No Remorse RP: Penance

In the background, a football match is playing at low volume. Laying in the dark on a posh sofa, a man removes crisps from a bag one by one, entrenched in the match, paying no mind what he is putting into the body of what was once a finely tuned athletic machine. Speaking of machines…

Announcer: Pushing on down the pitch it’s Huth; footwork fancy to avoid the last defender, kick and it’s top right and the goaltender can’t reach it! HUTH GOOOOOAAAAALLLLLLLLLL! Leicester City up three one in the weaning seconds against Manchester City, and their championship hopes remain in tact, this match all but out of reach now for Manchester.

Man: Oh beauty. Chrissake, we’re going to win this year, bloody hell.

Some indie rock music plays faintly in the background on the other side of the room, text alert. He stands from the sofa and marches to the phone.

Man: It’s f*cking late as hell, who’s phoning me this late?

He sets aside his bag of crisps and picks up his mobile and opens up the message alert.

Message From: Samael
It’s almost time. He needs you here.

Response:
Alright. I’ll hop the next flight I can. Thank you.

The man pulls the mobile from the charger, grabs the charger and bolts into his bedroom. He pulls out a piece of luggage and throws in some shirts, jeans and other necessities. On top of the cluttered mess in the suitcase he puts a nicely pressed black suit, a black necktie and zips the case shut. He drags it to his main living area, turns off the tele and pulls up the charter number on his mobile and calls.

On the other end of the line you can hear a woman giving a speech about being thankful he chose Aer Lingus and how she would like to help him.

Man: ‘Ello. Yes, I’ve flown you before. Quick favor for you, quickest flight from London to Pittsburgh, least amount of connections as possible.

Woman: One moment.

Internally, he is screaming at her to hurry the hell up, but he’s a Brit. Must always remain cordial even in times of immense panic.

Woman: Alright, I have a few seats available on a couple of flights that will fly into New York, then into Pittsburgh. The soonest you will be able to leave is six in the morning, and assuming there are no delays you should arrive in Pittsburgh around nine in the evening eastern. Where are you calling from?

Man: Leicester. I can make it to London before six. Yeah, can do that and be ready. I’ll take whichever flight you’re reading to me now.

Woman: Rightyo. Just need some basic information from you. Credit card and passport number, if you would.

Man: Damn, passport. Credit card number is…

The man is reading off his credit card info from his head, confirming all numbers, dates and CCR from complete memory as he shuffles around his cabinets looking for his passport.

Man: **under his breath** Bloody hell where the f*ck did I put that thing?

Woman: Not much of an international traveler to forget your passport mate?

Man: Was once. Emergency circumstance this time. Praying it’s not expired an…AH! Here. And not expired! Glorious.

He reads off his extremely long passport number. Damn Brits and their ridiculous passports.

Woman: Your information has been entered, and your flight will be reserved momentarily. Just two more questions for you sir.

Man: Classify the trip however you need for family emergency. Leisure, business, whatever the hell the airlines consider it. And your second question is my name, it’s David Williams.

Woman: Well Mr. Williams your flight is scheduled. Your ticket will be available for pickup at call, thank you for choosin…

David Williams: You’re welcome. Thank you for your help.

David ends the call, grabs his keys and makes sure he has everything, including his passport this time. Once he is sure, he opens the door to his loft, exits his luggage and he locks the door behind him.

David Williams: I swear to god you better f*cking stay alive till I get there or I’m going to f*cking kill you, Shawn.

Williams slams his door shut and makes his way to the main door of his loft, pulling the phone out again.

David Williams: ‘Ello, yes. Need a taxi. To LHR. Yes. Address listed under this number. Thanks.

Well, here we go.



Walking out of Pittsburgh International, Williams is taken aback. For one, snow. Snow in England is as common as finding a leprechaun in Dublin. And it’s been quite a while since he’s been in this town, weather aside. It’s been quite as long since he’s seen his brother. He scans the area looking for his ride, and as if this were some kind of perfectly written story, he sees Samael standing against his lovely Audi.

David: Sam.

Samael: David.

David: I hardly recognized you. You’re not in your usual getup.

Samael: Yeah, figured jeans and a heavy coat were more fitting than a bushido and a sword. Something tells me that wouldn’t fly at one of the biggest airports in the United States. Might give people the wrong idea about me. And besides, I do have a life outside of the WFWF you know. Occasionally I act and dress normal.

David: Yeah, ‘spose.

Samael: You haven’t changed at all since the last time I saw you. What was it…three years ago almost? The night Scarlett kicked your face in so hard you backed out of your contract with Xavier Pierce to help out Shawn. Maybe a little bit of weight’s been put on. But ultimately, still look about the same.

David: Retirement’ll make you happy and content like a house cat. From what I can gather, you’re heading down that path soon too. Welcome to the club.

Samael: You’re quick to the draw still.

David: Always.

Samael: Let’s get you out of this sh*t.

Sam opens the door for David and walks to the driver side.

David: You mean Pittsburgh?

Samael: Harsh. I’ve taken quite a liking to this town, you know. It’s not quite home, but it’s got charm for a big city. Your brother’ll kill you if he heard you say that. You know how much he loves this place.

David: He’s going to die here.

Samael: Quite literally.

David climbs into the car and shuts the door, Samael close behind. Buckled up (safety first, everyone!) the two take off to the suburbs.

David: Nice car. Donnie paid you handsomely.

Samael: Best part is the midget didn’t even ask for the money back when he vanished.

David: Are you happy that’s over?

Samael: You know, honestly, I’m torn. I love the thought of being out from under his thumb and not having to act the fool and goon anymore. I can be myself without having to be given explicit orders…normally while he was high on a crack binge. Incoherent little f*ck.

David: You’re acting like you didn’t get enjoyment out of any of what you did in your years with the KoKaine Konspiracy. I’ve known you a long time, Sam. What, eight years now? You’ve always been a bloody sadist. Doesn’t matter where, when, why or how.

Samael: No, you’re right. I get a kick out of hurting people. I wouldn’t be in this profession if I didn’t. If I wanted to be a straight athlete I would have done some karate related Olympic sh*t.

David: I feel like there should be a ‘but’ at the end there.

Samael: Nope. I do what I do for pure exhilaration.

David: You can’t honestly expect me to believe you enjoyed smashing a steel chair around the temple of Kyle Matthews.

Samael: Ok, I guess you found my ‘but’ situation. A sadist I am, but a conscience I have. An incredibly guilty one. I get a kick out of it, but only when it’s certain people. Don’t get me wrong, if I’m in a fight, I’m in it to win and ensure I get the last laugh. But some of the career threatening level of damage Donnie had me do…to Jayson, Chase, Cam…you know how I got though it? Simply imagined the faces of Drakz, Trace Demon and Michael Kyzer on every single person I fought. Because they were…are, my ultimate goal.

David: Well you knocked Kyzer off of your list emphatically. And managed to piss of Drakz in the process.

Samael: Hell yeah I did. But that’s why I miss having the midget in my corner.

David: Why?

Samael: Because I’m fantastic at getting under people’s skin.

David: I’ve noticed.

Samael: But Demon and Drakz have some thick skin. Donnie would have already gotten me in the ring with those two if I wanted it.

David: Seems Drakz wants you more than one of his whores on a bender. I’ve seen people bleed and still not be as red as Drakz was last week when you came out to back of JD.

Samael: That’s why I need Trace pissed off at me. To him, Drakz is nothing more than his lapdog. If Isaac does not see that, he’s f*cking stupid as sh*t and a lot dumber than I gave him credit for. I understand the alliance, as many understand the alliance between me and Josh. But Christ I’ve never seen someone so leashed and whipped like Demon has Drakz. And I’ve been married!

Both men let out a little laugh.

David: I can see why my brother took such a liking to you, Sam.

Samael: Yeah, I’m a fun loving ass with violent tendencies. Basically your brother, but a lot shorter.

David: Y’all even share the gimp hand trait. Jesus…did I just say y’all? This is character assassination you’re making me commit.

Samael: I’m good at ruining things.

David: You ever miss when things were simpler? Before all of this?

Samael: Every single day. Now you see why I’m trying to get out, even if it’s with a bang.

David: So what should I expect? When I walk into that room?

Samael: You want the truth or a well rehearsed lie?

David: Give me the lie first.

Samael: Alright. The time’s coming. The doctor who’s been coming in and out to check on him when I’m not around estimates about two weeks, if that. He’s lost all mobility other than simple motions. He can talk, and very gingerly change the channel on the tele. He’s attached to a lot of machines, just shy of life support material. Dialysis, colostomy and ileostomy bags…everything’s shutting down. Honest, everything’s shut down. He’s just got his mind. But he’s losing track of time…a lot more than he was even a couple of weeks ago. He’s not on a respirator yet, luckily. Otherwise he would be entirely trapped in his own mind. But he is having a hard time breathing, which is actually why I dragged you here now, even if the prognosis’ timetable is a little longer than a couple of days from now.

David: THAT’S your well rehearsed lie? Then what’s the truth?

Samael: That I wasn’t actually lying.

David leans back in his seat, covering his face with his hands. Sam makes a quick turnoff and soon the unlikely duo find themselves at the Malakai Estate, high atop the hills overlooking the city Malakai has loved his entire life. Both exit the car, the front door opening and a little girl bursting through and latching onto Samael’s waist.

David: Want to explain?

Sam smiles at David.

Samael: You two have never been introduced. David, I would like you to meet my daughter, Anna. Anna, th…

Anna: David Williams. Chemical Reaction. Shawn’s ass of a brother.

Sam’s jaw hits the concrete.

Samael: ANNA!

David: HAHA! She’s got her father’s manners and abrasive personality. Hello there.

David gets on one knee.

David: So you know who I am, right down to my personality apparently. Who has told you these things about me though? Your father? Shawn?

Anna: I watched you on television. Don’t need anyone to tell me what kind of person you are. Why are you even here?

Samael: Anna be quiet and show some respect.

David: What reason has she to show me anything I do not deserve? She’s only saying what she’s seen on the TV. **David looks her right in the eye** And every single thing you’ve said has been true. But allow me one question, ma’am. You’ve seen Sam do some very bad things on the tele yourself, and yet he gets the red carpet treatment from you at the home of my brother. You apparently know my brother, maybe even better than me. Would he allow someone so bad to come visit him in his hour of need? Where else would Shawn, someone you clearly think so highly of, want the people he needs at such an important time?

Anna: You held him hostage. Made him do whatever you wanted. You made King Kraig sign over everything Shawn had in the WFWF to you. And then you abandoned him after he lost to Scarlett. Why would he want you here?

David: Because he is forgiving to a fault. Very few are as open hearted as he is. Can’t say that trait runs in the family. But I’m still his brother, and there is nothing more important to him than family. Wouldn’t you agree young lass?

Anna crosses her arms and stares a hole dead through David, who doesn’t look away. Sam breaks up the confrontation.

Samael: Ok kids, fun’s over. Anna, I told you not to leave Shawn unless he asked you to.

Anna: He did. He told me to hug you and yell at his brother.

David: **face in hand, laughing** F*ck me.

Sam turns Anna around and pats her back.

Samael: Get back up there, you did your job soldier. Report.

Anna runs into the house, leaving the door open for Sam and David.

David: Dear god there’s two of you.

Samael: Hey, her feisty attitude didn’t come entrly from me. You should meet her mother sometime. Love her to death, but damn is she bullheaded. I’m a pushover compared to her.

David: Samael the Satanic Pushover. Has a nice ring to it, mate.

Samael: F*ck off or I’ll leave you out here to freeze.

David: Point taken.

David grabs his bag from the back of Sam’s car.

David: So why did you leave a nine…

Samael: Ten. She just turned ten a few days ago. Had a big party. Phoe came down, met Shawn; got an understanding for the circumstance Anna and I, and now you, are in with Shawn. She made him blow out the candle with her.

David: Why did you leave a ten year old with him alone?

Samael: Not entirely alone. Nurses come in and out. But he likes the company. She remind…

David: Of my niece, yeah, I figured. Never got the chance to meet her, only through stories.

Samael: I run her back home if I’m not taking her to a show and am going to be gone long term. But little stuff like this, I let them have time alone. She looks at your brother with the same eyes she gives me, and when he passes, she’s losing as much a father as she would when I die myself someday. But they’re therapeutic for one another. She keeps him cognoscente and he tells her some incredibly tall tales of our younger days. She’s enamored by him, and by this business.

David: Think she’ll want to give it a go like Scarlett?

Samael: I hope not. I really hope not. If she wants to be involved in the business from a technical standpoint, go to college and get an engineering degree and be the main stage operator then by all means. But I don’t want her to ever step into that ring as a competitor.

David: And if she chooses to?

Samael: Well we had Wayne versus Scarlett at one point. I don’t desire to come out of my eventual retirement and try and fail like he did with his daughter. Hell, the one who saved Scarlett was Shawn himself. Took her clean out of the business. Just don’t want to see it, but she still has some growing up to do first.

David: She’s incredibly mature for her age. I’ve never gotten properly destroyed by a ten year old before.

Samael: Does Trace’s mental capacity count?

David: HA.

The men make their way into the house, locking the door behind them.

Samael: ANNA! COME DOWN HERE. I CAN’T COOK WORTH SH*T.

Anna: **from upstairs** LIAR.

Samael: GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE DAMMIT.

Like thunder, Anna comes bolting down the grand staircase and bumps into David, turning to look at her dad.

Samael: Say sorry.

Anna: **turning to David, smug** Yeah. Sorry.

Samael: A…

David: It’s fine. You’re quick. Nothing to apologize for.

David gives a quick wink to Sam who shrugs and pulls Anna down the hallway.

David: **under his breath** Now or never.

David ascends the master stairs, seemingly much larger a feat than in his younger years in this house with a healthier Shawn. But, on instinct, he heads directly for the study and opens the door, the shades pulled closed. Shawn would always be found in here, sickness or health. Always on his damn computer watching some old film or reading books older than David or him combined. He closes the door to the study and realizes that it must be bad.

He was not prepared for this.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

David opens the door to the master room wide, the stench of disinfectant and self-medication wafting through the air, hitting him like a sack of bricks. He takes one step into the room, the beeping getting even louder and drowning out the thoughts within his own head. He closes the door behind him and walks forward in the dim room, stepping passed one of the monitors and he sees him.

His own flesh.

His own blood.

Shawn Malakai.

His deathbed.

David: Hello.

Malakai lightly turns his head, his eyes glassed over, sunken into his skull. The sight almost makes David vomit.

Shawn: Hey, little bro.

David slowly makes way towards his brother.

David: You look…

Shawn: Like a zombie. Or sh*t, as you’d put it.

David: Can’t get anything passed you can I?

Shawn: Never….could…

Shawn hacks away, violently and involuntarily jerking his neck forward, his chest cavity looking like it can’t tell if it wants to sink or explode.

David pulls the chair closest to the bed forward and accidentally knocks Samael’s sword down, the room so dim he didn’t even notice. He picks it up right quick and leans it back against the chair, now leaning forward grabbing hold of Malakai’s hand lightly.

David: Why would you do this?

Shawn: Do…what?

David: Bring me here. To see you like this. The last time we saw one another was almost two years ago. I ran. Christ I ran, as far as I could. You were killing yourself every time you stepped in between those ropes, and that match with Scarlett…I just couldn’t. I only signed on for the paycheck Xavier was giving me. He saw promise and hope for you to get the title away from Trace and Scarlett, even in your terrible state of health then. I was just to be your muscle so no one did anything stupid…but the only one being stupid was you. I cane for the paycheck but I…I couldn’t sit back idly and watch you kill yourself for what I considered a lost cause. We didn’t leave off on the greatest of terms before Xavier asked me back. In fact, I’m pretty sure the last time we were around one another you put me through a table to help your Revelation brother, O’Deeves, beat me, your real brother. But I took keeping you safe a lot more serious than I expected…because through everything I had realized something. You WERE my brother.

He leans forward more.

David: After the accident…I knew exactly what I was meant to do. Get angry. Fight. Be ruthless. I lost my family. You know the feeling better than anyone, your battle having been much more public than mine because you were a public figure before you became a wrestler. I fought that battle alone. I was nothing and had nothing to lose. But I wasn’t really alone, was I? You were at my side from the moment I joined up here. We took on the world together. Everything that bastard Thunder could threw at us, we took and kept on fighting. And this was before we knew we were brothers. All of those good times, traveling from show to show, just trying to stay afloat and keep our anger subdued just enough that we wound up in victory lane and not death row. Our paths broke entirely after SuperBrawl…I betrayed my own blood to try to get ahead, and yet after everything…you’re the one everyone fought for. You’re the one everyone wanted. I was left to my own devices as I watched my brother ascend the ladder of the WFWF, taking extreme measures to remain in your place without going so far as sniffing at betraying anyone. How did our paths stay the same course for so long yet turn out so entirely different?

Shawn: David…

David: No. I know. You were always able to keep your head. Sure, you lost what was in there a couple of times, throwing yourself off of towers to prove a point, literally lighting yourself on fire to make someone else say they quit because they couldn’t stand to see you hurt anymore…you’re a f*cking masochist but if you don’t just ooze respect I never properly gave you…

Shawn: David…I…I didn’t ask you here.

David: I mean, I know the c….wait, what?

Shawn: Sam…told me you contacted him…wanted to see me….one last time…reminisce...berate…something.

David: No…no no no. Sam…he texted me yesterday, today, whatever the bloody hell these time zones mean, don’t keep track anymore. He told me the time was coming, and you wanted to see me. And I didn’t want to see you like this, but I would rather make amends with the living than at your funeral with a eulogy no one would want to hear from me.

Samael: Rule number one, never EVER trust a man named after a snake.

David shoots around in his chair, Sam leaning in the doorway waving at the brothers with a smug grin on his face.

Shawn: I…I don’t have…to be the only…one who dies in this house this week.

David: Funny, I was thinking something incredibly similar.

Sam puts a finger up to his lips telling them to be quiet.

Samael: There’s a little girl down there who I would really appreciate having NOT to hear this conversation.

David: You’re a right bastard.

Samael: You sound like my ex wife.

David: I can see why the ex part came about.

Samael closes the door and turns on the desk lamp next to Malakai and pulls up the other chair, riding it backwards to the bedside.

Samael: You both were around when that Ryan Riddle jackass was still part of the WFWF, right? So this line won’t be lost on you? Let’s play Riddle Me This with the Williams family. Shawn, born Shawn Williams in Leeds, England in 1976. Given up for adoption at birth by Patrick and Trisha Williams, unable to care for a child at that time. Brought to America by a Catholic missionary couple unable to conceive, Michael and Sandra Malakai, in early 1977. Shawn is given the name Malakai, and until ten years ago, is none the wiser. Ten years later, in a much better financial situation and fully capable of taking care of a child, have a little boy named David in 1986. Let me ask you. Legal birth certificates aside, Shawn, you were entirely naturalized as a US citizen and David continued his life in now Leicester where his family moved. Let me ask you this. At what point did the two of you find out you were brothers?

David: 2008.

Samael: And who told you of this?

Shawn: King Kraig.

Samael: Yes, yes he did. Now he was wrestling savvy, don’t get me wrong. But him and his clunky Napoleon Weisgarber…they could sit for days trying to put the triangle block in the square hole. So how did Kraig find out?

David: He never right said. Just that he had information that I would be interested in, and he wasn’t wrong.

Samael: Remember I told you to never trust a snake? Well I need you to trust one now.

David: What’s the point in trusting a snake if it always lies?

Samael: Because if I always told the truth, I wouldn’t need to ask you to trust me when I say I never meant for it to go as far as it did. I just started working for the WFWF at the time, and I wanted to get a good idea of what I was going against. I wanted as much info as I could on everyone who was around at the time. Trace, Possessed Child, Jake Slash, David Williams…and WFWF’s giant. I dug too deep, and couldn’t keep my mouth quiet. There was so much information about Shawn Malakai online. His rising star in WFWF, but before that a seminarian. The pride of this little part of Pittsburgh, he child everyone loved. Diagnosed with a form of giantism young. Loss of a child…all public record. You never made any attempt to hide your information. But something stuck me as odd. What happened in your first year? Because there was no birth record of a Shawn Malakai in Pittsburgh, Morgantown, Cleveland…any of the major hospitals in 1976. And let’s face it, Malakai’s a name that would stick out like a sore thumb anywhere.

He takes a deep breath.

Samael: I told Kraig. I found the records. Somewhat illegally mind you, but that part shouldn’t surprise you. I went to him thinking he could bring you two together. You’d latched to one another already after the fall of Projekt Hardkore. You were embarrassing Thunder, Kurt Burton, Wayne McGurk and the entire Axis establishment on a weekly basis. You were basically brothers already, wouldn’t it be good for you two to know you really were? I didn’t have the chutzpah to come to the two of you one on one…on one, because I was nothing but a green rookie with a butch cut and a katana. A freak with a pretty nasty scar that no one would, at the time anyways, take seriously. I never imagined David would go to such extremes. Anna may be young, but she’s a straight shooter. She called your spade, David. You were rotten.

David: I should kill you right now.

Samael: No, Shawn should. Everything that happened to you after that you deserved. I know about your accident too. No one deserves that. But after Texas Massacre, even though Reckless came out on top, the real winner was Shawn but Christ sake you put him through a living hell, forcing him to do all of your dirty work. And where did it lead you in the end? I f*cked up, but you were truly a monster.

David: I don’t need to hear this preaching from a f*cking Satanist.

Samael: No, David, you do. You both do. I had the best of intentions. I just didn’t have the courage to come to you directly at first. And this is pretty good coming from me now probably too late. But this is me coming forward now and trying to make amends.

Shawn: Patrick and Trisha…the names of my real parents. 39 years later. How come you never mentioned their names to me, even when things were leveled off a few years ago?

David: Wait, you’re not absolutely furious about this sh*t?

Shawn: Why should I be? He…he brought me my….brother. Twice.

David: But h…aww f*ck. Sam, let me ask you something?

Samael: I suppose I owe you a few questions, deserved or not.

David: How the hell do you always manage to get yourself out of absolute trash situations of your own creation and almost look saint like?

Sam lays his head on his hands, smiling at David.

Samael: Perhaps Lucifer wasn’t the only fallen angel after fighting God himself.

David: Anyone ever tell you how egotistical you are?

Samael: Daily, actually.

David: Good.

Samael: But now that you mention me getting myself into absolute trash situations, heh…this is going to be uncomfortable…buuuuuuut I’ve got a favor to ask of you, David.

Shawn: What…you didn’t…actually ask…him?

Samael: I’m a good guy, I swear. But I get a kick out of showboating and lying, especially when it pisses people I don’t like off.

David: What makes you think I would do you any favors?

Samael: Because I’m not the only who needs to make amends. I may have lied to get you here, but you sure as hell came quick enough out of a guilty conscience.

A small noise is heard from outside the door.

Samael: Come on in, Anna. You don’t have to act like I didn’t know you were there the whole time.

The bedroom door creaks open and the young girl slides in and looks at her father.

Anna: How’d you know?

David: Shadow. Light. Under the door. We both knew you were there.

Sam snaps with his left hand and points at David.

Samael: Good, you’ve not lost your perception. Good. Very good. Excellent, actually. That means there’s a chance. Anna, grab that bag I stashed in the closet, the one your mom gave me last week.

Anna dashes out of the room.

David: Sam, what are you up to?

Shawn: You’re not…gonna like it…brother.

David: Oh god.

Samael: God had nothing to do with this one. Remember, car ride here, you mentioned me pissing Drakz and Trace off right good, aye?

David: Yeah…so?

Samael: Did you watch the entire show?

David: No, but I read about your run in with W…olf…oh f*ck no. F*CK NO.

Samael: Wits still in check, we’ve got something good here, Shawn!

Shawn lets out a little chuckle from his bed as Anna bolts in with a red gym bag. She tosses it to her dad, who unzips the top hurriedly.

Samael: I stepped into some deep sh*t and I need help getting out. I don’t usually ask for help from anyone. Advice maybe, but never help. But I told a little white lie that’s likely to get me killed by Drakz, Trace Demon and Trevor Wolf if I don’t deliver.

David: No. Dammit I’m not doing this. Shawn, f*cking tell him I’m not doing this, especially for him.

Shawn: Then…don’t make it from him. I…set Sam in motion…two years ago. He got…overzealous. And you owe me…a favor.

David stares Shawn straight in the face, his eyes even worse in the light. The scent was terrible but he was growing used to it, but the emaciation on Shawn’s face causes bile to grow inside of David’s mouth, which he disgustedly swallows down what came up.

Samael: My wife, handy photographer, but she made my bushido hat I wear. Quite the seamstress, must say. So I asked her if she’d be willing to put together some gear suitable for a man with the blood of a champion running through his veins.

Sam pulls out a pair of wrestling boots and a pair of trunks, the latter he tosses to David, who runs his hands down the sides of the trunks, smiling.

David: I’ll give you this, the design if fantastic. And it fits you two bastards to a T. But I can’t do it.

Samael: Why not? I’m in some sh*t and Shawn asked for your help. Is that not reason enough?

David: I’ve not wrestled proper in almost five years. And you’re expecting me to get into that ring and carry a green as a clover rookie to a win against two former WFWF Champions? My name isn’t even in the record books. At least you two have merit. I’m not the least intimidating to them.

Anna: They won’t see you coming.

David looks at the little girl, whose attitude still hasn’t much changed towards him even after hearing the whole conversation, but she’s a little lighter in her tone.

Anna: And we have something on our side.

Samael: We?

David: Yeah, we?

Anna: What? You really think I don’t consider myself part of this group?

Samael: The hell you do. You’re ten, and my daughter. Don’t talk like you’re an adult in the WFWF.

Anna: Well maybe some day I will be.

David and Sam exchange glances, a reminder of their conversation earlier about Anna’s future.

Shawn: Anna is right. We’re…all family here. And…I know exactly what she…means with having an advantage.

David: I’m listening.

Shawn: Josh. You really…think he’ll g….give it his all?

David: He has to, or Trace is going to fire him. He made that pretty clear.

Shawn: You….you have to be part sh….showman to be in this…business. I…know Josh…well. He’ll cut corners…in smart ways to outwit…Demon and Drakz.

David: Sounds like you’re anticipating this to be almost a three on one, or at least a two on one.

Samael: And I fully intend on being at ringside to run interference. I’ll find some way to let Dean in on it…and if I can’t, he’ll figure it out.

David: You’re that confident we’ll be able to pull this off? Sounds like the heist of the century.

Samael: Damn skippy it is. And by the way, I like the way you used ‘we’ in that sentence. Yeaaaah you’re in. Don’t know if it was Anna, me, Shawn or a combination…but you’re a sucker to stick it to people when you get the chance. And you never got a proper send off anyways. What better way than to get your name in the record books than in your final match in WFWF? Win with Wolf, free up the titles from those two, and go down in history as the man who helped put an end to Drakz and Demon.

David: I can’t believe I’m about to help the man who sabotaged my relationship with my brother.

Samael: Ay, no. You did that on your own dudeI put the information out there, don’t blame me for how you used it. But you can make reparations for it. Put those on one last time and do the Williams-Malakai family proud.

David feels the trunks more, closing his eyes and remembering his time in the ring vividly for the first time in years.

David: **looking at Malakai** The Saint. **looking at Samael** Satan.

Samael: And David Williams, the sinner seeking revenge. Or retribution.

David: My penance. How fitting.



How did it come to this? Just a few days ago I was quietly enjoying my retirement from life, completely checked out and ready to watch Leicester go all the way this year. Now I’m in Philadelphia, about to fight one more fight…the fight of my life, all because of a lie in a text. Rule of thumb, never trust a snake.

When I came to the WFWF almost…Jesus…ten years ago almost now. Right, I’m getting too old for this/ Right, when I came to the WFWF…I was angry. I’d lost my daughter in an auto accident, something horrific that will never leave my mind, the sight of the mangled car. My daughter hooked up to machines to give life to whom was already lifeless. My daughter was no longer with me, with us, the living world. I wasn’t about to let machines keep her trapped inside of her own mind. I did the impossible, and flipped the switch, turning out my little girl’s light forever, the day my sun went black.

I never fully recovered from that day. I was never as public with my battle as Shawn was, but I was never as out there as my brother. It’s almost sickening how much our lives mirrored one another’s in our path to get to WFWF. The loss of a child. The pain. Anger. Rage. Desire to inflict harm on others…even if we weren’t brothers, we made for a damn good correlation story.

He never sought what I did though, that being power. Neither of us were in control of what happened that broke our families. We were powerless. You would think the powerless would strive to control all, right? That’s where Shawn and I differed. He simply wanted to honor his daughter’s memory, I sought to become so powerful that the pain would be numbed away. That drive to be the one in charge of something, someone…it caused me to do some heinous things to my own flesh and blood. Maybe that’s why I was so angry at him. Success was lined up for me much like a red carpet for a highly touted actor. I won’t say I was the chosen one, but it was clear, after my intentions were known to the world, that I was the man the establishment wanted to see succeed. Not Reckless, and especially not Shawn.

In hindsight, perhaps it’s because they felt they could use me. Shawn could not be used. Was he forced into acts he wouldn’t have otherwise done? Yes, but that was business. To Kraig, Shawn was dangerous. He has always had this…aura about him that’s undeniably strong. It draws all sorts to him, good and evil. Samael was a dirty rat for withholding that information and rather giving it to Kraig, but much like us, he was young and stupid. I don’t forgive him, but that’s partially because I look at what is left of my brother and wonder how much of that pain within him I caused because of Sam’s good willed intentions gone horrifically wrong.

And now, here I am, the surprise partner for Trevor Wolf, hand picked by Sam himself to take down the new establishment, Trace Demon and Drakz. I was the one who was SUPPOSED to succeed, but I’m most notably remembered for being tossed off of a ladder through a table so Jon O’Deeves could win his first of many WFWF National Championships. Instead they’ll forever remember my brother for his courageous battle against cancer, both within the WFWF and himself.

Will people even remember my name? I sort of…blend in. I’m hardly stopped on the streets, asked for autographs or pictures, hell the only reason Sam’s little girl knew me was because she is so absolutely in love with my brother it’s borderline an unhealthy obsession. But hey, that’s her father’s business. But he’s got a nightmare ahead of him when she gets older. It’s going to be the Wayne McGurk Show all over.

Sidetracked again. Damn. Sam made this giant, elaborate story up to Wolf, Sleater, Drakz…the whole crew that he had a partner for Wolf. He was bringing the blood of a WFWF Champion to the fight. Naturally, that sick f*cker Drakz is probably hoping it’s my brother who can’t even get out of his bed to take care of…personal business even. How far the man has fallen, and it breaks my heart to see it. Yes, I have a heart, surprise to many. But he’s building me up to be this fantastic wrestler who is going to bring Trevor Wolf to the promised land. I’ve still got the natural talent I was born with, but there’s a reason Shawn is a former WFWF Champion and I’m only in the books as a loss to O’Deeves.

Then there’s Josh Dean who’s stuck in the middle of this whole mess. I can’t say I sympathize with him per se, because I have a thing against anyone who was around during my time I was not able to best. Call it a grudge. Call it jealousy. But this is a terrible predicament he’s in. Drakz, Wolf and myself have absolutely nothing to lose in this match. Dean could lose his entire livelihood should this match go sour, and he’s still got a family to look after.

But I look at Drakz, who is so sure he’s pulling all of the strings. A terrible man with all of the control over the life of a man just desperate to break out from under the thumb of the man and get a fair shake.

Now where have I seen that story played out before?

Oh, that’s right. I did it first. Sure, I don’t have the accolades Drakz has, but I orchestrated Shawn’s every move as he is attempting to do to Dean. I’ve got some bad news for Drakz though. When he steps into that ring against me, he will truly be looking at his future. Drakz has no control. He only THINKS he does. He’s being controlled by Trace Demon, much like I was by King Kraig. He’s not afraid to play with fire, I’ll give him that. But I thought he was smarter than to allow history to repeat itself. It appears that Drakz is not nearly as smart as I assumed in my many years prior.

This is the final time I will ever lace up a pair of wrestling boots, win or lose. The serpent wrapped cross decal on my tights was an incredibly elegant touch Sam’s wife added into this story, but this the last page of this book. If we lose, I’ll have fulfilled my end of the bargain with the devil, and honored my brother’s final wish of me. And should me and Wolf manage to pull off the single biggest upset in the history of the WFWF, and let’s face it, a never was and a green clover toppling two WFWF Champions and taking their titles with less reverence than Penny Shannon uses to take other men and womens girlfriends would be one hell of an upset, I will allow Wolf to hand pick his own partner. Likely it will be Sam, or one of the other new guys. And I’ve never met the kid, but to have the balls to stand up to Drakz and Trace Demon and Josh Dean and say he’ll not only fight but win? You’re gonna go far, kid. Much farther than me. You’re already a bigger name than I ever was. Best of luck in the future. Tonight, I’ve got your back.

But after being tricked into this match…ya know what? I’m kind of looking forward to it. Going out with a bang. It won’t be as spectacular as Shawn, or as ruthless as Phillip Schneider, but I’ll finally put my stamp on WFWF history. And thinking about it, what I always wanted was control…but now, in the end, I’m ok with just being remembered as the ghost who killed Drakz and everything he ‘stands’ for. Yeah, not bad.

I may be gone after this, but my shadow will live on without me. And try as they might, even in the black of night, it will be an ominous one that Drakz and Trace Demon will never, ever be able to escape. I relish the thought of my ghost haunting those bastards. To live forever in infamy as the man who started the teardown of the establishment of the WFWF for good…now that’s just service of penance.