Once again, I have the situation well in hand and along comes someone to ruin it. That's typical. But I will not lower myself to complaining. I will make no excuses. If it'd not been for me, Aidan Collins wouldn't have had his hand raised that night. But I digress from my stating of facts. Because that is exactly what they are. Facts. The facts are a funny thing, really. When said facts work in your favor, you are golden. You walk around with your head held high like you just fucked the preacher's virginal daughter and slash or son, and your name is Frodo Swaggins. Props. But anyway, if said facts are against you, then you walk around like you've just gotten your ass whipped by a fucking eight year old. Peter Gilmour.

Peter fucking Gilmour went into a match Wednesday he had no business in the first place to participate in, which made me do something I do not often do. Agree with Tommy Gunn. Don't get used to that, because it's not a common occurrence. Gilmour is not a threat to me headed into the Universal Title picture, however his relevance is there. He is one of those contenders. One of those lucky few deemed worthy enough to main event in a four way for that championship I so richly desire. I guess he has his good points, though it makes me sick to admit such. The man's done more in this company than I have so far, but there are two things he has done that I will never....E-E-E-eveerrrrrr do, and that's one, get fucked by Frodo and two get fucked up by a little eight year old boy. As far as what I can...no...WILL do, I will scratch and claw my way past "his highness" and become the NEW universal Champion; and you best trust and fucking believe that once that happens, this will be MY yard.

Eli James is next on the list of so-called "contenders", and honestly I must say that he is far more deserving than Gilmour. What? Did I fucking stutter? I like the guy. I respect him. No homo. Just let me say that with the exception of Shades himself, Eli is the only one with a right to be in the match. Why? Because he's the former champion. He's the guy who lost the title, to an oopportunist, and of course he gets a rematch clause. Yes, I am quite certain he would rather it be a one on one battle, preferably not involving yours truly, but sometimes you just don't get what you want. Sometimes you have to roll with the punches, and I hope...no, pray that by the time this match happens he dislodges his dick from the holy bible and brings his all. Unlike some people, I LOVE a challenge.

Unlike our joke of a champion. "Shades". Pft. Like I said, he's an opportunist and with many situations, opportunities stem from luck. The ONLY reason he should be in the upcoming match is so that I can give him a demonic ass whipping and take his fucking belt. Believe that.

But this isn't about Shades.

It isn't about Eli James either.

Damned sure isn't about Gilmour.

Let's not look past the man I have to beat to even qualify for the match. The man I should have beaten at Warfare, who got one over on the Cainster. Let's talk about you, Aidan Collins. You like that, don't you? This may be the pot calling the kettle black, but from what I see, from where I stand...you are an overrated, narcissistic son of a bitch. I'm quite positive that you've never encountered a mirror that you didn't like. But you see, Mister Collins, no matter how much you enjoy yourself there will always be that one person who hates you. That one person who wants to smash your face through that mirror, and leave you in a bloody mess on the floor. Do you think my fangs are fake? Fine. Think what you will. Debunk my claims of who I am. Do it all day, while you sit there looking like a reject from an Herbal Essences commercial, .

Because when you disbelieve the legend of Cain, you leave me no choice. You back me into a corner. When I get backed into a corner, I prove exactly how dangerous I truly am. I...

Suddenly, the feed goes black.

---

Darkness. Cold. It was always like this in the night. The prison was unliveable for most humans. Most men didn't make it out alive. But we all know that Cain wasn't most men. No. He was a monster. Born that way. The darkness was home to a man such as himself. He thrived on the unknown. Not everyone in the present day agrees with his legend. They don't believe it, but it all happened. He laid there on the cold stone floor, starving and powerless. He wanted to plan a grand escape, but of course the Shackles of Hades had rendered him harmless. Not even he could figure his way out of this one. The old man didn't help matters when he spoke crypticly of an unseen, unknown benefactor. It's not who we think it is either. Trust me.

Meanwhile, high above the dungeon, in the ivory towers that royalty so readily his themselves in, The Emperor laid in bed next to his wife, Atlanta. They had just finished a rousing romp, their hair messed up and breathing labored. The blonde turned to her husband and asked. "How much longer?"

The Emperor narrowed his eyes, confused. "Until what, darling?"

She frowned. "How much longer until you stop treating that poor man like a creature? He's a human being, you know."

Needless to say, The Emperor wasn't pleased with what he'd heard from his very own wife. For in his mind, this so-called human being was an animal. He was a monster, and deserved to be treated as such. He sat up in the bed and grabbed his wine flagon, taking a long swig. Then he offered his wife some. "Want some, dear? Only the finest red wine for my queen."

"So that's it? You're just going to change the subject?"

"Yes, I am. Because as far as I am concerned, this is a non issue. That Beast down there in that cell is the lowest of the low. He is garbage. His only redeeming quality is that he entertains the people, which lines my coffers. As my wife, he SHOULD be a non issue for you as well. I'll hear nothing more of it. End of discussion."

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, husband." You would think "that's that". After all, a woman was in no position to argue with a man in that day and age. But Atlanta was a strong willed follower of Athena, as like I said, the particular family still worshiped the pagan Gods. So you might say that she was quite empowered. As she tried to sleep, she couldn't help thinking of the poor man in the basement, laid up in a corner in those terrible shackles. This woman actually had a heart.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

"Great. A leak." Now we join Cain again, who looked up at the ceiling with a scowl. Leaks were annoying. Especially to someone who just wanted to sleep. "Guard! Guard! There's a fucking leak in my cell!"

Max just kept on sawing longs. Snoring incredibly loud. Cain grumbled and leaned back against the wall, mumbling curses under his breath. The Old Priest in the next cell just sighed. ""They don't care, my child. Don't you understand? He probably heard you, but what does it matter? They think they're better than you."

---

Feed comes back in from static.

...when I am backed into a corner, Aidan, I bite. You people, you back me into a corner by calling me a fake and a fraud. You force me to do the one thing that I do best, and that is murder. The reason behind your disbelief? Well, you're just like a fucking Roman Guardsman I once knew. Thought he was better than me. As did his superiors. I KNOW you think you're better than me, because of your credentials. But what you fail to realize is that when you and I step into the ring, then I will add a win over you to MY credentials. Your name will be on MY resume. I...

Your internet connection must be corrupted. Either that, or the pure evil aura of Cain is causing your monitor to go batshit crazy. Once more, we are whisked into the past of Cain.

---

Cain growled at the old man. "These Romans make me sick."

"They do not even worship the correct Gods. They worship the Greek Pantheon. They're idiots."

"Err...are you not a follower of a Greek God?"

"Yes, my son. But I am also not Roman. I am African."

"Okay...I don't understand. Are these men and women even Roman? Is that man even sane?"

The old man smirked. "Ah, so you are beginning to understand. That man and his guards...they are not actually who they appear to be."

"Then who the hells are they?"

"With the exception of the queen? Can't tell you, yet."

"You jest. Right?"

The old man chuckled at the young warrior. "No jest, my friend. But as I have said, there are some looking out for you. But there are some who also do not wish for you to ever be freed. High ranking people. Or deities."

"Gods? Roman or Greek?"

"Hmmm. Neither."

"Then who old man?!"

Just then. "HEY! QUIET OLD MAN!" Max had awakened from his nap, which wouldn't have ended had there been no yelling. The old man slinked back into the shadows as the guard clinked his sword against the cell doors. "One more word from you, old man, and you're dead. Do you understand?! You are NOT permitted to speak to Romulus anymore!"

Cain/Romulus sighed, as once again his search for answers had been stopped short. This was all so confusing to him. How had he ended up here? He remembered the slave trader incident, and an incident with some Germans. But it all seemingly blurred together. Exhausted as he was, he drifted off to sleep. After all, what else could he do in this situation? It was almost like a dream.

Meanwhile, the Queen sat up slowly in bed, looking over at her slumbering husband. She stood up, and tiptoed out of the room. She too was confused. For the last thing she remembered before her marriage, was her Hispanic looking Roman husband saving her from....zombies? Strangeness was afoot.

---

Holy shit. So your monitor goes back to Cain right as he finishes a statement.

...have been mind fucked my whole life, by mortal and God alike. But Aidan, trust me when I tell you this. Understand how badly I want into that match. I would KILL for that belt. This is not a dream, Collins. This is NOT an illusion. This is the baddest mother fucker ever to exist and this Wednesday? You're going to understand why. Then, when I beat you, I am going onto that title match and the next thing you hear the announcer say will be...

"Your winner, by referee stoppage... And the NEW UNIVERSAL CHAMPION....Cain Arkham!

But you'll be hearing that part about referee stoppage soon enough. Right? You know it.

-Static-

The awesome banner was brought to you by Morbid Fuckin Angel.