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Thaddeus Duke · (11-15-2016)

Friday, December 25, 2015 | 12:42 AM Local Time | The Vatican

Thaddeus plops himself down in the throne of St. Peter. He’s supposed to be overjoyed and jubilant that his military has won the war. He should be completely ecstatic that through his efforts, the Vatican now belongs to the Brotherhood of the Illuminatus. Except he’s not happy. In fact, if one peeled back the layers of his blank stare, it would reveal dreadfulness and fear.

Illuminatus Two has been blown to pieces over Northern Italy. The acrimony felt between the Church and the Illuminatus, Thaddeus felt would begin to dissipate and cool off has instead grown hotter. On his way out, the Pope teased that there was a fifty-fifty shot but they had to take it. Thaddeus questioned but never got an answer as the Swiss guard rushed the Pope from the city.

Then the news broke.

Illuminatus Two was lost. Struck by a missile and blown up en route to the Italian Peninsula. Lieutenant James Edwards, Thaddeus Duke’s Custos Sanguinem, or blood guardian, in other words his body guard, paces nearby making phone calls.

The fair haired young man, still dressed in his leather bomber, places his phone in his pocket and kneels at the feet of his Prince. ”My Prince, Illuminatus One has landed safely,” he informs.

Thaddeus shifts uncomfortably in the throne. ”Do we have confirmation on the loss of Illuminatus Two?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

”The plane is lost, sir.”

”Stand up, James,” the Prince commands. ”I don’t care for the protocol. You know who I am, more importantly I know who I am. Kneeling at my feet changes none of that.

“Plus it makes me uncomfortable.”

James Edwards does as he’s asked and stands up.

”Let’s walk,” Thaddeus says as he stands and begins to walk toward the interior side of St. Peter’s Basilica. James follows. They come to a stop at the tomb of Pope John Paul II. ”John Paul the second. He called off the clandestine war with us in hopes of peace. My grandfather respected him greatly.”

”What changed it?” James asks, deeply interested.

”I trust you with my life James. I often forget just how new you are to the fold.

“Do we have confirmation on what plane my family was on?”

”No sir. That’s never divulged as a precaution. As soon as I know, you’ll know.”

”When John Paul the second was alive, my grandfather was content with keeping our headquarters at the Illuminatus Compound back in the States,” Thaddeus begins to explain. ”After the Pope passed away, all that changed.

“The Cardinals got together and elected Ratzinger to the papacy. His first act was to put a man in our midst. A treacherous piece of shit that attempted to kill my father and kidnapped my grandfather. At that point, all bets were off.

“The clandestine war that had cooled off, was turned up to ten. And it was no longer clandestine.

“My father forced Ratzinger into retirement by threatening to expose the truth.”

”What truth?”

”The truth is, my grandfather was a protege of Ratzinger in Germany in the old days. Ratzinger played nice and played on their old friendship. He asked my grandfather to look after his nephew.

“The man the Church put into our midst was a man named Jonathan. It turns out, he was not Ratzingers nephew, but instead, his illegitimate bastard son.

“My father was merciful. He promised to spare the Church the embarrassment and public scrutiny in exchange for Benedicts resignation. He obviously chose resignation.”

”It makes sense now,” James begins. ”Pope Benedict was the first to resign in what? 700 years? I always wondered why he decided to call it quits.”

Suddenly James phone goes off in his pocket, breaking the conversation as Thaddeus stares at the Pope’s tomb.

”What is it?” Thaddeus asks.

”Well,” James cracks a smile as he reads the text on his phone. ”The King and the Chancellor have arrived safely. They were on board Illuminatus One.

“They took out a plane my Prince, but it wasn’t the right one!”

A look of relief from the young Prince as he rushes back toward the throne.

”Fetch my crown!”

St. Peter’s Square is alive and bustling with Illuminatus troops and Italian civilians alike. Many chat with one another in friendly ways. The Illuminatus never wanted to be at odds with the locals. The destruction that rained down upon Rome was an unfortunate cost of war. Most understand it, even if they don’t agree with it.

Suddenly a convoy of vehicles enters the Square. Small flags atop the fenders with the Illuminatus black field and red iron cross signify the occupants are of the leadership. The vehicles come to a stop. Security detail exits first, opening the rear doors of a blacked out Ford Explorer. Out of those doors, first steps Sebastian Duke. Behind him, with his cane in hand is the current German Chancellor and High Priest of the Illuminatus, Asmodeus.

”I never understood why they called it St. Peter’s Square!” exclaims the Chancellor. As he looks around the surrounding area at all of the people and the buildings.

”Well, Peter was the foun...” the King of Darkness begins before being abruptly cut off by his father.

”I know who Peter was, Sebastian. I mean, it’s not a square. It’s a damn circle!” Asmodeus explains.

”Want to see something pretty awesome, Dad?” asks the King. To which, Asmodeus does not respond. He only looks up at his sons face. Sebastian Duke points toward the top of the Basilica. Flying high above, is the flag of the Illuminatus.

Asmodeus stumbles forward as he chokes back tears. ”My life’s work! Our life’s work!

“That borderline maniacal son of yours…

“I can hardly believe it!”

”Believe it.

“The kid pulled it off.”

The duo begins to walk toward the Basilica.

”He’s a fantastic natural born leader, Sebastian.

“One day, he may well be better than both of us combined.”

”I can’t disagree.

“He’s tough. He’s firm. But I think he’s not as short sighted as we are.

“He’s a bit brash and rushes into things a little too fast, but he’ll learn to quell that over time. The Illuminatus is in good hands.”

The duo reaches the steps of the Basilica.

Thaddeus sits upon the throne of Saint Peter, wearing his crown cocked slightly to one side, with his left foot up on the seat. The doors creak as they’re opened by Illuminatus guards. Sebastian Duke enters the Basilica followed shortly by the hobbled German Chancellor.

Thaddeus smirks and begins a slow clap, being a total smart ass. ”We thought you both were dead. It would have been nice if either of you answered my calls.

“I guess you got your dramatic entrance you always like, right father?”

”It’s kind of hard to grab a hold of your phone when the pilot has a jumbo jet in a steep dive trying to avoid a catastrophic missile strike,” replies his father.

”Thaddeus!” Asmodeus yells, snapping the young man to attention.

”Yes grandfather?”

”You will respect the throne you sit in. Straighten up and sit correctly,” he demands of his grandson. Thaddeus does as he’s instructed, sitting upright and placing both feet on the floor.

The duo reaches the steps leading to the altar of Saint Peter.

”One day son, you’ll sit in that chair and you’ll know its yours. Your grandfather and I will both be dead, but it’ll be yours nonetheless.

“One day.

“Not today.

“Get the hell off my throne, asshole!” the King commands. Thaddeus smiles slightly and does as he’s ordered. Sebastian Duke begins to take his seat when a voice is heard in the distance.

”Actually...” Matthew begins as he enters the large doorway while looking over an ancient looking scroll document. ”It’s not your throne either, your Highness.”

The three Duke’s look at each other, confused. Sebastian neglects to sit after hearing such news and remains standing in front of the throne.

”What the hell are you talking about?” the Illuminatus King inquires.

”I’ve discovered an ancient document from the original Illuminatus founding.

“It states here, that the crown flows through bloodlines, sir.”

”We’re aware of that, Matt. And here we are,” he states before sitting his big as down in the throne.

”Yes but what you’re not understanding yet, is what I haven’t yet told you.

“The royal bloodlines of the Illuminatus always begins with the founding family.

“The eldest living family member,” Matthew concludes.

”So what that means is...”

”It means that you are the Illuminatus King, grandfather.”

The three royals look at each other in astonishment.

”Get the hell out of my chair!” Asmodeus exclaims as he ascends the steps to the throne now vacated by the disheartened Sebastian Duke.

”You kinda deserved that.”

”Fuck off, dick,” the once and future King retorts to his son.

”So if you were still wrestling, would you be called the Prince of Darkness?” Thaddeus asks of his father, completely enjoying this turn of events. ”What a way to dispel the thought around the world that we’re just a bunch of Satanists,” Thaddeus laughs out loud. ”You fuckin’ idiot.”

”Didn’t I tell you to fuck off?”

Here we are with another Thaddeus Duke victory in the Xtreme Wrestling Federation. My fathers old stomping grounds are quickly becoming my playground. Ghost Tank tried. Jakob Davis tried harder. They both claimed they would, but ultimately failed to beat me.

Then Luca Arzegotti.

Held in high regard in the quiet circles of the XWF. Held in high regard for his cutting wit and humor in his promos over the years. A man so esteemed that his promos were like daggers, so good because he knew how to push the right buttons to get his opponents on edge. To make his opponents defend themselves and just feel completely uncomfortable in their own skin.

I told you I just didn’t see it.

In fact, no one saw it this week when I schooled the veteran at his own game.

I’m now two and oh after defeating a legend in his own right. Not as big a legend as neither my uncle nor my father but a legend nevertheless.

Do you get it yet?

Are you paying attention now?

Are you seeing that I’m every bit as good as I claim to be?

Are you seeing that the next generation of Duke’s is just as good if not better than the last?

Or do you choose to sit and stew in your own blind hatred for my family?

Jealousy is an ugly color on anyone. But I definitely see that it’s unequivocally there. My father and my uncle both won everything there is to win and there’s no reason to suspect anything different from yours truly. It is inevitable that sooner or later yet another Duke will wear XWF gold.

Maybe I’ll break Dolly Waters in half and show her what a real champion can do in that ring.

Maybe I’ll break McBride’s fucking skull and show him what real championship material is made of.

Maybe I’ll bribe whomever I need to bribe to get into a Universal title match with Scully. Supposing he makes it passed Peter Gilmour, which of course, is a long shot.

The only thing that’s for sure, is that no matter what one of those champions I face, I’d defeat them. I’d defeat them and take their precious titles away from them. And the fans of the XWF would finally have a champion they could count on. They’d finally have a champion that refused to play hot potato with the XWF gold.

Dolly’s the Television champion. She loses that and becomes Hart Champion. Same with McBride.

Come the fuck on people.

The Xtreme title was vacant. Now it’s not and the first new champion lost it in a shorter amount of time than it takes to force yourself to sit through a Michael Graves promo.

Now the Television title is vacant.

What the fuck is this shit?

Is this the XWF or WWE?

No one with a fucking brain watches that garbage. No one wants that garbage. It’s like the fans and the company have a collective IQ of 12 and ADD on top of it.

It’s no fucking wonder we’re going to have either Heyman or Trump as championship commissioner.

My money is on Trump.

Thaddeus Duke.

Cocky.

Brilliant.

God damn amazing.

Your saving grace of the XWF title picture.

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