Post by Deleted on Sept 20, 2019 14:13:32 GMT -6
“I AM BATTLE BORN!”
Roadside Motel @ Toronto, Ontario, Canada | September 17th, 2019
I wake up two days after the Rumble match at Ignite, a sluggish and lethargic mess. I have no clue at all of where in the Hell I am. I rub the sleep from my eyes as I try to take in the sights and sounds in an attempt to gather my wits and take in my surroundings. I can smell years of cigarette smoke and cheap perfume in the popcorn ceiling. Wood grain panels line the walls and there are deer heads and bull horns mounted above doors and low windows. I roll over and fall out of the bed with a dull thud, next to me is an empty bottle of Empress 1908 and a six pack of Molsons, a couple of them dry from last night. Seedy motel, check. I wince as I look out the window through the crack in the drapes, the light hurting my eyes. Hangover, check.
I hear the annoyingly familiar buzz of my iPhone, and when I go to answer it, I find it charging on a chair next to a small table. Several missed calls from Allison and dozens of texts from her, Ani, Damon and even from Kal. I set the iPhone back down on the table next to a folded sheet of paper addressed to ‘Wheelman’, and a thick envelope. I unfold the paper and it read “Thanks for your service. Until next time. - Bishop.” I don’t know if I’ll be alive for a next time. But now I can finally put this nightmare to bed, try to repair the damage that it's caused on my family and get back to some semblance of normalcy. I don’t even know how I’m going to explain the truth to Allison, but I have to find a way.
My penchant for working on cars and bikes, as well as my exceptional driving skills are no secret to some of the folks from my past. And when you’re associated with an FBI Special Agent as well as an undercover DEA agent with a history of wetwork and black ops, every now and again you get called upon. After the shitshow with Nomad and the bikers whose ire he raised, it put me back on the radar for some contacts who needed a mechanic and a wheelman. I tossed the note aside and grabbed the large envelope, slowly I peel the seal open and reach inside and I dump out several stacks of $100 bills with a sticky note affixed to one of the stacks; “For your troubles. Best of luck with A. - Dylan.” Paying me for my work, that’s all well and good, but making me keep shit like this from my wife is asking for far more trouble than any amount of money is worth. My iPhone starts vibrating again, and once more it’s Kal’s name I see on the screen. With a tap, I take the call on speakerphone, squinting my eyes and pinching my temples with the thumb and middle finger of my freehand and clear my throat.
DANE
“What’s up Kal?”
KAL
“What’s up?!? Mother fuck, Your wife just fucking drove a fucking car into the lake! That’s fuckin what’s up!! She could’ve fucking died!”
DANE
“Whoa Kal, hold on, what are you talking about?!?”
I hear some arguing in the background and what sounds like the phone being fumbled around. A female voice gets on the line.
VOODOO
“It’s time for you to come home. Allison is not well and she needs you. Now Dane. No questions or excuses or I will hunt you down and castrate you personally.”
DANE
“I’ll be on the first flight out.”
If there is one thing you don't do in this family, it is take Voodoo's threats lightly. After hanging up with Voodoo, I called Rich to book me a flight back to Jersey. Once I’d had a chance to shave and shower, I was well on my way to a private airport to board a small chartered cargo plane. Once my motorcycle was loaded and secured, I got settled in and called Allison, but my call was sent to voicemail. So I tried Ani’s phone next and was sent to voicemail again. What the fuck is going on at the Compound? A few minutes later, I got a call from Sarah and she was able to explain what happened.
Somewhere in Alaska | September 20th, 2019
I finally found a nice quiet place to sit and collect my thoughts. Beautiful mahogany panel walls, the scent of Douglas Firs hanging in the air, and a comfortable seat beneath me as I sit at my table. Now if I only I could order something to eat. I take in the architecture of the building when I notice the N.E.W. camera crew was cuing me to begin my promo.
DANE
“I remember watching wrestling back in the late 90s and 2000s, I remember some of the greats from way back then. You had people like Vhodka Marie and Bryan A. Dyamond, Stellar Giuliani, Dave Mitchels, Curt Rock, and Bobby Ciccone. Sometimes enemies, but longtime friends of my family. Then you had some of their rivals, Josh Manhunt, Stephen Stratford, Raine R. Rivid, Joe and Paul Montuori, Corey Bradley, Jason Jarrett and Cameron Vincent. There were also some extremely talented folks like Jesse Styles, Shane Sparx, Falcon May, Sean Galen, Hudson McKnight and countless others who graced my television screen on a weekly basis. Color me partial, but my family brought it hard to all of those guys and gals. Any time you booked Kal, Damon, Vincent, Voodoo, Ani, Shane or any of the extended family, be it part of Bloodpact, D4L, UnCivilized, NextGen, FYA or Wolf Pack, you know you were witnessing something fucking special.”
“THE KIND OF SPECIAL”
“…that had the fans coming back for more…”
“But then you had a group of guys that were the special of a yellow short bus type. A special class of guys that quite frankly had no business being in a professional ring, back then it was guys like Jerry Watts, Napalm Death, Tavein Extreme and Kristian Oss. Today it’s guys like Matt Haven and Kyle Manson. In case you haven’t noticed, there is a name that was not mentioned previously. You see, this name doesn’t fit up there with all the greats I’ve listed off throughout the years. He doesn’t even rank on the most memorable rivalries list. He belongs with the group I just mentioned. This guy somehow finds a way to get himself involved in some of the big name feuds and events, despite having little to no star power of his own. In case you’re dumber than rocks and you haven’t figured it out yet, I am talking about you. For years, I watched and thought that I would see something in you that would make fans take notice. Something that would catapult you into the upper echelon of the industry. Sadly, that never happened for you. It would appear that you somehow maintained the status quo, and you rose through the ranks out of sheer determination and your blatant unwillingness to let go of what never will be. I can’t even call you a has been, because the truth of it is…”
“YOU’RE A NEVER WAS”
“…parading around like you’re a gift to this business…”
“The only gift that you could ever give to the wrestling industry, would be when you announce your retirement. And if I have any say in the matter, that may very well be in your future. You see, you walk around the locker room acting like you’re better than me, what, because you’ve been here since the inception of professional wrestling. Like I told you earlier this summer, you’re a dinosaur that has long since passed its expiry date, and I aim to remove you from the business. But, I admit, I got distracted and focused on the wrong target in Johnny Stylez, when in truth, I should have put you down at the first opportunity. I made a mistake and I don’t plan on letting that go unaddressed. There is one thing that I will give you credit for, and that’s your ability to adapt to the times and constantly try to reinvent yourself. And that’s where crediting you stops. No matter how hard you try, no matter how many times you reinvent yourself, you will always be that same old, try-hard hack that my family, and all those greats I mentioned earlier, have been putting their boots to over the course of your entire career. Be that as it may, you’re still here, you’re still trying to fill the void left by Damon and Kal and Vincent and Voodoo…”
“DON’T MAKE ME FUCKIN’ LAUGH!”
“…you never possessed half the skills they do…”
“So here we are. Scheduled to face one another for a brand spanking new Championship. While you may think that you are worthy of such an accolade, that title was practically named for Yours F’n Truly! Go ahead, try and tell me I’m wrong. Try and tell me I didn’t beat you in one of my first N.E.W. bouts. Try and tell me I didn’t just eliminate you from the Rumble match at Ignite last week. Try telling the world that simply because you have tenure in the business, that makes you better than me, more deserving than me, and more fucking bloodthirsty than me! Go ahead and try, I fucking dare you. Because the reality is that I will call bullshit on you so goddamn fast your fucking head will spin. Let me tell you why that title was named for me. I’ve been fighting for my very survival since I was a fucking child. My entire youth was a trial by fire. My war stories began long before they should have for a child at that age. Broken home. Abandoned by my mother. Ignored by my drunk of a father, that’s unless he went into a blind fucking rage and started wailing on me as a means to take out his frustrations for my mother leaving. There’s a damn good reason that I got expelled from so many schools and thrown in jail during my formative years. It’s because the only language I knew was communicated solely by delivering fists and feet to those who only thought they understood the language of violence. People like you. People who try to pass themselves off as a badass, when like you, they’ve been humbled by true badasses for decades. The outcome of our match, it’ll be no different than the outcome of any of the matches you’ve had with true badasses in this business. Heh, it’s actually pretty fucking ironic that I’m facing a guy that my father in law used to use for a punching bag. I’ve put Damon on his ass a good amount of times, and even put him through a fucking table once.”
“A TABLE IS TOO GOOD FOR YOU!”
“…you’d look so much better inside a coffin…”
“Or a fucking wheelchair at the very least. But I could go on for days and days about why I’m the heavy favorite to win this match. But what’s the point? Where’s the fun in that? Instead, let’s talk about how I inspired the sick, twisted and depraved person that you’ve become once again. Wasn’t it only a few weeks ago that you were hunting for Deacon Horrible after what he did to your daughter? Wasn’t it me that helped you shake off your watered down personae and resurrect the afflicted version of yourself, so that you would have that nasty edge to be able to take on Deacon? Wasn’t it me that encouraged you to let your walls down and allow your inner monster to take over once again? I didn’t do that to help you. No, I did it to help me. Because while you’re busy at war with yourself, it makes it so much easier for me to come in and destroy you in a fragile state. I didn’t encourage you to shake off this weaker version of yourself just so that you could turn around and beat me. No, I encouraged you to question who you are, to fall back into old habits, just so that I could reap the benefits of you being distracted by your own inner machinations. It was the easiest thing in the world for me to corrupt you, to convince you to pick up the bottle again, to coerce you into giving into your weakness again. Do you know what that says about you? It says that you are weak of will and weak of mind. It says that you are not on my level be it mentally or physically. What, are you surprised? Come now, you can’t be shocked to learn that...”
“YOU’RE DUMBER THAN FUCKIN’ ROCKS!”
“...but that’s not news to any of us…”
The camera zooms out to reveal that I am not in a posh restaurant, but instead a funeral parlor. To the immediate left of the table I’ve been sitting at is a closed casket, on the table directly across from where I’m sitting, is a framed portrait of James ‘Morbid’ Wolf.
“There has never been a more despicable, talentless, delusional wretch in this line of work than James Wolf. A man, who despite his best efforts has never and will never reach that top tier of the business he so loves. Instead, he has been and will repeatedly be broken, beaten and scarred by those of us in the industry with real talent, real skills and real athletic ability. Sadly though, these constant beatings have never deterred his drive, no matter how many times he loses, he makes excuses, he claims he’s still better than those who had just victimized him, and he refuses to accept reality for what it is. He could never be one of us, he never was and never will be better than us, and he could never, and will never, ever beat ME. Sure, he thinks he could, but that’s due to his instability and poor mental health. When our match is all said and done, and I’m crowned as the FIRST EVER BATTLE BORN CHAMPION, I’ll be most proud of the fact that it was I, Yours F’n Truly, Dane Preston who finally put this pathetic miscreant out of his misery. Just like I said I would. Ladies and gentlemen, this has been the Eulogy of James ‘Don’t Call Me Morbid’ Wolf. I’d like to thank all of you for not coming to pay your respects to a man who clearly doesn’t deserve them.”
I get up from my seat and make my way to the opposite side of the table. With one hand I lay the portrait of Morbid Wolf down face first and stare into the camera. Using my other hand I swipe my thumb across my throat.
Private Airstrip, NJ | September 17th, 2019
After touching down at the private airstrip, I wasted no time gunning it out of there and hightailing it to the compound. My heart was racing. What the fuck was Allison thinking? I know that I wasn’t myself lately, and I couldn’t be completely honest until the job was done, but it was for the safety of her and the babies. All I can think about right now is how our conversation is going to go. The airstrip was only about a half an hour away from the Compound, when you followed speed limits. I made it to the front gates in seven minutes, the exhaust pipe on my bike was glowing hot as the bike sputtered on the approach to the Riggs Estate. I hadn’t even reached the house yet when I saw what looked like a gang coming down the front steps. Allison was in the lead and she looked to be fuming. I killed the bike, leaned it on its kickstand and barely had a chance to get my helmet off before Allison slapped me and started to hit me with closed fists. Ani and Voodoo were about to grab her before I waved them back. My princess needed to release her anger and I was man enough to stand there and take what I had coming to me. She was mid punch when she turned into a blubbering mess of tears, sniffles and hyperventilation. As Allison collapsed, I caught her and knelt down to the ground with her in my arms. I looked up and saw Voodoo, Angelique, Kal, Murphy, Sarah, Ani, Roger and Marie, I nodded for them to take off. This was something that needed to be resolved between me and my princess.
DANE
“Baby, I need you to focus on your breathing. Try to calm yourself…”
The look she gave me was a mixture of anger, confusion, and relief all at once. Before leaving Canada, I made sure that I was showered and shaved so I didn’t look like the fucking mess she thought I’d reverted back to. How was I going to tell her that I hadn’t really been on a bender. She reaches up and rubs my cheek where she slapped me, it stings to the touch. Her breathing steadied, if only slightly, enough for her to start the tongue lashing.
ALLISON
“How could you do this to me? How could you do this to us? To our family.”
DANE
“Oh princess, I don’t even know what to say right now. I know what you think was going on, but I promise you it wasn’t what you think it was.”
ALLISON
“Oh really? You want to know what I think? What it looked like was you breaking a promise to me. You promised me that you would never put me through that again. And you went and did it again.”
DANE
“It had to be that way. I was called away to do some driving for Dylan and Bishop. They told me it was undercover and that I couldn’t tell anyone. Not even you. They said I’d still be able to meet my contractual obligations, but I had to stay away from the Compound. Away from you and the kids…” I had to clear my throat to tell her this next part. “I saw people die the first night I was driving for them. I had a couple of drinks afterwards to take the edge off. A couple times I blew off more steam than I should have, because I have to be honest, I wanted to shit myself on these stings. But most importantly, being away from the three of you, it was more than I could bear.”
ALLISON
“You couldn’t even tell me, Dane? You would rather have me think you were a lying piece of shit that would have rather hit the booze than to let me know? Do you know what I have been through these past few weeks? Do you know that every time to phone rang I was expecting it to be the cops, for me to come down to the morgue to identify your body?”
DANE
“I know what you must think of me. I wanted to tell you. I really did. But these were some fucked up people. I helped save lives. I helped Dylan and Bishop put away some really terrible people. I know that’s not an excuse for lying and it’s certainly no excuse for me nursing the bottle again. But I need you to know, that job is done. I’m back home and I am finished with alcohol. And I’ll do whatever you need me to do in order to make things right again. But first, what in the Hell was going through your head? You launched the Chevelle into Kal’s fucking lake!?! I told you I needed a bit more time, I told you I was coming back and you went and did that!?!”
ALLISON
“You’re not the only one who can drink and do crazy things, Dane. I was mad. You know how I can get when I’m mad. I am my father’s daughter after all. It just seemed like the right thing to do at the time. I thought I had lost my husband and that he was never coming back.”
DANE
“I told you I just needed a little more time. I’m back now. And I’m not leaving like that again. But we’re going to have a serious talk about your anger issues and how you deal with them. My dad was like that. Your dad is like that. Granted, my dad was piss drunk and your dad is a professional wrestler. Even so, what you did was fucking reckless. You could have died Allison. I grew up without a mother. Did you even stop to think for one second that your decision could have left Luke and Leyla without a mother? Does that really seem like the right thing to do?”
ALLISON
“...Not at all. All I cared about was hurting that car as much as I was hurting. I didn’t even think about my babies, Jesus, what kind of a mother am I that I would do something like that? Damn, Ani’s a better mother than I am right now.”
DANE
“Now that’s just crazy talk there, Princess. There is no other woman that I know that dotes over her children as much as you do. And I won’t stand and listen to you talk in that manner about yourself. It’s my fault you’re feeling this way, I never meant for this to happen.”
ALLISON
“Kal is so mad at me right now. I feel like I have made a mess of things. If my Dad and Jenna knew what I did. Oh God, Dane, everyone must think I am crazy.”
At almost that exact instant I felt my iPhone start vibrating in my pocket. We look at each other with our eyes wide having the same “oh shit” moment. I pull my phone out and I see several missed calls from Damon. I give Allison a look and slip the phone back into my pocket and get to my feet helping her up as I stand. I nod in the direction of the garage and we start walking.
DANE
“Your father can wait. You’re not a child anymore. This is something that you and I will work through. Together. What kind of shape is the Chevelle in anyway?”
ALLISON
“Really Dane, you want to talk about that now?”
DANE
“Yeah, I kinda do. Because we are going to rebuild it together. Again.”
ALLISON
“Okay, then I guess now is as good a time as any to tell you that it’s totaled.”
DANE
“I have yet to meet a car I can’t rebuild…”
I barely finish my last word when we walk into the garage and I see the extent of the damage on the Chevelle. The entire front clip was crushed; bumper, grille, fenders and hood, all crushed. The car was parked under some bright shop lamps, which can get pretty hot, Kal’s doing I would guess, which works out perfectly to help dry the car out faster. I turn and give Allison a scolding look when she gives me an uneasy smirk and a shrug in return.
DANE
“You really did a fucking number on it didn’t you…”
ALLISON
“Can you stop already? I’m not proud of what I did, alright?”
I unzipped my vest and reached into the front pocket of my hoodie, pulling out the fat envelope with the money I received for helping my brother and Bishop. I handed it to Allison and gave her a nod to open it.
ALLISON
“Where did all this cash come from, wait do I even want to know?”
DANE
“It’s all perfectly legal. Not like we needed it, but it will more than pay for the rebuild. As long as the frame is still straight, I can work with it. Just gotta give it a good once over to make sure it’s still mechanically sound.”
Allison handed the cash back to me and I slid it back into the front pocket of my hoodie as I continued to inspect the car.
ALLISON
“I should also tell you that the tranny was sticking between shifts…”
DANE
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that was user error…”
I look back to see her staring daggers at me with her arms across her chest. I go to her and kiss the top of her head before taking her by the hand and led her over to the car. Just like the first time the car was rebuilt, we would be doing it together.
//fin.