The term ‘Champ, Champ’ seems to be the new thing in wrestling. It’s a moniker I could earn, but could care less about. The term, that is. I have the opportunity before me, where I can not only remain the SCW World Champion, but I could reclaim the SCW United States Championship as well.
Bree, as I knew she would, came out and confronted me the Breakdown after Retribution, planting the seeds for a potential match. Let’s not forget her comment to me on Twitter, about how I had a receipt coming my way.
And she made good on her word. I can’t take that from her. I found myself pitted against Xander Valentine. I knew she was going to strike, as I didn’t really buy into the whole ‘Bree isn’t here’ bullshit. Especially with me in action. Xander and I tore into each other, hitting one another with all we had, trying to gain an advantage and keep it, trying to hurt the other, to fuck the other up beyond all recognition and repair.
And then, she struck. Bree hit me in the back of the head with the SCW United States Championship. The commentators told the world I appeared injured. It hurt. I can’t deny that. My bell was rung in many ways that night, and the world around me began to spin in opposite directions as pain coursed through my body. The medics were checking on me, but I wasn’t going to let her fucking win. Not in the least. I let the world know that my enemies hadn’t found a way to kill me yet. Bree and I exchanged pleasantries over social media, and then, the powers that be made it official.
I would face Bree at the next pay per view, with not only the SCW World Championship on the line, but the United States Championship would be up for grabs as well.
I want to continue my reign, to keep it out of Bree’s hands, as long as she remains the way she is, with her head shoved up her ass, while remaining in the shadows of others. But I’d have no problem with reclaiming the United States title, because I feel I owe the championship a debt that I bestowed upon it in 2012.
After knocking Shilo Valiant off his perch to gain the title, back when people had counted me out and stopped caring much for me, I wore that title proudly. I defended it proudly, but like Bree, I had my head up my ass. I let the championship slip through my fingers, and I was never able to recover despite any opportunities presented to me. I had to deal with the thoughts where I felt I didn’t wear it as proudly as I had told myself.
I owe the championship, just as I have owed the World Championship. I was a tarnished version of myself when I first held the World title. I have busted my ass to wash away that shadow of my first reign, just as I plan to do the same with the United States title.
I’m not going to take a page from Kimberly Williams’ book, because God knows Bree had a bitch fit over that. I am just going to do what I said I was going to do. I will bring the fight to Bree’s doorstep, to light the fire that will eventually burn the concept of Breeamerica into nothing more than fucking oblivion, to leave Bree in the abyss where she belongs, trying to figure out what went wrong, why she was left with absolutely nothing.
I told Sienna I wanted to murder her career, and her legacy. Sienna is struggling to regain her footing, because despite stacking the odds against me, she failed. No one is buying into her confidence, into her arrogance. The same shit Bree has put on display, but to lesser effect. At Cold Blooded, I will do the same to Bree as I did her best friend. Because I want to. Because I need to.
Because it will be the right fucking thing to do.
Because it has to happen.
She will become a far bigger piece of shit than she already is, if she manages to hold both championships. She will have more power than she can handle maturely. And that is why she needs to be destroyed.
__________________________________
Trinity Burning XI
February 2020
The Trinity Institute
Abel brought the car to a stop right outside the gate. He looked at his eyes in the mirror. There was no soul there. Just blackness. He let out a sigh, knowing he still had so much more work to do. He climbed out of the car, before reaching into the backseat, pulling out a shovel to check it before throwing it back in, as well as a Bowie hunting knife. He looked at the blade, ripples of blood stained it. He smiled before gently gliding his tongue over it, tasting his victims. He felt it in his stomach, and he spat it back out, the taste mixing in with the sickness that he had for his victims while they lived.
He opened the trunk, only to find a pair of eyes staring up at him. There was anger. There was fear. Most importantly, there was life in them. The body beside those eyes was long gone. There was no life. He looked at the live one, and smirked. “Tell me Superman….” He said, raising the knife up, letting those eyes see it. “Was it worth it?” His smirk faded. “I sent your love to be an actual angel. I did something you couldn’t. I gave her everything she ever wanted.” Abel brought the knife closer as “Superman” began to shout, though the shouts were muffled. “So, was she worth stepping into my crosshairs?” He chuckled. “I don’t believe it really matters at this point.” Abel plunged the blade inside as the shouts became muffled screams, until there was nothing but eerie silence. He took a moment to take solace in that sweet sound of nothing.
He reminded himself then, of the work still needing to be done. He closed the trunk and placed the knife in a sheath attached to his belt loop, before climbing the gate. He landed on his feet and looked around. The coast was clear, and he made his way to HER house. The lights were off, so he went around back, kicking out the glass in a basement before climbing inside.
Once inside, Abel took his time climbing the basement steps, before slowly opening the door. It led to a kitchen. He went through a few drawers, grabbing a few kitchen knives, telling himself he’d allow Breemerica’s leader to choose. He felt it would be a nice and subtle touch. After taking his choice, Abel stepped into the living room, taking a seat in a chair that rested in the corner, and he waited. He figured she was out, enjoying life. He wanted her to do that, because once she was home, Abel was going to take it all away from her.
It wasn’t because he wanted to.
No, he felt he had to.
That it was the right thing to do.
The only thing to do.
He slowed his thoughts as a car pulled up outside. He heard doors closing, followed by drunken laughter mixed in with sexual innuendos. A deadbolt coming unlocked, and the door swung open. She was with her movie star boyfriend. Abel told himself he would be nothing more than a casualty of war, but a life he’d enjoy taking. She talked about getting a shower. He said he’d join her soon. She took off upstairs, and the boyfriend entered the kitchen, turning on a light, as Abel slid out of the chair, remaining in the shadows, striking at the right moment, placing a hand over his mouth as he allowed the blade slide up the boyfriend’s spine, twisting as muscles and bone shattered. Abel kept his hand over the boyfriend’s mouth before finishing the job. As the life faded from those eyes, Abel whispered. “You deserve an Oscar for that performance.” He gave a wink and then there was nothing.
Abel stood up, towering over the body, taking a moment to admire his work, before turning his attention to the stairs. He let out a heavy sigh, before walking up. He heard her singing a joyous tune. He paused at the top of the stairwell, letting her finish as Abel told himself it would be her last.
He watched her walk through her room, a towel wrapped around her body. It reminded him of her mentor. A redhead named Amy. She managed to get away from Abel, but he told himself that he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.
That was when he stepped into the doorway. “Hello.” She gasped and quickly turned around. They locked eyes. She went to scream, but he shook his head. “There’s no need. Your boyfriend. He’s gone. Gave the best performance of his career.” He said, lifting the knife, before slowly stepping into the room. “Just as it would be if you and I were to step into the ring against one another…” He gave a smirk as he continued. “There is no one here to protect you or save you. The only thing left is to take what is coming to you. And you can fight if you wish. I’d prefer it that way.” His smirk faded.
Through her fear, she spoke with anger. “Fuck you.”
“Defiant ‘till the end!” He snickered. He shrugged. “You know what? I will give you a fighting chance. I will give you a shot. You have to make it good.” He went to continue, but she threw a lamp in his direction, hurling at her with all she had. He dodged it, and that was when she took a chance to make a run for it, but Abel grabbed her. She drove her elbow into his jaw. He dropped down, dropping his knife before wrapping his arms around her waist before flinging her to the ground.
“I hope that wasn’t your best shot.” He said before reaching down and grabbing her by the hair, pulling her to her feet. He turned her to face him, before headbutting her. She groaned as her eyes rolled to the back just a little. “Nope. Nope. Stay with me here.” She spit in his face, and Abel chuckled. “You nasty little bitch.” He growled before grabbing her with both hands and slinging her into the wall. She crumpled to the floor. Abel walked around her, before driving his foot into the middle of her back with as much force he could. She cried out, before he rolled her over onto her back.
He dropped down, driving his knee into her chest. With one hand, he grabbed her by the hair, lifting her head off the floor. “I can’t fucking stand you.” He said, before driving his fist into her face. “I! Can’t! Fucking! Stand! YOU!!!” He shouted, before letting her head fall back to the floor, her face covered in blood running from her nose and mouth. The blood mixed with tears.
He sighed. “I know it hurts. It needs to. I need you to see that you are a lot more vulnerable than you present yourself to be. That you’re not as strong as you pretend to be. That when they are no rules, I can really fuck you up. The pain and the blood should be enough evidence of that.” He chuckled. “You see in a wrestling ring; we are in a controlled environment. You have some protection. Here, I’ve taken all that away. You tried to fight but your fear consumed you, breaking you down. I’ve remained calm and in control the entire time.”
He reached over, grabbing his knife off the floor. “I need you to see that while you’ve had it in your mind for so long that you’ve had the power, the truth is simple. You, along with your friends…Superman and the Angel, have never had it. I have.” He said, pressing the tip of the blade near his chest. “Hell, you could have fought just then and shoved this fucking blade into my heart, but you’re weak. And powerless. At this rate, I’m doing you a favor.” He then glared at her, before tossing the knife away. “I want you to lose it all by my hand.” Abel stated, before wrapping his hands snugly around her throat. The sounds of her fighting for air, and her hands slapping against his arms, filled the room but he maintained his stance, squeezing tighter and tighter, until everything was gone. He looked at her eyes now bloodshot, and the blank expression on her face, and Abel couldn’t help but feel the one thing he didn’t think he would.
Complete.
He brought all the bodies, one by one, to his car, loading them up in the trunk, before climbing inside and driving through the night. He came to a stop, pulling off the side of the road near a heavily wooded area. Grabbing the shovel, and one of the bodies, he walked into the woods, and dug a hole, ignoring the feeling of being tired, as well as the sweat running off his forehead. He tossed each body before refilling the hole. He returned to his car and drove home.
He stood in his bathroom, looking at his reflection. The blood on his face. He then looked down at his hands. They were covered in dirt and blood. He began to wash them. The dirt and grime came off and slid down the drain, but the blood remained. He scrubbed harder, but it was still there. He grinded his teeth as he scrubbed even harder, but the blood did not leave his hands. They were stained like his soul was with bloodlust and anger. He scrubbed a little more, but the blood still remained. He lifted his hands and did all he could think to do. He screamed and cursed his hands.
He screamed even when he woke up, no longer near the sink, but in a bed. The white walls squeezed in a little tighter, as Abel continued to scream, looking at his hands. Orderlies rushed into his room, and he quickly went on the attack, not knowing what else to do, his hands striking anyone and everyone near him, clawing and ripping away with flesh, before they became too much, pinning him down to the floor. He tried to fight, cursing them as he did his hands.
And then he heard a voice.
McIntosh’s voice.
He looked up and saw the doctor towering above him and the orderlies. They locked eyes. “Who are you?”
He managed to reply despite his body still struggling against the weight of the orderlies. “What?”
McIntosh repeated his question, his tone far more serious than it was the day before. “Who. Are. You?”
“I’m James…I’m James Evans…” Abel stammered, trying to calm himself but to no avail.
McIntosh shook his head. “No. That is not who you are. Now, tell me who you are…or we will put you under once again. And from the looks of your face, I don’t believe you want to do that. So, who are you?”
“I’m…I’m…” Abel found himself growing further and further into a panic. He knew the truth would set him free. Giving McIntosh what he wanted would be his salvation. “I’m…I’m Abel…I’m Abel! Goddamn you!”
McIntosh nodded. “Sit him up.” The orderlies lifted Abel off the floor, before he was placed in a chair, with his hands being restrained behind him. He did all he could to catch his breath as a chair was brought into the room as the doctor took a seat. “Are you alright?” He finally asked, as Abel stared down at the floor. He wanted to see his hands, to see if there was blood there, as whatever he saw felt all too real.
“Are you alright?” He heard McIntosh ask once more.
Abel sighed, slowly lifting his head to where they locked eyes yet again. “What did you do to me?”
McIntosh snickered. “I did what was necessary, Abel. I did the right thing, whether you choose to see it that way or not.”
“Why?” He hissed.
“I needed to know who I was truly dealing with. Now that the truth has come to light, we can move forward.”
Abel glared. “What do you want from me?”
A soft grin appeared on the doctor’s face. “You will see soon enough.”
__________________________________
Manhattan
He swallowed the rum, but he couldn’t get over how Braelynn Evans shouted at him. “The man you sent to Trinity is not my husband!” The words cut through him then just as they did now.
“What do you mean?” Bram Theron had asked, feeling like the world was being ripped out from under him. He looked at Sheila Williamson. “What is she talking about?”
Williamson nodded, letting out a sigh. “Do you remember our discussion about Amelia Jenkins?” He nodded, as realization washed over him. He tried to find the words to say, the will to speak, but he couldn’t, as he knew the truth. “James Evans has the same condition she does. They both experienced enormous amounts of trauma throughout the course of their lives.”
He shook his head. “He has a voice in his head. Like a different personality. Is that what you’re telling me?” He asked, trying to make sense of it. It felt like puzzle pieces that wouldn’t fit no matter how hard he tried.
“Yes.” He heard Braelynn state. She looked tired and beaten down. He felt for her, causing Bram to wonder if he could have done what James, or whoever he had been dealing with, had done in order to bring someone like McIntosh to justice. “His name is Abel.” She said, releasing a heavy sigh.
Bram looked down, running his hands over his face as he exhaled, shaking his head as guilt began to rise within him. “Abel?”
Williamson nodded once again. “Due to the trauma, his mind created a voice named Abel. James relied on him, finding the voice as a coping mechanism. Just as Amelia did when her created Ivy. And just like it happened with Ivy, Abel is in full control of James at this point in time.”
“So, I’ve been dealing with…Abel…this entire time?” He asked.
“Yes.” Williamson said.
“James has wanted to get rid of McIntosh and the Trinity Institute for a very long time. Abel has wanted it even more.” Braelynn said, looking like she was trying to catch her breath.
Still trying to make sense of it, he looked at Williamson. “How is this even possible?”
“Abel was created as a coping mechanism. That grew into something so much more. James never confronted his issues with anger. That stimulated Abel, making him stronger. Abel has taken James’ anger toward McIntosh and the will to see Trinity crumble, as his own.”
“James wasn’t too sure about going against McIntosh.” Braelynn chimed in. “Abel, however, wanted it more than anything else. My husband was all for it in the beginning, but it became much more personal for Abel, while James just wanted to leave it be. Abel couldn’t do that.”
“Jesus Christ…” Bram said with, sighing and shaking his head once more. He felt anger blending in with his increasing guilt, as he looked at Williamson. “With all due respect Sheila…” Another sigh followed. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me this in the beginning?”
“You’re right.” She replied, looking down. “I should have. I can’t change that. I’m sorry.” She said as she looked up.
James’ wife spoke once more. “He’s right. You should have.” Braelynn glaring at Williamson, before she looked at the detective. “And you…You shouldn’t have let Abel go back there. It doesn’t matter if you knew about him or not. My husband…” Tears began to fall once again. “Or whatever is left of him is in that God forsaken place…And…” Bram noticed she was beginning to struggle a bit more with breathing. “And…you let him…you let him go….”
“Mrs. Evans…” He asked, as he took a few steps toward her. She almost fell out of the chair, and Bram rushed over, catching her, holding her in his arms. He looked at Sheila, telling her to call for an ambulance. They waited with her until paramedics arrived. They followed in Bram’s vehicle, staying with her in the hospital, as doctors ran tests on her. He hated how upset Braelynn had been. He cursed himself, telling himself that he should have known something was up when “James” didn’t seem all that concerned with leaving his wife.
“I’m sorry, Bram.” Williamson said as they sat in the waiting room.
He rubbed his hands together, trying to calm himself. “I don’t guess it really matters now, Doc. He’s in there, because I put him there.”
“You had no idea.”
He looked at her, glaring. “I know that I didn’t. Because you…” He said, pointing an angry finger at her. “You didn’t tell me. You knew I was looking into Trinity. You knew I was interested in working with James. You should have told me everything about him.”
“Would it have made a difference?” He looked at her confused as Williamson continued. “You wanted to get McIntosh as well.”
He went to speak but couldn’t. He questioned himself, wondering if it would have made a difference. If he would have still pushed for Abel to go into the facility. He shook his head and climbed to his feet. He walked into Braelynn’s room, where she seemed to rest. Her eyes closed, he whispered. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Evans. I’m sure it doesn’t mean anything, but I am going to do all I can to get Abel…to get your husband…out of there.” He exhaled heavily. “I hope you will be able to forgive me. I never wanted any of this, and I’m sure James wouldn’t have either.”
He stepped out of the room, going back out into the lobby. He and Williamson locked eyes. “Keep me updated, please.” With that, he left. He got into his car and called Haskins, informing him of everything. His Superior was, as predicted, none too pleased.
“What the fuck do you mean you didn’t send James Evans into Trinity?”
“It’s complicated. In ways that I still can’t comprehend.”
“Well, you better comprehend that shit and make me understand it really fucking quick, Bram.” Haskins fired back. “Better yet. Meet me in my office. We will discuss it then.” The call ended, but Bram didn’t go to the office. That was when he returned home, drinking until he blacked out.
When he woke up, he saw that he had several missed calls from Haskins. Several voicemails, each angrier than the last, followed. He grabbed a shower and got dressed for the day. Before he left, he stepped into his mother’s room. Like Braelynn was, she rested peacefully. He whispered. “I love you, Mom but I wanted you to know that I’m not as good as you’ve thought I was.” He sighed. “Yesterday I found out something that’s probably placed my job in jeopardy. And I was asked…” He chuckled and shook his head, knowing the truth before he spoke it into existence. “I was asked if I could have changed my mind had I known the truth. And now that I’ve thought about it, I don’t think I have.”
He looked down, closing his head, cursing himself as he had done off and on for the last twelve hours. “I know you’d be disappointed if you knew all the details.” He kissed the tips of his fingers and placed them on his mother’s forehead, before leaving the room and the house. He drove in silence, letting his guilt consume him once more, except he didn’t have alcohol with him in order to ease it off his soul. He parked his car at the office, and sat in his car for a few more moments, telling himself that he could just go back home. He shook his head. “I can’t run from it forever.” He eventually said out loud, before getting out of the car and heading inside.
Once inside, he went straight to Haskins’ office. Silence remained between them as his Superior closed the door behind them. “Sit down.” He said, coldly. Bram did as he was told, telling himself that he had to bite the bullet. That he couldn’t dodge it any longer. That he deserved whatever punishment that was coming his way. That whatever Haskins planned to do would be like child’s play compared to what James, or Abel, would do if they found out what happened to Braelynn. Bram told himself he’d deserve that, too.
Haskins sat down at his desk, and they locked eyes. “Do you know how to follow an order, Detective?”
“Yes, sir.”
Haskins chuckled. “You see, I can’t help but laugh when you say yes. The reason being is that I told you to come to the office yesterday. It was an order. And what happened? Do you care to enlighten me?”
“I went home and drank until I passed out.”
“I knew I smelled something. That booze is seeping through your bones, son.” Haskins stated. “Now, do you have any stones, Bram?” The detective said nothing, as Superior then continued. “You told me that something had happened with this case against Trinity. That the man you had as an informant was not James Evans, despite you telling me his name was James Evans. When confronted with talking to me face to face like a man, you ran and got hammered.”
“I’m just as disappointed…”
Haskins cut him off. “No. I highly fucking doubt that you are, son.” He sighed. “I need you to tell me what the fuck is going on, and I need you to do it fast. Do you see where I’m coming from?” Bram nodded. “Then, enlighten me.”
Bram cleared his throat, knowing what he was about to say was not only hard to believe, but that it wasn’t going to save him in any way, shape, or form. He began to unravel all the information, growing nervously with each passing moment, which each word spoken, telling Haskins about James as well as Abel.
“Goddamn it.” Haskins finally said, letting out a heavy sigh. “How did we get in such a cluster fuck of a mess here, Bram?”
“I don’t know.” The detective said. “I wish I did.”
His Superior nodded, letting out another sigh. “I think I have an idea as to how and why.”
They locked eyes. “You do? What’s that?” Bram asked.
“You’re in way too deep, Bram.” He began. “You’ve gotten way too involved, and you’ve lost sight of what is important.”
He shook his head. “No, that is not it…”
Haskins cut him off once again. “Let me finish.” He shook his head as well, before continuing. “I understand you want to close this case. I know it has meant a lot to you. I know you’ve done a lot of hard work, despite the twists and turns it has taken. But those twists and turns have also clouded your judgment.”
“Please don’t do this, sir. Please.” Bram began to plead.
“I’m sorry, son.” Haskins said, his voice heavy like Bram’s heart as it sank lower and lower into the pit of his stomach. “I’m going to take you off this case. I think it is in the best interest of everyone involved.”
“Please…” He began to plead even more. Bram finally sighed, looking down and away for a few moments, nodding as he slowly accepted his fate. He locked eyes with Haskins one again. “So, what about my informant? Do we pull him out?”
“No.” Haskins replied. “From what I’ve gathered, he has a much bigger hard on for this McIntosh fucker than you do. I’d say he is still very valuable to this operation.”
“But he was my informant. And it’s not really James.”
“That’s fine, Bram. And he is an informant of this Department for this case. Which you are no longer a part of. You need you to understand that.”
Bram shook his head once more. “And if anything happens to him then I will be the one who has to live with it, sir. I need you to understand that. That is why I say we need to pull him. I am fucking begging you.”
“I understand. Your words will be taken into consideration. Until such time, I need all the information you have on this case so I can pass it along to someone else who won’t get so emotionally involved.” Haskins replied. “As for you…You need to take some time off, I believe. So, take the leave. Clear your head, so you can come back better than ever.”
Bram held his Superior’s gaze for what felt like an eternity. He said nothing, as he knew he would land in even hotter water if he opened his mouth. He got up and went to his desk, gathering all information requested, before leaving it on Haskin’s desk. He got into his car and began to drive home, cursing himself even more, because not only had he failed himself, but he had failed James. Even Abel.
And now, there was nothing he could do about it.
__________________________________
The Trinity Institute
Abel continued to glare as McIntosh replied. “You will see soon enough.”
He shook his head. “No! Tell me!”
McIntosh sighed. “We can discuss that soon, my friend.” He paused. “I forgot. We aren’t friends, and I have to tell you something. That really cut me deep. I mean, if we’re being honest and really looking at your situation, Abel…I helped bring you to the surface.”
“You infected James’ mind.” He hissed. “He was nothing but an innocent fucking child…an innocent pawn in some game that you created in your head.”
McIntosh shrugged. “That is a fair assessment. I will give you that. But,” He said, as they locked eyes. “Have you ever considered the fact that you’re still playing the game? Because you are. If you don’t want to play my little game, then you wouldn’t be here, Abel.” Abel looked down and away, as the doctor continued. “How is that for truth? Oh, I forgot. You don’t seem to know what that is.”
Abel looked up and he chuckled. “Something funny?” McIntosh asked.
“You want to talk to me about being truthful?” He shook his head. “Give me a break, Doc. You’ve done nothing but lie to James since day fucking one. Ever since he was a child…ever since his mother just handed him over like he was damaged goods, like he wasn’t worth her time and effort, and you played her just as you toyed with his mind.”
“And you’ve come here to toy with me, Abel. You are here for revenge. I knew that as soon as you came clean about who you really were.” McIntosh fumed. “And I could do so much to you now that you’re in my facility, under my care. But I don’t want to bring you any harm, Abel. I truly do not.”
“What do you want from me?”
“You said I infected James’ mind, but there is a silver lining.” McIntosh stared intensely, as Abel said nothing. The Good Doctor continued. “It brought you to life, and I stand by my word. My word being that you are James’ true nature, the nature he hides from, the very personality he’s tried to bury because he fears who and what he truly is.”
Abel shook his head, trying to ignore any power clinging to McIntosh’s words. “James has told you before that he doesn’t want to be a monster. And I won’t allow you turn him into one, either.”
“Oh, get off that, Abel! You’re talking way too much like James, instead of being you.” McIntosh stated, rolling his eyes. “What happened to you? Did you go soft when you left here last time? I know it was you. James shut himself off from you. You walked in his shoes. Did you enjoy life on the other side?” Abel said nothing. McIntosh smirked. “That is a yes. You were learning what it meant to be human, I’m sure. Did you contemplate daily life based on what James would do? Tell me I’m wrong.”
Abel said nothing. He wished looks could kill as he glared at McIntosh, who continued to speak. “That is a yes, as well.” He shook his head. “I’m sure that hurt you, Abel. When James left you. Did he leave you once again?” Abel remained silent. “He did, didn’t he? This is just further evidence that James isn’t strong like you. You don’t need him. He’s always needed you. You are nothing more than his scapegoat, Abel. Tell me that you can see it?” McIntosh sighed, removing his glasses and wiping the lenses. “Your vision may be as clouded as my lenses, but just as I can with them, I can wipe away the grime, Abel. I can help you see clearly.”
“Stay out of my fucking head!” Abel growled. “I know what you’re trying to do. You’re trying to get me to turn on James. And he may have left, but it is because of the poison you planted in his mind. You corrupted it and left it in shambles. All the pieces have been coming together, and it has overwhelmed James.” He exhaled heavily, trying to keep a level head, knowing McIntosh could pick him apart if he let emotion get the better of him. Feeling slightly calm, Abel continued. “But that doesn’t make him weak. As much as he’s survived, well I don’t know about you, but that is nothing less than the strongest of the strong.”
“Tell me.” McIntosh began. “What did you see while you were under?”
“What?”
“What did you see? Did you see yourself acting out violently?”
“How did you…”
McIntosh grinned. “I know you, Abel. You and James share the same mind. James always held that anger inside. You let it out. So, I’m sure you committed acts of violence while you were under. Am I correct?”
“Yes.” Abel said weakly as he remembered the images of Chris Cannon and Sienna Swann, lying in his trunk, butchered. He remembered taking Bree Lancaster’s life as well.
“Let me ask you another question, Abel.” McIntosh leaned forward in his chair, as they locked eyes. “How did you feel? In our dreams, we can feel things. We can experience all kinds of emotions that follow us when we wake up.”
“I’m sure you heard me screaming, so I’m sure you have a good picture of how I felt.”
“That is what I saw visually, yes. But I am asking you how you felt while you were under. Did you feel free? What sort of acts did you commit? Did you just attack someone, beating them as James beat Lance? Or did you do something more…extreme?” McIntosh grinned as Abel suddenly felt lifeless. “Did you murder someone in your head?”
“Stop.”
“You did, didn’t you?”
“Stop.”
“Don’t be afraid, Abel. You’re free to be who you truly are here.”
“Stop! Stop! Stop!”
McIntosh stood up, shaking his head as their eyes locked once more. “No, no. You need to stay here, Abel. You need to open up. It will be your only saving grace.”
“You’re fucking insane.”
“No, my dear boy. I am your liberator. Do not run from me, Abel. Did you take the lives of others in your mind? Did you? Did you feel free?”
“Please stop.” Abel said, his words weak once again, as he looked away. “Just stop. Don’t make me say it.”
“But you need to say it, Abel. You need to. You must!” McIntosh persisted. “Did it feel freeing to you? Like there were no restraints on you or your life?” Abel shook his head, trying to avoid answering at all costs. “Stop running, Abel. Stop it! Be here. Be in this moment. Tell me. Did…you…feel…free?”
Abel growled as his body shook. He wanted to break free. He wanted to hurt McIntosh, to take life from him but in reality, not a dream. But he could do nothing except answer. “Yes…Yes…” He squeezed his eyes shut as tight as possible. “I felt…free…”
– – – – – – – – – – –
Braelynn Evans drove alone. With where she was headed, she wished she hadn’t, but she felt she had to go. She knew it was against doctor’s orders. They had told her to stay hydrated and to avoid stressful situations if at all possible. They had asked her if she had anyone to call, asking about her husband. She remembered having to fight back tears, as she said her husband was away for work. Dr. Williamson checked on her and she told the doctor she was fine, before Braelynn was left alone.
It got to be too much as she called the only person she could think of.
Katelyn.
“How are you sweetie?” She asked as she entered the room, giving her a hug.
Braelynn recalled smiling through tears, knowing she could finally let them run free. “I’ve been better if we’re being honest. Doctors said I needed to stay hydrated, and to avoid any and all stress.”
“I can see why that’s important, honey.” Katelyn said, taking a seat in a recliner across from the hospital bed where Braelynn rested. “I take it that there has been no word from that husband of yours…” Braelynn went to answer, but felt weak, overcome with sadness as she buried her hands in her face. She felt Katelyn wrap her arms around her as she spoke once again. “Wherever he is, I have no doubt that he’s okay. You know James is strong.”
She shook her head and Katelyn stepped back, as they locked eyes. “He’s back in the same facility he went to last year.”
Katelyn nodded. “So, he had another mental break? At least he was strong enough to realize it before it was too late.”
Braelynn shook her head again, knowing Katelyn had no clue about the true hells in the mind of the man she had a daughter with. “No, you don’t understand.”
“What is there to understand?”
Braelynn sighed heavily, hoping she could keep it together long enough to utter the horrible truth. “It’s not James.” Katelyn seemed to freeze up, staring at her like she had seen a ghost. “It’s…”
Katelyn cut her off. “Abel….” Braelynn nodded. “How…how…how long has this been going on?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I didn’t know for a few months when he came home last time…”
“Wait…that was Abel when we threw a surprise party for James?” Braelynn nodded, feeling guilty beginning to build within her. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“I didn’t know then.”
“How many goddamn times has Abel been around my daughter?” Katelyn asked, as she glared at Braelynn, the anger becoming more and more visible on her face and in her eyes with each passing moment. “Tell me. Tell me now.”
“I honestly do not know, Katelyn. James did come back for a little bit…but he found out…” Her voice broke. “He found out something and it killed him.”
“Abel tried to kill one of my daughters…one of my little girls…” Katelyn growled before getting to her feet. Braelynn watched as she ran hands over her face. “What…what did James find out? What was so bad that he left again?”
“He found out he had a brother. A twin.” Braelynn replied. “His name was Abel. And one night, they went off with their father who got drunk and high. He lost control of their car that night, and Abel didn’t survive.”
“Jesus fucking Christ…” Katelyn said, letting out a heavy sigh and shaking her head. “Why did Abel go back to that place?”
Braelynn looked down and away. “Because he wanted to take everything away from the doctor who hurt James. Who accelerated James’ anger, keeping him the war raging in his mind at all times. Abel wanted to bring an end to it all.” She sighed. “I just want you to know I’m sorry. I would have never put your daughter in danger…”
Katelyn shook her head. “Any time she is around Abel, and it seems to be the same with James, Kelly…my daughter…could be in danger. I thought James was stable. I wanted things to work. But that is clearly not the case.” She looked down and away now. “I know what Abel is capable of. It doesn’t seem James can keep him under control and my daughter will not be around that.” She grabbed her purse. “And if you have any common sense, Braelynn…you and your baby will not be around that, either.” She turned and Braelynn watched her walk away.
The memory faded as she brought her vehicle to a stop. She looked down, rubbing her belly, telling herself she had to take care of her body, of her child. But then she looked to her left, at the Trinity Institute, and spoke, hoping her child heard her words, even if it didn’t understand. “I will protect you, just as your father would. That’s why I’m here. Your father is a good man, and he deserves to be here with you.” She sighed. “He will be with you.”
She looked down at her belly, running her hands over it once again, telling herself that she was doing the right thing, before climbing out of the car and heading towards the front entrance. She remembered the fear she had for this place in her nightmare the other night, but Braelynn told herself that now was not the time for fear. That she had to be strong.
For her family.
She had to.
She had no other choice.
– – – – – – – – – – –
McIntosh cursed to himself as he walked out of Abel’s room. He had received news there was someone causing a scene at the front desk. He walked steadily toward the front, where he found Ivy arguing with a blonde. As he drew closer, he realized who the blonde was.
Braelynn Evans. James’ wife.
His pace slowed at the discovery, as he wondered why she would have been at the facility, appearing to be in such distress. He took a few moments to gather his thoughts, before stepping in between her and Ivy. “What appears to be the situation here?” He asked, trying to appear as polite as possible.
Ivy was the first to respond. “She is here, asking to see her husband, stating she knows he is here, and I told her that we aren’t accepting patient visitors at this time.”
“I see.” He said before giving Braelynn his attention. “May I ask who your husband is?”
The woman glared at him, looking at him in complete disgust. He wanted to chuckle at the thought of James telling her all about him, but he forced it back. “You damn well who my husband is. He was here last year, and you called me in to speak with him, because you said he wasn’t making any progress. He wasn’t making any progress because you’re a fucking lunatic!” She shouted, causing various staff members to look at him as well, all appearing uncomfortable. He gave a reassuring smile, as Braelynn spoke. “I want to see my husband.”
He sighed. “I’m afraid that’s not possible at this time. As my assistant stated, we’re not allowing patient visitors right now.” Ivy whispered nothing in his ear before McIntosh continued. “And from what she is telling me, we don’t have your name on any visitor lists. Braelynn Evans, correct?”
“Don’t give me that shit.” She hissed. He admired her fire. He could see what James saw in her.
He sighed, knowing he needed to get her out of the facility. She seemed to be in a fragile state, not to mention pregnant. “You seem to be under a fair amount of stress, Mrs. Evans.” Toying with fragile minds was something McIntosh considered his specialty. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” She asked, the fire and vigor within her seemed to suddenly shrink.
McIntosh shrugged. “We have plenty of room here at Trinity if you feel you need to seek any sort mental health treatment. As you can see,” He continued, spreading his arms out like he was putting the entire facility on display. “This place is very welcoming. I take pride in that, because I’d never want anyone to feel intimidated. I want all my patients to feel at home.”
Ivy handed him a clipboard with several documents. He looked at Braelynn before extending the clipboard her way. “If you feel you need to commit to treatment, feel free to fill these forms out and we can get you set up right away.”
She looked down at the forms then at him. Her glare returned. “You’re fucking sick.”
He shook his head. “No ma’am. I heal the sick.” He went to speak, but she turned away and stomped out of the exit. He looked at Ivy. “My office. Now.”
Once in his office, he let out a groan and shook his head once more. Ivy entered. “What the hell was that?”
“That is James’ wife.” He exclaimed.
“You seem surprised.”
“I am.” He fired back.
“Why?”
He shrugged. “I figured she knew he was here. Based on what I saw, she had no fucking clue he was here. And I don’t know about you, but that is worrisome.”
She rolled her eyes, only further adding to his annoyance. “I tried to tell you. But you didn’t listen. There is something bigger going on here.”
“I know what you said.” He replied. “And I didn’t listen. You’re right about that, just as you’re correct that there is something bigger going on.”
“What are you talking about?” She asked, looking at him with confusion surfacing on her face.
He removed his glasses, letting out a deep breath. “The person who came here was not James. I found out this morning. I had my reservations, and I brought the truth to light. Abel is here.”
“And you seem excited about that.”
“I am.” He replaced his glasses, as he recalled the morning’s conversation with Abel. “I wanted Abel back in the grand scheme of things. James is just a pawn. He is expendable at this point.”
“So, what is your plan?” She asked, growing curious as she stepped closer to him. “Are you going to try and get rid of James as you helped me get rid of Amelia?”
He grinned. “Precisely, but I need Abel for so much more. I know James is stronger than most, which is why I have to continue breaking Abel down, to continue painting a picture of James as the bad guy, instead of that anger being directed toward me.”
“I’ve met the guy.” Ivy replied. “I’ve had a conversation with him about you, and I can’t help but ask…based on what he’s said…do you think that’s possible?” She asked, concern in her eyes. “I mean, honestly?”
He nodded. “I do. If you had been in the room with Abel this morning, you would believe the same thing.” He stepped closer. “I feel like I’ve already made a breakthrough with him. It may have been a small one, but you have to take each victory as it is.” He said, placing his hands on her arms. “The two of you will be something special. I have no doubt about that.”
“The two of us?” She asked. “Okay, seriously. What the hell are you talking about?”
He grinned once again. “As I’ve said before, you will find out soon enough. As for now.” He stated, as he began to walk by her. “I have to get back to work. His wife being here could throw a wrench into things.”
“What are we going to do about that?” She called after him.
He turned, as he stopped in the doorway. “Well, if she didn’t know he was here, that tells me there is someone else who does know. We need to figure who else knows, and why.”
“Something tells me that it was that detective.”
He scoffed. “Bram Theron….” He nodded. “Well, if that is the case then we need to speed this process even more.” He turned away and made his way down the hall, before he stopped outside Abel’s room, where Jeffrey stood guard. “How’s he been doing?”
Jeffrey looked into the room before locking eyes with him. “It took him awhile to calm down and regain his composure, but he’s finally settled. What do we need to do?”
“We need to continue breaking him down. Unsettle him.”
Jeffrey nodded. “Yes sir.” McIntosh then watched as his lead orderly stepped into the room, lifting a syringe. The room filled with Abel’s curses and violent thrashing before orderlies took control of him. The doctor continued to watch as Jeffrey did his duty. The fight in Abel began to die down as the medicine took hold, before bringing sweet sleep.
“You’re not going to get away this time.” McIntosh whispered, as he told himself that with each passing day, there would be little of James Evans left. There would only be Abel. That he would have what he wanted.
__________________________________
Elsewhere
“Good. Now follow me. We don’t have much time.” James repeated those words in his head as he followed his teenage self out of his grandparents’ house. Those words were followed by a question that raged in James’ thoughts. What the hell did he mean we didn’t have much time? He continued to follow his other’s lead, going through his grandparents’ backyard, going under the grapevine, before stepping through the blackberry patch his grandfather always took care of. James remembered how the old man kept everything immaculate. “Keep up.” He heard his younger self state, sensing the anger in the young man’s voice.
James knew it was accurate, because there weren’t many happy days for him as a teenager. “Where are we going? You’ve not really told me anything, and you want me to follow you.” James said, brushing crumbling branches and dried blackberry from his shoulders.
“Trying to get you out of here.”
“And what did you mean that we don’t have much time.”
The teenager, with his shaggy hair, flannel, blue jeans, and well-kept Chuck Taylor shoes, sighed and shook his head. “You aren’t very bright, are you?”
“And I say you’re not known as a warm soul, are you?” James asked, giving his younger self a smirk.
“It’s Abel.”
James came to a halt, and they locked eyes. “What’s going on with Abel?”
“Let’s just say that it was probably a bad idea for you to leave him by himself.”
He shook his wait. “No, wait. Tell me what you’re talking about.”
“We are wasting time, James. You need to get a grip and follow me.”
“I need to know what’s going on.”
His younger self rolled his eyes, something James remembered doing quite often as a teenager, as he was filled with more angst than what was considered normal. “You’ll find out soon enough. Now let’s go.” He turned away and continued walking.
They walked through another yard. James remembered it well. His grandparents’ neighbors, Larry and Judy. Their daughter, Tara, had been best friends with his mother when she was filled with innocence instead of whatever substance she could find to abuse. “I remember this place.”
“That’s fantastic.” His younger self stated, the sarcasm spread nice and thick over his words.
“My mom…well our mom…she used to bring me up here for Halloween. Larry and Judy.” He grinned. “I will always remember how they had the best candy every year. It was something I always looked forward to.” His grin faded. “I remember how disappointed I became when mom turned away from time with me so she could get high. I’d come by here when I’d visit my grandparents. Larry and Judy would always ask how Mom was…”
His younger self cut him off. “And you would always lie.” They locked eyes, before the teenager looked down and away, something James did quite often as well due to lack of confidence and what felt like a never-ending depression. “Do you think they actually bought that bullshit?”
James shrugged. “I don’t know.” He sighed. “I doubt it. I know that I didn’t believe it when I said whatever I said. I just tried to string words together to come up with some excuse as to why she never came around anymore.”
“And you always hated it.”
They hold one another’s gaze. “And that is why you are always angry.”
“I’m you. I’m an embodiment of all your teenage memories, so yeah of fucking course, I’m angry. Like you were then, I’m never at peace.”
James looked down, letting out a heavy sigh. “I’m sure. And I’m sorry.”
“You could do us all a favor and do as your grandfather said.”
“Tear this place down?”
“Yes.” James sighed once more, and went to speak, but his younger self cut him off yet again. “But we don’t have time to really talk about that now. We have to get moving. Our window of opportunity is closing.” He turned and took off, going through the yard. James followed only to see the teenager open the door to Larry and Judy’s house, walking right in like he owned the place. Sticking his head in the doorway, James looked around. The house dark and everything was still. He slowly crept inside, continuing to look around, telling himself that happiness once reigned supreme here. He recalled how he was able to be a part of it from time to time. “Are you coming or not?” He looked up and saw the teenager glaring at him, as he stood at the end of the kitchen, annoyance all over his face.
He nodded before walking through the kitchen, meeting his younger self at the top of the basement steps. “What are you doing?”
“You remember what’s down there?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
The teenager sighed. “That’s because your mind has always focused more on the negative than the positive. What’s down there is something positive, but you’ve allowed it to be buried in all the darkness of your mind.”
“Well, show me what’s down there.” James sighed, as they locked eyes once more. The teenager shook his head no, before motioning for him to go ahead. James sighed, and nodded, before slowly making his way downstairs, the steps creaking just as they did when he was a child. Once he reached the bottom, he looked around. There was nothing but darkness. “There’s nothing down here.” He shouted to the top, but when he looked, James saw no one. “What the hell do you want me to see?” He whispered as his eyes continued to scan the room.
As he did, memories began to flood his mind. Memories of his time in the basement, with Tara’s children, Kyle and Jonathan. How they created little adventures each day they played, and those adventures started in the basement.
“Why did we always start our games down here?” James asked out loud, as he began to move through the room, his hands out in front of him, helping him through the darkness. He moved slowly and steadily, until his hands touched something. It was cold and rough. His fingers traced it, and he knew it was a brick. He had hit a wall. He looked to his left, as the memories continued. Something was down here, and he knew it. He could now feel it.
He remembered asking Jonathan who was older than he and Kyle. “What happens down here?”
Jonathan grinned. “Once we leave this room, we will enter a whole new dimension. A whole new world.” He recalled how excited he and Kyle became after listening to Jonathan’s stories.
And that was when James found it. His hand touched the knob. It was a door that led outside. He hesitated for a moment but told himself that if Abel was on the other side, then he had to go after him. He took a few deep breaths, as he hand twisted the knob. The door opened, and what James saw, he couldn’t believe. He didn’t want to believe it, but something told him he had no choice. He let out another deep breath, before slowly stepping through the door, pulling it closed behind him, leaving part of his past behind.
__________________________________
Promo
Abel sat in the studio provided by SCW, looking down at his hands as he rubbed them together. His mind was filled with thoughts of the last confrontation he had with Bree Lancaster. How she stated she put him down and he stayed down. He scoffed at that notion. How she was going to take the SCW World Championship. He exhaled before looking up at the camera, beginning to speak. “The last time you saw me in the ring, I faced the Executioner. The people wanted to see it, almost as bad as I wanted it to just happen. I told Xander that I would end his suffering, but I was unable to do so. Was it because I didn’t have it in me to take that kill shot? No.”
“To be honest, I saw something different within Xander’s eyes that night. He didn’t seem to be suffering. He didn’t seem to be dead inside. Oh no, he seemed very much alive. Like he actually wanted to fight. Like he actually wanted to be the best he could possibly be. In a way, I believe seeing his name next to mine lit a fire under his ass.”
“He brought it when we faced off in that ring. He always had the size and strength advantage. I knew that going in. But once again, as I have shown time and time again throughout my career, that I will not stop. Oh no, I will fight with everything I have, with every fiber of my being, and that is why I got Xander’s best, and that’s why he got my best in return, only for Bree Lancaster to show up, and clock me in the back of the head with the ten pounds of gold she carries. She ruined the match and tried her best to take me out.”
“She’s used this tactic against the likes of Kimberly Williams and Rachel Tatum Lee. It may have worked with them, throwing Kimberly off her game before losing her grip on the United States Championship, and let’s not forget the fact that Bree may have ended Rachel’s career. I knew Bree would strike. I knew she wanted to injure me, just as she had done them, but she fucked up. She didn’t get the job done. It may have hurt, but I showed up to work like I always do.” Abel growled as he glared into the camera.
“I don’t know about you, but I feel like Bree should remember what happened last time she attacked her previously scheduled opponent. She lost cleanly, losing her title in the process. I guess there will always be those who are doomed to repeat the same mistakes over and over throughout their lives. Bree is a prime example.” He paused as Abel reached down, grabbing the SCW World Championship from his gym bag. He took a few moments to look at it. He then placed it over his shoulder, returning his attention to the camera as he began to speak once again. “And she is coming after this.” He stated, as he pressed a finger to the center of the title plate.
The screen filled with video reels of Bree and James competing in various matches, and coming out on top, before showing muted clips of their confrontations when their paths had crossed. The screen then shifted back to Abel, as slow and eerie music began to filter through as he continued to speak. “Congratulations Bree. You finally get your shot at the richest prize in this industry. The only problem is that it rests on my shoulder, in my hands. Hands that have done some terrible things to those you’ve hated, just as they have done terrible things to those you’ve loved and cared about. Hands that will show you absolutely no fucking mercy this Sunday. Hands that are controlled by the thoughts in my head, which contains my brain that sends out messages to the body, and right now it is telling me that we’ve already got you figured out.” Abel grinned as he pointed to the side of his head, before he continued.
“I already know what you’re going to talk about. You’re going to talk about how you should have already been World Champion before. You will talk about how won a tournament a few years back, overcoming some of the best this company has had to offer, and how you ended up having to share your title shot with Syren, a thorn in all our sides. You will then do something you’re really good at, which is bitch for twenty minutes about how it should have been you and only you that night, and how just as I apparently did in the Thunderdome according to you, Syren got lucky.” He gave an eye roll and a shake of the head, trying to ignore how annoyed Bree made him. It started during the wars between Redemption and Bree with Raynes. This time, it was far worse.
“And let’s not forget how you weren’t pinned or submitted for a very long time. Yes, that is very commendable Bree. You don’t see that very often in this sport, but everything commendable you may throw my way gets tarnished every single time you open your mouth. You just never shut up. Oh no, you never know when to shut the fuck up, and I have to fight the urge to sink my teeth into your tongue before ripping it out. I won’t do that however, because let’s face it. You deserve far worse. And that is exactly what’s going to happen, Bree. This will be unlike any match you’ve ever been in. When you are left lying in a pool of your own blood, we can call Dior, or even TMZ, to take photographs of what could only be depicted as the closest to a slaughter the SCW will allow one to get.” Abel shrugged. “I guess that places you in the same category as Syren and I. You know, one of the lucky ones. I mean, let’s face it. I’m bigger and stronger than you. If I manage to get a hold on you, I can just use my weight applying far more pressure, and then something snaps. What then? You’re done.” He gave a little cackle.
“And if, or when, I put you out on the shelf, you can do something you’ve done several times before. You can scream conspiracy. How you’re being held back by Sasha, and the powers that be. Oh, wait. That’s Sienna. I’m sorry. It’s hard to tell you two apart. But you can talk about how Sasha is insane because she booked you, one of the company’s top stars, against a mad man, a true fucking maniac.” He grinned for a few moments, as images of his war against Sienna and Cannon in the Thunderdome flowed through his mind. Those images where then replaced on him slamming Bree face first into the ring mat, over and over, as blood and teeth began to shoot across the canvas. He exhaled deeply, returning his attention to the camera once again. “But just remember, if you go that route, which is a route you normally take when you get your ass handed to you…just remember that you…YOU…wanted this! Not me. You!” He stated, pointing toward the camera, with a glare on his face.
He scoffed. “You think that I made the biggest mistake of my life when I knocked you on your ass. You claimed it was like a coward. There’s nothing fair in war, Bree. I feel I’ve made that abundantly clear. I guess you’ve had your head so far up your ass, or is it Sienna’s, for my words to really register on your radar. And yes, I was backed into a corner. Its funny how you can stand there and pass judgment when you were one of those stacked against me, placing me in that corner. Like what the fuck did you think was going to happen? Did you think I was going to play nice with all you motherfuckers? No! I made it known I wanted to break Chris’ jaw, that I wanted to dismantle him. That I wanted to murder Sienna’s career. I went in with criminal intent, Bree. It was a fight for survival, and I didn’t give a damn who I hurt, or how I did it, as long as I kept the SCW World Championship from the lot of you.” Clips of the abuse he endured, as well as dished out, inside the Thunderdome were shown, before Abel was shown as the last man standing, the SCW World Championship high above his head.
“The plan is still the same, Bree. Your career is in danger, babe. And you can brush off my words, call my threats puny and all that shit, but look me in the eyes, and tell me you don’t think I can really hurt you. You can say I used those tactics against Amy a few years ago, but we can be honest with each other. You’re nowhere near the level of person or performer as your mentor. She’s stronger than you. Even when I had gone after her, she fought me straight up, face to face. You can’t say the same about a lot of the people who’ve opposed you. Those people didn’t get a chance to truly recover when you attacked them from behind. I survived. Look into these eyes Bree. Do you know what you’ll see? You’ll see a man who has survived physical and mental abuse by the hands of those who were supposed to love him and take care of him. You see that in these eyes, and I survived that Bree. So, really…what are you going to do?
“What the fuck are you going to do against a man who has lived in, and survived, Hell?” Abel paused, as if he were letting his words resonate.
“I know you like to think that you have me figured out as well, Bree but you don’t. We both know you’ve never faced someone like me. Sure, our paths have crossed before, but never one on one. This may be the last time as well. I told you I know who I’m facing. I’m facing someone, who after all this time, has been unable to win the big one. You see this as your time. I get it. It’s nice to live in Candyland, where anything is possible, but you’re in your own way, Bree. What am I talking about, right?” He took a few moments to think about James’ history with the Beauty Factory. It started out as merely a blimp on SCW television, while James wore the label of Tag Team Champion, but it grew to be much more when Abel was in the driver’s seat, going right after Chris Cannon in the build up to Apocalypse of last year.
He exhaled, as he took another look at the World Championship. He then looked back at the camera, his mind centering on his utter hatred and disgust for Bree, as he began to speak yet again. “You’re going to talk about how I’ve compared you with Sienna quite often, and how I’m wrong about my assumptions, and how I don’t have a clue what the relationship is like between you two. You’re both bitches, Bree but Sienna is far worse. Sienna was willing to sacrifice her own husband’s health to get the SCW World Championship back. And you’re right. You should have been World Champion by now, but what happened? You had your one shot and lost. How often has Sienna been involved in the World title picture? Where were you? Oh, that’s right! You were playing second fiddle to Sienna, putting your hopes and dreams on hold, because she was too busy being pissed off to change her fucking tampon.”
“And don’t get me wrong. Competing for the SCW United States Championship isn’t bad. Defending that title is a fucking honor, but you’ve not had honor for the championship you carry. You’ve held it because you’re too much of a chicken shit to stand up for yourself, to stand up against Sienna. Even after all this time, a year has passed since our last match against one another, where I told you that you didn’t know who you are. That you allowed yourself to become nothing more than Sienna Lite. After all that time, you’re still in the same spot you were then, and you’ve done absolutely nothing to break through, to break away, or break the mold.” He could just picture Bree standing behind Sienna as Sienna wore the World title. He could see Bree just staring at the belt, while fighting to keep her eyes off the prize she wanted but could never obtain.
“You’ve allowed yourself to become content with being in Sienna’s shadow. You can claim otherwise, but people without wool over their eyes can see it clear as fucking day. You want to take this? Then you need to step up, like I have. I used to call conspiracy, but then I grew the fuck up and learned to make the most of my opportunities. I didn’t grow content. I pushed myself to get better, to evolve, and that is why I am the SCW World Champion. I scratched and clawed my way from the bottom of the last rung on the ladder, evolving every goddamn step of the way to get this, and if you think I’m just going to hand it over to you, then you have another thing coming.”
He shook his head. “You see you…Sienna…Chris…you all think you own the SCW, but that is far from the truth. You’re being forced to see it because people have grown far too tired of your bullshit. People like Ace, Asher Hayes, Selena…we are ready to drive you out of this place. They can fight their battles. My battle is far more personal. And when we step foot into New Orleans, your hometown, that is going to brought even further into the light when I fight with all I have to fucking destroy you.” Abel stated, as he felt emotions filled with anger and passion beginning to truly flow through him.
“Because when I look at you and Sienna, I see the two biggest pieces of insecure shit to ever grace a wrestling company. When things aren’t about either of you, you lose your fucking minds. Look at Sienna as soon as I won this title. She hounded me, bitching and complaining, using homophobic slurs against me because she couldn’t fucking handle it. When Rachel knocked you down a peg or two, you ended her career when she wasn’t looking. When Kimberly beat you for the title, you attacked her, cutting her celebration short, becoming the one thing you always claimed me to be. A fucking psycho. Which we should have all seen coming, because remaining content is psychotic.”
“And speaking of psychos, just imagine what will be going on in Sienna’s mind if you were to win this title. She would plot your fucking death as soon as Cold Blooded goes off air.” He sighed.“I know none of that registers in your mind. You only see the World Championship. You just want to hold this title. It’s not about being Champion for you. You just like the extra accessories this business can provide you. You see the U.S. title as a prop. I guarantee if you manage to beat me, which you can do because when your head isn’t up any ass, you can get it done in the ring. But if you beat me, I guarantee you will drop the U.S. title. You’ve claimed it’s your property, but you’ve always had your eye on this. You believe it will help you evolve, but it won’t because you simply cannot handle what it means to be Champion.” Abel paused for a moment, thinking about how long James had fought to get back to the title, and how hard he himself had fought to keep it after James left him to take care of things on the wrestling side. They did see eye to eye about not letting people Sienna or Bree become Champion. Abel knew he couldn’t lose sight of that, or take his eye off the prize that currently rested on his shoulder.
“I’ve refused to be content as I’ve said. I have proven that more and more with each passing day that I’ve been World Champion. My hunger is still there. The fight is still there. I will continue to push myself in order to survive this war, because you pieces of shit simply cannot win. I know that in order to survive, you have to rely on every aspect of your being. You rely on the Beauty Factory or Scott to help you. But you need to realize this, and you have less time than you truly know to get it through your thick skull, but this Sunday…at Cold Blooded, there will not be anyone around to save you when I pull the trigger, taking the shot to kill the Breemerican dream. And it won’t be some magic bullet.”
“Oh no. It will be with a middle finger to the establishment, because in order to save something you love and respect as I do this company, as I do this sport, then a revolution needs to occur. And we’re already in the middle of one, Bree. And I refuse to let that die. You and your reign on the other hand…I can’t make any promises you won’t be carted out on an ambulance in bits and pieces, because your ego led you to your inevitable slaughter. Like Katrina with New Orleans, I am going to take you down. The only difference is that I refuse to let you recover and flourish. But don’t worry, this Championship will remain where it is, while the United States title will have the chance to recover and flourish from the ways you’ve tarnished it. By spilling your blood, it will be given its freedom. Just like the rest of SCW. Because it has to be done. Because its the right fucking thing.” Abel fumed as the camera zoomed in closer to him, before he shoved it out of the way. The camera filmed him walking away, looking like a man on a mission, before ultimately fading to black, as the music slowly died down.
J A M E S E V A N S 