"Expose yourself to your deepest fear; after that, fear has no power, and the fear of freedom shrinks and vanishes. You are free."

― Jim Morrison

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What a beautiful dungeon . . .


Hello, my friend!

Please, have a seat. We have much to talk about.

The Ex-Detective hesitates as he watches the bunny rabbit leave the room and shut the door.

Now what's this guy's story?

The Ex-Detective thought to himself.

Mister Dedntik?

He looked back at the Doctor with wide eyes.

"How do you know that name? Dead Nick?"

I've been thinking you've been saying that kind of funny. No one really noticed though. Please, like I said, we have much to discuss. Here, allow me to pour us a drink.

The Doctor reached behind his desk and poured two glasses of fine scotch. He turned back around and placed them both on the desk.

The Ex-Detective, of course, hesitated.

"I don't typically drink, buddy. Especially in really weird situations like this one."

Buddy? Ha, ha. Don't drink? Ha, ha! Come now, Trevor, did I seriously damage your memory that much? You've been in the fine XWF organization for how long now? And you don't recognize your King?

FINALLY!

"What?! What are you talking about? Trevor? Is that my name?!"

I promise the answers you seek will come soon enough. First, take the drink. It'll will help relax you a bit. Trust me.

"Why'd that weirdo call you, 'Doc'? What are you? Some kind of Doctor or something?"

Just drink, would you?

The Ex-Detective reaches out and takes the glass from the desk. He takes a sip from it.

Wow. That does taste good. Like... Really good.

The sip turns into a gulp and that same gulp turned into the entire glass being tipped upside down over the Ex-Detective's mouth.

You see?

He slams the glass down on the table.

"Yeah, yeah. How about another?"

The Doctor obliges and refills the glass with more scotch.

"Now, what the fuck is this? Why am I here? And who the hell are you?"

Still no connections, hm? You know, I'm not surprised. I did have an idea that this would be difficult. Why don't you tell me of those strange dreams you've been having?

The Ex-Detective nearly chokes on the glass.

"What's that?"

The dreams, Mister Dedntik. Focus on them for a moment. Can you revisit them at all?

For a guy with a memory that's shot, the Ex-Detective could recall a few of the dreams.

Quote:From - "As I want you to be. . ."

The Ex-Detective waits like a cat waiting to pounce. He looks all around and neither sees nor hears anything. Suddenly, from behind him the Ranger has leaped into the air with another flying kick that hits him in the back of the head. The Ex-Detective lunges forward and lands face first onto the ground. The Ranger stands over him and introduces the situation.

Texas Ranger- Texas Ranger and you're under arrest!

Trevor- Arrested?! Arrested for what?! My car--

The Ex-Detective gets another roundhouse to the face and falls back down.

Texas Ranger- And you have the right to rema----

The Ranger freezes in his statement and is lit up like a Christmas tree. Smoke begins to rise from the top of the Ranger's skull as he stands and shakes uncontrollably. The Ex-Detective looks on as the Ranger falls face forward like a burnt piece of toast.

Doctor D'Ville- Hello, my friend.

The Ex-Detective's eyes shot forward and burnt a hole through the Doctor.

"It's... It's, it's you?!"

The Doctor leans back and chuckles a bit.

And you.

Quote:From - "I'm No Angel"

The Doctor and his patient walk to the small tanned car, the only vehicle in this dusty parking lot, and prepare to leave.[/font]

"So, Lou."

Trevor.

The EX-Detective pulls a cigarette from his inside pocket and lights it.

"What's next, Doc?"

The Doctor produces a sadistic smile and looks over at his patient.

Why, we finish our trip to Glendale. I have a few things to take care of there. Then we continue going to wherever my services need me.

"That's kind of what I mean."

I'm not sure I fellow, my friend.

"Well, why did you save me? Why me?"

The Doctor sits back in the passenger seat and produces a large bottle of scotch from the backseat. He takes a large drink from it and rests it between the two of the.

Allow me to answer your question with a question. Why did you seek me out, Trevor?

"I don't recall doing that."

He's seen those faces what seems like a thousand times now. Could those dreams actually be memories? Could it be that the amnesia finally be wearing off? The Ex-Detective still didn't understand what was going on, but it seemed like he was finally on the right track.

"......."

Trevor, we have a special bond, you and I. A bond that takes us back long before our days in the XWF and your haunting visions. You'll just have to trust me.

"I was in a coma. Why?"

Well, your services weren't currently needed, Mister Dedntik. Like I said, you are very important to me. Let's just say the coma was to preserve your value.

"I was in a coma because of you?!"

Not necessarily. You were very, very sick, my friend. Part of our agreement was to ensure your health and safety. As long as we remain the closest of friends.

"That sounds fucked up, guy."

Not at all! Trust me, it was well worth it.

"Lying half dead for God know's how long doesn't sound like it was very worth it to me. I don't know what you want or why you brought me here, but I want out. I want out now."

The Ex-Detective remained rather calm, even under the extremely uncomfortable circumstances. He's brain was flooded with questions and answers that just didn't make sense. He rose up out of the chair and turned around to face the door, which was no longer there.

"What the fff---..."

Mister Dedntik it's important to have your cooperation, my friend. It will make this so much easier than we can get on with our lives.

If the Ex-Detective only knew.

He sits back down in the chair, as he sees no other place to go.

"I want to know more then."

Ask away.

"Are you the one that left everything at the hospital? And the locker? Are you the one that brought me here to the XWF?"

Well, of course. Not only did I bring you here, but I watched you very closely and guided you as much as I could.

"That fat fucker Tokyo was there for that."

The Doctor smiled and shook his head slightly.

Think about it, Trevor.

The Ex-Detective thinks back, just a week before, meeting with Tokyo in Ohio. But, it wasn't Tokyo. It was the Doctor. Every single time. It's almost like the Ex-Detective just didn't see faces.

He leaned over in the chair holding the sides of his head to keep his mind from blowing. Closing his eyes as tightly as he could he began to rock back and forth.

Relax, relax. None of this matters, Trevor. Everything will come together shortly. I have something very special in store for you, my friend. Followed by a simple favor.

"What kind of favor?"

The Doctor grins and reaches in the desk. He pulls out a photograph and lies it on the desk.



"Is that Vinnie Lane?"

Very good! Do you know WHO Vinnie Lane is, however?

"Well, not really. He was booked a lot. More than me, anyway."

Mister Loverboy and I go back quite far, Trevor. It's very important that you remember everything you learn about this gentleman in the next week.

"What's so important about him?"

The Doctor's grin slowly faded away and his voice turned into a growl.

Everything.

Mister Lane has been flying high for quite some time now. He's been on a streak like no other. Well, like most others. I remember the first time the Loverboy and the Doctor went face to face. There was a similar 'streak' of victories at hand just before that session, wasn't there Mister Lane? The Doctor wasn't the one to put an end to it, but he was the finishing touches to ensure everyone in the world that "Loverboy" Vinnie Lane is indeed easily within reach. He is easily cast aside. And can be easily forgotten about. Other than a few twenty-four seven pins and a little house show, the Doctor was the first one to ever pin the Loverboy. Fancy that?

The next nine months or so the Doctor and Loverboy really haven't been in much contact. There was a successful Federweight Title defense against the Doctor in there, which I'm sure boosted the Loverboy's confidence to new heights. After all, beating the Doctor in any type of fashion makes headlines. It makes history, my friend. And there isn't too many people you can ask about that. So, during that time the Loverboy has claimed that this entire time he's been preparing for another meeting with the Good Doctor. Well, little did he know that you and I have been preparing for him as well, Mister Dedntik.

"We have?"

Indeed! Do you think that I would just sit idly by and watch all of the lower talent of the XWF continue to grow and grow to new heights? He talks as if he's the only one with the Doctor on his mind. He acts like he's the only one that owes me one. You may have a list a mile long of different gentlemen that you've beaten, Mister Lane. None of those really seem to relevant right now. None of them matter. Who cares that you defeated Theo Pryce. Who cares that you've beaten Gator, or Luca Arzegotti, or anyone else. The only person in your long list of opponents that matters, is me. If you look down your list of matches, the one that sticks out the most to you right now is the one that dates back to September the 22nd.

"What happened then?"

Mister Loverboy and I had our first session, of course! Half a year in the making, my friend. And as he explained, he's been waiting for this moment. He's been training everyday since THE day he fell to the Doctor. You think you're that much stronger, Mister Lane? Not only have you been training your little balls off, but you've been in situations and matches that have certainly jeopardized your career. It may not seem like it now, but if you keep this up you're going to be crippled within the next ten years. Those two little hunny-bunnies that you surround yourself with won't have any use for a broken old man. Your semi love triangle should NOT be your main focus right now, Mister Lane. I'm not sure what these lovelies are trying to do to you here, but they're certainly not helping you. It seems like if you're not sleeping you're being jerked off and if you're not being jerked off you're making wedding plans. Well, fake wedding plans. Which is an even bigger waste of time. Why don't you tell those two stupid whores that you have much larger things at hand right now and their stupid little problems can wait a week until the Doctor breaks you in half and throws you back into the medical waste bag you crawled from.

I thought Mister Mastermind had strange focal points when it came to his matches at times. He'd request a session with the Doctor at the oddest times, as well. Whether Mastermind was in in his 'good' or 'bad' mood, he would always stay quite focused on his opponents. While Mister Lane now, is going to be sitting on a couch making fake wedding plans, with his fake boobed-fake wife and fake boobed-real wife.

It's a shame that it is this way, my friend. You're falling right down the path that so many others have. Drugs. Drinking. Sex. Disease. Death. It's all coming together, Mister Loverboy. Much like the dead musicians of the past. If we don't find you dead in a bathtub with a tourniquet around your arm, we'll find you face down in a pillow numb from the head down. You're going to wrestle and destroy your body until you can't walk anymore. Your knees are going to be so shot that you're going to take pain killers day in and day out just to somewhat slightly ease the pain. Do you think it's really love that this woman is after, Mister Lane? Or do you think she can just see your impending death and wants to milk you for everything you have. You live a glamorous lifestyle in Malibu, my friend. The beach, the sun, the ladies. Glamorous. Do you think Miss Roxy will have any trouble finding another jukebox hero to fill your slot once your gone? I'm curious to find out. I'm sure she won't. I'm sure the day after your funeral, Mister Lane, she'll be shacked up with a newer model. A healthy, young buck like you once were.

The Doctor peers down to his watch.

I believe we'll be having some company here soon, my friend.

There is still a lot for you to remember before we move on, of course. I've also had a plan to help hurry that along, as well.

"Something to help jog my memory?"

You could say that.

Quote:From - "Friends Forever"

"Why me?"

The Doctor smiles after he lights up a cigar.

Even I can't control destiny, my friend. I can only influence it.

"So you didn't choose me? Fate did?"

As I just said, I can only influence the outcome. You didn't have to agree to come with me, Trevor. You chose me.

"But you were saving my life. You saved my life."

The Doctor rises up from the chair and lights a cigar. The Ex-Detective remains in disbelief that everything is coming together the way they are. His career in the XWF was just a hoax it seems. It could have never happened and it would never matter. Three different matches that could quite possibly have shortened the Ex-Detective's life. Then again, after slowly learning that he hasn't exactly been the ideal role model for good health, that doesn't even really matter. Nothing seems to matter.

It seems he's still in wait to find out his true purpose and what's actually behind the Doctor's madness. This obviously dates back a little bit...

Suddenly, the large wooden door swings open and slams against the wall. It startles the Ex-Detective and he swings around in the chair. Apparently his exit reappeared, but he had no intention of walking away now. A bit overwhelmed by the thoughts and feelings that have taken over his head here in the last few minutes, the Ex-Detective walks across the room and rests his head against the wall. A large crate is then shoved into the room and the large wooden door was shut again.

"What's with the crate?"

The Ex-Detective begain to slowly approach the large crate. He was so skiddish you would have thought something was going to jump out of it.

Open it and find out.

"You play some pretty weird fucking games, guy."

He reaches down and feels around the top of the crate. There were two nails around every corner and a few down each side sealing the crate shut and whatever was inside. As the Ex-Detective turns around, the Doctor has already tossed a crowbar. He manages to catch it at the very last second, otherwise it would have hit him square in the face. He reaches down with the tool and begins to pry each corner apart. After the lid is removed, the Ex-Detective fishes with his hands around some straw and pulls out something large and covered with a cloth.

"What is this?"

He stands it up and removes the curtain from over top of it. It's the Mirror of Mastermind that the Doctor stole from the Mansion a few weeks back.

"A mirror?"

The Doctor smiles as he walks around and avoids the front of the mirror.

Not just any mirror my friend. This mirror is special.

"How can a mirror be special? Is this like a magic mirror? Mirror, mirror, on the wall?"

The Ex-Detective's sarcasm had no effect on the Doctor. He ignored the Ex-Detective's comments and continued to exam the back of the mirror.

Now, I'm not exactly sure how this worked last time . . . So we'll just have to try our luck and see what happens!

"What? What do you mean? What are we trying?"

Have a seat, Trevor. I want you to look at yourself in the mirror. Tell me what you see.

The Ex-Detective cocks an eyebrow up and looks at the Doctor.

"Is this some kind of therapy you've come up with to help with--"

Please don't interrupt the process, my friend. All of your questions will be answered shortly. You're just going to have to trust me.

The Ex-Detective is even more confused now. He sits back in the chair and relaxes a bit with a big 'sigh'. He looks up at his own reflection.

Is that me?

The Ex-Detective thought to himself and his face showed it.

You look as if you don't recognize your own reflection, Mister Dedntik.

"Why is that, Doctor?"

Well, you haven't felt like yourself lately have you?

"Not at all."

I think there's a little piece of you missing. And I think he knows where it is.

"What is the point of all of this? I could have just woken up from that coma and never been bothered again and nothing would have happened. Why have you brought me here? Why did you involve me in this?! What is going on?"

I grow tired of all of the questions, Trevor. You've always been good for that. Question after question. Always asking why. I've lured you back to me, Trevor, because I have one last favor to ask of you.

".........."

One last little deed and your services will no longer be needed. This is what everything comes down to, Mister Dedntik. The reason for our meeting. The reason behind our partnership.

"What's this favor, then?"

I want you to assassinate Vinnie Lane.

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