Friday, February 14, 2014 – 6:02 AM EST – Asmodeus' Cottage – Old Saybrook, Connecticut



So much has changed over the last month. It's finally come out that I've still been part of the Black Circle and I'm happy to be back home. Shane 's untimely death set forth a series of events within the Xtreme Wrestling Federation that will not be stopped. The first of those strategic maneuvers, was to show the world where my allegiance was.

Shane may not have been the most loyal person on the planet, but he did something right when he chose, John, Nathaniel and I to be his the Black Circle. While it is true that the Black Circle has been around for more than a decade, in our minds, WE are the originals. Why? It's really quite simple.

None of us ever abandoned our leader. Whether we agreed or disagreed with his decisions was a moot point. We were loyal foot soldiers doing his bidding until the very end. Except it's not the end. Evidenced by the video that played on Madness a few weeks ago. Shane sending a message to John Madison from beyond the grave. Sending the message to put the pieces back together again. To ensure the survival of his the Black Circle.

Some may ask, now that I'm back home with the Black Circle, what does that mean for my Brotherhood? What does that mean for Steve Davids?

If you're asking or wondering, then here are your answers. The Brotherhood was never anything more than a smoke screen. Big, bad, angry Sebastian Duke joining forces with others in order to bring down the Black Circle. Does that sound like me? I didn't think so.

Egyptian Snow Pharaoh was right. At least partially. When she debuted and had me attacked and shot with arrows, she claimed I was no-selling, whatever that means, and still working for the Black Circle. Conspiring with Shane and John Madison from the beginning.

I think it's obvious, at least now, that I was indeed working for Shane even when your eyes tell you something to the contrary. It should have been no surprise. Peter Gilmour will claim he knew it all along. That dumb bastard doesn't know anything except where the chicken parmesan is on the buffet table.

As for Steve Davids, he'll be fine on his own. He proved himself to be a loyal foot soldier to me in his own right. His loyalty will not be forgotten. I've done all I can for him and he's done all he can for me. Steve Davids is a man that is on the brink of stardom.

From the shadows, I'll continue to watch him. I'm sure he'll continue to impress me. He has not failed yet. Where most consider a loss a failure, I do not. I've taught Steve Davids that a loss is nothing more than a learning experience. A lesson in what not to do next time. Under my tutelage, he's suffered fewer losses and I take great pride in that. The best is yet to come for him.




I take my time as I think about all of this. I take my time as I trudge through the snow from the Compound over to Asmodeus' cottage. Once I reach the small abode, I open the front door and enter without knocking. My father sits in his favorite chair near the fire. In his hands, a small white paper object. A postcard, perhaps a photograph even. He's staring so intensely at whatever he's holding, he doesn't even realize I'm there.



SEBASTIAN DUKE: “What you got there?”



Asmodeus is startled. He quickly places whatever it is that he's holding into the drawer of the end table beside him and slams it shut.



ASMODEUS: “Nothing.”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “It didn't look like nothing.”



I advance my position closer to him.



SEBASTIAN DUKE: “What was it, Dad?”

ASMODEUS: “Just an old photograph, son. Nothing more.”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Can I see it?”



Without waiting for his response I step even closer and open the drawer and take out the photo.



ASMODEUS: “No, son. I don't think it's.... Okay, you're doing it anyway.”



I stare at the photograph and can't help but smile slightly.



SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Who is in the photo?”

ASMODEUS: “No one.”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “If it's no one, why were you staring at it so deeply that you didn't even notice I walked in?”



He gets up from his chair with the help from his cane.



ASMODEUS: “Is the eye patch really necessary?”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Stop deflecting. Dad, who is in this picture?”



The reality of the situation is, I already know who it is that's in this photograph. It's a small boy. Maybe six years of age. The photo itself is probably twenty years old. Maybe a little more, maybe a little less.

Asmodeus hangs his can on the mantle and rubs his hand together near the fir to warm them up.



SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Answer me!”



In retrospect, that might have been a little harsh. He turns his head toward me, a look of intense anger adorns his face. He grabs his cane off the mantle and turns around to face me. He begins to approach me. He holds his cane in his right hand but does not use it to aid his walking. Instead, he smacks me upside my head with the hard cherry wood cane.

It hurt.

I rub the side of my head with my left hand. A small knot already forming.



ASMODEUS: “YOU DO NOT ORDER ME... SON!”



He retreats back to his chair.



ASMODEUS: “Whoever is in that photograph, is not your concern.”



I plop down on the sofa and cross my feet on his coffee table.



ASMODEUS: “Sebastian, get your feet off that table.”



I do as he orders. I'm not sure why I do the things I do that test his patience. As much as the cane shot to the head hurt, it was still entertaining to me to watch him lose his composure.



SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Dad, what if I told you I know who is in that picture?”

ASMODEUS: “I'd call you a liar. There's no possible way...”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “He's your son.”



He falls silent for several seconds. Maybe even a few minutes. I look around and realize for the first time, that the old man doesn't have any clocks. Who the hell doesn't have at least one clock somewhere?

Asmodeus. Asmodeus has no clocks.



ASMODEUS: “Son, I assure you, you have no idea what you're talk...”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “You had an affair with a woman in the mid to late 80's.”



He sits in a stunned silence.



SEBASTIAN DUKE: “I've known about it for years, Dad.”

ASMODEUS: “How... How could you know?”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “I'm the King of fucking Darkness. I lurk in the...”

ASMODEUS: “Yeah, yeah. Shadows, darkness, fire, whatever. How do you know?”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “I found the picture years ago, Dad. My curiosity reached a fever pitch and I had to know. So, I put Matthew on it. I had the photo copied and Matthew ran it through his facial recognition software and I found out who it was.”

ASMODEUS: “That doesn't explain how you know about the affair or that he's my son.”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Once we found out his identity, we did some checking. The rest of the pieces fell into place. Since you only ever keep photos of family, it was a safe assumption.”



He sits silently again.



ASMODEUS: “Can we change the subject?”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “To what?”

ASMODEUS: “Anything but this. I beg you.”



He's getting emotional now. It's not something he does often. When he does, it's pretty serious.



ASMODEUS: “That apprentice of yours. How are things with that?”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “It's funny you should ask that. How bout you come see for yourself.”

ASMODEUS: “Why?”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Well. I just want you to see for yourself, Dad.”



We begin making our way up to the Compound. As we do, I start talking about the photo again.



To Be Continued...