him a lesson, not kill him!”

“Another unfortunate manner of speaking...you want him taught a lesson, I will teach him a lesson he will NEVER forget.”

“I like the sound of that...but no killing...”

“Of course not, wouldn't dream of it.”

“Glad to hear that.” Deng retorted and extended his hand before leaving the dressing room.

Deville afforded himself another grin at PD's cost.

“Wouldn't dream of it as long as ruining his last hope for happiness is much more fun...”

Deville whistled as he picked up the phone to abuse his host's money for a necessary purchase.

*****

Dante twisted and turned in his sleep, he had thought the threat from his true father was gone, Lucifer had disappeared so long ago that he hardly could remember. As the chill night air blew in through his open window, he calmed down. His dreams seemed to calm down too as his mind's eye shifted towards a familiar sight, his dream shifted towards his home, to his mansion in Illinois. He saw the large oaken gate, he could almost feel the touch of Selenia's skin and he calm, breath on his face. He could nearly see the steady, innocent breath of his daughter as she slept I her crib.

A smile spread on his pale face as she saw his wife and daughter, calmly asleep under the watchful eye of Jay Ecks. In short, in his dreams, Jason Dante got the paradise reality didn't afford him. It had been so long he had felt the caress of his wife's mind in his mind, so long since her calming presence had been felt in his life. His grin grew wider as he saw his wife moving in her sleep, moving motivated by a dream...he hoped that she was dreaming of him. In his dreams his caressed her cheek and waited for her to stir and open her deep brown eyes...instead he finds her unresponsive...she is breathing but appeared to be out cold. He lifted hey eye lid and found her eye rolled into the back of her head.

“Selenia?!”

No response.

[i]”Selenia!?!”[i]

Dante jumps to his feet, in the dream he dashes out of the room and down the corridor to the room where Ecks had moved in. He find Ecks laid out on the floor. Panic grips him as he turns to rush to his daughter's bedroom. He kicks the door open.

In China, Dante's body is twisting and turning as the dream of his personal heaven turned into a nightmare of hell. Sweat beads on his body as in his mind he stands in the door to his daughter, Meagan's room. In the middle of the room, standing with his daughter in his arms stands PD Cameron Jones, over the sleeping features of PD hovers the image of Stan Deville. The devil he knows has a grin on his lips.

“You wanted to be like, “him” did you, son?”

Dante stares at Deville with rage in his eyes.

“You wanted to be like Darkness, you will have to lose what he has lost, Jason...first I take your daughter...bring her up as my own ,l bring her up to hate her wayward father...then...then I leave you alone...”

Dante charges Deville but as he is scant inches from the captor of his daughter the world dissolves and the crummy flat in China returns.

With sweat on his brow dripping down onto the covers he screams “MEAGAN!” into the night.