---

In the dead of night, what some might call the bewitching hour, Nathaniel Idenhaus and Sasha Isles were both in bed and very near slumber, after making the move to New York. The day had been hectic, what with all the unpacking and arranging but now, within the quiet, dark, stillness of their room, Nathaniel was perfectly content. A feeling that he hadn't felt in a very long time.


"Nathan? Are you asleep?"


Well... so much for sleep.


"No, I just tend to pull off the role of someone that's asleep, especially when I lay motionless with a look of peaceful, tranquility on my face, in a bed, with my eyes closed."


He softly chuckled.


"What's up? Is everything okay?"


"Yeah..."


Pause.


"Except..."


Silence. Several seconds passed. What's going on here? Nathaniel didn't know, Sasha simply stopped talking. Sighing, Nathaniel opened his eyes and turned his attention to Sasha, only to see that she was biting her bottom lip and wearing an expression of concern. That was when he realized, slumber would be nowhere in his near future, unless he did his best to get her to reveal whatever was bothering her.


"Except?"


Sasha raised her focus and met Nathaniel's gaze.


"No, it's nothing."


"Come on. Tell me."


"No, it's stupid. Plus, you were clearly sleeping or damn near falling asleep and I don't want to keep you awake with my nonsense, when you start a new job tomorrow."


"Yeah, but you start a new job too and if I'm recalling correctly, you clock in considerably earlier than I do, therefore you should probably tell me what's troubling you and allow yourself some peace of mind and rest."


"It's not necessarily troubling me, the topic is merely on my mind, that's all."


"Okay. Regardless of what the status on the matter happens to be, it's keeping you awake and since I'm not sleeping either, we may as well talk about it."


Once again, silence returned but this time, Sasha seemed to be weighing things over in her mind and ended it, all on her own, without any outside aid.


"Alright, it's like this... you know how I got the job at Maimonides Medical Center?"


"Yeah and I think it's great. I'm proud of you."


"Right but there was only one space open on their surgical staff."


"So, what's your point?"


"You didn't go for the job. Why didn't you go for the job? What? Did you like purposefully avoid it, so I would get it or some shit?"


"Nooooooo...."


Nervous burst of laughter.


"I didn't apply for the position because... I didn't think it would be a good fit. For me."


"Bullshit. You love being a surgeon, you've done it for years and you're amazing at it, there's no way that you up and suddenly decided to stop. Right when we move and the best hospital in Brooklyn has a slot open on their surgical team. Just admit that you didn't submit your résumé as a favor for me. You knew with your experience and perfect surgical record, with its zero kill ratio, would blow them away and as soon as they seen your résumé, no other application would even be considered. The stack would go directly into the trash and you'd be the one waking up at 7am to start your shift at the hospital. Just admit it and come clean. You didn't bother to apply because you were afraid I'd freak, if you were hired over me and you thought things would get weird between us after that and you didn't want that, so you did nothing and let me have the job. "


More laughter, this time it was not nervous though. Nothing but plain ol' regular laughter.


"Fine."


Nathaniel fired up a cigarette to compose himself and took a drag.


"I avoided the job on purpose but I did it to be nice, not for whatever crazy reason you concocted. I knew you would want it and I wanted you to have it. It's not a big deal, I mean it was your qualifications and experience that got you the job, over everyone else. You were still the most deserving applicant. The fact that I didn't go for the position, shouldn't taint that accomplishment. Besides, this gives me the opportunity to work with the police, again."


"By examining corpses and determining their death."


"Hey, look at that and there's still surgery involved too, only now I don't have the burden of dealing with talking to patients. I don't have to discuss anything with the corpse beforehand and I certainly don't need to meet with the cadaver afterwards. I can roll through the whole process, from start to finish and be done with it all. It's also a career that I had before... with the exception that now, I'll get the chance to work with... friends, for the most part. At some capacity, anyway. Look, bottom line, I'm fine with where I'm working and I am over the moon, that you're employed as a surgeon at Maimonides Medical Center."


"Really?"


"Absolutely, a million times over, yes and I have a good feeling about all of this... not just our careers but the relocation, living together and everything that comes our way, from here on out. All of it. Life in general. Tomorrow is the start of all things to come and I think it's going to be an exceptional day. The first of many. Of this I am certain."

---

Walking straight into Snappy's Snack Shack, Nathaniel was greeted by a gas station convenient shop, converted into a mini house of horrors. With blood splattered everywhere and body parts and organs, strewn all about. Only this hadn't been done for Halloween. This was for real and the place reeked of the inside of a slaughterhouse. With the exception that it was humans that had been brutally butchered. Which didn't phase Nathaniel all that much, given his history but since he was surrounded by an abundant amount of law enforcement, it gave him a cause for pause and a solid reason to feign shock. He even threw in a little appall as well. For good measure. And that's when it hit him, like a tidal wave carrying a ton of bricks and those bricks, were filled with a noxious odor most foul. It was the smell of death. But this wasn't the same as the scent of the dead that he had encountered before.


Even after taking on the wolf curse and all his senses became overly enhanced, never was he hit by it this concentrated. It was like a punch to the gut, so hard that it made him gag and he immediately felt the urge to retch. Fighting off the impulse to regurgitate the entirety of his stomach contents and then some, while simultaneously being bombarded with an intense stank of decomposition and severe rot. So powerfully pungent... he could practically feel the maggots crawling on his own skin, Nathaniel took a brief look around and exited the shop.


Outside, he fired up a cigarette, took a long pull and slowly allowed the smoke to filter out of his nose, in an effort to remove some of the odor. Woefully, it was done in vain, for nothing covered up the perfume of decaying corpses, that could compare to those that had been left to break down in a well for awhile, hitherto their removal. Times 1,000. Desperately, he tried to compose himself and gather his bearings, to no avail. What a better time could there possibly have been for someone to approach him and start asking questions? With another drag from his coffin nail, Nathaniel sighed and devoted all his attention to the individual requesting information from him.


This act naturally caused every single detective and uniformed police officer, to form a group in front of Nathaniel. It was a nightmare, yet Nathaniel did his best to fake his way through explaining things about a crime scene, he couldn't fully examine, from a medical perspective. All the while, praying he didn't pass out, in the process. The whole ordeal seemed to last an eternity and when it ended, he had no idea what he had said, all he knew was that there was no one standing in front of him now and for that, he was immensely grateful.

---

"Robbie Bourbon. Man of the people. The masked wrestler that has changed his shtick, so many times, it could practically make your head spin. Thankfully, I never paid too close attention to any of your nonsense. Every so often, I would hear the vague mention of some ridiculous stunt you pulled, that corresponded along with whatever metaphorical hat you wore that day but that's about it. Truth be told you never summoned my need to do anything beyond that or purposefully seek out information about you. In my eyes, you were always that goofball in spandex, dancing for attention and nothing more. You were annoying but at the same time, you never provoked my anger or admiration. You were simply there. That guy I sometimes seen in the hall, violently shaking all the candy and snacks out of the vending machine. I assume you have some talent though. You've held titles, you are apparently the MVP and you earned this match, so you must be a worthy opponent in some capacity."


"In truth, that's all that matters to me, right now. A challenge of any kind. Cause after Pasha, literally anyone and everyone fills that role and I need to shake off the stench of that walking cesspool, bad. Seriously, I cannot comprehend how a man of his size and strength could stink so much at fighting, he was a fucking mutated ogre that went around slaughtering bears in Russia, for Christ's sake. Yet, in our first match he needed his friends to help him cheat his way to a win and then he was incapacitated, before our last fight even began. What the hell happened there? What... did he fall down and crack his skull open, while stumbling around the halls? Unbelievable. How does that man call himself a wrestler, when he can't even journey down a hallway, without tripping over his own feet?"


"Anyway, the point I was trying to make is that after I had to suffer through, all that was Pasha. I need to fight wrestlers that can actually wrestle and didn't roll down a mountain, get shot with a few dozen tranquilizer darts, put in a cage and then slapped into wrestling tights, by some shady ringmaster running a circus. Someone that's paid for wrestling and doesn't just get a bucket of fish heads, tossed at them through their cage bars at dinnertime, every night."


"That's where Duke came in on Saturday Night Savage and where you come in now, Robbie Bourbon. To thank you and show my utmost gratitude for being my second real fight, I promise I will not hold back or pull any punches. However, unlike what I did for Sebastian in our match, I will use my abilities. To their fullest. I haven't broken out the wolf within... in ages, during combat and sometimes, you have to release the beast and let him howl. It's a werewolf thing, you wouldn't understand. Same as how I don't get your whole peculiar situation or how you can get up everyday and continue being... you. What I do know is that you're the MVP and you can take it. All that extra padding you're packing should help too."


"Why, I bet I couldn't even put a scratch into a single one of your internal organs, let alone tear into your intestines and yank them out for the world to observe, with only one swipe of my claws, it would at least take... two or more, at best. Which I will do because my goal is to rip you to shreds and leave you as nothing more than a bloody mound of torn apart flesh and fat, in the center of the ring but here... look at it this way, on the plus side, it'll take much more effort on my part. Upon retrospect, that isn't admittedly a positive aspect. Since your torment will last longer. Oh well... see you in the ring, Robbie. May the best wolf or man, win."

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