It had been ages since Dillinger was this high. At least, that's how it felt. Though, it also seemed like his interview with Ellen happened a few years ago, so his perception of time might have been a tad off. Not that it mattered. None of that meant a damn thing, right now as Dillinger stood on Gretchen's balcony and fired up a cigarette. His eyes trained on the street below and his thoughts random and askew. He felt good. Like the planet could implode at any second and he'd be okay with that. Watching the people pass by, scurrying on their way, coming and going, even at this late hour. What time was it? It was dark out so it must be late. With a sigh, Dillinger went to retrieve his cell phone from his pocket and discovered it wasn't there. Mostly because neither was the pocket. Or his pants for that matter. Which raised the question, where did he get the cigarette from?

Without an answer to that, Dillinger turned his attention back to the street and allowed a chuckle to seep pass his lips as he witnessed everything in his view, double. The outlines of people, animals and things, detached and split. Dividing to the point where there were two shapes that existed, so close they were practically on top of each other, yet separate enough to be seen as two, individual objects. Except, instead of being carbon copies, it was more like one was a solid form and the other was an opaque trail or a silhouette, that followed closely behind. To add even more emphasis to this, there was a distinct hue or glow, that emitted from the secondary figure. Both parts moved along equally though, staying apart but remaining together, while they traversed in one fluid motion. Till an ever evolving current or slipstream began to emerge. Constantly changing, always moving and everlasting. It flowed and fluctuated in a unified stream; however, each facet involved in that continuous torrent, remained an individual source. They never merged. Not once. Even when certain aspects would cross or combine. For instance, when two people would kiss or hold hands, their closely looming clones of light wouldn't fuse. Instead they would exist on top of one another or settle alongside, staying parallel, without ever being amalgamated. It was quite the dazzling, light show and Dillinger couldn't help but become entranced in it as he took a drag from his cigarette.

He stayed focused and heavily engrossed in the shining display, until there was a crash and with it, there came a sudden break in the flux. A car smashed into a pedestrian, crossing the street. The man now laid on the road. Solid. Alone. He lost his trail as others that were still connected to the luminescent stream, gathered around. Everything proceeded, while nothing moved at all. People called for help. Others jumped out of their cars. There were wails of sadness and harsh words of blame but no amount of what happened, changed anything. Then, in an instant. A flash of a second. So quick and spontaneous, it occurred but no one bore witness to it. No one other than Dillinger, that is. A spark sprung forth, blazing from the fallen man, it shot to the stars and evaporated into the sky. Leaving a shadow in its place. A darkness. The man existed on the street, just the same as before but now, his body was concealed in a dominate, overpowering shade, that wouldn't go away. Despite the amount of time that passed. It remained. Forever overshadowed. Dillinger shook his head and stepped back as he exhaled a cloud of smoke. This was too freaky, he needed to go back inside.

Turning around, he rushed back into Gretchen's apartment and swallowed, hard, when everything inside had a disturbing light show following it as well. Except this time, the trails became faded. Distorted. They changed shapes and the glowing outlines; the ones that seemed like they were bound to follow whatever they mirrored, took on a route of their own. After that, their appearances altered and the room around him changed in design, several times. However, nothing came in contact with him, he merely existed and everything morphed around him. Meanwhile, Gretchen's apartment coexisted right along with these transformations. Until everything was in layers. From solid shapes, colors and lines, to a very faint hue and every consistency in-between. Never integrating, the layers coexisted, side by side. Different but the same, it all seemed to adjust with time. Varying from new to very old. The dawn of the present, to the shadows of the past. It was all there, all shown for Dillinger to witness. Every piece at the same time. Why? He didn't know but the sight of it all, happening at once... well, it was too much for him to behold and eventually, he couldn't hold back the screams as he sank to his knees and covered his face with his hands.

Within seconds, he felt himself being shaken and he immediately uncovered his face to see that Gretchen was staring at him. She looked a bit concerned but other than that, she appeared to be normal and thankfully, so did everything else. The world was back to subsiding on the same plane of existence and nothing separated or drifted apart from it. When he looked at Gretchen, she was a single, solid shape. Nothing more or less. Dillinger sighed, retrieved the cigarette that he dropped; from the floor, and took a long drag.

"Got any more drugs, I think these are wearing off."

He grinned and her concern melted away to giggles as he tackled her to the floor.

---

"Chris Chambers!"

"You just had to open that big ol' trap of yours, didn't you? You had to dig an even bigger hole, than what you're very own, smug, holier-than-thou, sanctimonious, carcass would ever fill. Shit. When you're not contradicting yourself, you're saying something stupid, like I'm coming out of hiding. Seriously? I was in hiding? From who? You? Not a chance. Maybe in your wildest dreams that's a thing but here in reality, where the match is happening, not so much. Hey, but you tried to try! Unfortunately... for you, when it came to thinking and relaying thoughts through words, it just didn't work out for you. Awww. Better luck next time, sport. Might I suggest, actually becoming acquainted with your opponent before you open your mouth? I don't simply say that I kill people, I've actually killed people. Live. For all to see. If I wanted to kill you, I would gladly do just that, but I don't, so I won't. No, I want to have fun with you. More fun, than what a simple murder would provide, anyway. I want you to beg for death. To wish for its embrace as an end to your suffering. Of course, it'll never come and you're only saving grace will arrive in the form of Frodo because lets face it, you never got your affairs in order, did you? Nope. You're a dummy. And that means you sure as fuck didn't get anything in order regarding that. So after I break you, into a million fucking pieces, the XWF is going to ship you off to his basement. For 'recovery'. Hey, if you survive that, we should do this again sometime. I'll even put up the title. Assuming I still have it by then."

"See ya in the ring, Chamber Pot!"

"Y'know... you might be full of shit but I'm going to have a blast kickin' the crap out of you!"