Constance Arden, age forty-five, was traveling down a stretch of road in the middle of nowhere, late one evening. There weren't many street lights and few people adventured out at this hour but this was her route home. She couldn't just camp out at her previous location and wait for daylight and the comfort of fellow motorists to appear, the woman wanted to get to her house. Things happen, individuals have everyday obligations and demands that they need to fulfill, along with selfish wants and personal requirements, so the possibility of staying out well after dark is a reality that is both probable and inevitable. Happens all the time. Constance has also made this journey, on hundreds of occasions. Why it happens so often, she doesn't even feel fear or trepidation, when embarking towards her destination during this time of night. All she feels is anxious to get home. The desire for her favorite meal, still warm and ready to be eaten in the car and the prospect of curling up on the sofa, while watching reruns of Desperate Housewives, are her only main concerns. Even after her tire blows and she's forced to pull over.


With a sigh, Constance pops the trunk, opens the door and steps out of her vehicle. The pale light of the moon casting an eerie glow onto the remote road and emphasizing its emptiness, barely even bothering her or giving a cause for pause. She has a level head and she is prepared. Taught herself how to change a tire and always remembers the equipment she will need. Spare, jack, tire iron, Constance was set. Annoyed because of the inconvenience of it all but still set. Steady, self assured steps lead her to the back of the car; specifically to the trunk area, where she stores her spare tire.


There is a frigid, icy chill in the air tonight and as Constance lifts the lid to her trunk, it greets her with a blustery breeze that ruffles her shoulder length, salt and pepper hair. All around her the forest comes alive with the wind, trees billowing and swaying about with their leaves rustling in an instant frenzy, while the undergrowth shimmies and shakes. Almost as if the plant life is warning her of an impending danger. A looming doom, in wait. Slightly shuddering from the cold, Constance reaches for the tire, her hand gripping its rubber ridge, tight. That is as far as she gets. That is when she feels, what she thinks is the very end of a thick, metal pipe or pole, being pressed against the back of her skull. In actuality, it is the barrel of a Luger or Parabellum pistol.


"Guten Tag, Frau Arden."


Daring not to turn around, Constance speaks in a quivering tone.


"Wh-who are y-you? W-what d-do you w-want?"


"Who I am is irrelevant. What I want? Is the extinction of your specific kind of scum. Even if I have to do it all by myself. One walking, contaminant of the human race at a time."


"W-why? W-what d-did I d-do?"


"You know what you did? Just like you know what you plan on doing? And if anyone, with a working mind and a medical degree, were to investigate your car, they would find it awfully suspicious. So lets cut the act, shall we? Constance. I seen you, at the shopping center, where you went to blow off some steam after work and I saw what you did. I've been following you for a very, long time and I know, everything."


There's a moment of silence and suddenly, Constance's voice changes. Her tone steadies and yet it is laden and ripe with desperation.


"You don't have to do this, you know? You can pretend that you never seen me and I promise, I won't go to the police and tell them anything, honest. In fact, I'll pay you, to walk away and forget you ever saw me. Money isn't an issue with me. Sky's the limit. How much do you want? I'll pay anything. Everyone has a price, right? What's yours?"


"Most do, yes. And on any other night, you might have gotten things to work in your favor. You might have actually succeeded and bribed your way out of this current, predicament that you're facing but not tonight and definitely, not with me."


Desperation is a hell of a thing, most notably when someone's back is pressed against the wall and they feel that all hope may be lost, if they don't do something fast. That frenzy that overtakes a person. The kind that makes them act rash and foolish. Constance experiences such a sensation and it causes her to go for the tire iron, conveniently in arm's length from the spare tire. She swings around, intent on cracking open the skull of her antagonist/potential threat and fleeing. She fails to do either. For her poorly executed plan is thwarted when the tire iron is caught in the grasp of this man's free hand...





Before it is quickly thrown aside and then, he smirks.


"That was sad Constance. Really, really sad. Now... the old me, would have said there was no way for you to cause me any sort of harm because I'm a pure blooded German and you're an insufficient piece of shit, befitting the interior of a gas chamber but literally anyone and I mean... anyone! Could have stopped you from swinging that tire iron. Even the most slow or dimwitted. Hell, a drunk, mentally handicapped person, could have avoided that one. Also, I am not a pure blooded German, at least not anymore, I'm not. Not since the infection took hold. The good news is that I'm finally at a place in my life, where I've learned to accept that fact. No more running from it or denying the truth. And you know what, Constance? It is with that truth, I was set free. Free from the shackles of my past. Free from a life that was planned out and prepared for me, before I was even born. Free from my ancestors. And now, I'm my own man! Well, I use the term man rather loosely... much like anyone who knew the crimes that you were guilty of committing, would use the word woman, very loosely and no, I am not talking about being gender fluid. I am speaking of monsters, Constance and you are, without a shadow of a doubt... a monster. The bad news for you is... so am I."


"I don't understand, why are you telling me all of this?"


"You know, I don't even fucking know myself. I suppose it's good to hear things out loud. To hear yourself talk. Gain some sort of perspective of the situation. This allows you to reevaluate the circumstances. Which is something I've done. See, I was going to kill you, blow your brains out with this gun that I'm holding but now, I do believe that I've changed my mind."


"You're not going to kill me then?"


"Oh, I'm definitely going to kill you but now, I think I'd rather get some satisfaction out of it."


Bewildered and a little dumbfounded, Constance looks on as the man, who has been revealed as Nathaniel Idenhaus (A factor that's lost on her cause she isn't a wrestling fan.), puts away his gun and starts to disrobe. Rather swiftly too and Constance, didn't understand why or what was even going on? What was happening? Was this a rape attempt or what? Cause if it was, it was extremely crude and feeble. That's when he started to change. Right as the last piece of garment hit the ground. Constance had been slowly backing away during the whole undressing process but is still far from her automobile's driver side door; which is shut, when it occurs.


When a type of transformation or metamorphosis takes effect. Nathaniel's body elongates and broadens as muscles expand and his features deform. To the onlooker, it would appear as though an unseen force was twisting and contorting a man's body, into the form of a wolf, from deep within. It was grotesque and obscene, truly a sight that could shock someone still, no matter how much their body begged for them to run. In a final act of humanity before this unnatural process is complete, Nathaniel tosses his head back and through a mouth held agape by tremendous fangs, he screams. A tortured outcry of agony, anguish and intense rage, it is animalistic and terrifying. Solely hearing it alone, would be enough to make even the most fearless of men, weak in the knees and tremble as their blood ran cold with fright. This is closely followed by a sick, wet ripping noise, as the beast from within Nathaniel, tears forth and the wolf fully emerges.


Constance's shrieks were next to deafening... too bad no one was around for miles to hear them.

---

Eight hours earlier.
Location: The Citadel
Whereabouts: Unknown


Within a large room, lined with display screens on the walls and various pieces of complicated equipment and machines, situated throughout it. A group of individuals; comprised of both men and women, are gathered at the central point. Where they are sitting at a massive, metal table, having a meeting of some kind. Those in attendance are a great majority of the team of extraordinary beings and supernatural impossibilities, known as - The Elite. Now normally, such a parley would be held and led by Azrael Erebus but for some reason or another, he seemed to be missing. Instead, Griffin MacAlister sat where the spaceman would have, appearing to have taken his place at the head of the table. Listening as several members voiced their opinions on a rather controversial idea that he shared. A concept that was not well received. His suggestion... grant Nathaniel Idenhaus, permission to join the Elite. Ha! No wonder it wasn't well received! What was he thinking?!?!


"No way. No how." - Itchataki Hiroshi


"That's absurd." - Elias York


"Oh my goodness, how could you even propose such an idea." - Ginnifer Sparrow


"Not a chance." - Ivy Vynes


"It's crazy to even suggest such a thing." - Chase Chambers


"Hell nah! I will not work with that motherfuckin' nazi piece of shit!" - Levin Bell


"If he joins the team, I'll quit." - Adam Fontane


"You're cracked." - Olive Pendershore


Before anyone else could voice their thoughts, Griffin stood and fired up a cigarette.


"Guys, guys... get a fuckin' grip and calm yourselves, alright? For fuck's sake. Seriously. You're better than this shit. Look, I know this ain't an ideal match up but in the wake of what's happened with Azrael, we need all the help we can get. We all have our skeletons and demons, pasts that we can't erase. Dillinger is a serial killer fueled by a blood lust, Azrael incinerated four versions of Earth, Vincenzo Armand used to be in the mafia... christ, the man still carries a shotgun around in his hollowed out wooden leg, Mick Ashcroft is a vampire that wasn't always a detective and sometimes took it upon himself to slaughter entire towns, Zane Norrison has infected people during wrestling matches cause he gets carried away with himself, I'm an ex-assassin, gun for hire... I could keep goin' but I'll stop there. The point is nobody's perfect or righteous. Not even Alister Dante, that man used to shoot heroin and junkies, will do some terrible shit to get their next fix. Sure. He's clean now and doing the lord's work but he wasn't born a saint. We are all guilty of something and a lot of us, have done some really, horrendous stuff. Nathaniel wanted to become the leader of the Fourth Reich and slaughter billions of the population. So what? He didn't do it, did he? Last I checked, we aren't havin' this discussion inside a concentration camp, while we wait our turn to take the last shower we'll ever take, are we? He's not sitting on a throne of skulls and bones as the world's first Fuhrer, correct?"


"That's cause he sucks and couldn't get the job done."


"Yes, thank you for that, Axle. That in depth insight, right there. It really added to things and contributed to the positive aspect of this here, conversation."


Griffin sighed loudly and took a drag from his cigarette, exhaling quickly soon after.


"Y'know what, bottom line, Azrael put me in command of The Elite, so it's my call. I tried to be nice and open this up for discussion but I can see, y'all are going to be stubborn and hard headed about this shit. Hate me, get mad, quit, it's up to you but all that'll prove is that you weren't serious about being here in the first place. If you can't put aside your own opinions and work with someone for the greater good of this city and its people... of this planet and its population, then you probably should have never joined."


Griffin stopped, took a pull from his cigarette and continued.


"Now I get it, Nathaniel had an evil, twisted plot brewin' inside his brain and he's responsible for some unspeakably cruel and vicious acts and that puts everyone on edge. Makes their stomach turn with disgust. Provokes rage and invokes the idea of revenge. If anyone understands, it's me. I get it. Frankly, outta everyone here, I should despise that man and want to put an end to his life, most of all but I'm not going to do that. I choose not to do that because that would make me, precisely what I used to be. What I am desperately seeking redemption for being. A killer. Not only that but I'd be deprivin' Grey from knowing his real father and that isn't right either. Now, I can't erase the past or who I was but I can strive to be better. Which is exactly what Nathaniel is trying to do. For himself and his son."


Brief pause and an exhaled cloud of smoke.


"Oh and for the record, he didn't come to me asking to join, I suggested it. He came by my apartment, we talked and I told him straight up, if he wanted to change, it starts with makin' amends, for all the wrong you did and what better way to do that, than by doing some good in the world. You can't alter or fix the past but you can make a brighter tomorrow. That's all I'm doing. Then I asked him if he'd be interested in joining us in our fight to save the world, opposed to his plot of conquerin' it and he said yes. That's a start in my book. Y'all can take it however you want but man, how fucked up and hypocritical can you get, if you got a problem with it and can't give the dude a chance at redemption. Anyway, that's all I gotta say on the matter. As acting leader of The Elite, I... Griffin Timothy MacAlister, instate Nathaniel Idenhaus into the Elite. Meeting adjourned."


Taking another pull from his cigarette, Griffin turned away from the team and exited the room. Leaving them to think on what he stated and talk amongst themselves.

---

"Let me start this by saying, the man standing before you is not the man you remember. Yes, I used to be a part of The Black Circle and yes, I preached in favor of mass genocide and world domination. I promised to become the next Fuhrer and leader of the Fourth Reich. It was my agenda to cleanse society and wash away all its filth, thus allowing civilization to flourish in a utopia of perfection, where only the pure and powerful thrived. Survival of the fittest! What I presumed to be the definition of that - flawless, strong, hard working, honest, clean, morally upstanding, highly intelligent, diseaseless and white. This was my master plan for many years. What I believed was my destiny and birth right. After all, who better to rule over everything with an iron fist, than a pure blooded German and descendant of Hitler's regime?"


"Recently, I've had a startling, self realization and with it, an epiphany of sorts. I am not a pure blooded German, not anymore, anyway and that dream of mine, wasn't really something that I wanted any further. In truth, it wasn't even a life-long goal or something that I grew up striving to make happen, I didn't desire to do such things, until I was halfway done with med school and my grandfather was beaten to death. Something snapped in me that day and I felt like I had to carry on a legacy."


"All in the name of honor, respect for the fatherland and my heritage. If I were to continue on that path, I'd be a hypocrite and a liar to myself, I would be sentencing my son to death, which I don't want to do and I'd be carrying out a plan that I didn't technically devise. A program that was instilled in me from birth, an agenda that was my ancestors, not mine and I'm done with that bullshit. This does not mean that I have grown weak or soft, it isn't a sign that I have become passive or my adversaries should fear me any less. All it means is that I am no longer a nazi."


"I am still the same man, all that's changed is my beliefs. On the next edition of Saturday Night Savage, I will showcase that when I take on Michael Archer Jr. and Kieran Overton, both relatively new to the company, they will undoubtedly make false assumptions, both in and out of the ring. Well Kieran and Michael, listen up and hear my words, for I speak the gospel truth. I'm never going to stop being the relentless, unyielding force that can and will, systematically destroy and ultimately annihilate my opponents. Not even after I've had a little eye opening, personal growth and it inspired me to turn my back on something that I was conspiring to commit for years. Not even that will alter my actions in the ring. Hah! I'm just an equal opportunist, when it comes to beat downs now, everyone gets brutalized the same."

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