There's nothing quite like losing your son inside your own abode to really reinforce and remind you that you're a truly terrific father. Oh and by terrific, I mean terrible. Yeah, nothing throws that kind of realization at you like not being able to find your child, in the place where you live. That's the mindset that currently had me captivated. Arkin went missing in the apartment.


My apartment.


Now, I know what most would wonder, how does a fully, capable and responsible adult male, lose a baby in his flat? Well that is a very good question. One that I don't currently have a proper answer for at this specific moment in time. I mean, in my defense I could say that Arkin just went through his first growth spurt but he only advanced in age, from infant to a rambunctious, one year old child. He could barely stand for too long without toppling over. Most of the time he crawled about on the floor. Which I suppose is where this tragedy was destined to befall me. My assumption that, that would somehow impede Arkin in anyway, whatsoever.



While he should have been placed inside a play pen of some sort. Safe and secure. I let him chill on the living room carpet with a bunch of his toys. Free to do his own thing, outside the prison-esque confines of that child enclosure. Maybe that's a tad over dramatic but you should see the way he looks at me when I put him in that thing. If he had a tiny tin cup, he'd start raking it across the wooden bars like he was in jail. Somehow he'd pull out a small harmonica and play a soulful song to really emphasize the moment too. Alright. That's a bit of an exaggeration but it still didn't stop me from feeling like a monster. A betrayer and an asshole that was depriving Arkin of his basic right to freedom. So I let him roam around. The place was baby proofed. There wasn't any danger he could get himself into. Besides I was right there and I'm a grown ass man, with a sound mind and keen observation skills. There's no way anything bad would ever happen. Not with me right there.


That was the theory anyway.


Safe in that knowledge, I put Arkin down in the living room, walked away for not even two to three minutes tops, to fetch a cup of coffee and came back to find him gone. Nowhere to be found. Not in any conceivable direction that a small child could potentially crawl off to in the amount of time that passed. It didn't make any sense, I couldn't have been more baffled and at the same time, there was never a moment when I was filled with that much dread, in all my life. Most assuredly, any parent that can't locate their child goes through this but when it happens in your home, there's that added bonus of fear mixed with failure that hits you. Makes you feel like your world is crumbling apart as you question your own sanity.


Then there came the awareness of what would happen when I spoke with Abigail and told her that our son went missing inside the apartment. That deep understanding that Abigail would most definitely kill me, without a second thought when she found out that I lost our son. She puts up with a lot of my shenanigans and nonsense but that would be a line that there's no crossing back over from. Abbie would without a doubt, murder my neglectful ass.


Sorry dear, I set Arkin down, went off for a few minutes and came back to find that the little guy, well he just vanished. Isn't that the dickens? Oh wow. It seems that my lungs are now filling with water at an awfully alarming rate. So this is what drowning feels like on dry land, huh? Welp. I had a good run. If only there was some way I could have avoided this tragedy. Hindsight is only twenty-twenty though. Glub. Glub. Gurgle. Gurgle. R.I.P The worst father ever.


Yeah, that's pretty close to how things would go, except I'd also be simultaneously, plummeting towards the street, after she blasted me from the balcony. Don't get me wrong, I am not saying that I'd deserve anything less but damn, that does not take the sting or alarm away. I must admit I was letting my mind run away with itself. A common aspect that tends to occur rather frequently. On both the positive and negative spectrum of things. There was no way that Arkin could disappear without a trace, inside my apartment. I merely had to find him and then, everything would be all good. Abigail was spending time with her mother, getting breakfast, shopping and generally catching up. I had time to locate Arkin before Abigail returned. Everything was going to be okay.


Potentially.


However, after tearing up my whole apartment and literally searching everywhere, I was starting to lose hope. This was crazy. Where could a small child crawl off to and vanish. It didn't make sense, at all. Quite frankly, it was beginning to bring on a fucking panic attack. Something I could not afford occurring right now. Nor could I thwart with a few hits from the bowl. My "go-to" self prescribed cure for that sort of thing, whenever it would happen. An affliction that hasn't overtaken me in awhile, it can be debilitating and world shattering. One of the wonderful gifts bestowed upon me from my childhood and award winning, first class upbringing. Poor anxiety control. Normally I have a clear head for crises but in times like this, when I feel a total loss of control, it fucks with me to a degree that I can't handle. Thank god for pot, right? Oh wait, I can't smoke. Never-fucking-mind.


It was time to call in back up before I totally lost my shit.


Luckily, Ezra answered after only a couple of rings and showed up within fifteen seconds. Fast travel via power lines and utility poles was Ezra's preferred means of getting around the city. Perks of being a guy that could transform his body into pure electricity. He arrived at the precise instant that I hit the - end, button on my phone.





"So how long has Arkin been missing exactly."


"I don't know, an hour maybe?"


I say this with a shrug as I turn towards Ezra, glad that his concern mirrored mine.


"An hour? Arkin has been M.I.A in your place for an hour? How does that even happen?"


"I don't know. I sat him down on the carpet in the living room. Went and got coffee. Came back and he was gone. I've looked everywhere Ezra and I can't seem to find him anywhere."


Ezra did a slow spin in a complete circle, while he allowed his eyes to pan every inch of my apartment that was visible to him from where he currently stood. Gradually looking over the utter disarray that came from my frantic search.


"Clearly."


A thoughtful expression on his face, he appeared to contemplate the situation thoroughly.


"Alright. No worries. I got this."


With a sympathetic smile and a tilt of his head in my direction, he transitioned from man to electricity. Zapping off to the nearest electrical outlet, he disappeared. I could hear the sizzle of electricity as a sharp, swift current passed from one power source to another. Faster than one could perceive him actually traveling. Only the lights and various other devices surging and fluctuating with the increase in potency of energy, while Ezra made his rounds through the apartment served as proof to what was happening.


The sight was truly something to behold. Like a scene from a movie about a poltergeist fucking with the power. Except this wasn't an evil spirit, this was my brother bouncing through wires and circuits, searching for my son. His perception, sight and total awareness when he moved around like this was amplified to levels that were off the charts. Plus he could progress through the entire apartment at a rate of speed like no other. Being that he was nothing more than an energy current zipping about. This is what made his search efforts vastly increased and raised my spirits in the prospects of finding Arkin.


After what felt like an eternity but in reality was only a few minutes, a loud crackle permeated the air. Much like lightening splitting the sky, Ezra shot from a nearby electrical outlet and rematerialized, directly in front of me. The look in his eyes said it all.


"He's not inside the apartment, is he?"


"I'm afraid not, brother."


Cue full blown panic attack.

---

"Here we are Hanari Carnes, set to do battle on Saturday Night Savage. The prize of the TV Title on the line. Just a little while ago you faced my brother, Ezra. Although, I believe he was confused on who he was supposed to actually face, when that went down. Otherwise, I'm sure he would have directed his comments to you and not a man named Hugh Callidus. Weird how you didn't shoot a promo until after Ezra did and the original card for that specific show (January 26th) is nowhere to be found. I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation behind all that though. Technical difficulties. Ezra was more than likely mistaken. I'm guessing he had a lot on his mind, with work and whatnot. He tends to get a little scatterbrained when that happens. Without a doubt he's brilliant but his focus tends to become askew, when he's overworked or stressed. Happens to some of the best of us. The result of this threw him off his game, he wasn't prepared and that proved to be his downfall."


"Anyway, I want to let you know, that when we meet in the ring, Hanari Carnes... that won't be an issue for me. No. You will receive my full focus and all of my attention. You also won't be fighting someone with limited experience in the ring this time. You'll be taking on the former X-Treme Champion. Number five on the list of the longest reigning X-Treme Champions, after picking up the title in my second match with the company. I'm determined and a deadly force to be reckoned with and while I might not always take the win, when someone faces me in that squared circle, they damn well don't forget it. You won't prove to be different. That isn't a slam on you either. It's an assessment of the facts."


"You claim to be hard working and driven, fought for everything that you got. Well, we have that in common, everything I achieved was a battle. I rose up the ranks and climbed the corporate ladder, straight to the top, where I belong. What I gained in the process, I earned all on my own. There wasn't a helping hand or a silver spoon. Just me and my ambition for greatness. Now, it's only the best of the best for me, and that's not going to change anytime soon. I'm not first class, I'm elite class and I deserve nothing less. Fitting that when I finally joined this fine wrestling federation, my career would mirror my worth. Each match would prove to be an epic battle and nary a fan would find a sense of disappointment when they watched on. Awe, amazement and breathless astonishment, yes. Never disappointment though."


"That is the guarantee of satisfaction, each and every fan knows that they'll receive when they watch me fight. It's simply a given. When you see the name - Donovan Blackwater, advertised to partake in a match, you know you'll walk away pleased. Not only do I have highly impressive wrestling skills, coupled with abilities that astound the masses, quite like no one else but I look damn good while I'm using them. I'm an absolute marvel. A masterpiece. A straight up living work of art, so perfect you'd swear I was chiseled from stone - adonis. People either wish they were me or they just want me. It's what fills the seats. Anyone can be a talented wrestler with enough training but when you're drop dead gorgeous on top of that, it just sells those tickets all the quicker."


"It's also where our common ground crumbles. Yet I don't need to tell you that, you have mirrors to point that out for you. Along with the masses of repulsed onlookers. It's okay. We can't all be attractive. Deep down, I'm sure you have something to offer a nice blind woman... or man, whichever you're physically drawn to. Quick suggestion though, you might wanna go for someone that also has both of their hands amputated, so there's no way they can feel your face and get even a remote bit of insight into what you might look like. All those bumps, crevices and craters, that I'm sure you'll explain away by saying that you obtained them in various brawls or fights but were really there since birth cause you were obviously, born looking like the elephant man. You don't want anyone to come in contact with those in a way that will give away your Quasimodo status. So I'd suggest that you simply eliminate the possibility altogether. Just some friendly advice."

Donovan Blackwater
Former 1x...