10-02-2013, 06:05 PM
Saturday, September 28, 2013 – 12:45 PM EST – The Compound – Old Saybrook, Connecticut
I steer my Suburban up the long winding driveway and come to a stop just outside the garage. I take my time entering the Compound as I place John Madison's my crown onto my head. The services will just be letting out and I'm not really in the mood for a million fucking questions as soon as I walk in the door. I do have some business to attend to though, so as much as I don't want to, I must go in.
After entering, I'm surprised to see the main corridor empty and desolate. I almost expected to see tumbleweed crossing the hall, but I guess that only happens in movies. I hear foot steps coming down the stairway that leads to the living quarters on the second floor.
Much to my surprise, its a black man. I didn't even know I had a black man within my Brotherhood of the Illuminatus. Obviously a nobody. I toss my bags to him and as expected, he makes his way back upstairs with my bags in his hands. I continue down the hall and make a right turn into my office. My Messenger, Jacob sits in front of the desk and Matthew stands near my glass trophy cabinet.
Inside the cabinet, my various titles that I've won in the XWF. The Xtreme title I stole from some nobody. The same one that I was screwed out of by that mindless drone, Tyrone. Then, my North Korean title that I held for all of a couple of minutes. My United States title that I won when I defeated Mark Flynn and effectively ruined his career. Of course, my Tag Team title lives their also. At the top, my 'crowning' achievement.
I walk behind Matthew and open up the case and gently set down John Madison's my King of the XWF crown before closing the door and turning to look at Jacob.
THE MESSENGER: “So, you wanna talk about it?”
SEBASTIAN DUKE: “About what?”
THE MESSENGER: “The loss to Mystica? The match itself?”
SEBASTIAN DUKE: “What is there to talk about?”
I turn to look at Matthew as he interrupts.
MATTHEW: “Losing so close to the biggest match of your life? It doesn't bode well for your chances against John Mad...”
In a fit of anger, I grab Matthew by the throat and slam him into my glass trophy cabinet, smashing the glass into hundred of razor sharp pieces.
SEBASTIAN DUKE: “My loss to Mystica proves nothing more then him being an even bigger pussy then we all thought! This match meant nothing! The only thing that scrawny little psychopath proved is that he can escape a cage faster then I can!
“John Madison is mine! I will make that little runt squeal like a fucking pig! Understood!?”
I see the fear in his eyes and I can almost see the reflection of the fire in my eyes, in his as he nods his head.
SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Good!”
I pat him on the cheek a few times. The last, more a smack than a pat, before releasing my grip. Matthew falls to the floor and lands on both hands and knees as he gasps for air, catching his breath. I sit at my desk and look up at John Madison's my crown.
THE MESSENGER: “Now that the pleasant greetings are out of the way, we have to talk.”
SEBASTIAN DUKE: “About what?”
THE MESSENGER: “A couple of things, actually.”
SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Let's get to it then. I don't have all day.”
THE MESSENGER: “Actually, you have a lot of time. You don't have another match until you challenge John Madison for his crown.”
Almost right on cue, I stand from my chair and step over Matthew, who still sits on the floor. I retrieve the crown from its case and place it back upon my head.
SEBASTIAN DUKE: “You wanna repeat what you said?”
THE MESSENGER: “What I said was, you have plenty of time. You don't have another match until Jon Madison challenges you for your crown.”
SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Yeah, I guess you're right. Still, let's get it over with.”
THE MESSENGER: “First thing, Caitlyn.”
SEBASTIAN DUKE: “What about her?”
THE MESSENGER: “She's pregnant.”
SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Yeah, I kinda know that already.”
THE MESSENGER: “What do you plan to do about it? Her family is Catholic. She's going to demand that little Baby Duke is raised Catholic. And you know as well as I do, Father Asmodeus would never stand for it. I mean, YOU would never stand for it.”
SEBASTIAN DUKE: “I'll let her raise him Catholic. Then, I'll have Dad work his magic.”
THE MESSENGER: “I don't think it's that simple. She can never come here. How do you propose we do that? At some point, she's going to want to know where you live. See how you live. Meet your family. How do you expect to explain 200 men attending services with a priest named after one of Satans Demons?”
Fuck! Good point.
SEBASTIAN DUKE: “What exactly do you expect me to do?”
THE MESSENGER: “Urge her to abort.”
SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Are you brain dead? I mean, are you completely out of your mind? Like you said, they're Catholic. Abortion is a big time sin in their minds!”
MATTHEW: “I have a possible solution.”
I really am not in the mood to hear this fucker. But, at this point, I'll listen to just about any suggestion.
SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Let's hear it.”
MATTHEW: “We orchestrate a kidnapping.”
THE MESSENGER: “Are you completely fucking crazy!?”
SEBASTIAN DUKE: “I'm listening.”
THE MESSENGER: “What!?!”
MATTHEW: “Jake, hear me out. Sebastian calls her up and wants to have some romantic night out on the beach before the winter weather rolls in. Felipe hides out. He attacks them both, then kidnaps her. Blindfolds her. Then brings her here.”
SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Wait, wait, wait. There's one thing I need to know. Who the hell is Felipe?”
THE MESSENGER: “For Hell's sake! He's one of the Brothers!”
SEBASTIAN DUKE: “There's a Felipe here?”
MATTHEW: “He's a black man. Actually, he's the only black Brother we have.”
SEBASTIAN DUKE: “FUCK!”
THE MESSENGER: “What?”
MATTHEW: “That's who I threw my bags to when I walked in earlier.”
THE MESSENGER: “Yeah, anyway. Kidnapping Caitlyn. Not going to happen.”
MATTHEW: “It's the only...”
SEBASTIAN DUKE: “No, he's right. It's not happening. At least not yet.”
THE MESSENGER: “What the hell do you mean 'not yet!?'”
SEBASTIAN DUKE: “I want some time to convince her to see things my way.”
MATTHEW: “And if she doesn't?”
It was a totally fair question. One that deserved an answer, just not yet.
SEBASTIAN DUKE: “I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
THE MESSENGER: “The other thing is, we've found our next target.”
I lean back and smile. Thus is good news. It's time the Angel of Darkness got his hands dirty.