The cigar sat burning on the edge of the ashtray. It was beginning to fizzle out, but it was still the only thing illuminating the otherwise dark room.

On an old oak table sat the ashtray, with soot covered playing cards, a knife with fresh blood on it, and a pistol. Loaded or not, that's the gamble. Under the pistol sat ashy Polaroids of a young looking couple, smiling jubilant smiles and seemingly sitting on the edge of a ledge overlooking a mountain valley.

The picture had a sticky tag on the top, labeled "Appalachian Trip, 2006."

Chris and Nicole were happy back then. It was the last time they would ever be. Prom was just a few short months after this photo.

SPRING 2006

"I'm going to marry this girl."

He had his suit ready, tailored and looking like a million bucks (in reality he only paid about $150 to rent it), and he had just gotten off the phone with Tampa's top limo company. This would surely be a night to remember.

"I don't think I have ever felt this good." The smile on his face couldn't be wiped off with a bazooka.

Brett Miller sat in the corner of the room, his jeans ripped at the knees and his flannel shirt had seen better days.

"Spppptt" he spit his chew-spit into a Gatorade bottle. "Why you talking about marriage and all that man? Hell you ain't even 18, you're on a full ride to play football at the biggest pussy palace on the Gulf Coast......spppt.....you can't possibly be thinking marriage."

Chris had his suit coat on in the mirror, turning ever so slightly in every direction to get a shot of it from all angles.

"You have no idea, Brett. I know up there in Plant City you all fuck your relatives, but this is true love."

"Sppt."

"True love? My redneck ass. You know she's been fucking around with that Jason dude, right? How you know your baby maker ain't got them red bumps already brewin?"

"Sppt".

That wasn't an option. Chris didn't care if he got fucking HIV, as long as he got it from her.

Taking his suit coat off and hanging it neatly back into the bag from Men's Warehouse (he had spent his last dollar making sure it was perfect), he threw it over his shoulder, with the hanger wrapped around two of his fingers.

"Whelp...lets get going", as he headed for the door. Brett stared at him and adjusted his trucker hat.

"Your truck is still outside, please tell me you filled the meter. I'm not trying to walk back to East Tampa with a fucking tuxedo in my hands."

Brett spit again, then nodded, getting up. His cowboy boots clicked clacked on Men's Warehouse hardwood.

---

---

2 Weeks Later:

It was a beautiful day like it always is in the Bay City. April is such a pretty month on the Gulf Coast. Nice gulf breeze, moderate temperatures (75-90, limited humidity). Chris was so excited to get out of bed---today was prom rehearsal dinner. Tonight was the second greatest night of his life, in his eyes. When he put his feet down on the shag carpet, he barely felt it. He was almost floating on air reaching the bathroom. He could barely even feel himself brushing his teeth--it was just muscle memory.

Swish.

Swirl.

Spit.

Looking in the mirror, smiling, he winked at the screen and blew a kiss. He hadn't seen Nicole since her parents sent her to the reform school. The Bromley Brook School for Problem Girls. Nicole wasn't a problem, THEY were the problem. Chris did everything he could to see her when she was home on break or vacation. He went out of his way to see her. Digging through his dresser drawer, he moved boxers and socks aside. He dug down to the very back and bottom corner. Pulling out a folded piece of notebook paper, he opened it with a fever pitch. It was a note from Nicole.

December 9th, 2006 1:26PM Chris, My love, I don't know why I am here, or even where I am. I just know I am okay, so it could be worse. Things always get worse before they get better, and we will get through this. I just need you to be strong, for me , for you, for us. I will see you when I can. Once I turn 18, I can sign myself out of here, and we can go somewhere together. I've always wanted to see California. Maybe we can go to California. I just need you to keep your composure. I heard you went to my parents house after you heard the news. They weren't home, because they were bringing me here, but the more you flip out and cause a scene the less chance we have. Be calm, please, for me. You don't need to give them any more reason to hate you. They blame this on you, you know, which is completely ridiculous. I've told them several times that these were my actions, my choices. But they don't listen, they never listen. All the care about is what they want and when they want it. But if you are good, and you cooperate, they said they may consider taking me home early. I just need to show "improvement" according to them. It is stupid, but it is what it is. We will be together, when the time comes, just focus and believe. Think. California. Love, Nicole <3 143

He has probably read the letter 100 times. Maybe 1,000.

Little did he know, 5 miles away, in a rich neighborhood on the North East Side of Tampa, Jason was reading the letter he kept under his bed.

December 9th, 2006 1:26PM Jason, My love, I don't know why I am here, or even where I am. I just know I am okay, so it could be worse. Things always get worse before they get better, and we will get through this........

March 16th, 2006.

Nicole was home for the weekend. Chris has set aside all plans to see her. There was nothing on planet earth, no force of man, that would not allow him to see Nicole. He didn't care if he ended up in jail.

......he didn't care if he ended up dead.

At least he would see her before he died.

She had told her parents she was going shopping, getting her nails done, maybe some hair highlights. She WAS going to do all this---only Chris was going to go with her.

As the car rolled down Dale Mabry Avenue, a second car pulled out from Nebraska Ave and got in position, tailing them. It followed them to the mall, to the salon, to the hair place. It tailed them everywhere.

It even tailed them when they parked the car on the ofshoot of the Courtney Campbell, the beach area, where people rarely went.

Nicole climbed on top of Chris, her skirt rolled up around her waist. His hands gripped the pristine flesh of her hips, running down the back of her thighs to her perfect ass.

"Aaeiighh" she bit his neck as her body gyrated into his. His head was up, facing the roof. Her body twerked as her hips went back and forth.

"Aaeigh, gawd." She ran her hands through his hair. "J---Chris" she said. [i]Too caught in the moment to notice, he gripped her and pulled her tighter, hitting the back of her cervix with every thrust. After after 20 minutes, he unloaded, flooding her with his male potency. She claimed she had ovaries issues, only 1 working 100 percent, and that there was virtually no chance she could or would get pregnant with IVF.

When they got back to he mall he dropped her at her car. They kissed, and he sent her on her way.

On his way home he got a call on his cellphone. Turning his Slipknot music down, he answered it. 727 number. Clearwater Beach?

"I know what you did, Chris." The voice was distorted. "I know about you and Nicole. You aren't supposed to see Nicole. I have the pictures, the videos, putting you in places and at times, you're dead in the water."

Chris couldn't believe what he was hearing. Who the hell was this? A private investegator that her father had hired?

"What do you want?" He asked, smugly.

"I want you to tell Nicole you can't see her anymore. I want you to tell her it's over."

"No chance buddy, nice try. Get the fuck off my pho---"

"I am sure her parents would love to see the photos. Once they do, they will make that decision for you. Do you want that?"

"I want you to get off my phone."

"Tell her. Or I tell them."

Chris hung up, and threw his phone against the dashboard. Tell Nicole it's over....get the fuck outta here. He would rather be slowly tortured to death.

Then an idea hit him. He looked where he was at.....Countryway Boulevard, and he peeled out, whipping a U Turn.

Screaming down Bennington Drive he noticed a kid on the football team, Jamie Popka, and his brother, Louis, in his driveway, working on Jamie's car. Pulling up into the driveway he slammed he car into park. Walking up the driveway with a fever pitch, Jamie was the first to approach him.

"Chris J, my man, how's it--" Chris decked him in the face. Jamie hit the pavement, holding his cheek, before rolling onto the grass. Louis was now out from under the car. Chris grabbed him and yoked him up against it. Pulling his cellphone from his pocket and dialing the same number that called him, he listened for the ring.

1


2


3

times it rang. Finally, a voice on the other line.

"Looooooouiisss, myy man. Hey, so I called the little punk with the voice machine you sold me. I think I got him."

He knew that voice anywhere. Jason Corrigan.

"Been tailing him all day. Got photos. Videos. Even a Chevrolet sex tape. Maybe I'll sell it---or watch it myself while Nicole is sucking my---"

He slammed the phone shut. Grabbing Louis, he slammed his head through the window of the car. Instantly there was blood everywhere. The phone rang in the seat of the car.

4 weeks later, Nicole missed her period. She claimed it was stress related, for being sent there and not being able to be home with her friends.

2 day after that, 3 days before prom, Chris got another phone call. Another voice he recognized.

Doctor Dagastino, Nicole's father.

He flipped the phone open. "Yes?"

"We need to have a talk about Nicole."

---

---

The pictures were collecting dust. A single drop of blood fell from above, splashing over the photo--more specifically, the face of Nicole. Chris brought the razer back to his wrist again. The pain let him know he was alive. All humans bleed.

When he was done, he bandaged up. There was a knock on the door.

"Chris?! You ready?! We are going to the mall today, remember?!"

Jenny.

"Give me a minute."

He took the picture of Nicole's face, now covered with his blood. He brought the edge of the cigar up to the corner, and watched as the picture went up in flames. When the flame got too close to his hand he dropped it, pouring his Evian water on it, and blowing the ashes off the desk. On the desk now was a photo of the XWF Universal Title. The REAL Universal Title, not this gaudy fraud.

Tapping it with his knuckle, he stood up, leaving the room, and leaving the cigar burning on the ashtray below.

When they came back, hours later, the cigar was still lit.

The flame still burned.

The fire was still alive.

The fire was stronger than it had been before.




"Have you ever asked yourself, what would Jesus do? What you should be asking, is what would Chaos do? I am the closest thing you will find to a wrestling God, fuck what Gilmour says. But you have had God in your life your entire life, haven't you? You hate people who hide behind religion, but you do the very same. You have turned to God in your weakest moments and have asked him why he has forsaken you. You've spent more time on your knees than a prostitute at a dwarf convention. And don't pretend you haven't. You're nothing but a bad 80's music video Steve....you may look cool to the eye but the substance and quality of your product is subpar at best. Good for it's time....and that's exactly it. It's time. Your time has long since come and gone. I am what you used to be, a former champion hungry to get my title back. Only, unlike you, I will succeed. I won't have to quit for some lame excuse and come back to a party from a roster who forgot I even still existed and feign excitement because Vinnie Lane tells them they have to. Nobody cares about you, Steve. In a way, this is more of a homecoming for me than it is for you.

What do I mean?

Well let me explain, if I may. Everyone, for as long as I can remember, has been asking me to bring the old chaos back. They all claimed I had dropped a step, that being a champion had actually made me weaker as a competitor. Perhaps it had. When I wasn't the Universal Champion, I was the most feared man on this roster--and the most dangerous one, too. Nobody wanted to face me, but they did because they had to. And time and time again, they would fall. But not only would they fall, they would be put out of action for some time, if not permanently. I was backed into a corner. I became a hero to some, and a villain to most. Sound familiar? It put asses in seats, it sold merch, and it brought XWF to the next level. People either loved me, or loved to hate me. They couldn't get enough. All while they were cheering or booing me, either one, were they thinking about you? No. They had put Steve Davids so far in the back of their mind that even a brain surgeon couldn't find it.

But these people, they need it. They need me back the way I was. I am like that drug that they just can't kick. Steve Davids.....hell some of these fans who crave the chaos don't even know who you are, much less care. Even if they do give a flying fuck in space about your return, it is ONLY because you are facing me. Cheer for me or boo me, YOU only matter to ANYONE right now because you are facing ME. Facts are facts. I am not being a dick, I am speaking the truth. I may sound like I am beating a dead horse here, but this company runs around me. I am the lifeblood. I am the chaos that keeps order possible. The ying to the yang. They don't just want me, they need me. They want to see me in action, see how I will rebound. All of those kids, teens and adults alike, sitting in front of their television sets either hoping I win or hoping you kick my ass. Either way, they care. If you had been put into a match with LJ Havok, Kirean O'Connor or that Halloween store Asian who I am pretty sure is transgender, nobody would care. You're in the co-main event, because of me. And let me explain to you WHY Jenny is the ref for this match--I know you may be a bit befuddled. Because this show runs around me and Jim Caedus. Him defending his Television Title--which is a Savage exclusive, and me creating a chaotic and tense atmosphere that keeps ass cheeks tilting chairs forward. Colton knows this. He knows what I bring to the table. Without Caedus and I, THERE IS NO SAVAGE. Do you really think anyone is scrambling to StubHub to buy tickets to see Vasquez vs. Mezian vs. Shade? Look at the card, Steve, get your head out of your big British arse for just a second and realize that there isn't a goddamn match on this card worth watching until the Main Events. Colton's attempt to start the show off with a bang even fell short. Main and Graves vs. Havok and Tiberius? Yawn. AX3 will RUN OVER those two dark match scrubs, and then Savage will have an HOUR of useless programming until we step into the ring. Are you getting the bigger picture here?

You WERE great, and I AM great. I Main Event shows, champion or not. Do you see Gabe Reno on this card? No, because he has Scully syndrom. He is going to flaunt the belt around like a dog who finally caught a squirrell but never actually defend his belt. Then, when it is time to defend it, he will be taken by shock worse than Juni's grandparents when the Enola Gay dropped the atomic bomb. Reno isn't great. I've said it before and I will say it again, he is a placeholder. A placeholder for ME.

You were put into this match FOR A REASON, Steve. You don't believe in God--which I still think is a fallacy, by the way--then maybe you will believe in fate. Fate has put you here, Steve. Because everything happens for a reason. Management wanted to take one of the legends, the superstars, the "faces" of the old XWF and put him up against the greatest competitor this company has ever seen. It is a test, Steve. Your own "family" is testing you. Your own "family" is giving you an entrance exam to see if you are worthy. Is that what families do? Is that what good families do? Is that what people who love each other do? Nobody loves you, Steve. They have thrown you to the wolves, and they won't feel satisfied until the bones are licked clean. They could have put you up against anyone on this roster to get an easy win in your homecoming.....but clearly, they are trying to make sure that your comeback voyage ends like the Titanic..in running, screaming, terror, and panic. I am a sick, sadistic freak and I have no regard for human life inside that ring.........

......but your "family" loves you?

Pssht. You were better off sticking with Jesus.

So this is my homecoming. I took care of ICONOLAST, and now it is time to get back to who I truly am. The real Chris Chaos. But while I know who the real Chris Chaos is, my stance still remains the same on one thing, Steve Davids doesn't know who Steve Davids is. And that is why Steve Davids will fall to the greatest professional wrestler this company has ever signed at Savage.

But I am glad you found my promo so entertaining, and by the looks of it, you paid pretty good attention. I see you nitpicked away very well.



"These bloody brits and their whacky numbering systems. Hell, to think, I actually gave you credit. I actually looked at your record in the XWF archives and thought "wow, this guy must be somewhat legit." Then you come out and you admit that you have lost 19 times. 27-19-1. I am awestruck. Let me try to wrap my head around this for a second. You were on a worse roster, and you lost that many times. Sheesh, to think.......whelp, that is the last time I give a Brit credit for anything anymore. I'll be a big man and admit too, I fucked up there, but this is AMERICA and in AMERICA we list things differently. We list things correctly. We give credit where credit is due....so, on that note, I am going to take back any praise I once had in my mind for you. 19 times, Steve.......

.....I would have just taken the credit, honestly.

But no, you can't do that. Your a nice guy, or so you seem like one. I have never heard a promo with such venom being delivered in such a polite and proper manner. Charming. Honestly I am shocked your love slept with someone else with all the charm you can turn on in the snap of a finger. Maybe it was inadequacies in other departments? Cough....cough......penis.....cough. Maybe someone else could satisfy her in a way that you simply couldn't.

Maybe someone else had what she needed. It upsets you, doesn't it? GOOD. I need that fire and passion to show on Savage. We need to tear the house down. We need to bring the noise, the energy.....we need to set the tone. I need you to be angry. You dissected my promo like an overzealous teenager in biology class, but you obviously didn't dig too far back. If you did, you'd know the story of Nicole and Jason. Don't EVER tell me that losing the love of your life is an excuse for anything. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't miss Nicole. She was my one true love, the only being I will ever love, and she tore my heart right out of my chest. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think of Jason Corrigan, the man who ruined it all and took from me the one thing I truly loved.....

....I didn't leave wrestling because of it. I got stronger from it.

I used it as motivation, as fuel to the fire that was already raging inside my tortured soul. We all come from rough backgrounds, Steve, but it is how you counter it that makes you who you are. How you rise above adversity and become a true legend. When your love tore your soul out, you tucked your tail and ran. I got hungrier. When Reno dropped me on those steps inside that cell, I looked up and I saw Jason Corrigan in his eyes. I saw the one thing I loved--since I can't have Nicole--leave me just like she did. But you know what?

I AM HUNGRIER NOW THAN I HAVE EVER BEEN.

So don't use it as an excuse, Steve. Use it as fuel.

So go to "extreme measures". I welcome it. Jenny will DQ you so fast your eyes will spin. This match is set up for me to win. Why? Because I pulled a few strings and made a few moves.

TheSlayerofKings Said:You see, I get the impression that you think the name KingSlayer is rather redundant, because as your promo so gracefully pointed out, one king is always replaced with another. However, I don’t just slay any king. I slay the kings that should not be kings. I slay the men who run their kingdom with fear and tyranny instead of love and fairness, does that make me a bad man?

No. It makes you a pawn. You see, every "slayer" claims that their handy work is justified. Every "slayer" of a monarchy claims that the one they shot for was worth shooting. But they have to tell themselves that. YOU have to tell yourself that. I run my Kingdom, the XWF , with an iron fist. I cannot be slain. Strike me down, sure, go ahead, but I just keep getting back up. I am never truly down. So take your best swing with your mightiest ax, but I will continue to fight until there is nothing left of my body to fight with. I may not deserve this in your eyes, but I have battled longer and harder than anyone to get to where I am at. I have been screwed constantly in Phoenix Wrestling---so bad that I wasn't even able to sniff a title. Then here, over and over the deck has been stacked. But where am I now? I am in the main event, again, as usual. All of their attempts to keep me at bay have proved to be nothing but feeble and meek. I have seen it coming from a mile away and I adjusted. Now, I have Jenny in my corner and for ONCE, the ball is in my court. A ball that I simply cannot afford to let roll away.

Like you asked wayyyyyyyyyy back in 2014, "Is it true what they say about honor?"

TheSlayerofKings Said:"I walk these corridors and no one ever seems to come out and greet the Psycho Sensation. Not one fellow has welcomed me to this 'wondrous' company yet you wonder why I remain so hostile to every vile creature in sight... I have nothing to be kind about.

Didn't you just tell me that a man who runs his kingdom with "fear and tyranny instead of love and fairness" isn't fit to be a king? Yet, there is nothing to be kind about. What has changed so much in you in that time? You've gone soft, Davids, that is what happened. You've gone softer than ice cream on a hot day. You know it, and I know it. You don't have the heart any longer to put me down.

TheSlayerofKings in 2014 Said:Every time you walk out of your door just know that I could be there with this in my hands."

Chris stepped out of the shadows with a photo of Steve's mother in his hands. He held the cigar to the corner.

"To love something, is to truly let it go. She died to give you life......now Steve, three years later, your career will die just like she did--before you ever truly saw it."

He lit the picture as it fluttered to the ground. When it was finally a pile of ashes, he blew out the candle and all that could be heard was his whisper in the darkness.....

"To love something is to truly let it go....trust me, I would know"

Static.


XWF RECORD: 27-7-2
XWF UNIVERSAL CHAMPION: 1X