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Sebastian Duke · **03-01-2015, 09:27 PM**

Saturday, February 28, 2015 | 8:21 AM Local Time | Camp Finis | Near Stuttgart, Germany

Asmodeus, along with Matthew and most of the Illuminatus hierarchy as well as the majority of the military left Stuttgart yesterday afternoon. The King, the Prince, and the King's right hand, Jacob, stayed behind with a small portion of military for security purposes stayed behind. The King and company wanted to stay behind to oversee the completion of the first camp. The crews worked so quickly on this camp that it was ready for, inhabitants, for lack of a better term, in a little more than a day.

In the course of events, the work goes on. The nation must be run responsibly and next moves in the war effort planned precisely. That's why Matthew and Asmodeus have gone back to the Chancellery, to handle such matters and oversee the military.

Sebastian Duke sits on the edge of a cot in a room built below the wardens office. A few feet from him lies Thaddeus in his cot, and a few feet beyond him, Jacob performs some pushups, getting his blood flowing in the chilly German winter morning. The King kicks the bed of his son, arousing him from his slumber.

”Time to get up, kid,” he says with a slight smile. ”it's your big day.”

Thaddeus rubs the sleep from his eyes and lays staring at the beams of the ceiling. ”What the hell are you talking about?” he asks, slightly annoyed at being woke up before he was ready.

”This is all your baby. The General said that the big event should be ready this morning.”

”Oh yes. That.”

A knock is heard on the far side of the closed door to the Illuminatus' quarters. Jacob stands up and opens the door, waving for the General to enter.

”I hope that I'm not too early in disturbing you,” says the General as he enters. ”The Altar of Leviticus is complete and ready for testing,” the General concludes.

”You're fine, General,” says the King before being interrupted by his son.

”Father, may I perform the tests?” he asks as he places his crown upon his head.

Sebastian stands up and eyeballs his son. He's proud of the initiative he shows. He's proud of the leader young Thaddeus is becoming.

”The Altar of Leviticus. Good choice in name,” he says to his son. ”The Burnt Offering?”

”Indeed,” replies the Prince.

”That's the Altar of Fire, not the Altar of...”

Thaddeus interrupts, ”I know exactly what it is. If you call it the Altar of Fire, you're begging for trouble. Word of what we're doing would get out and there would be a revolt.

“That's not something we can afford.

“Calling it the Altar of Leviticus, gives us plausible deny ability. It's all strategic. Word is already spreading of these camps existence. We'll be questioned at some point. So, we'll cut them off at the knees and beat them to the punch.

“Photographs will be released to the television and radio stations tomorrow of exactly what we're doing here.”

”No. No god damn way. If you show pictures of a fucking furnace you're going to insight rage and upheaval for certain.”

”With all do respect, father,” says the young Prince with a great deal of agitation evident in his tone of voice. ”You've not yet seen the Altar of Leviticus. You have no idea what you're talking about.”

Sebastian slams himself down on the edge of his cot and looks up at his son. ”Fine. I'll trust you. It's your baby. You've put all this together. Let's see what you got, kid.”

Prince Thaddeus approaches the General. ”Assemble the prisoners in fifteen minutes,” he commands of the warden. The General only nods and excuses himself.

Sebastian Duke stands up and slaps Thaddeus in the back of his head, sending his crown flying across the room and nearly knocking the boy down. Thaddeus turns to his father with a wounded look on his face. ”Don't you ever interrupt me. Especially in the presence of a subordinate.

“I am the King. You are not. Don't forget that.”

The King makes his exit as Jacob hands Thaddeus back his crown.

”What the hell did he do that for?” he asks of Jacob.

”Interrupting your leader, father or not, is one of the highest forms of disrespect you can show. He's always taken exception to being interrupted,” he says as he fixes the boys mussed up hair a bit. ”Trust me, my Prince, you got off easy.”

Fifteen Minutes Later

The Camp Warden did as he was instructed and assembled the twenty or so prisoners out on the grounds of Camp Finis. The General, along with Jacob and King Sebastian stand off to the side as Prince Thaddeus emerges from the warden offices. He's dressed in his best royal wear, the purple and gold his father makes fun of, and of course, his crown.

He paces the crowd of prisoner with his hands clasped behind his back. ”I want you to all to know that I regret what happened here yesterday afternoon. You and the Illuminatus are obviously on opposite ends of the spectrum, but I assure you, you are here for your protection.

“If things get bad out there, it could spill into your nation. As such, we find it most important to the war effort to keep all of you safe from harm. That's why you're here. Not to perish in some great big gas chamber like past German regimes might have done. But to be protected. Kept safe. Remain secure.”

He pauses his speech and stops pacing. He looks out at all the faces staring back at him, then continues, ”Today, one of you will be chosen to take part in an experiment. I will not lie, it is a very dangerous experiment that could very well end in certain death.

“I ask that someone steps forward to volunteer. Otherwise, I will choose one of you.”

Prince Thaddeus starts his pacing once again. Before long, a young lady steps forward.

”You there! What is your name?” he asks of her.

”Ingrid,” she answers.

”How old are you, Ingrid?”

”Fifteen.”

Thaddeus turns toward the other prisoners. “You men should all be ashamed of yourselves. Your bravery is outmatched by a fifteen year old girl.”[/yellow] Thaddeus turns to a couple of guards, ”Escort Ingrid to the Altar of Leviticus,” he commands.

Within moments the guards, the warden, Thaddeus and Ingrid, and Sebastian and Jacob all reach the heavy steel doors of the Altar of Leviticus. The doors open and Thaddeus leads everyone inside. ”I might suggest you all hang out back here. Away from the altar.”

The men all do as Thaddeus suggests and takes a seat in the last pew. The Altar of Leviticus is an elaborate church decorated in Catholic Gothic styles. Just upon the altar stands a large crucifix, minus Jesus.

Thaddeus walks the long aisle with Ingrid at his side. ”Do you know why you're here?” he asks the young girl.

”To take part in your experiment, I presume.”

”Forgive me my dear, I meant why you're here at Camp Finis.”

”You said that...”

”Forget what I said out there,” he interrupts as the near the altar. ”Please, Ingrid, sit with me.” Thaddeus and the very hesitant Ingrid take a seat on the steps leading to the altar. ”Would you ever denounce your church?”

”No, I don't think I ever would.”

”What if you found out every thing they teach you is a lie, would you denounce them then?”

”Never.”

”So you'd follow a doctrine of lies before you'd consider leaving the church? Explain that to me because I'm having trouble understanding that logic, Ingrid.”

”Even if it was all a lie, the Church does more good than harm. I choose to believe that the best of human nature comes out of people when they stand in a place like this. Surrounded by God.”

”Look at that cross. What's missing?”

She turns to look at the cross and what is missing is obvious at first glance, ”Jesus.”

”WRONG!” he yells out. ”No, nothing is missing. What you have been lead to believe is truth and what really is the truth are different. Jesus Christ was no divine being. He was a mortal man, just like me. He did not die on the cross for your sins, he died on the cross for his sins.

“He was a liar and a thief. Mostly though, he was a delusional man suffering from psychosis.”

”No. With all due respect, you're wrong.”

Thaddeus says nothing. He elects only to smile at the poor girl.

”So what of this experiment you want to conduct?”

”We've already concluded it,” says the Prince as he stands up.

”I don't understand.”

”The experiment was to see if you'd denounce your church if you found out that everything its founded upon was a lie. Of course, I don't have the proof to show you its a lie, but we were speaking in hypothetical terms anyhow.

“Hypothetically speaking, you're an even bigger moron than my fathers elderly opponent this week.

“And that says a lot.

“For your failure, you'll get to spend time as your false savior did. Stuck to a fucking cross.

“Would you like to do it yourself, or would you like me to do it for you?”

Ingrid starts to tear up and shake a bit. She slowly gets to her feet and approaches the cross. She climbs up onto the wooden step built into the bottom of the cross and shackles her one hand. Thaddeus steps up and starts to shackle her other hand when she rips her arm away and slaps him in the face and kicks him in the chest. He charges at her and slams her head against the back of the cross. ”I should take my blade and cut open your gut! I'd love to watch your intestines spill out onto the floor!”

”Thaddeus,” says the King, attempting to calm his son without saying another word.

Thaddeus turns his head slightly toward his fathers voice, then shackles Ingrid's other hand, then her legs. He steps back and pulls out a device that looks like an iPhone. ”Of course, why would I do that when I can just give you a baptism by fire?” he asks as he presses a button on the phone. It starts small, at the base of the cross a fire glows. It then grows and ignites the bottom of the cross. Slowly it reaches Ingrid and she starts to cry some more. Soon the entire cross is burning but in low flames. Ingrid's screams would be heard for miles if the fake church wasn't sound proof.

She screams out for several minutes as Thaddeus looks on smiling. It's a putrid smell of burned flesh and hair and finally Ingrid succumbs to the flames. Thaddeus waits several minutes after her head falls limp to extinguish the flames.

”It works fine,” he says as he hands the remote device to the warden.

”We'll have the gas valves looked at. That's obviously a malfunction,” says the General.

”I assure you, General, the gas valves are fine.”

”But the flames, sir, they were so low.”

”I know, General,” he says with a look that tells the General to back off. ”I kept the flames low on purpose.”

”Why would you do that?” asks Jacob with a disgusted look on his face.

”Because she struck my face, Jacob! Because she kicked me! Because she disrespected me!

“And most of all, I just wanted the cunt to suffer.”

Hello Pest, how are you?

Wait... that's something Doc would say.

Actually, its somehow also something Pest would say.

Has it ever been pointed out that Pest tries hard to emulate Doc D'Ville? Of course, if you're going to emulate someone as good as D'Ville is, it's best to not completely fucking suck at it. Pest, in all reality, is like a carbon copy of D'Ville in everything he tries to say. Emphasis on tries. If you've ever used carbon paper then you know what I'm saying here. You have the original on top, and below it, a sheet of carbon, and below that, the duplicate. The problem with carbon copies is they're never quite as good as the original. Sure, when you look at the carbon copy some things are legible and make sense, while numerous other things just don't quite add up and don't make a damn bit of sense.

That's Pest.

The only thing missing, at least on the surface, is you referring to me as Mister Duke. That, and of course any form of sensibility whatsoever.

Bitch, I'm going to warn you one time and one time only. Don't you ever compare yourself to me. You'll never be as good as me and you'll never be anything like me. Not in this lifetime. Not in any lifetime. Do you know why I don't look back on what I did in Old Saybrook with pride? Those families did nothing more to me than simply exist. I took from those families what was taken from me and I'm not proud of that.

That's reason number one.

The other reason is because it was a distraction. A distraction that deterred me from my ultimate goal and nothing is more important than destroying the Church and I'm doing that now, one by fucking, one. The Catholic Church persecuted my people in order to hide the truth of Catholicism and Christ in general.

As they say, paybacks are a bitch. And so is Pest.

You're right about one thing Pest, I am the fight of your life. You're not even close to the fight of mine. It's a fight you will fight, that much I'm sure of. But, it's a fight you won't win. Why? Because you're not in my league. I'm the fucking gold standard. I'm one of, if not the most highly decorated XWF star in history and it wasn't an accident. It wasn't a fluke. I went away for several months because I was bored out of my mind. I was bored of the same ole same ole. The same faces going for the same titles and the same adversaries week after god damn week. It was mind numbing.

I came back.

I came back because I missed the hunt for gold. I missed making others tremble in fear at the thought of standing face to face with the King of Darkness. I returned just over a month ago and no one showed me a damn bit of respect that I earned. Does that piss me off?

Not in the slightest.

Simply because it means I'll beat the respect into them.

Tri Bute?

Check.

Eli James?

Check.

Hysteria?

Check.

Goat Face Killa?

Check.

Justin Sane?

Check.

All of them have tried and none of them succeeded. The answer as to why they all failed and I didn't is easy to see. They underestimate me, and look down on me because I've been around so long. Because I've had success that they could only dream of. Because in the grand scheme of things, they thought I was a washed up veteran, only to find out that I'm back and I'm bigger and better than I ever was.

Envy truly is an ugly on anyone.

I'm getting off topic.

In Pest's feeble little mind, my brother bribes Eli James so that means I will too. I'm not sure if you noticed this, Pest, but Theo Pryce and I have different skill sets. Different means to accomplish the same tasks. I don't know that Theo paid Eli anything. But if he did, I assume its because it suited him at that moment.

I'd never pay anyone to not show up, Pest. I simply don't need to. There isn't anyone in this company that I can't beat.

I'm a lot of things, Pest. But I've never been a rapist. You suggesting such a thing is nothing more than you trying to cast me in your light. See, its probably the second most disgusting thing anyone could do, right after touching kids. It's something I despise. Pest, I've never needed to force myself on a woman, key word there, WOMAN, to get pleasure. Let's take a field trip, Pest, to a prison. You'd be perceived as the lowest of the low and as such, would not make it a week.

Even the worst of criminals look down upon people like you.

Furthermore, my father was not in the war. At the time, he was a Catholic Priest and just discovering the truth about that Church. My son would not 'play' with your... boy... My son would sooner rip the throat from your neck and enjoy watching you choke on your own blood. Then he'd likely be disappointed that he'd not be able to do it a second time.

I watched this Pest promo, and I have to tell you all, its at this point, after he talks of my family and his, that it feels like I'm watching a repeat of the first. Pest, I don't do repeats. Azrael this, Azrael that. Why don't you find Azrael wherever the hell he is and literally suck his dick since you've done nothing but figuratively suck it so far this week.

Furthermore, not only have I never shied away from my wins, I've also never hid from my losses. Just more lies spewed from the disgusting mouth of Pest.

If you've gone into my past to find things to talk about, you'd realize I've never refused a challenge placed upon me. Yet, you want to make it out like I fear a man that is no longer here. Christ Pest, come up with something entertaining and original. While you're at it, find something even remotely truthful to talk about. You're boring everybody to death with your monotonous nonsensical drivel designed to do nothing more than get under my skin, and I assure you Pest.

You're not equipped to get under my skin.

Whether you like it or not, forty-six is your number. Believe it, Pest. On Wednesday night, either you or Eli, it doesn't really matter which, will...

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