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Doctor Louis D'Ville Away
Hello, my friends
The 24/7 Shot!



XWF FanBase:
Very random

(heel alignment but liked by many; has earned respect despite breaking the rules often)


#1
04-29-2021, 10:28 AM

CONTROL

For Alias







“No great mind ever existed without a touch of madness.”
- Aristotle



You know the thing about stories that start with someone all bloodied up lying somewhere? There’s usually more to come. That’s where they get you. It’s like an ‘R’ rating for a movie. Right out of the gate they draw you in. It sets the bar for you going forward and you’re close to anticipating the next possible horror or act of violence around every single turn. King Doc lies here. His armor beaten. His Royal Gauntlet tattered. His face bloodied and burned. But that renowned, hated grin never leaves his face.

When King Doc reached the mountain top, something took over him. The light finally reached him and he, for once, embraced it. Stronger than ever, the King took the fight to all that opposed him on his journey and succeeded in becoming King of the XWF once again. When the light took him, he felt light as a feather, like he was part of the light itself, and in what felt like a couple seconds King Doc woke up naked in a bathtub of ice surrounded by members of the Brotherhood of Baddies in what was one of their safehouses.

Realizing what he had done (accomplished), he used the Royal Gauntlet to change the environment in a way that suited him a bit more. The members of BoB were none the wiser and when they all found themselves sitting around a long, wooden table in a grand hall within the stone walls of a castle, they thought nothing of it.

Que sera, sera.

After an unexpected, lethal siege on King Doc’s castle, the Royal Regime were forced to flee. They scattered in different directions after the King assured them that he would find them or give them direction when the time was right.

The attack meant nothing to King Doc except a good reason to relocate. He did not take much kindly to the condition or location of the BoB Safehouse he literally fell into anyway. So, if you would dare, you could say that it was all a blessing in disguise. It didn’t take him long to figure it out either. Regardless of his situations in the past, there’s always been one place he could rely on. One place to go where he was welcomed.









Maria’s Recovered Journal: Part One

It’s been absolutely wonderful having M around all of this time, but I can sense that he grows tired of not doing the thing he loves most. The travel. The performances. He lived for it for so long that I can understand if he may feel without a place now, even if he is home. His recovery has not gone as originally planned, or at least how we had all hoped it would, but that hasn’t stopped him from training almost daily in anticipation of him being cleared again. All of this has not stopped him from being there for me. The weather has been beautiful and we’ve taken advantage of it. I dream of a day when he will finally put this life behind him once and for all and we can live our days out together never worrying about injuries, schedules, and the other high demands that come in this business that he loves so much.



The Mansion of Mastermind
New Zealand
Daytime


Dark clouds hovered over the Mansion of Mastermind this day. Over the last couple of days, unusual weather changes have occurred on the island. It’s been cold for these parts and even the expert meteorologists can’ts explain the change. No drastic changes, by any means, but enough for people to take notice and grab a parka.

Regardless, everything is still just as it would be. Mastermind rose out of bed every morning, at the same time, went through the exact same routine, and ended up in his home gym before the day truly began. He worked so hard day in and day out to condition himself and make himself ready for his return to the XWF. His persistence almost became a hindrance as there were times it would take over and his body could not keep up and more set-backs and frustrations would set in. He tried his hardest, but sometimes he just couldn’t shake a dreadful feeling.

As this cold front came in, Maria noticed a change in Mastermind’s attitude. Not just towards her, but everything. His workouts became shorter and eventually less of a priority. His words and time with her became shorter and lost value. The man she knew and loved was fading away. It couldn’t have been just the injury. Something else was going on that she just couldn’t put her finger on.

The trees began dying. While snow isn’t unheard of in New Zealand, we’re a couple months off from the possibility of it. On this brisk afternoon, where Mastermind and his Maria sit quietly together in the den, there is a quiet, yet persistent, knock at the front door. Mastermind sighs at the unannounced ruckus.


Maria’s Recovered Journal: Part Two

Some days are longer than others; especially when M’s frustrations take hold of him. Of course he means well, all the time, but he can be so impatient. He pushes himself too hard sometimes an---- (..........INDECIPHERABLE……….TEXT……….) (..........INDECIPHERABLE……….TEXT……….)(..........INDECIPHERABLE……….TEXT……….)(..........INDECIPHERABLE……….TEXT……….)(..........INDECIPHERABLE……….TEXT……….)(..........INDECIPHERABLE……….TEXT……….) --hope he doesn’t do anything foolish. When he’s like this he has a tend-- (..........INDECIPHERABLE……….TEXT……….) --desperat-- (..........INDECIPHERABLE……….TEXT……….) --days have gotten colder…. And so has he. I-- (..........INDECIPHERABLE……….TEXT……….)

TORN PAGE



Nevermind that, M. I’ll get it.

Maria pats Mastermind on the knee as she passes and heads for the door. She peeks through the peephole and sees nothing. She shrugs to herself and begins to walk away before there is another soft knock at the door.

What is it, Maria?

Maria peeks through the peephole once more and again sees nothing. She stands for a moment before a loud knock nearly scares her out of her shoes. When she shrieks Mastermind is by her side in an instant which startles her as well.

I said, what is it?

She steps aside as Mastermind reaches past her towards the door and pulls the door open. The sight in the doorway makes her go pale and twists her stomach.

Why, hello, my old friend!

Maria went to speak, but the words stopped in her throat and she almost choked. Mastermind puffs his chest and repositions himself to look bigger in the doorway.

You are unwelcome here, Doctor.

King Doc stands in the doorway, his gold armor and gauntlet shimmering even on the darkest of days. A thunderous boom creeps across the sky accompanied by a steady, humming rain. King Doc bounces his eyebrows and offers a smile with his intrusion.

Oh come now. We have much to catch up on! I know you’ve been just dying to be a part of it all and get a taste of the action. Maybe offer an old friend a bit of shelter from the rain and we talk about it?

Mastermind’s eyes narrow and he grumbles to himself as Maria wraps a hand around his wrist.

You offer nothing I want OR need. Leave this place at once.

King Doc chuckles to himself and strokes a hand through his long, white beard. He smiles

I don’t believe you.

Mastermind’s gaze veers to the ground and Maria’s grip on his wrist tightens. He pulls away from her and looks back to the shiny man in his doorway.

You have five minutes, Doc.

King Doc’s smile grows.

It’s King Doc now.


Maria’s Recovered Journal: Part Three

We had a surprise visit today. When I say surprise, I mean we weren’t expecting it AND I was shocked that M even entertained it. Any attempts at a visit from someone lately have been dismissed immediately. He refused anyone’s company and it did not matter who it was. Until today. It was that sinister Doctor D’Ville that was lightly knocking at our door this afternoon. Someone we have not seen or heard from since he and M had their last bout in September…. Wasn’t long enough if you ask me. I would have been happy for the rest of my life never seeing him again. Something seemed different this time, but I didn’t care. I do not and I have never trusted this…. man. If that’s even what he is. I’ve seen monsters with more humanity than this him to be perfectly honest. M refused him at first, but, just like before, the doctor somehow convinced M to lend him his time and his ear. I was so frightened and angry…. I couldn’t breathe and I had to leave the room… That and it became unbearably hot....… M didn’t seem to notice.



Mastermind leads the way into the den where the King takes a seat on the sofa across from his hosts.

I’d offer you a drink, KING, but we’re fresh out of rat poison.

King Doc gets a pouty lip and slumps.

That IS my favorite, you know….

Maria chokes on more words and coughs this time. The room is becoming hot, too, and she begins to sweat.

Are you feeling alright, Maria?

Maria coughs some more and springs up from the couch. Mastermind rises with her, but she darts out of the room.

What’s got her all choked up?

That wins King Doc a glare from Mastermind before he takes a seat again.

Make this quick.







Maria’s Recovered Journal: Part Five

Things changed after the visit. I can’t explain it, they were just different. I had mentioned how it was like M changed with the weather…. But I’m beginning to think there’s forces--- (..........INDECIPHERABLE……….TEXT……….) (..........INDECIPHERABLE……….TEXT……….)(..........INDECIPHERABLE……….TEXT……….) ---strange things that I can’t explain. M tells me it’s my imagination or I’m just angry with him regarding his---- (..........INDECIPHERABLE……….TEXT……….) --not him. It’s just not something he would say to m-- (..........INDECIPHERABLE……….TEXT……….)(..........INDECIPHERABLE……….TEXT……….)



Several days have passed since the visit from the doctor. The days have felt shorter, the cold front that blew in remained, and Mastermind continued to spiral into whatever darkness had taken hold of him. Maria took notice, but couldn't bring herself to mention it. Was she afraid? This man living with her, who has held her hand and stood by her side for years, was becoming less and less the man she knew.

She had nightmares all night and every night since the day King Doc showed up at their door. Feelings of dread. Images of horror. Times of being chased. Then restrained. Tortured. More running. Her sleep was sleepless this night just like all the others and after the seventh or eighth time that she woke out of breath, she finally rose up out of bed. Beside her, the space was empty. Mastermind must not have slept either.

M?

She called out into the darkness of the room but gained no response. The M almost got caught in her throat and she noticed the room was hot like the den was earlier. A bead of sweat ran down the side of her head which she wiped away with her left hand (not her right hand) and reached for the small light on the nightstand with the other. She flicked the lamp but no light came from it.

Damn.

She stood up then and began out of the room. As she reached the doorway, the bedroom door slammed shut in front of her. She jumped back and looked around in all directions frantically, but saw nothing in the pitch dark. She hurried over to the door and reached for the handle, but couldn’t find it. She felt all around and couldn’t believe that she couldn’t locate it. It was as if it wasn’t there at all. It was just wood from top to bottom as she felt all around it trying to locate something and someway to get it open. She screamed as she began beating on the door.

Help! Help me, please! M?! Where are you?!

She begins to sob just before the door suddenly becomes ajar. She realizes it and pulls it open and runs out of the room into more darkness in the hallway. She shudders at the sight of it because while the mansion is not small by any means, the hallway which she stands is much longer than it actually is. The narrow narrow accompanied with more doors than the place has rooms goes on for what seems like forever until you reach the stairwell leading you to the top or ground floors. She moves slowly, paying no attention to the apparent extra rooms her home has suddenly acquired. She attempts to speak, but is again stopped by the choking feeling in her throat. It was no use.

It’s so hot…. She thinks to herself.

She kept her eyes ahead and carried with her the dreadful feeling of being watched. About halfway through this long hallway, a door behind her on her left slowly creaked open. She stops and takes a deep breath before slowly turning around. A bright light flickered out into the hallway from inside the room. She took a deep breath, made no attempt to speak, and slowly walked towards the glow. She stood to the side of it for a moment before slowly leaning over and peering in.

SLAM!

The door slams shut in her face! She stumbles and falls back hitting her head hard against the opposite wall. All of the doors except the one across from her swing open and slam shut over and over and over again! She holds her hands over her ears and struggles to her feet before sprinting down the hallway. Upon reaching the stairwell, she heads down skipping the first three steps in a death-defying leap and nearly stumbles the rest of the way down. Trying to scream for Mastermind, she begins to cough uncontrollably on the same ball that’s been stuck in her throat for days.

Weeping and blinded through tears, Maria stumbles through the darkness in a place she starts to not recognize. The house is hot, but the floors are cold on her bare feet. Down the short hallway, she notices a dim light coming from what would be their kitchen. She squeaks out some indecipherable dialogue and makes her way there. When she cuts the corner, she sees a large man bent over in the refrigerator. She freezes at the sight and begins to shiver in fear.

An intruder.

Where is everyone? Where are the housekeepers? Where is M?!

The large man turns around. He’s holding a seven layer sandwich made from anything he could find in there. Fish and chips, crayfish, mutton and roast lamb, and whatever else Kiwis eat… It shimmied back and forth like a tower losing its foundation. He takes a milk carton and chugs the contents until there is no more, crumbles it up, and drops it on the floor. He looks up and notices Maria standing in the doorway sobbing..

Oh, hello.

With all her might, she belts out a scream (no chokey this time), which startles the stranger and his two foot tall sandwich, and bolts for the front door. She struggles with each of the four locks, but manages to get them all. To her relief, once she had the door unlocked she looked back and saw the intruder never bothered to come after her. It confused her as to this man’s agenda, did he break in because he was hungry? She swung open the door to see another large man standing there smoking a fat cigar.

FUCK! Sorry, I think I have the wrong house. Is this….

The stranger outside pulls out his phone and taps around on it with his thumb then shakes his head.

Nope. This is the fucking place, alright. So who the fuck are you?

TK!!

Maria shrieks as the stranger from the kitchen is now standing pretty much on top of her! The 2ft sammich has now been smooshed down to just under a 1ft sammich and half of it is gone. If we didn’t recognize the stranger outside already, the words blurted out of this man’s mouth would have been completely indecipherable.

Calm down, lady! Jesus fucking Christ. I don’t even know what’s going on here. Where’s Doc, Bobby?

Doc’s not here, man.

Bobby Bourbon says with another large mouthful.

WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU PEOPLE?!

Bobby Bourbon finishes off the sandwich, which was still about the size of Maria’s head, in one bite.

Mm! How rude! Maria, I am Bobby Bourbon! This is TK! We are the No Good Bastards. We’re here with Doc. Everything’s coolio.

Maria shrieks again and ducks around Bobby. She takes a couple of steps and runs straight into Mastermind. Bobby Bourbon looks to TK and checks his breath.

Oh M!

She shoves her head into his chest and grasps him.

Where have you been?!

She sobs.

You must come with me, Maria.

What? M.... Who are these people.

Mastermind turns his back to her and walks towards the stairwell. The coldness in Mastermind’s voice sent a cold streak up her spine. Before she knew what was happening she was being drug up the steps by the wrist.

M? M?! What’s going on?!

She tries to pull away, but cannot. Mastermind’s grip on her arm is like a vice and she can’t break it. She holds the rail and with all over her weight pulls away, but nothing stops her from being forced up the steps.

TALK TO ME!

Mastermind does not speak. When they reached the top, the long, dark hallway that Maria passed through earlier was back to the normal second floor that she knew. Then it went dark and switched to the long hallway with all of the doors. Then back to normal. It switched back and forth several times. It finally settled on the normal when he pushed open the door to their bedroom and pulled her inside. She tripped on a rug as Mastermind whipped her across the room and she fell to the ground. With cat-like reflexes, she jumped up and lunged after him.

What is WRONG with you?! What are you thinking?!

She punches his chest with both fists as she sobs. She looks to her left (not her right) and feels her soul (something) rip out of her and she was frozen in place. A large mirror stands across the room from them and it is not Mastermind standing before her through the reflection. She shudders and slowly takes her sight back to the (man) with her in the room.

Hello, my dear.

Tears run down both sides of her face like a river when she goes face to face with King Doc. She sniffles and coughs as she clumsily lets words fall from her mouth.

No, no no, no, no, no, no…..

She’s a mumbler.

Where is M….?


Maria’s Recovered Journal: Part Four

(..........INDECIPHERABLE……….TEXT……….) (..........INDECIPHERABLE……….TEXT……….)(..........INDECIPHERABLE……….TEXT……….) (..........INDECIPHERABLE……….TEXT……….) (..........INDECIPHERABLE……….TEXT……….)(..........INDECIPHERABLE……….TEXT……….) (..........INDECIPHERABLE……….TEXT……….) (..........INDECIPHERABLE……….TEXT……….)(..........INDECIPHERABLE……….TEXT……….)



BURNT PAGE



Maria’s Recovered Journal: Part Seven

This is not my home.



BURNT PAGE








DOWNSTAIRS…


TK and Bobby Bourbon, Them No Good Bastards, lie across the floor in the den playing cards.

What you think they’re fucking doing?

Who?

Mastermind and his woman.

That wasn’t Mastermind.

It sure looked like fucking Mastermind.

Well, it was most def King Doc.

TK snarls and about loses his cards.

For fucking real? Man, he’s fucking weird sometimes.

Bobby Bourbon shovels a spoonful of 98% vegetable oil margarine in his mouth from a tub and TK goes back to the card game then perks up again.

So where the fuck is Mastermind?









Hello, my friends.

What an absolute delight this has been, am I right? Two titans that everyone has been drooooooooling over for the last eight months is finally going head-to-head! What a better time? What a better place? What better event to host witness to the King claiming another prize for his Royal Treasury. The XWF Xtreme Championship! A prize that eludes many and many more thrive for. All for the prize that comes with it in the end. Oh yes. The 24/7 Briefcase. Which is apparently a major key in the inconsistent thoughts, the inconsistent life, the inconsistent story of our current champion. Chaos! Disarray! Mayhem! Oh my!

I’m glad he’s at least noticed the faults in everyone up to this point. Using the same old “Doc this”, “Doc that” stuff is just so played out. He did well, though. Slapping the old cliché button like everyone else is just so easy to do, so why not, right? That’s what it comes down to these days. Everything is the same. Until YOU came along, right? I give the guy credit, he’s trying really hard to not trip and fall while being chased. Not a feral animal, indeed. L-O-L. I guess not. I’ll stick with the mangy mutt that sprung from the pound gig then. The stray.

What?

Am I wrong?

He admits he’s lost here. He has no idea who he is, where he is, what he’s doing, what he’s looking for. Well, I take some of those back. He has no idea who he is, but he knows where he is, and what he is doing is looking for something ((((((answers)))))))))))))))))))) but he’s a little unsure about those questions. Trust me. I’m a doctor. He’s going about this allllllllllllllll wrong. I’m not sure where he’s going about by opening up that mind spread eagle for me like he did. Does he think it’s going to change my approach? I mean, maybe. I could skip the interview and go straight into ripping him limb from limb and offer him something to go with all his hands. Does he think reading everything aloud to me is going to give him an edge? Cause me to trip? Knock me out of place? Make me stumble? He looks back and sees the journey I went on through Thaddeus Duke and must think that the same treatment is for everyone. Maybe that’s what his Angels have had wrong all of this time. Maybe that’s what he’s had wrong all of this time. He’s so desperate for his diagnosis. He’s in so much need for his answers. He claims they’re in there somewhere and maybe, just maybe, the good doctor could perhaps help dig some of those out. Honestly, I’m not really sure what to look for. With the boy, it was easy. I knew what was there and I went after it. He may not be able to see what I see in Duke (see: Corey Smith) and I don’t think we’ll ever meet in the middle either.


Que sera, sera.

See, back then, it was I that was looking for something, my friends. I saw something in the boy that no one else did and eventual failure or not… Again… Was I wrong? We reigned as Tag Team Champions and he most certainly was your Universal Champion until, yes, it got all bungled up.

Doctinuum was great. There’s no denying it. When I rose from the flames that fateful evening with Thaddeus Duke cradled in my arms I knew!


Que sera, sera.

I knew that Cataclysm’s days were numbered. So did Chris Page. So did Robert Main. So did Robert Main’s dog. The only one that wasn’t sure about it was Thaddeus Duke. I’m going to sound like a broken record here, but when I want something. I get it, friends. That Tag Team Championship was mine. It wasn’t about Duke. It was about them. March Madness? It should be fresh enough in everyone’s memories. I told them all the same thing and they all crumbled at my feet. It wasn’t about me. Again, it was about them. Do you think I was going to allow some outsiders claim the throne? I’m just doing my civic duty around here. High Stakes, whether he likes it or not, we came out with a clean slate. It could’ve been a lot, a lot, worse than that. So, you’re welcome. As for right now?

Right here? RIGHT here, fans. THIS is it. He tried so hard right from the start… from the beginning to not fall into the same mess that everyone else ends up in. He did OK. He DID say he might slip up and he DID say that we were just being honest with each other. We covered the accolades, which I really don’t have that many anyway. We mentioned the GOOD OL’ DOC being washed up and out of tune. We avoided that. And of course the part where we talk about how legendary and good I am. It was touched on but more in a “matter of fact” fashion, which I accept. But let’s dig deeper and pry out anything we possibly can, right? Let’s make poor Doc feel bad about someone else’s failures. I can’t blame him. I mean, what else are we supposed to talk about, right? Neither of us have walked away from a fight without getting our hands raised first since August. So what else could this poor pile of shag have to throw this way? The digging and clawing that some people do just to try and get under my skin or maybe, just maybe, catch an upper hand. Hey, “You lost but you didn’t.” “Ya know, those guys over there you’re associated with looked stupid. You didn’t, but you’re associated with them.” It’s kind of like relying on wins and losses right? Presuming victory over someone’s ratio of victories and defeats? Well, let's start off with “Who’s counting?”. I most certainly am not. Why bother, right? Not only is that ratio one sided for me (him), but the dark shadow that I cast across this fine federation carries a much greater bearing than a simple ratio. If you would look back at credentials, accolades, and accomplishments, well, under my belt, you might be surprised to not find all that many. I’m not decorated in the piles of gold that others use to cement their legacies around here. While I have not gone without them they do not define what I am. I do not seek answers within them. I do not need them to find myself and who I truly am.

He apparently does.

He has shown all of us how much he needs this more than I do. I get that. He’s looking for answers. I’m looking to ruin his day.

Picture it. After being forced to take the long way, the hard way, the only way; he hears the call from the mountain just as I did a few short weeks ago. He yearns for the UNIVERSE to fit into his pocket. He fights for control. He thrives for honesty and the truth! And as his doctor…. As KING! His wishes….. Will be granted. Everybody gets one. The fantasy he lives and the dreams he has each day will be fact-checked on May the First when he wakes up after the greatest, most effective treatment he’s ever had. He will open his eyes and have his answers. He will have his path. He will be shown his destiny. He is 100% correct; all of the roads he’s travelled thus far have led him to me. And the road to the top, go through me. That’s something that’s been understood here for a long, long time. Long before he busted out of the mental clink. There's honesty. There’s the truth. Can anyone tell the class how many have actually succeeded and made it through? Here’s some more honesty; not many. See? It’s not impossible, just not probable.

I’ve seen the rat maze inside the brain now. I’ve taken the acid trip (involuntarily) So, now, the question is what am I going to do with all of this? Hmm.

Well! I said it before and he’s been disappointed before…. It’s time to give this fellow a true diagnosis and figure out what’s really going on in there. You know what might do the trick? Perhaps the greatest treatment of all!









































































































Lobotomy.

All of the answers sought for will be found and this poor creature and he can finally go back to... hmm.. I'm not really sure what he did prior to all of this. Maybe we’ll jar his memory or at least give him a bit of peace in his existence through this whole experience. One thing he will know walking away from this is why everyone is making such a big deal out of this match. People wouldn’t be tripping over each other to see it nor would it be headlining Miss Dolly’s little show. I make this main event and I make this match what it is just like I’ve always done. And when the final bell tolls, my friends, as I said, I will give this poor boy exactly what he wants. I will give him a name.


[Image: SbnrAoT.gif]







[Image: MAMxadx.jpg?1]

Maria....

[Image: Kd641BT.png]
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