Before…

I know how this works. Corey uttered to the figure in the Red Death costume before him.

The room they were in was a return to the ornate trappings of the first two rooms. This looked like a royal parlor, with orange tinted gilding all over the walls, golden cloth partitions and banners flowing freely, and orange or auburn plush furniture dotting the scene.

The Red Death was seated calmly in a high backed chair in the center of the room. One leg crossed over the other, demure and unopposed despite the circumstances.

How does this work, Corey Smith?

Corey paced, anger and frustration untapped and waiting within. Like how all these stupid fucking vision quests work. Who’s behind this one? Doc? Did somebody dig up The Baphomet’s corpse and give him the power of the spooky-doo again? You know what, it doesn’t matter. Because I know who you are. I know how this ends. Corey gestures at the ghastly figure. Take the mask off, Thad.

The Red Death doesn’t move or reply. He uncrosses his legs and cants his head a bit, allowing the silence to linger like a filmy haze.

…what?

You think I’m Thaddeus Duke.

Yeah.

Then you don’t know yourself that well. He leans in a bit. I’m hungrier than Thad. I HATE you more than Thad. Turn your ass around Corey Smith.

Corey casts a glance over his shoulder, and is stunned to see Thad Duke, or some ghostly facsimile thereof, standing behind him. Thad lifts a finger to his lips, the universal sign for “shhhh”, as Corey backpedals from him.

You’re playing your cathartic trump card early, asshole. Thad was supposed to be at the end.

I disagree.

Yeah, well…. Corey chanced at glance at the Red Death, but he was gone. Then, retraining his sights on Thad, he continues. Fuckin’ sick of this shit…. He spreads his arms out wide in a challenging stance. Come on, Thad! You gonna do something! Or is this the part where I wake up?!

Thad’s face breaks into a grin.

Yeah, hilarious. Corey’s body tenses. You know what, Duke? I gotta say one thing for you. You grew me up real fast. All that stuff I went through with Lux, and The Engineer, all that unfettered bullshit insanity…but it wasn’t until my best friend kicked me in the head that I finally grew up. You killed the last shard of naivete I had left in me. You proud of that?

Duke nods his head slowly.

Of course you are. You going to stand there mute or you got something to say?

Thad starts to laugh. A sour chuckle hitches in Corey’s throat. He shakes his head disdainfully. Laugh it up, Duke Nation. But instead, Duke settles, his face becoming more placid. The former friends simply stood and studied each other for a moment, before Thad lunged for Corey and…embraced him in a hug?

Dude, get…! Core started, pushing back against Thad. But not too hard. No, not too hard. Because it felt right. It felt good. It felt like this was where Corey Smith had to be. Slowly, Corey raised his arms up to encircle Thad’s back. But before he could reach it, Thad leaned in and planted a kiss on Corey’s lips! Corey allowed himself a gasp of surprise, which almost immediately became a gasp of pain. Thad quickly disentangled himself from Corey, and Corey’s hand went to the bloody smear that was developing on his bottom lip. You bit me?

Thad smiled again, and a sluice of blood ran freely out of his mouth. The effect was like the first font of crimson from a slit throat. And with that flow of blood, he pushed a razor blade past his lips with his tongue.

You fucker! Corey railed, but he didn’t advance. Thad’s smile grew wider and wider yet, until it became an unnatural, terrible thing. Thad! Corey cried out as the flesh of Duke’s cheeks began to separate and the jaws parted ever wider. Inside Duke’s mouth was a whorl of more more razor blades, a pulverizing storm of serrated edges that made Corey reel back in horror. Finally, the grin became so huge Duke’s jaws completely tore asunder, the top of his head lolling backwards like a drunken steward. Corey cried out again, jogging backwards, desperate to put as much distance as he could between himself and this monstrosity. He almost plunged headlong into the door to the adjoining room, which he tears open hungrily only to find himself in….

….the White Room.

BONG

BONG

There was that damndable clock again, even though it was even remotely in sight anymore.

At first, the room seemed like nothing but a blinding absence, like a high noon sun glinting off a tundra. But soon, details began to emerge. Improbably, a stark white tree grew from the white laminate flooring. In all directions the room seemed to have no end, no horizon. Just a ceaseless, fog like paleness.

When he returned his attention to the tree, he tensed as a figure stepped out from behind it. Slim, youthful, with a dash of bronze in his skin tone and a moppy head of hair. Corey gasped.

Joachim…?!

Now…

We see Corey Smith pushing a cart along some metal shelving chock full of candy displays. It looks like one of those big box membership stores where you can buy mayonnaise by the gallon for some reason. At any rate, Corey seems to be carefully considering a couple different brands of candy, before he shrugs, stuffs his arm behind both candy displays and dumps the whole thing in the cart.

Oh! Hey, don’t mind me. Just getting ready for the big day. I take Halloween very seriously at my house, in large part because Madison used to unleash packs of feral dogs on Trick or Treaters back when she owned it. I want to make it clear that my home is now a safe place for candy seekers of all ages. Below 14. Seriously teens, don’t be creepy.

Also, SPOILERS, I’m clearly okay after that hellacious experience at the Halloween party last week. I’m not going to stand here and say I wasn’t shaken up by it, but I’m making things right and ensuring…well…. He trails off. At any rate, Elijah Martin! Oh boy oh boy! Now here’s a man who’s willing to get right into the meat and pah-tay-tuhs!

Corey keeps ambling along with his cart, periodically reaching over to dump another whole display of candy into his cart.

And I gotta say Elijah, when I first started listening to what you had to say, I was JAZZED! Now here is a warrior poet, a sensitive soul (beneath a gruff exterior). A thinker. A philosopher! A man after my own heart. That treatise you gave on respect? C’est magnifique!

He stops the cart abruptly.

And then, after all that, you showed you have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about after all. Corey holds his fingers out an inch apart. You were so close! SO CLOSE! You said you can earn respect by being a good listener (yes!), not making excuses (yes, yes!), don’t talk shit about people (yes, yes, yes!), and being open to change (yaaaaaaassssss!). Corey pumps his fists in the air. You hit the nail on the head, partner! And you know what all those things have in common? They’re all signs that somebody is a decent person. Which is why it utterly CONFOUNDS me that you would take all that, throw it in the basura, and tell me you’re going to earn respect by beating some change into me.

HUH??!!

I mean, is anyone else confused here? Is it just me? Like, this guy went full 180 from being someone reasonable and dare I say it, DIFFERENT from the normal douchebag chaff that populates this sport, just to fall back into the tried and true, I’m gonna beat you until you respect me (and also somehow change you because LOL fuck reason). Elijah, did YOU have a stroke? I’m kind of an authority on that so if you need someone to talk to, uh, well, still talk to your doctor. Because I’m not one. Plus I don’t like you.

Allow me to clarify something. I don’t respect people BECAUSE they beat me up. My friend Thad beat me, and I still respected him, until he went full shit heel. Bobby Bourbon beat me up, but I don’t respect him because he’s an asshole. Unless he decided to not be one this week. It’s so hard to stay current with that guy!

You don’t automatically earn my respect because you beat me in the ring. You earn my respect by being a decent person who also just so happened to beat me in the ring. You can’t **EDWARD SMASH!** your way into being held in high esteem. There are plenty of people in the XWF who win, and win often, and still don’t have the respect of the locker room. Hell, there are a number of former Universal Champions whose names are still dog shit around here (Hi, Chris).

And that’s not even touching the fact that you think I’m some stranger to change being painful. You didn’t do your homework, did you? I told you to go look into my history, bubby, and if you had you’d know why you sound real, REAL dumb right now.

Like you, I’m a former addict. But I changed. My best friend, who also just so happened to live inside my head (GO LISTEN TO IT!), was cruelly ripped from me and destroyed, only to be replaced by a malevolent artificial intelligence who worshipped chaos and death, who was ultimately defeated by a guy who electrocuted and poisoned me, resulting in months of intensive therapy and surgery just so I could wipe my own ass again and I’m sorry you think I DON’T know how painful can change be?! Corey takes a breath after the run on. And by the way, my OTHER best friend (who doesn’t live in my head) just recently kicked me in the face because REASONS.

Ohhhhh yes painful change and I are WELL acquainted, thank YOU very much!

And I can guarantee you, there is no amount of change you can inflict on me that will even come within a taint hair’s breadth of being as awful, as painful, or as humiliating as the change I’ve already been through. You can threaten me with nothing. I fear NOTHING that you have to offer. So why don’t you do us all a favor and take you and your stilted expository dialogue and your “innovative” peek into a therapy jam session opener and FUCK RIGHT OFF!

Ohhh, you got me fired up! He bats another batch of candy into the cart, but this time half of it misses the cart and lands on the floor. I’ll pick it up, I promise.

I just can’t get over it, the sheer unmitigated gall of it. This motherfucker wants to lecture me on growth and evolution. As if I wasn’t some junkie at age 17 who now, at age 19, has started a commune catering to the homeless and underserved. And yeah, yeah, I’m going to toot my horn about that again because I’m proud of the work I do there! And no, it doesn’t abolish the sins I’ve committed in the past, but it’s a damn sight better than the selfish wastrel prick I used to be.

Have I changed enough for you, Elijah? Like you’re the only one who gets better and everyone else is just one beating away from being as righteous as you. Eat. My. Ass.

Corey looks over too late to see a mother “ear muffing” her young child and hurrying them away. Guiltstricken, Corey calls out to them. Ah! I’m sorry! I didn’t see you! How about free tickets to the next XWF sh-actually, that’s a terrible idea. Corey winces awkwardly and turns back to the camera. And another thing! I still want you to give us the lowdown on your employment status outside these doors. You have any affiliation with OCW? You looking to add yourself to that turd slurry mix of mediocres jumping our guys? I’d like to think you’re not that dumb, but… Corey makes a grand motion as if to say “all of this”.

You wanna wax existential with me again, Elijah? I’ll give you a redo at making a goddamn bit of sense. But don’t you dare imply I haven’t been through the shit and come out a new human. Now if you’ll excuse me I have some candy to pick up. Corey motions for the feed to cut as he bends low to clean up his mess.

Before….

Joachim Bright. Son of the legendary Dexter Bright, the first Engineer and longest reigning Universal champion of the modern era. Also, murder victim, whom Corey saw die with his own eyes.

Jo… Corey uttered again, incredulously, as he drew closer. Joachim smiled and held out his arms, ushering Corey in. Corey embraced him readily. You sure you’re not some kind of monster, because with the trend so far….

It’s just me, Corey. Not all your ghosts need to be terrible. They parted.

That’s a relief. Thad just hugged me and his mouth was full of razor blades.

I know. Joachim winced. It was pretty gnarly.

Joachim, what is this place? Why am I here?

Joachim bent down to pick up a fallen leaf from off the tree. The tree was nearly barren, still holding on to a fraction of it’s foliage. The leaves on the tree were also a chalky white, but the leaves on the ground were brilliant autumnal colors. Jo twirled his leaf around in his fingers absently as he spoke. I thought you knew. I was summoned here.

Corey sighed. Great….

Does it matter though? Eyes looking away from the leaf. There is something I want to talk to you about.

There’s about a MILLION things I’d love to talk to you about. So I’ll let brevity go first.

Do you remember the day I died, Corey?

Of course I do. His attention drifted to the skeletal branches above them. A leaf seemed to be working it’s way loose on a phantom breeze as they spoke.

I mean, do you REALLY remember it.

Corey looked confused. I don’t understand.

What color shirt was I wearing?

He stopped and considered the question. White, I think?

What was the temperature like in the arena? What did it sound like? What…

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Why are you doing this?

Do you find it unpleasant?

To trot out the minutia of the moment of your death? Yeah, just a bit!

Joachim let the leaf fall from his grasp. Everyone dies eventually Corey.

He shakes his head “no” with a certain fierceness. But YOU were too young. Too decent. You didn’t deserve that.

Do you blame yourself?

The question bit hard. Corey opened his mouth to answer, but then found he couldn’t.

I know you do. You still blame yourself for a lot of things. You carry a lot of weight on those shoulders of yours.

…can you blame me?

Joachim’s smile went solemn. No. But at a certain point you need to start relinquishing the past. Corey, what do you do now that is JUST for you, and no one else?

Corey shrugs. Kicking Thad Duke in the face?

Joachim chuckles. Besides that. He pauses for a beat. So much of you is rooted in your past. In death and disease and trauma. Corey, you won’t even let yourself pursue Alias because you want to see if he breaks my father’s record first!

What’s the problem with that?

The problem?! The problem is, “why wait?”

Corey becomes a touch frustrated. I’ve said it over and over why I’m waiting…

But I don’t think it’s the truth.

…huh?

I don’t think that’s why your waiting. Joachim reiterated, digging a toe into some fallen leaves. I think you’re reluctant because pursuing the Universal Champion is something you and only you want. I think you see it as the culmination of selfish desire that you’re not willing to pull the trigger on yet.

But I’ve won other titles.

Not Lux’s title. Joachim allowed that to percolate. Not the title that Lux won and had immediately stolen from her, I should say. Corey, I think a part of you just doesn’t want to be Universal Champion because you don’t feel like you deserve it. Because if Lux couldn’t have it, than what makes you so entitled to it? Am I getting warmer?

Corey looked uncertain. Again, his attention was brought to the pallid leaf above just barely holding on. I honestly don’t know.

Joachim held a hand out and touched Corey’s shoulder. The shirt I wore the day I died was blue.

Corey grimaced. Oh….

No. No, that’s okay. It’s okay to forget. Forgetting is natural. Letting go is natural. He paused. I see the expression on your face, Corey. But it’s not cruel to the one’s we lost. We can hold them in our hearts forever, but eventually the albatross of their tragedy has to be cast off.

“The albatross of their tragedy”.... Corey tried on the words for himself. Poetic.

Thanks. I’m capable of such feats from time to time.

The leaf broke free of it’s moringa, and Corey watch it fall. Watched as it gained color and vibrancy as it picked up speed, turning over and over and….


The sound and the fury came from out of nowhere. Corey’s ears buzzed, and as he came into his body once again, he realized he had been thrown clear of the tree, landing on his back some feet away.

The tree itself was now blackened and torn asunder, as though ripped in half by some malevolent deific force. That may not have been far from the mark actually, as it appeared the tree was struck down by a lightning bolt. The air around him still crackled, and Corey could feel the goosebumps standing at attention on his flesh. And then, he remembered…

Oh God, Joachim?! Hey, where are you?! With a pained grunt, Corey got to his feet. Jo! Please tell me you’re alright!

But Joachim was gone, and to Corey’s horror the vast paleness that had surrounded them was, like the tree, starting to blacken and char.

*BONG*

The clock struck one final time. And Corey knew he had reached the end. The void was all around him, infinite darkness expanding into eternity. Even the ground beneath his feet had become an inchoate blackness as the final swirls of white continued to diminish.

He looked up at the broken tree, and there sat the Red Death in the crook, using the tree as a throne of sorts. What dictates would this phantom proscribe? Corey marched resolutely towards the final confrontation.