He sat there in the kitchen, still smelling the fresh baked cinnamon rolls wafting through the air. Delilah had been at it again. His daughter was quite the little Betty Crocker, and the rolls were delicious. Well, even if he didn't normally require sustanance he would always eat HER creations.

You have to encourage your child, even if you are a feared serial killer.

He looked down into the blackness of his coffee, seeing his reflection due to the light overhead. His lips slowly curled upward.

He knew he had Morbid Angel by the balls. He had, sitting down in the cellar, the very thing that could get him what he wanted. He was ecstatic. Even if the cops did come, Cain somehow always got off Scott free. He had a damned good legal team, mostly made up of men who were part of dark covens. They could sway the jury.

To him, Angel was up the shit creek with no paddle to speak of. Cain had even went so far as to jam his own cell phone signal so that he could not be tracked. Thousands of years old and he's a techy?

Really?

Nope. Delilah was the technical genius who actually jammed the signal, and he was damned proud of her.

As he picked up his coffee and sipped, he couldn't help but think of the fact of having yet another XWF Star's fate in the palm of his blood stained hand. Peter Gilmour would either make sure he won Wednesday on Warfare, or he'd have to defend HIS title against him. Cain was quite protected, as if he was Roman Reigns. A darker, non-Samoan version who was cruel and sadistic.

Bret Hart once said "by hook or by crook" as it pertains to his biggest matches and Cain understood completely now the meaning of that. Fernando was a loss. He frowned a bit, a growl emanating from deep down in his chest. He thought, no knew, that he was the new superstar here in the XWF. He knew he should be the King, he just knew it.

So why not start with Morbid Angel? Lure him into a trap using the only thing Angel had besides whatever cats were left over from that experiment. "Fucking moron." he thought. Far as he knew or cared, that experiment just showed him that Morbid had a weak mind.

But this week wasn't about Angel. It was about Peter Gilmour and Dimallisher, two men who were both jokes to Cain. He furrowed his brow and rubbed his temples as he tried to decide which was more beneficial. A tag title shot? Or going forth to beat a man he KNEW he could beat? Finally WIN the first singles title and garner the fear and respect of the entire locker room?

Meanwhile, the young boy across from Cain shifted back and forth in his seat, half eaten cinnamon roll sitting on a white plate before him.

Cain could feel the boy's eyes upon him. He sneered. "What?"

Xerces felt the pressure on his bladder and whimpered. "I...I have to pee. Can I please go pee, sir?"

"Pft. Yeah and run away? You'll wait till Delilah gets back and you'll like it. And I swear to the True God that if you piss in my Fucking chair I will kick your little ass."

"...but...but...I..." Xerces groaned and whined as he rocked back and forth in his seat, tears welling up in his eyes. "...I don't want her watching me."

"Too fuckin' bad." Cain then thought about this for a moment. He studied the boy, his feminine mannerisms. He noticed how he would hold his cup with his pinky outstretched. But STILL, he was an adolescent being babysat by a hot 18 year old who would watch him pee. What the fuck? "I don't understand you, kid. Most boys your age would kill to show off for a hot teenaged girl. Hell, you might even get a boner!"

"Well...I...I don't like girls."

Cain tilts his head. What kind of thirteen year old boy wasn't interested in girls? Excluding him, of course because the only female influence in his life at that age was Eve. But later on he developed great interest, gave some woman the D and thus Delilah was born.

"I told my dad I was gay but he didn't believe me." Xerces confessed openly, with a sigh.

"Wait...what?" Inconceivable. The great Morbid Angel's seed was homosexual? Cain smirks and shakes his head, his amusement bringing forth laughter. He literally "guffaws".

Xerces rocks back and forth more feverishly. "PLEASE Mister Cain, let me go pee! I promise I won't try to run away!"

Cain has his reservations. He has his trust issues with everyone, including his own daughter. But, he stops his paranoia for just one moment. He looks at the young man sitting across from him, and his eyes cut to a door down the hall on the left. He nods toward it. "Fine, kid. You can go. But leave the door open, and know that if I hear that window slide open I will be in that bathroom quicker than Peter Gilmour on his own dick. I can and I will kill you. Understand? Know that I am not like Ghost Tank. I won't turn you into a woman and try to fuck you. I will kill you. Savvy?"

Xerces nods emphatically. "Yessir!" and bound down the hallway, feeling the beast watch him the whole way. Honestly, he wasn't too afraid of Cain at this point. Intimidated? Maybe. But the monster was being quite fair for a cold blooded murderer.

Cain sits there, checking his watch. This kid had better not do ANYTHING to piss him off. He's already in a sour mood, thinking about the debacle with Austin Fernando.

This was a match he felt that he should have won. But he came up short, and he had himself to blame. He was quick to underestimate the human as always.

Just as he starts to stand up, Xerces comes running back into the kitchen. Cain relaxes and looks at the kid. "...."

"Soooo....."

"...shut up and eat your damned breakfast." snapped Cain, causing Xerces to jump visibly. Yes, he showed leniency. No, it didn't mean he was soft. He was as hard hearted as before.

Cain sits there, watching the child eat, shaking his head. Why would he care if this kid got nourishment? He thought back to himself and Abel. He thought back to the way Abel was always in his parents' favor even though HE himself was the first born.

He identified with the kid, to be honest. After all, Morbid didn't really seem to care about the little bastard. All Angel cared about was his own endeavors of collecting dicks and killing cats.

"My dad beat Peter Gilmour."

"No shit. Whatever gave you that clue, and why did you bring that up?" said Cain, out of genuine curiosity.

Xerces answered. "Well, cuz I heard you were gonna fight Gilmour and Dim and I got really excited. You know, I've always been a huge fan of your work! I especially loved what you did to Vinnie Lane, although he makes me feel funny down th-"

Cain stops little Xerces, waving his hand. "-Yeah yeah, good to hear. But please, no more boner talk, kid." He found it amusing. So Morbid Angel's own son is a Cain fan? "Hrm-" he thought. "-this could be advantageous. Little bastard's got taste. That cocky sonuvabitch isn't going to like this."

Xerces blinks. "Mister Cain? Are you okay?"

It was then that a sick smile crossed the face of Cain."Oh yes, Xerces. I am excellent." his creepy grin broadening as he steeples his hands in front of him.

Angel was one thing. But this week was Peter Gilmour, and a win-win situation. Then again, he'd heard nothing from his partner. So he sat there and wondered if Cyren had just decided to retire. Honestly, Cain thought "He might as well, if he isn't going to contact his own damned partner."

Cain stood, and Xerces frowned. "Are you going somewhere?"

"Just....got work to do, Kid." he sighed, as Gilmour and Dimallisher were being pussies too.

Xerces watched as Cain walked down the hall. He could see the look in the Killer King's eyes and deep down he wondered if maybe Cain was planning a murder? Maybe he was going to go hunt down Cyren? "Oh em gee! Is he gonna murder Cyren?!" Thought the child. After all, he knew Cain was a psychotic killer.

However, he didn't believe the story about him actually being a biblical figure what with him not being a Christian. Xerces shook his head as the thoughts flooded his mind. What if Cain had decided to just kill him?! Maybe he was gonna prove a point to Peter and Dim!

"But why would he kill me? It's obvious that he wants me so he can use me to get to my father." the young boy rationalized. He sighed with relief.

Meanwhile...

---

"Nice to see you took twenty seconds to ramble on about Cyren and I, Gilmour."

"Seeing as how all you did for the first hour of that promo was to whine and drone about how you lost and Tyrone Jackson was "stacking the deck" against you, I'm suprised you acknowledged me at all. After all, you are and I quote "Soooo scared". You sound more like a grade school child who eats his own snot and feigns bravery, when you know as well as I do."

"You are terrified."

"You have to admit that you tried to steer your words far away from me. You had to keep bringing up John Madison and Tyrone Jackson. You go on and on about how Morbid Angel completely and utterly destroyed you and made you sick your own cock."

"Your cock."

"There's no such thing as a penis transplant, dipshit. That was YOUR dick and you can be in denial all you want but we all know the truth. You're fake. You're a liar. You're just trying to recover your loss to Angel but all the while, you've got something...someone...in the back of your mind. You can feel the reaper's hand laying lightly upon your shoulder and his breath on the back of your neck."

"My breath, Gilmour."

"I am the reaper."

Peter Gilmour Said:So line them all up Mr. Jackson, I'll knock them all out and put them all in the hospital until there is nobody left for me to fight. I will be the face of this company and I will be winning more gold real soon. Trust me on that!

"The Hart Title may not be real to you, but it is real to me. For years since I cut back on my murderous ways to become a prize fighter, I have bitten, scratched, and clawed my way to where I am now. Win or lose, I always fight with a fire that burns deep within my soul, and engulfs me. For a while I was blind but Fernando opened my eyes and now I say this with conviction..."

Cain bares his sharpened teeth, eyes narrowed and filled with intensiry. A burning pride blazes in the eyes of the perpetual challenger as he speaks through his teeth.

"I am a warrior, a mother fuckin' modern day Spartan."

"You are a goddamned coward because you are so quick to want all challengers for your title to dissappear. You aren't a true champion, you can't seriously call yourself the face of this company. You've sucked your own dick, you fantasize about marrying that whore Maria Brink and clone her so people think you're "cool". Hell, if anything, you're more like the ass of this company. You stink and nothing comes out of that hole but shit."

"Trust me on that."

"Fear me or not, I could give a fuck. Because I learned a lesson. It's never been words that mean a damned thing in this business. It's the actions. Hell, I could sit here and threaten to kill you all day."

Peter Gilmour Said:Make fun of my partner Dim all you want, it's not going to help you. Yeah, he may have a few screws loose but he's still my best friend as well as Unknown Soldier and Poppa Feder aka THE KILLERS. Dim is going to fuck you up and put you down for the 1..2...3! I wouldn't mess with him Cain. He tends to get very angry when people call him names and mock him. Trust me.. I know.

"See? I could make threats. Like yours. All day long. I don't give a shit if Dim sits in a corner crying into his cum and shit stained teddy bear. Dim can't fucking count to three and you know it. And forgive me if your friends really don't pique my interest, because I'm focused more on you and that title you hold so dear."

"You do realize that if I lose, I get you? Right? Well, another guy and I get you for that championship. Hell, I might just kick you in the balls and be done with it. Because the more shit you spit the angrier I get. The angrier I get, the more apt I am to destroy you. Then you can consider Wednesday an appetizer and Snow Job is the main course."

"Me standing above you as the new Hart Champion?"

He chuckles.

"That's dessert, fat boy."

"Bon appetit."

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