King's. A bar located in one of the most trendiest of neighborhoods in New York City. Owned by Axle King aka Bullet, an advanced human with the gift of incredible speed, a former XWF flash in the pan superstar and close friend to the one and only, man from the stars... Azrael Erebus. The two formed a friendship, many moons ago. Though, you fine folks are only becoming aware of it now because... well, there's really no actual good reason for that. It's quite mundane and ordinary. Merely timing and the XWF camera ninjas, dropping the proverbial ball. Sort of like the match to end all matches not happening till now. D'Ville vs Erebus. Sure, they had faced each other, a long while back, but it was at a lame house show of all places. A house show? Really? Who the fuck came up with that poor choice? The answer isn't certain but most assuredly the blame can fall upon that loser, drug addict and former general manager of the XWF, Giovanni Ferrari. Remember that guy? Running around, barely with enough good senses to keep track of his own pants. How he became a general manager for the XWF is well beyond anyone's legitimate, sober guess.


There was a rumor that he simply showed up one day and started sleeping under the wrestling ring. Shane just let him think that he was in charge cause he couldn't find anyone that was willing to throw a net over the guy and eject him from the arena. Yeah, this was back when Warfare was filmed in the same set location. What a nightmare that was! The show took place in a dungeon under an old, dilapidated factory full of so many safety violations, it's a wonder that people attended the show and were able to survive the experience. However, they did and went on to sustain, normal, somewhat healthy lives, afterwards. The War Room; however, was shut down after just two years of operations and Giovanni Ferrari disappeared. Although, it's pretty safe to assume he's either dead or locked up in some third world country's prison. Whatever. His whereabouts are irrelevant. What's relevant is the fact that Azrael Erebus is sitting on a bar stool in King's, having a conversation with the bar's zealous owner/former over-hyped, wrestling sensation, Axle King. It's okay if you don't remember the guy. Actually, it's probably best if you don't.





Taking a sip from his glass of scotch, Azrael turns his attention towards the television that's mounted on the wall behind the bar. A bright colorful ad boasting the fact that Azrael and Dr. D'Ville were going to meet in the ring on Wednesday, June 20th, flashes across the screen. Prompting a sigh from the spaceman. D'Ville, there was almost a dark, malevolent, sinister, ominous element to the elderly gentleman, that always seemed to shake and unsettle Azrael, down to his very core. Stating that he was an older fellow really didn't seem right though. Seeing that the man from the stars was 1428 years old. An ancient universe traveler and explorer of the galaxy, he scarcely resembled someone that was thirty years of age. Drastically younger than what the good doctor appeared to be and yet, the more Azrael thought about it, the more he realized that D'Ville had an ancient quality of his own. A dark, distant almost primordial essence that lingered past his gaze and seethed within his very being. This was not an ordinary man.


Still, he was Azrael's opponent for the next edition of Warfare. Would the spaceman be ready to face him? Again? Really their first battle was hardly anything to mention. D'Ville had bested the spaceman but few would ever go on to mention or even remember that fact. This time would be different though. This time... the battle would go down in epic proportions. Unrealistically supernatural in nature and chock full of trace elements, that would have the entire arena questioning reality for days to come after the battle occurred. The kind of fight that would only take place in fairy tales and comic books. Goliath vs Xanatos. Wolverine vs Magneto. Superman vs Darkseid. The Hobgoblin vs Spider-Man. Atreyu vs Gmork. Silver Surfer vs Galactus.


"Hey, Earth to Azrael. Come in spaceman, can you hear me?"


Axle King waved his hand abruptly in front of Azrael's eyes and the spaceman recoiled backwards as he blinked.


"What? What is it, Axle?"


Another sip of scotch. Then a retrieved cigar from his suit jacket's pocket. A cigar that was instantly lit as soon as Azrael placed it between his lips. Drawing a pull from it, he smirked at Axle's swift negative reaction.


"I suppose telling you that there's no smoking in the bar, would be a tad redundant, right?"


Axle turned to point at the very blatant and bold "No Smoking" sign but stopped short when he observed that the sign now read "Yes, Smoking!" instead. Turning his attention back to Azrael, the charismatic bartender laughed to himself and decided it was best to drop the subject of smoking altogether. He was dealing with Azrael after all. It was a bit hard to win a debate with a man who could snap his fingers and pretty much make anything happen.


"Did you happen to hear anything that I was saying, when you were gazing off into the distance, day dreaming of D'Ville?"


A cloud of smoke and another pull from his cigar.


"I was not day dreaming about D'Ville. I was contemplating our shared upcoming fight. Really, this battle should have happened four years ago but leave it to management to drop the ball on that happening. It's the only consistent quality that they're able to produce. Failing and dropping the ball. I thought things were bad when that broken brained, drug addict Giovanni Ferrari, was a general manager. Now with Vincent Lane at the sinking ship's helm, it's somehow even worse. How can he possibly do things worse than that crackpot - Giovanni Ferrari? How? Seriously what's next? Give the general manager position to Maverick? Or that loser Drezdin? Or better yet, simply hand the task over to a potato, or a shit filled condom. I'm sure Shane , would be just over the moon with happiness, if a shit filled condom was the new general manager."


A long swallow of scotch.


"You sound annoyed. Is this cause you lost the Bombshell title to that little Japanese girl? How the heck did you let that happen? What is she like 17 years old? She could probably fit into one of your trouser legs. Your hand is literally bigger than her entire head. Yet you lost to her. How does that happen? How does that happen and then you get to face a legend like D'Ville? It's not right. But that's the logic fueling the folks in charge of the XWF. I'm glad I got out of there before they made me do something really ridiculous or embarrassing"


"You mean like facing Wyatt Reyno..."


"Don't say it."


Azrael chuckled and left it at that. The person he was about to name wasn't of importance anyway. Just a random racist, douchebag that wrestled for the XWF and slightly resembled the dude from the film Zombieland. Axle lost the match and then disappeared shortly after. Never to be seen again by XWF fans until... well, until now.


"Anyway, like I was asking, how did you lose the Bombshell title to that very, small, Asian girl?"


"She used magic."


"Don't you always say that you're immune to Earth bound magic?"


"She wasn't using regular Earth bound magic. I think she looked into acquiring skills from other sources."


"Other sources? You mean like... space magic?"


Axle laughed and shook his head.


"Maybe. I'm not sure. All I know is that she was prepared, like no other mortal has been able to prepare themselves, when facing me. Well, no one other than Alister Dante. He's a rare exception though."


"How is Templar these days?"


Templar and Alister Dante, were one and the same. A shared close friend of Axle and Azrael, he was considered a master of the light and dark arts. A holy man and ally, in the fight against evil.


"Good. Still working for the Cardinal in Rome, studying the good word of the lord and keeping the streets safe at night, with his unique brand of magic and fighting skills."


"Think he'll ever return to New York?"


"Possibly. Though now that D'Ville has come back to the XWF, there's a better chance of it happening. Just carrying out the lord's will, as he'd call it and eradicating the darkness of the world, one evil entity at a time."


A sip of scotch.


"You don't really think D'Ville is the prince of darkness, himself, do you?"


"I'm willing to take that explanation over him merely being a good doctor. There's definitely something wicked, dare I say evil and off-putting about the man. Every time that I've encountered him, I've always been overcome by a sensation of... dread. When he looks at me, it's almost like he's peering right through me. Like I'm transparent in the wake of his gaze. I feel almost as if he knows things that few would know. Like he can see my deepest, darkest secrets. Stuff that I don't even admit to myself and other things that I believed were buried, in the dust of my past. No doubt he knows that I'm still married to Orion and that achieving a separation from him is impossible."


"Yeah... why is that impossible again?"


"Divorce is illegal on Ozuul and on top of that, Orion is the ruler of the High Council. I haven't seen him in years and we are far from close but he still hangs the marriage over me, like it's some sort of guillotine blade. I never know when it's going to drop or what he'll use it for, in order to force me into agreeing to something awful."


An extended pull from his cigar.


"Sounds fun. And by fun, I mean it sounds totally shitty. That means, if he wanted to, Orion could walk into this bar and basically force you, into committing whatever act or deed, that he wanted you to do. You're basically under his constant thumb."


"That's the general idea. Yes. Although, that hasn't happened in years. I'm fairly certain it'll more than likely never happen again, but there's always the chance that it might. He'll piss off the wrong beings and I'll have to come along and save the day. Form an alliance with a war starved race just so he can use them. Walk into sure fire destruction and get taken out in a fiery, brutal death. I can come back to life but that doesn't mean that it doesn't suck for me to die."


"And D'Ville is the one that unnerves you?"


"Yep."


"You're logic never ceases to amaze me, spaceman."


"It never ceases to amaze me either. Such is the real struggle of being the spaceman."


"Did you ever figure out who trapped you inside of that gold rock?"


"Nope."


"Well as long as you've got your priorities set straight."


"I'm focused primarily on my upcoming match. I'm also certain the rest will eventually sort itself out. Meaning, I'll figure out the answers for my past imprisonment, soon enough."


"Did you manage to catch D'Ville's promo?"


"Oh absolutely, I did. He thinks he's going to make me cry. How ludicrous is that idea? That he's somehow going to make me bleed. Which naturally can happen, since I'm a living being. Of course I can bleed. However, it's a feat not easily accomplished. I've survived experiences well beyond the fights that go on in the XWF. I went to war when I was 15 years old and saved my homeworld from the Grendal. I fought for five years and thwarted their attempts at enslaving my kind. Not to mention the fact that, I've literally died and returned to life on numerous occasions. I've imploded. Detonated like a living bomb. Then reformed out of nothing more than mere atoms and particles, stronger than I was before the explosion occurred. Somehow, he thinks that after I've been through all of that and then some, he's going to break me. Please, don't be ridiculous."


"You did lose to Nyx."


"Yeah, that did happen but I also never really wanted to be the Bombshell champion. So my heart wasn't in the match. I didn't care what happened as far as that title was concerned. Now Nyx Nephthys is the Bombshell champion, so what? Who cares? As I've mentioned before, I'm not into titles, they're nothing more than trinkets to me. Bits of gold and leather. Nothing more, nothing less."


"Right. You don't expect me to buy that bullshit, do you?"


"Believe what you want."


"Fine, I will. I think you're more than likely going to wind up crying. Like straight up bawling your eyes out."


Axle practically dissolved into laughter. He was fucking with the spaceman.


"You're all heart, you know that, Axle."


"Hey, I'm just calling it like I see it. If a tiny, Japanese witch can bring you down, clearly D'Ville can do the same thing. It makes perfect sense."


"This coming from the guy that couldn't last for more than a month in the XWF. How many matches did you have? Two? Wow. Really impressive stuff. You clearly know what you're talking about."


Azrael snickered as he snuffed out his cigar in an ashtray that appeared on the bar, out of nowhere.


"So what. I own this bar. This work is way more fulfilling than wrestling ever was. Plus, I help people now. Or do you somehow think that I could wrestle, run a bar and patrol the city at night as Bullet."


"I wrestle and patrol the city at night. Heck, I travel the universe and traverse through other dimensions. I can bend reality to my will and fight otherworldly beasties, on a regular basis. Do you hear me complaining or saying that I can't hack the grueling, thankless job. Do I ever ask if I can take the night off? No, I don't. I strive and I fight, never once stopping and saying that I can't do it. I put myself on the line and for what? To help humans and beings that dare to shame or provoke me. Yet, I still do it. Do you think Vinnie Lane, realizes how many times his race could have been obliterated? Does Shane understand that his kind could have been utterly wiped out on several occasions? That I stepped up and saved the planet and its people, time and time again? No, no one realizes that. They simply mock me and talk shit. D'Ville, has no idea what he's going up against, if he thinks that he'll make me bleed. If he truly believes that he can make me cry. No way is that happening. I've lived too long and fought too hard to allow such a thing to take place. Even if he beats me in combat, there's no chance that he'll cause me to cry. I'll die before that happens. Mark my words, Axle. My body will cease to function before he ever rips tears from these eyes."


"Chill out, Azrael. I was just messing with you. I think you'll wipe the floor with that old fart, Dr. D'Ville."


Axle refilled Azrael's glass with scotch. While this happened, the front door to King's swung open and Abigail Monroe, walked into the bar. A broad smile accenting her face, she walked up to the spaceman and took a seat next to him.


"Guess what."


Abigail stated excitedly, her smile practically lighting up the entire bar.


"What?"


"I've met someone."


T.B.C.

2x Universal Champion (First reign was less than a day though, lol. Due to Sebastian Duke cashing in his briefcase.)
2x Tag Team Champion
3x Triple Tag Team Champion
1x Television Champion
2x US Champion (Title retired during my second reign as champ.)
2x X-Treme Champion
1x Bombshell Champion
2x HMW Champion
2x SOTM