"That's the look!"


Sasha's exclamation instantly seized Nathaniel's attention, ceasing his trajectory as he exited the hospital.


"Excuse me?"


Turning to face Sasha, Nathaniel raised a brow in inquiry.




His perplexed expression, quickly drawing a giggle from her as she picked up her pace, to join him at his side.


"The look you had on your face as you were leaving, I could tell it happened."


What was this silly girl on about now? Nathaniel pondered as they both began their journey through the vast wonderland, that was the parking lot.


"Tell what happened?"


"That you just got Cobalted?"


This drew a chuckle from Nathaniel as he retrieved a cigarette and proceeded to fire it up.


"What?"


"Cobalted. As in you were summoned for an attendance with Dr. Cobalt Bently. He probably had some long, drawn out speech about how great you are, but really it was all a ploy, a part of his ingenious master plan because before you knew it, you were agreeing to go to some stuffy dinner party that he's hosting."


Another laugh, Nathaniel shook his head and exhaled a cloud of smoke.


"That's pretty much how it went down."


"Ugh. Good luck. I do not envy you. Mind if I steal a coffin nail? I'm all out until I pick some up on the way home and it has been a brutal day. Mrs. Reilly, our mandated town drunk, managed to puke all over my shoes. Like every bit of vomit somehow only hit my shoes. This was when I was on my way to meet you for our date with Mr. Clark. The Gastroenterostomy. Remember. I was late and you looked at me like I offered you latkes and a copy of the Qur'an. That's why I was late. I cut through the ER waiting room and WHAM! Projectile vomit all over my fucking shoes! I had to throw my shoes and socks away and buy new ones, from the gift shop. Totally tragic."


"I see."


Nathaniel removed a cigarette from his pack and handed it to Sasha along with his zippo lighter. The one with the bold, black iron cross on its face. Which she promptly used to ignite the cigarette that he just gave her and then handed it back to Nathaniel.


"Sweet lighter."


She stated, her eyes trained ahead as they continued forward in the parking lot.


"Uh... thanks."


He replied somewhat awkwardly as he returned his lighter to his pocket. Never really got a comment about the lighter, besides the ones from the folks that knew what it represented and then, it usually wasn't a positive response. Those that didn't know what the symbol represented usually thought he was religious and said nothing, except for a "thanks for the light", from time to time.


"I know what an iron cross is by the way."


"Is that so?"


Sasha stopped and stepped in front of Nathaniel, abruptly halting him from continuing forward. She then proceeded to slip her pants down; low enough, to reveal that she had two iron crosses, tattooed on her hip bones. Nathaniel, was slightly unsure, how he should react to this display. So he kept his response brief. Short and nonchalant.


"Interesting."


"Yeah. I got them while I was in med school. It was my gift to myself, for passing a semester without pulling my hair out."


Sasha laughed, swiftly pulling her pants back into place, she took a drag from her cigarette and moved to the side as they resumed their journey.


"I'm not Jewish, by the way."


"Good to know."


Drawing a drag from his cancer stick, Nathaniel was a tad taken aback by the straightforward statement.


"When I made the comment, about the latkes and the Qur'an, earlier. It was just a joke, it's not because I'm Jewish."


"Honestly. I didn't even give it any thought. Past that you were attempting humor in some fashion."


"Attempting humor in some fashion. God, you really are a serious sort of guy, aren't you? Serious and intense. I bet those are your only two emotions."


Sasha chuckled.


"Fuck off. I have other emotions besides those."


Mockingly, he scoffed at her comment, as he exhaled a cloud of smoke.


"Yeah? Programmed you with a few extra bonus emotions, down at the Nazi robot factory, did they?"


"The Nazi robot factory?"


"You know, where they built you. Or wait. Did you not know that? Damn. Did I just ruin everything? Are you going to self destruct now? I hope not. I was just starting to really enjoy working with you."


An eye roll. Nathaniel sighed. This girl was something else.


"Funny."


"I thought so."


She smirked.


"So are you curious?"


"About what?"


"What I am, if I'm not German."


"Not really."


"Oh."


Really? Was that disappointment? Sigh. Women.


"Fine."


A drag from his cigarette.


"Tell me. What are you if you're not Jewish."


There was that smirk again.


"German."


"Surprise. Surprise."


There was much sarcasm exuded, before he released a puff of smoke.


"Well, I'm not a hundred percent German. I'm also part Russian."


"German and Russian. With the last name Isles. Fascinating."


"My parents split up a little while after I was born. They weren't married either. There wasn't a fight over custody. My mom kept me and he split town. Never came back. So I didn't get a chance to know him. My mom doesn't talk about him much either. The subject seems to bother her, ergo I don't bring it up. She eventually married a man named Marcus Isles, when I was six. Took his name and everything. He adopted me, which meant I had to take his name too. He's kind of always been an asshole, to be completely frank. Luckily, I moved out when I was in college and have been on my own, ever since. So I only have to endue him, every so often."


Sasha took a drag from her cigarette and quickly exhaled a gust of smoke.


"Before you ask, yes... he's black."


Nathaniel broke out into a laugh.


"I wasn't going to ask."


He was smirking.


"Is that why you got those tattoos in a spot that isn't easily visible?"


"Fuck no. I got them there cause I wanted them there. I was also running out of room on my arms and already had the available portions designated for future ideas. You wouldn't understand this though, Mr. Clean Cut, Nondescript, Perfect and Pure, White Supremacist."


"I have tattoos."


"Really? Where?"


"I'm not going to disrobe in the fucking parking lot, to show you what I got but yeah, I have them."


"Interesting."


A sly grin overtook Sasha's face.


"This is me."


Nathaniel stated, removing his keys as he stopped in front of his car. A midnight blue, 2017 Mercedes-Benz E-Class Coupe.


"Look at that. I'm right across from you. Weird. It clearly must be a sign."


Sasha pulled out her keys and pointed towards the truck, directly across from Nathaniel's car. The lime green, 1987 Chevy Silverado, didn't just let its presence be merely known. It screamed it. Nathaniel didn't know what to say about what he was witnessing. All he knew was that he couldn't hold back his laughter.


"That's some truck."


"Hey! Don't diss my ride, man. That truck is a beast. It's unstoppable. I've had it since I was sixteen. I love that truck."


"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder."


"You're a dick. Hey, before you split, give me your phone for a second."


"Why?"


"Cause I want to smash it into a million pieces."


Sasha rolled her eyes.


"I want to put my number into it. This way, when you're on your way back from that god awful dinner party, you can text me and tell me all about it. Then, I can tell you all about the one that I was roped into attending, and we can compare notes."


Nathaniel, didn't know why he went along with this, but he did. He handed over his phone to Sasha. Who immediately entered her number into it, handing it back off to Nathaniel, when she finished her objective.


"See? This way you're in control. If you want to text me, you can. Whereas, if I got your number first, you definitely would get bombed with something crazy and totally off the wall, right off the bat. Most likely within minutes of you leaving the parking lot. However, this way you can decide, if you want to text me and do it at your leisure. Or not. Whatever. Be forewarned though, if you do... there is a very large chance, that you'll wind up receiving random bizarre texts, from that moment forth."


"I'll keep that warning in mind."


The two parted ways, with Nathaniel entering his vehicle and Sasha rushing across the lot, to hers. As Nathaniel started up his car, an odd realization overtook him. Sasha, wasn't a pure blooded, German and he didn't hate her. He didn't even mind her. In fact, the more he thought about it, he realized that there was something that slightly, drew him to her. But that was insane. Preposterous. Completely absurd. This had to be something derived from the wolf. Ever since it became a part of him, a part of his life, there's been trouble and now, there was this. Sigh. Maybe he just had to eat something. He was starving after all. Though, even in that, there came complications because he recognized the hunger that was stirring and it wasn't for anything, that you could easily order off any restaurant menu.




"Scully."


"The time approaches."


"The moment draws near."


"Are you ready for what's in store for you, when you step through those ropes and we meet in that ring?"


"Can you even fathom what you're about to face?"


"I'm certain that you'll tell yourself that you are. You may even believe it. I can simply look at you and know that's false. I hear it in your voice. You're overcompensating. Brandishing and boasting aspects of the past. Like they're relevant right now, in this present. Allow me to reeducate you, the past has no bearing on what will happen between you and I. Especially, not a war that occurred decades before I was born. I may have derived from a pure German bloodline but that doesn't mean that it was me, on those battlefields. Therefore, whatever point that you were trying to prove, by bringing up those wars... is utterly moot."


"Just like your football stats and scores, carry no weight of importance. Not in this fight, they don't. Why would they? Because of the mere fact that the German team is out, but England is still going strong? Are you serious? That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. Why the fuck would that have any bearing on either of us? Are the teams going to show up and play a game to determine who wins the match? Christ. Scully. Hearing you talk is like hearing the ramblings of a mentally challenged child. Do you honestly expect me to take you seriously? Do you think that anyone does?"


"If you honestly believe that I couldn't have a more difficult title defense than you? Oh wow. I am really going to be looking forward to this fight. To that exact moment, when you realize who you're in the ring with and what I'm capable of doing, to an insufficient mongrel, like you. Trust me when I say, the damage that will be generously inflicted upon you, won't be done to impress anyone. Though, I'm certain the very squeamish and young members of the audience, won't be able to watch the match for long."


"I told you that I would break you. That I would make you suffer. Those are not words, that I shed lightly. I am not a man who states things, for the mere fact of putting on a frightening facade. No. I am most assuredly a man of my word. So when I tell you that your torment will know no bounds. That the torture shall be unrelenting. Unyielding to your screams for mercy. You will learn the true meaning of pain and it will last with you, for the rest of your days. I mean it. Oh... you'll be the face of Savage alright, but it won't be for what you would want it to represent. No. Your face, shall mark the momentous occasion of what happens, when someone faces the new television champion. Your tear stained, snot covered, blood soaked mug, will be the sight that everyone remembers, when its their turn to face me. You, Scully shall be the first, in a long totem pole of the broken, defeated and destroyed. So in that, perhaps you are aiding in the process, of making Savage great again. Because.... FINALLY! The Show will live up to its name!"

Current Hart Champion
1x X-Treme Champion
1x Television Champion
1x SOTM November 2013