Threaded Mode | Linear Mode

Thaddeus Duke · (07-21-2021)

Illuminatus Compound || Old Saybrook, Connecticut || 2:41 AM

Jim leads me and John Miller into the cellar and once inside, I pull up a dusty old wooden chair and take a seat. For a long few moments I wonder to myself what might’ve been had I never taken control of the Illuminatus from my father. All these years later and my Illuminatus now stands to suffer its worst defeat in modern history.

The Ares Project was quiet until they weren’t. They were underground until the weren’t. Since this war started, to be honest it’s mostly been them claiming victory and I’m still struggling to accept that. In the early days, I couldn’t hit them with my air force and if I had been, the war would’ve been over quickly. The air force is the most elite military unit on the planet and could go toe to toe with any world super power and come out on top.

What I lack is ground troops. They’re spread too thin all over Europe protecting my bases and times such as these when they hit me on American soil, it really puts my back against the wall. I knew they’d hit my bases again and I needed as many troops there as possible. Since they’ve been labeled a terrorist organization, I honestly let my guard down here at home. I didn’t think they’d risk hitting me here.

”C’mon Thad, we need to go,” Jim says, breaking my thoughts.

”Is Brad Wallace safe?” I ask of Jim and the mention of that name causes John Miller to shoot me a look.

”We got him out before I came looking for you,” Jim replies.

Above our heads, bombs continue to explode on and inside the building and every so often you can hear the floor boards creaking and moaning as they desperately cling to life. Again above my head I can hear feint screams in the distance. Immediately I jump to my feet and run up the steps back toward the interior of the Compound. In a failed effort to stop me, Jim trips over John’s foot and lands with a thud. I stop momentarily in case he’s hurt but he gets back up quickly and I exit through the doorway. Just as I round the corner, Jim catches up to me and grabs my arm, spinning me around.

”It’s too late for them,” he advises me and his heart is in the right place but he knows my way of thinking. If I’m breathing, it’s never over.

”Am I supposed to just let them die?” I ask almost rhetorically.

”Mate this is what they signed up for all those years ago,” he answers candidly. ”When they abandoned your father and joined you, that was them telling you that they’ll die so that you might live.”

”I’m tired of them dying, Jim!”

”The only way to stop it, is winning the war,” he says with a pause. ”The only way we win is with you leading the charge like you always have. You go out there and you die Thaddeus. Sure as shit.”

”Fuck!” I shout in frustration before taking a long few moments to contemplate the serious lack of options I have at my disposal. In the meantime, the building is continuously rocked by more missiles and a bomb from above every now and then.

Still in the hallway leading to the cellar door, I nod my head to Jim and abandon my plan to fight until the end. Following him, the building around us starts to shake on its foundation. Bits and pieces of the walls upstairs and down begin to crumble and the ceiling above us is cracking in a catastrophic way. A chunk of ceiling falls down a few feet behind me and I shove Jim into the cellar doorway and dive sideways myself just as a massive chunk of the upper floor collapses, cutting me off from the cellar.

”Thad!” Jim cries out as he rushes back toward the blocked doorway.

”I’m fine,” I say back quickly before coughing up a lung. When I hit the floor and the ceiling fell in, I inhaled quite a bit of dust. ”Where’s Frankie and Berta?” I ask of him as I get back to my feet.

”A couple miles up the coast,” Jim answers. ”Way out of harms way.”

”Get out and tell Karen not to wait for me,” I order him. ”Get them both to the penthouse in New York. Tell Frankie I love him and I’ll see him sometime in the morning.”

”Wait what are you doing?” he asks with an understandably worried look on his face.

”I gotta find another way out without those assholes seeing me.”

”Right mate,” he replies as he turns to head down the steps.

”Jim if Miller gives you any trouble just put a bullet in his head and be done with it.

“Now go.”

Jim gives me a nod and disappears down the steps. A moment later, I hear another scream and I turn to run in that direction. In the main hallway I reach the opening in the roof where the moonlight spills in and everything falls quiet. There are no more screams to follow. The planes have flown off. The bombs have stopped falling and the missiles have stopped rocking the house.

For a long moment I stand there in my new skylights and stare up through the holes in the house toward the clear skies above. Regardless of what’s happening outside, the Ares Project was soundly victorious on this night. They’ll do their hooting and hollering. They’ll pop open their champagne and pass around their cheap cigars and celebrate the moment they defeated the Illuminatus and Thaddeus Duke on his home turf.

As I stand here staring up into the heavens I begin hoping that the house would just come down upon me and end everything. No more fighting, no more war, no more death. That thinking leads me to begin contemplating how my absence would affect those in my life that love me. Those that depend on me. How would Elizabeth cope with my demise and what would she tell Talon and Caitlyn about their courageous yet often times ridiculously idiotic father? How would Dolly Waters cope with losing the best friend she’s ever had? Adi Gold? Years of flirting with one another and we’re finally making moves in the right direction… what would it do to her? Above all of that though, how would Frankie deal with losing yet another parent inside of a calendar year?

”Thaddeus,” comes the voice of Asmodeus from somewhere in the dark shadows behind me. Somewhat startled by his voice, I turn to face the darkness. Stepping from the shadows and into the moonlight, my grandfather stands before me.

”I don’t have anything to say to you old man,” I reply to him coldly and most likely with a tear in my eye. My feelings at the moment are entirely numb.

”It’s time to leave, my son,” he says with a calming quietness that’s really unlike the normal loud authoritative Asmodeus.

”There’s still time to fight,” I reply.

”Yes, but another day,” he pleads as he steps just inches in from my face. ”Thaddeus, this building will fall.”

”Does that disappoint you?” I ask of him and part of me is figuratively kicking myself in the ass for even caring.

”You’ve never done anything to disappoint me my son.”

”What difference does it make Grandfather?” I ask with a pause. ”Whether I die fighting, or I die because this building comes down?”

”It matters a great deal,” Asmodeus replies. ”And I don’t mean for the war and I don’t mean for the Illuminatus. This world is a better place because you exist within it.”

”If I’m dead Grandfather,” I begin, seemingly almost begging him to give me permission to die. ”There’s no more war, no more death.”

”I’m not asking you to live to fight another day,” he says with some vigor. ”I’m asking you to live so that my grandchildren know truly what kind of man their father is. I’ve warned you before Thaddeus, that even if you perished, they’d go after your children.”

”I don’t think they would,” I reply in effort to perhaps convince both of us. ”They’re just babies.”

”Infants sure,” he says. ”That will one day grow up to still wear the Duke name. To one day grow up and re-establish the Illuminatus that their grandfather founded and their father gave his life for.

“We do not concede to our enemies Thaddeus. We make them regret the day they ever fired their first shots. We make them rue the day they ever heard our names. We make them long for death before finally giving it to them.”

”Great grandfather,” I correct him. ”And stop emotionally blackmailing me. You forfeited that right when you proved yourself a traitor to the crown. My crown. My childrens crown.”

”Yes,” he readily admits. ”I conspired with Jacob against the crown of the Illuminatus. I stood in betrayal of your father. In betrayal of you. And in betrayal of your children.

“And I’d do it again,” he concludes with honesty.

”Why though?”

”Your father was both the King and a fool,” he answers quickly. ”I’m sorry Thaddeus, that it cost your mother her life. She was making him weak just as we were ramping up the war with the Church.

“I couldn’t have that.”

”My father was weak long before he met my mother,” I fire back and he nods his agreement.

“I know you’re different than I was. I know you don’t see things from my perspective and I don’t expect you to. No matter what else you are Thaddeus, you have a good heart.”

”I can feel it getting colder,” I admit to him with a tear running down my dust covered face. ”And that scares me. And I’m not afraid of anything.”

”It will pass in time my boy,” he says quickly. If I’m not mistaken, a look of concern crosses his face.

”It’s like...” my voice trails off for a moment as I search for the words. ”Maybe Doc was right and there is darkness in me.”

”You can not share my blood and not have darkness in you boy,” he replies quickly. ”But you and you alone can control it.”

”I don’t know how,” I admit with a pause. ”I send people to their graves without a second thought...”

”It’s them or us.”

”I’ve recently found myself taking joy in the misfortunes of those I don’t like… and sometimes, those I do like.”

”Who?”

Staring at him a moment, instead of answering his question, I change the subject. ”Tell me something... Tell me anything truthful that I don’t already know.”

Asmodeus stands there in the moonlight staring up at me. In his silence, I imagine him searching for the most honest fiber of his being. When I was younger, I had this man on a pedestal. I was quick to forget the bad things he did. As I’ve grown older, wiser, I learned to see him for what he is. A cold, callous, manipulative man that never cared about anything except himself… and me.

”Your father isn’t your father,” he finally says after much hesitation. I scoff in response as I’m unwilling to believe it. ”When your fathers child was conceived and I was altering the fetuses DNA I made a mistake and the fetus was… shall we say no longer viable.”

Standing there figuratively scratching my head for what seemed like five minutes in total shock of what he’s telling me, I still have a hard time believing it.

”So I had to make do on my own...”

Angrily, I grab Asmodeus by the lapels of his jacket and bring my face just an inch or so away from his. ”What the fuck are you saying!? Are you saying you fuckin’ raped my mother!?”

”No, never!” he says defensively. ”You were conceived artificially with my seed and her egg, then genetically modified to be exactly the way you are today.”

Letting go of him, I step back a few steps in a total loss for words.

”You never wondered why your loyalty, whether it be to your friends or the memory of your mother or to the Illuminatus is unbreakable?”

Without answering him, I continue to stand and stare in disbelief.

”You’ve wanted to run away from the world I created for you so many times and you could have ended the Illuminatus any time you wanted with the snap of a finger yet… you always came back.

“I did that.”

Still, I say nothing.

”Can you stand there Thaddeus, and say you’ve not ever wondered why I treated you so well and your father so poorly?”

”I-I-I...” no other words follow as I continue to wrap my head around the things he’s telling me.

”You’ve never wondered why I spent so much time tending to you? Teaching you the ways of leadership?”

”What the hell are you saying to me right now?”

”I didn’t get it right with Sebastian,” he says with a pause. ”It wasn’t for a lack of trying. And your Uncle Theo? He was his own man long before he entered our lives.

“But you… you were the one. You were the one I knew would step up and take the reigns when the time dictated you do so. It was always you I groomed to lead the Illuminatus into the future and Thaddeus, I know you hate me and everything I stand for.

“Believe me when I tell you… I am proud of you. I’m proud of the man you are. All the good, all the bad. I know it tortures you and I wish I could stop that for you.”

”Oh my God!” I say incredulously with my hands on either temple.

”Thaddeus… I... am your father… Your real… father,” he finally concludes.

I’m stunned entirely speechless at this revelation and I don’t even want to believe it, yet everything he’s saying, while its in his typical manipulative fashion, the math adds up.

”You must live, Thaddeus. If dawn breaks and you decide to dissolve the Illuminatus Nation, then do it. You don’t seek it nor should you, but nevertheless I give you my blessing to do so.

“If not for me or the Illuminatus. If not for Talon or Caitlyn or Francis or anyone else among the living I urge you to do so for your mother.”

Momentarily I want to take his head off his shoulders for invoking her name in an effort to manipulate me, but then I remembered I kind of already did in the necropolis when I smashed his skull.

”Does it surprise you that I might urge you in that direction?” he asks.

”A little bit, yeah,” I reply back quietly.

”Have you given much thought to the Ares Project’s newfound source of funding and new toys in which to kill you and your family with?”

”Of course I have,” I answer with a nod.

”Follow the money Thaddeus,” he advises. ”When you do, I promise it will give you a brand new reason to hate the...”

Asmodeus is cut off by the floor above me collapsing to the floor beside me. Like, right beside me. Turning my head back to my… father?… I realize he’s gone. Stepping through over and around the rubble toward the front doors of the Compound, I’m a little stunned to see my fully decked out quarter million dollar Audi RS8 crushed like a pancake beneath the weight of a fallen wall. Even still, it pales in comparison to the constant loss of life that forever surrounds my existence. However I’m relieved to see the Ares Project in full retreat.

Making my way over to the garage, I throw open the door and make my way into my fathers old woods truck. Inside, I search for the keys, finally finding them tucked inside the visor. Turning the key, the old beast turns but doesn’t start so I sit there a few moments and turn my head toward my beer fridge. Throwing the door open and stepping out of the truck, I retrieve a twelve pack of High Life from inside before returning to the truck.

After cracking open a cold one and taking a long, cold swallow of the delicious golden colored liquid, I pump the gas on the beat up jalopy a few times and turn the key. The old ‘78 Chevy rumbles to life and I back it out of the garage and steer it around the house to the backyard before coming to a stop near the tree line.

I consider driving into the woods to meet up with Jim and the rest of the survivors, but instead I kill the engine and climb out, carrying my beer with me. Lowering the tailgate, I hop inside and take a seat in the bed, leaning my back against the rear of the cab. For a long and quiet twenty or so minutes, I just watch my house burning while drinking my beer. Every once in awhile, I can here parts of the old building collapsing in on itself. Yet still, the Compound stands in defiance against the odds much the same way its former occupant always does. For how much longer, I don’t know.

Above my head, I can hear more bombers flying in. I don’t know if the Ares Project commanders know it or not, but something is coming for them. Being a fly boy myself, I can hear the distinction between fighter jets and bombers. I can only assume the Americans are inbound.

Sitting there in my silence and solitude as I drink my beer, I hear a twig crack and out of instinct, I draw my weapon. Just as I do so, I hear a series of explosions coming from the direction of the Long Island Sound. Turning my head toward the tree line to take a look, I can see the remnants of a couple fireballs as they dissipate into the dark sky. Moments later, the sound of moaning steel carries itself from the water to me as the waves begin to swallow one of my enemies ships.

”Hey,” Jim says, startling me for a moment.

”Hey,” I say to him as I return my attention to whatever the hell is going on out on the water. ”What the hell is goin’ on out there?”

”The American Navy is going on out there,” Jim says with a smile as he too climbs into the bed of the pickup and I hand him a beer. ”The Ares Project knew they were coming, and tried to get out of American waters before they arrived. That’s why they retreated so suddenly. The Americans fired warning shots but they couldn’t get out fast enough.

“They just sunk one of the Ares Project’s ships.”

”Nice!” I say before taking a swallow.

”I can’t believe she’s still standing,” Jim says referring to the house before taking a drink. ”Or maybe I can, I’m not real sure.”

”Yeah, she’s comin’ down,” I tell him as something more collapses inside.

”I mean, we could try and save her,” he suggests.

Overhead, I notice a couple streaks of light pass over. Looking up, a couple explosions can be heard as a crippled bomber flies over and crashes into the ground on the other side of the house. The fighter responsible does a slow circle over the property, tipping his wing toward me before flying off. It’s a symbolic gesture, like the tip of a cap, from one air man to another.

”I dunno man, they fucked her up good this time.”

”If not for the bombs overhead, she might’ve survived this one too, no?”

Without saying anything, I just nod my head and take another drink. Amid the silence, Jim and I both eventually fall asleep as we watch and listen to the house crumbling ever so slowly.

As night turns to day with the breaking dawn, a crow lands on the bedside of the truck and squawks at me, waking me from my slumber. Opening my eyes and wiping the sleep from them, I gaze across the lawn. Still standing and still burning from the inside out is the defiant ruins of a once great fortress. Leaning off of Jim, I nudge him awake.

”At least we didn’t miss its fall,” Jim says to me as he cracks one open and takes a drink.

Looking on for a few more minutes, I watch what’s left of my people trying desperately to control the blaze. Their efforts are futile but I respect it all the same. “Fall back!” I can hear someone yell from this distance and they scatter away from the building as a low rumbling can be heard and felt. A few seconds later, the flag pole atop the Compound plummets inward and the rest of the building follows it. Dust and debris fills the air where the big house once stood. All that remains now is a burning, smoldering pile of rubble and the now unattached but scarred throne room.

The task of defending my people begins anew. Their right to life and to exist on this planet among the other peaceful nations of the world will not be infringed and some time soon, I, together with my armed men and women will wipe the Ares Project from the face of the Earth… for good.

”How’d you get out mate?” Jim asks as he hands me a beer.

”I thought about not,” I answer while twisting off the cap before taking a long swallow. ”I stood in the hall thinking it’d be easier to just… let it happen.”

He looks at me with sadness in his face.

”We need to regroup… and fast, Jim.”

He nods in agreement.

”We’re spread way too thin man,” I tell him with a swallow of beer. ”Close half the bases and shift personnel to those that remain. Bases are to stay on high alert.”

”Right mate,” he replies as he finishes off his ‘breakfast.’

”I saw Asmodeus...” I tell him and he only looks at me. ”It’s the first time he showed up since Italy. He told me something and I’m… I’m not sure whether or not I believe it.”

”What’d he tell you?” he asks as I slide myself out of the bed of the truck and he follows suit.

”That my father isn’t my father,” I say with a pause. ”And I really don’t know what to do with that information. I have no way to prove or disprove it.”

”Mate if your father isn’t your father, then who is?” he asks as I start for the rubble pile that used to be my house.

”Do the math Jim,” I tell him as he hurries to catch up to me. ”Anyway, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about that revelation.”

”Sit on it,” he says as we reach the throne room doors as a few men are carrying out the dead Ares Project soldiers I gunned down last night. ”You said yourself you can neither prove nor disprove… so why let it eat you?”

Jim travels off to monitor clean up progress, leaving me alone again with my thoughts. I turn toward the throne itself and make my way toward the steps. Climbing them slowly, I place my hand on the arm of the old chair.

With a slight disturbance behind me, a *poof* if you will… I turn to find Cadryn Tiberius kneeling at the foot of the steps… next to Robert Main.

”Your Grace,” Cadryn says quickly, causing me to chuckle a little. ”Not sure you know this, but your castle is broken.”

”Tiberius, what are you even doin’ here?” I ask him as I plop my exhausted ass down in the throne. ”And what’s with this… Robert Main lookalike?”

”Dawk sent me,” he replies as he stands. ”From one King… to another. And Robert is… well… not so much a lookalike as he is a manifestation of Robert Main’s consciousness.”

”That mother fucker…” I cry out but I still can’t help but smile a little. Sure, my world may be crumbling, but Louis is showing his loyalty.

”First things first… you have to move into Gravy’s basement.”

”What?”

”I don’t make the rules,” he says. ”But Gravy’s basement is Robert Main kryptonite.”

”Cadryn?” I say as I stand from the throne and make my way down to eyeball this manifested Robert Main, who is indeed NOT the actual Robert Main.

”Yeah?”

”I… am Robert Main kryptonite,” I say to him while looking Robert in the face. ”Well, me and Robert Main himself.”

”What are you saying?” he asks as he takes a step up the stairs. ”That all this time my life has been a lie? That I didn’t have to live in Gravy’s basement to beat Robert Main?”

”Do you know how many people have beaten Robert Main more than once?” I ask as I return up the stairs and plop back down in the chair.

”No.”

”Neither do I but the number can probably be counted on one hand… and I can relate. The difference though is he can’t claim to have beat me before, but I can because I have. And on Warfare, I’ll do it again.

“You beating Robert Main is ancient history,” I say to him and he scrunches up his face.

”True but it caused his first...” his voice trails off as he uses finger quotes. ””Vacation.””

”He does like vacations doesn’t he?”

Cadryn nods in agreement and takes a seat on the floor beside the throne.

”Especially when he’s filled with a false confidence and gets got,” Tiberius nods again. ”Mind if I cut a promo?”

”Not at all,” he says with a poof. Looking over at him, he now holds a bowl of orange colored cereal. Beside him, a box of Omega O’s. ”It’s your house,” he says before taking a bite. ”Well, what’s left of it.”

”How do those taste?”

”Ummm,” he considers as he chews. ”Pretty bland. Kinda like Cheerios, but with less flavor. 1/10. Will not buy again.”

”Look at you,” I say, returning my attention to the manifestation of Robert Main, that again, is not the actual Robert Main. That’d be ridiculous. Cadryn apparently plays many instruments too as the Rains of Castamere fall upon the head of “Robert Main.”

”These last two weeks have been like watching reality set in on you in real time. The realization that as good as you are or as good as you were, it was never quite as good as you thought, was it? The reality is really so much different. Maybe when Thunder Knuckles split your skull, you should have retired. Instead you came back to reassert your dominance and again, look at you Robert. All these years later and the foundation you built for yourself that you thought was impenetrable has crumbled and you’re looking around for answers.

“You look around and wonder why someone you beat in the past, you can’t beat anymore.

“You look at this flashy, arrogant kid and think there’s no way he’s tougher than you when the reality of the situation you find yourself in Robert, is that despite how I look, I’m pretty fucking excellent at kicking ass. I don’t need your acknowledgment to know that’s the absolute truth.

“Receipts are filler now, thanks for the update Robert. I mean, I’m not the one that said Doc carried me, you are. So… like… I was disproving that by showing receipts. Following along yet Robert? That match was contested and won within the parameters set forth by management. Your loss is still a loss and there’s no asterisk attached. So keep bellying up to the excuse table man. And you weren’t occupied… I dumped your ass over the top and I took the win for myself.

“It’s a good thing I showed those receipts. No matter how lazy you think it is, because you were there and you still don’t remember how it all ended.

“Promoing for a match is now considered flooding. Words of wisdom from the late, great Robert Main. He thinks I was trying to intimidate him by doing my job. Listen Robert, I know I’m wordy. I know I fill my promos with layers upon layers of Thaddeus Duke that are just too strenuous for you to wrap your feeble little mind around. If that scares you, if that makes you think twice about you wanting this match… then that’s your problem. Not mine.

“Despite my rigorous schedule Robert, I had a plan for you. Which, judging by your own promos, you clearly had no such plan for me. I had a plan to set this match in motion. I had a plan to attack you the way I did. I had a plan to verbally castrate you from the word go. I’ve stuck to it, and watched that plan come to fruition while watching you figuratively shit the bed which, incidentally, you are making an art form unto itself.

“You? You just shake the tree to see what comes out, hoping it doesn’t bust you over the head. Yet here I am, verbally busting your balls. Your knees. Your skull. Everything. And you have nothing but baseless tough guy talk that doesn’t get you anywhere. Nothing but empty claims of me underestimating you when its clear as daylight that I’m appropriately estimating you while you have obviously underestimated me from the beginning.

“Projection. What a wonderful tool for the unintelligent.

“Speaking of lazy… touching walls that need not be touched… is lazy. Bitching behind a computer? C’mon Robert… even you are better than that. But that’s where the frustrated go when they know that all of their shit talk... is actual shit and they’re having their ass figuratively gift wrapped and handed back to them.

“He says my piece of tin… and I’ve acknowledged that it is exactly that… doesn’t mean anything because I haven’t beat anyone for it. Maybe that’s true in a sense, but I’ve faced anyone that challenged me for it. And I’ve beat them. On Warfare, the prestige of the title I hold will undoubtedly rise substantially when I beat Robert Main 1,2,3 in the center of my ring to retain my piece of tin that I’ve only just begun restoring.

“The wrong direction? Me being Hart Champion isn’t a direction. I said before if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself. Ned Kaye was a disappointment as Hart Champion so I needed to rectify that situation. Me being the Hart Champion was a missed stop on the way to the top and once my scheduled cleared up a bit, it was always a goal to go back and restore the prestige of this once great title and Robert, you may be the greatest Hart Champion of all time so I’ll ask you… when I beat you and successfully defend my piece of tin, is it still worthless? Or does it mean something again?

“He’s offended that I called out his barely one match per month schedule. I found out, he’s a huge fan of revisionist history. He claims to be double booked half of 2020 while simultaneously chastising me for “looking into the past.” Thing is, if you’re gonna revisit history… don’t do it against someone that doesn’t mind taking ten minutes to look into those claims.

“A year has 12 months and the man had 15 matches. He was double booked a total of four times IF you count War Games. IF you count separate nights for Relentless… and if you do, then I was triple booked at Relentless so suck it bitch boy. And of course, things get complicated because he never actually made it to his final double booking did he? Nah he lost his belt in a fucking hallway.

“Three double bookings in six months. 15 matches in a year… such the rigorous schedule that he defends so much like he’s gods gift to a wrestling ring.

“Robert Main. Dominant once, but no longer. After claiming I was backpedaling out of a confrontation with him, he now says I did in fact want this match but only because he’s in a vulnerable spot in his career. I don’t care where he is in his career. If Robert Main is vulnerable, he’s the one that put himself there. He bit off more than he could possibly chew and now reality is setting in for him.

“What does Thaddeus Duke beating Robert Main do? Do I need this win to assert my spot? To establish myself? I don’t need it, but I’m damn sure taking it because I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired of Robert Main being his own biggest fucking fan while refusing to acknowledge there are other talented competitors that are a part of this roster. You know, those same ones he in a roundabout way accuses me of holding down as if I had any power whatsoever behind the curtain.

“What does Robert Main beating me do for him? It saves him from the catastrophic personal meltdown and a six month vacation to, I don’t know, maybe find the real Robert Main. Thing is, this is the real Robert Main. Lock, stock, and barrel this is exactly who and what he’s always been. Absolutely NOTHING is different about him. He’s not vulnerable from injuries or a rigorous schedule. He’s vulnerable because he’s finding out that the XWF roster is exactly what I said it was: too strong for him to be the dominant Robert Main that he grew accustomed to.

“And now we’ve come full circle, haven’t we? Robert Main stands on shaky ground at best and staring down the barrel of his… what’s the phrase?” Thad take a look at Cadryn in a moment of thought. Cadryn shrugs though as he polishes off his Omega O’s. ”Reality check.”

Standing from the throne, I slowly make my way down the steps toward “Robert Main.” ”Like the lyrics suggest Robert,” I say, placing my hand on his shoulder. ”A coat of gold, or a coat of red… a lion still has claws.”

“Robert Main” looks over at me. ”Kneel.” He kneels, now looking up at me.

”Cadryn, you remember the scene in Thrones when Joffrey takes the throne and that tavern singer sings the new King a song that mocks Robert’s death?”

”I do remember,” he answers.

”You’ll have to ad-lib some lyrics to make it fit, but… sing us that song, would you?”

*Poof* comes the woodharp.

”And the beasts ego was every bit as fat as Robert’s was himself…”

”Hey!”

[cad]”Sorry.

“Robert lost his battle and he failed his final test.

“The Liiiion riiipped his ballllls off annnnd the bore did all the rest.”

”Thank you for poofing by Cadryn,” I say over my shoulder with my eyes still locked on Robert’s.

”I’m your jester!”

Cadryn poofs back from whence he came leaving me alone with the manifestation of Robert Main that again and for the final time, is not the actual Robert Main.

”It seems we’re nearing the end of our journey,” I say to Robert and he nods in agreement. ”You know what happens to the old workhorses that just can’t do it anymore? They’re taken out back and shot. Do you understand what’s happened here Robert?”

He nods, confirming that he does.

”Somehow I doubt it. What’s happened here is that you wanted this as much as I did. You wanted it so you could shut my mouth. You wanted it to prove you still got the juice to do this. You wanted it mostly… because you don’t respect me in any way shape or form and you thought you could walk all over me.

“What happened, is that I’ve exposed you for the fraud you are and the fraud you’ve always been. What happened, is that I wanted this match to prove a point: that I’m better than you. In a tag match, its easy to point fingers and say this thing or that thing cost me. I mean, you even tried that tactic. But one on one? With no interference? With no weapons? There are no excuses.

“The winner wins.

“The loser loses.

“Your time is up Robert. You just don’t know it yet.”

Pulling my Desert Eagle from my thigh holster, I put a bullet between the eyes of “Robert Main.” He stares blankly for a second, before falling dead on the floor.

”A smarter man than you saw this coming Robert.

“Who’s your daddy Robert Main?”

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode Ares Rising - Part III: RP 3
Author	Message