A little while after, Nathaniel finished taking the lead in a Spinal Osteomyelitis Surgery.


"I just wanted to express my gratitude for... for everything. Thank you, doctor. You saved my cousin's life and I know, Floyd was reluctant about the surgery, even after the antibiotics were clearly not working and it should have been evident that having the operation was the only way to go, he expressed being against the procedure and in an extremely rude fashion too. Often acting irrational and even violent, while releasing an almost endless stream of insults your way, every time you met with him to discuss the option that best suited his condition. I apologize for that. His behavior was utterly uncalled for but he was scared, the surgery was risky and he knew that, so his fear made him act out in a bad way. Still, you managed to convince him to have it done and in spite of the recovery process, being somewhat lengthier than desired, you eased his suffering and gave him more time in the long run and for that I am eternally grateful. Thank you, Dr. Idenhaus. You are truly a godsend and a pillar of your profession."


"I'm sorry... what???"


Normally, Nathaniel didn't lose his concentration and become distracted like that at work... or anywhere, for that matter. He was always focused, mindful of his surroundings and perceptive of circumstances, before he even encountered them. Never did he simply stop paying attention and even when he did deem words unworthy of his full fixation, Nathaniel didn't drop the ball and allow others to realize, he had no idea what they were talking about. He always knew how to gauge the situation and respond accordingly. So zoning out like that was unusual and quite rare for him. Yet, not without reason because while that was going on, he was picking up on another series of words that were taking place, thanks to his keen sense of hearing and once he started concentrating on that exchange, everything else ceased to exist.


"I was uh... thanking you."


A man in his late twenties, wearing jeans, a t-shirt and an over-sized, grey and black checkered hoodie, with dusty brown, floppy hair and umber eyes, stammered awkwardly.


"For saving my cousin's life."


Attempting to recover from that social snafu as quickly as possible because another pressing issue was now summoning his immediate attention, Nathaniel briefly smiled and smacked the fellow on the shoulder, right before he stated...


"No need to thank me, it's my job to successfully complete such tasks. The important part is that your cousin is alive and well, and while I appreciate your gratitude, you should really utilize this time that you have, in his favor. That way, you're right there, standing by his bedside, when he wakes up. Opposed to your cousin finding himself, all alone and in an empty room, when he rises. Anyway, it's imperative that I now, excuse myself and attend an occurrence of significant importance, separate from this scenario. So that's what I'm going to do."


With that Nathaniel pivoted on his heels and exited the area, through the nearest door. Walking casually at first, it wasn't long before his movements turned into a militant march, forward. Till he was mere inches, from his intended destination. Next to a group that had gradually formed around the spectacle, caused by Dr. Cobalt Bently, belittling and demeaning Sasha for her "alleged" poor performance in the operating room. An accusation that couldn't be more incorrect because had it not been for Sasha, the patient would have surely perished, due to Dr. Bently's inept organ extraction abilities and swift, shoddy stitching, errors that Sasha was right there to rectify and salvage the integrity of the patient's health.


Neither act was noticed outside of the operating room by Dr. Bently though and instead he chose to make himself feel better by putting her down, which was precisely what he finished doing when Nathaniel arrived. Standing there now, with a smug, self assured, imperious expression, plastered across his face after issuing an extensive verbal assault that left Sasha feeling like the embodiment of a deflated balloon. Dr. Bently failed to detect Nathaniel as he approached. That lack of recognition would soon change when Cobalt heard a single word uttered, in a soft growl of a warning; directly behind him, instantly filling him with apprehension and making the hairs on his body stand on edge.


"Apologize."


"Excuse me?"


Frustrated sigh.


"Apologize to Sasha."


"I beg your pardon?"


Dr. Cobalt Bently attempted to turn but before he could accomplish this movement, Nathaniel stepped around him and stood, towering over the man. His steel blue eyes, cold and unforgiving. As a hint of rage brought on by Sasha's disrespect, bled into his tone, he met Dr. Bently's gaze and raised his voice by a few decibels.


"I said, apologize. To Sasha."


"Apologize, to Sasha? That's absurd. For what? I've done nothing wrong to her."


"Is that so? Interesting. And you're positive about this assessment, yes?"


"Absolutely. I am categorically without blame."


"Agree to disagree."


One expeditious and efficient punch to the nose, not only broke it but the blow was also delivered with enough force to send Dr. Cobalt Bently, soaring until a wall caught him and ceased his trajectory. Upon slamming into it, Bently crashed to the floor, where he laid there for a few minutes, in a painful looking heap and groaned. Gingerly lifting his head, he was greeted by the sight of Nathaniel, standing above him, looking down with a smirk as he shook his head in dismay. Nothing more was said after that though and from his place on the floor, Cobalt watched as Nathaniel turned around and strolled to the elevator, with Sasha quickly joining him by his side. The elevator doors opened, then closed and soon after that, they were gone. Only when Sasha and Nathaniel were outside and putting an increasing amount of distance, between them and the hospital, did Sasha pose any sort of inquiry to Nathaniel.


"So what's the plan now, oh wise one that makes all the decisions, without discussing things with his girlfriend first?"


To which Nathaniel replied with a shrug.


"I don't know. What do you think of New York?"

---

Snappy's Snack Shack. On an average night, this brightly lit, colorful, gas station convenience shop was alive with activity, all the way into the "wee hours" of the morning. The place always seemed to be bustling and boomin' with life. Which in turn added atmosphere and appeal and drew in even more business. Out of all the gas stations in a seven mile radius, this one was by far the busiest and tonight, would be no different. With the exception that on this evening in inquiry, the place would be swarming with law enforcement, both the boys in blue, uniform cops and detectives alike. Woefully, it wasn't merely craving a delicious treat, in the form of Snappy's famous chili cheese dogs, that brought them all there. No, they were there to investigate a crime of the most heinous kind - murder. Or rather, multiple murders.


Yet these homicides weren't like most killings, in the sense that upon entering the crime scene, a particular aura of evil, seemed to linger and hang heavy in the air that was already pungent and ripe, with the stench of death. This small, convenient store had been transformed into a virtual shack of slaughter, overnight. Body parts were strewn everywhere, in multiple directions. Organs, entrails and human gore decorated the floors and shelves, while the walls, windows and glass cooler doors were splattered with blood. To top things off, most of the larger pieces appeared to have massive chunks and portions savagely ripped and torn from them, almost as if some type of wild beast, gnawed the flesh from the bone. Like this all was some type of intense feeding frenzy.


It was revolting to say the least and to view the entire nauseating tableau, all at once was beyond overwhelming. More than one police officer threw up, while several others promptly fainted and with just cause too. For this horrific site was the thing of nightmares of the most foul and fucked up variety. Solely the sadistic lover of the morbid and macabre and those with a strong resolve, an iron stomach and the ability to lock eyes with Mephistopheles; himself, without flinching, could enter this truly awful location, unaffected.


It's no wonder, that among the sea of law enforcement that were called in to work the scene of the crime, Detective Mick Ashcroft and his partner Detective Riley St. Croix were also enlisted to the case. Positioned in the center of the carnage, they waited for the forensics team to arrive as they gazed around at the gruesome display surrounding them. While they waited, Mick fired up a cigarette and took a pull, slowly allowing the smoke to siphon from his nose and mouth, in silence.


"Okay, what the fuck is wrong with you, why are you this calm, right now? You're usually beyond livid, when forensics is late. There would have been at least, four or five "bloody hells" as well as more than a handful of cuss words tossed around by now, with most of them directed straight at the forensic team but tonight, you almost seem calm. What gives?"


"Perhaps, I turned over a new leaf? Maybe I took up practicing yoga, honed my inner chi (chee) and believe in zen now?"


"No, I don't buy it. You're an angry British man, you smoke too much, tend to hate most people and on top of that, you work as a detective in New York. You definitely did not decide to become all zen and spiritual overnight. Which means... oh crap. You know who the new chief medical examiner guy is... you know who, Woodrow Garrison's replacement is going to be, don't you? Oh my god, you have to tell me! Who is it?!?! I have got to know!"


"Patience poppet, keep your shirt on, you are literally going to meet the man of the hour in the matter of minutes."


"Right but I'm better than the rest of these turkeys, half of them don't even know how to navigate a crime scene, let alone walk and drink coffee at the same time; therefore, I deserve privileged information, for instance the identity of the new chief medical officer."


"Is that right?"


Mick took a drag from his cigarette.


"Yes, that's absolutely correct. So c'mon, stop being a dick and dish already.


Exhaling, Mick chuckled as the door to Snappy's Snack Shack, swung open and Nathaniel Idenhaus, strolled into the shop.

---

"There are many events in life that cannot be foretold or predicted. The outcome I experienced at Relentless is not one of those instances. I told you, I was going to bring the title back to the XWF and I delivered good on my word. The belt is back where it belongs, firmly affixed around my waist and that is where it will stay, for a very, very long time. It's a shame Pasha wasn't actually able to make it to the ring for our match though. Apparently he was badly attacked before our fight even began. Some might even say he was brutalized, his body broken beyond what a normal human could withstand and left, barely clinging to life... or so I heard."


"Good thing he's a mutated, freak of nature, right? All that radiation he soaked up, back in Mother Russia is really paying off now. Think about it, if he had been any other, random schmuck, stumbling around, he'd be dead. On the other hand, since he's the real life version of Sloth, there's a chance he'll survive his injuries and to show him support during his recovery process because I'm a nice guy like that... I sent him a care package, chock full of Baby Ruths. I am certain he will be thrilled to receive it. Pasha, if you're watching this from your hospital bed, your welcome."


"Anyway, moving on to more current events, on the next edition of Saturday Night Savage, I am slated to take on a man that I know quite well and have worked with for an extensive period of time in the past. In fact, at one point, you couldn't find one of us without the other; somewhere, nearby because we were part of the same team and that's how it worked. That is what was required because Shane , believed in strength in numbers, especially since a lot of the time we weren't welcome and came to cause a disturbance. Every time a member had a match, the entire group traveled to the arena. That's just how it went, I was part of the Black Circle and on the next edition of Savage, I'm facing one of my former brethren, Sebastian Duke."


"Personally, I have a great deal of respect for Sebastian and while we may have previously exchanged words, I do not hold any ill will for him, he's never crossed me nor has he gone out of his way to do me wrong. With that being said, none of this will effect my mindset, regarding our match. This fight has been discussed for awhile and has been a long time coming, I have every intention to give it my all. I will not hold back or show mercy, in spite of the history that Duke and I share and I expect nothing less from him. To show restraint would be an insult and while I plan on physically dismantling him in the ring, I would never disrespect him by holding back. I'll systematically destroy him and send him to the ICU but I won't do that."


"I also plan on taking Duke on, without any extra advantages in my favor. Meaning, I won't transform into a werewolf or use any supernatural abilities, during battle. Not that Sebastian would ever believe that I became a werewolf. From his perspective, he'll more than likely view my effort to avoid turning into a werewolf, as proof that I'm merely suffering lycanthropy and never took on the wolf curse. That's fine. Let him believe what he needs to believe, it changes nothing. Next week Saturday, we will both enter the squared circle and I promise, only one of us will be leaving of our own volition. That sole individual capable of exiting the ring of his own accord, will be me, without question. No matter how many times I'm knocked down, I will get back up and attack, with every fiber of my being. Every ounce of my soul. And I will not stop, my onslaught will be unyielding. I intend to prevail or die trying and unless Sebastian Duke, plans on bringing a gun, loaded with silver bullets to our fight, I'm positive I won't find myself in the clutches of death's icy claw."


"Victory shall be mine."


"Oh and if I'm willing to come this hard when it's a non-title bout, imagine what I might do when the belt is on the line."


"Just something to think on..."

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