You think you know the difference between good and evil, don’t you?

Thrax cocked his head to the side as he inspected the dusty skull in the palm of his left hand. Thrax nodded begrudgingly at the skeletal remnant before leaning forward in his peculiar throne. A few rays of light poke through the dark scenery from above.

I thought I did, too.

But what if we’ve been wrong this whole time, you and I? What if we really can’t tell right from wrong? What if we could never tell good from evil? What if, in our sick and twisted minds, the very measurements we use to quantify ‘the greater good’ are themselves tools of evil?

Thrax leaned back in his boney chair as he raised what was left of his eyebrow at the skull. The ears of Thrax’s red cape seem to subtly move to match the contortions of his face. The right ear of the scarlet cloak seemed to mimic Thrax’s eyebrow.

You haven’t thought through the possibility, have you?

You’ve been so wrapped up in your own mortal delusions that you never sought to glance at the shadows of your actions. You were too busy writing your legacy to notice the writing on the wall.

I know I was.

Thrax rotated the skull in his hand, tilting his head to the left as he gave a closer consideration to the ancient artifact.

We think we love our families, our wives, our children.

But what if our love tortures them? What if our kisses land like punches against their soft cheeks? What if our sweet whispers rip through their hearts like barbed wire?

You shudder to even consider the proposal: but it’s an honest one.

You’re on the road constantly, battling for glory and entertaining the plebians. It’s how you bring the money in, it’s how you feed and clothe your disgusting offspring. Your earnings pay for your lavish lifestyle, your personal McMansion, your fast cars and your party favors.

But what are our families doing every night while we’re away? Our lovers, our children? How do they fill the void of our absence when we’re chasing for glory and leaping for faith?

If we’re lucky they’re huddled close around the television screen watching us torment our rivals.

But what if we’re unlucky? What are our families doing on those nights when Lady Fortune casts the dice of destiny against us?

Thrax stares into the empty eye sockets of the skull in his hand.

You couldn’t bear the truth, so I’ll spare you the gushy details. Your stomach would churn, if you still had one.

Thrax held the skull up into a sparse ray of light. Thrax squinted his eyes as the ears of his cape narrowed.

We think we love our fans. Their cheers reinvigorate us inside the ring. Their idolatry fuels our ever expanding egos. Their praise and adoration is as sweet a nectar as their fear and admonishment. There is no greater sensation than the feeling of a million eyes on your skin, anxiously watching your every move.

But what are they cheering for? What are they calling us to do inside that ring?

They only want blood and death! They call for us to kill, maim, and torture whoever is across from us!

And we do it with no remorse. We do it with reckless disregard.

We’ll kill our rivals, our friends, and even ourselves inside that ring all because we love the roar of the crowd!

Thrax cocked his head to the right as the ears of his crimson cloak popped up. Thrax looked at the skull as if he were absorbing new sensory information.

You don’t think you do it for the fans? You don’t care at all about the shrieking children and the heckling drunks?

Thrax brought the skull close to his face as his tongue clacked away inside of his mouth. As the skull moved closer to Thrax the top of his cloak encircled the sides of the skull, as if the skull were somehow a flight risk.

You are more foolish than I once believed.

A performer is nothing without an audience!

What good is glory if there is no one to acknowledge it? What is the point of wearing a golden belt if no one will ever see it? You may as well just play dress up and make believe in your mirror!

Thrax scowled at the skull as the tips of his cloak rose into the air before arching their….backs?...as if they were a pair of hissing cats? Thrax’s grip on the skull grew visibly tighter as a hairline fracture erupted on the side of the skull. A few specks of bone fell to the ground as Thrax stared intently at his ever-dramatic prop of choice.

Everyone is the hero of their own story, mirror or no mirror. But you and I are in the same boat here, aren’t we? We’re both the villains in the stories of so many. Perhaps the stories of your wickedness are fresher and more vibrantly remembered. Perhaps the tales of my dominance have all but faded from popular consciousness….

But still, we have both left trails of bloodshed and devastation in our wakes. The names and careers of our victims may fade to nothing as they fall before us, but the pain and suffering we inflicted felt timeless.

Thrax looks at the skull again, slowly rotating it in the palm of his hand as he spoke in it’s direction.

I can’t say we don’t deserve their hatred. Between the two of us we have laid waste to nearly every soul on the XWF roster. We have humiliated, berated, tortured, and decimated so many we thought to be below us.

We didn’t think we were doing anything wrong.

This is what they signed up for, isn’t it?

To have their hopes and dreams crushed beneath the heel of a superior being? Didn’t these sorry sobs sign up to have their wigs split open and their championship belts torn from their waists by a hungrier beast?

I slept comfortably at night with their blood still fresh on my knuckles. It didn’t bother me at all. All the pain I was causing, all the suffering I was inflicting, as long as it stayed in the ring I thought I could still be a holy man. A virtuous father. A worthy lover.

But our destructive tendencies could never stay confined to the ring. You and I were fools for thinking they ever could. How could we be so naive? Our fists are warhammers, our words are toxic vile. When you’ve been in this industry as long as we have, you don’t have to put on a show at the stadium. You have to put on a show at home.

Eventually, the mask cracks, and the real you slips out.

The REAL you! The real Corey Smith, Jim Caedus, R.L. Edgar, or whatever else you’re calling yourself these days!

Thrax squeezes the skull so tightly it shatters! Fragments of bone and dust float through the air and fall to the ground as Thrax turns to the right, burying his head into the crevice of his elbow.

The narcissistic cutthroat willing to say, do, and engineer anything to hurt anyone as long as it helps you get ahead. The heralded bastard willing to step on any sorry sob just to climb another rung up the ladder.

We’ve both been there, we’ve both done that.

But only I know where that road ends!

The highway to hell doesn’t go on forever. No matter how nice of a ride your engineer rigs up for you, that pavement beneath your tires will one day turn into the waters of the river styxx. Those handlebars you hang onto so tightly will grab ahold of YOU when the fiery gates of hell open up as a highway exit just for you.

Thrax leans back in his chair while resting his fingers on his chin. He looks down at the scattered skull fragments.

The reaper comes calling for all of us: but he especially loves to collect the souls of men like you and I. Men who have had it all, done it all, men who have thought themselves untouchable. Icons of the industry, titans of the trade, bearers of legacy. Men who made their cushy thrones from the broken bones of the fallen.

The reaper sheds a joyful tear every time a man like us fades from the world. It isn’t every day that death gets to send souls like ours down the river styxx.

For all those years, I thought I knew the difference between good and evil. For all those years, I thought I was doing the right thing.

I didn’t know how wrong I was until I felt the flames tickling my flesh.

END SCENE

I opened my eyes and saw nothing but red. Waves of heat ran across my skin as I flopped around from side to side. I gasped for breath but water came gushing into my mouth. I closed my mouth but it was too late, the water began to flood my lungs. I could feel the steamy water moving through my body, burning my innards. I could feel myself sinking...no, something was pulling me in deeper. I felt a sudden squeeze around my midsection before the steaming water was expelled out of my chest. Whispers flooded my ears as if they too were carried along by the waves.

“You just haven’t been yourself lately. I know work has been tough lately, but I just want you to know that I am always here for you. The girls are coming over to watch your big match tonight. We're all cheering for you!”

The red waters engulfing me became darker and darker as I felt myself being pulled down by an unseen monstrosity. Red turned to black as I reached out for the surface. The steam turned to a boil as I cried out for help. The scalding water flooded in through my mouth before quickly escaping through my chest. I flopped around from side to side as I felt the monstrosity’s grip tightening.

“What the hell is that maniac doing to that poor boy!?”

I tried to kick my feet out to my side only to find that they had been bound together. I tried to wiggle my arms out from under the grasp of the unseen beast but the monster’s grip grew firmer with every movement of resistance. My persistence was unperturbed. I struggled relentlessly, twisting and contorting my body in every manner that I could.

“We don't have to watch this...we shouldn't watch this.”

Nothing worked. The monstrosity clenched it’s fist around my midsection with maximal force. I could feel my guts being dislodged and contorted. My eyes bulged out of my head as blood and air was forced to occupy every space in my body except my core. I lost consciousness when the beast began to thrash my body from side to side across the rock solid ocean floor….

The searing heat didn’t allow me a long rest. The whispers stopped, but the pain never subsided for a moment. Harsh currents brought boiling water rushing across my body every few seconds. No matter how hard I tried to resist the urge, I would scream every time. With every scream came more burning water down my throat. The grip of the unseen beast held firm, never wavering in the slightest despite the voracious speed of the underwater currents.

Every second felt like an hour. Every hour felt like a year. The pain was never ending, the beast’s grip was unrelenting. I could swear that time was standing still for the sole purpose of tormenting me endlessly.

Then the beast released it’s grip. The boiling water continued to lacerate my flesh as I began to ascend from the searing depths. I could feel my rubbery body floating to the surface...no, something was pulling me up. Darkness turned to crimson as steaming pockets of air replaced the bursting bubbles of the boil.

I was lifted out of the searing waters and raised to the surface. I gulped desperately for air as I emerged from the ocean, but the air burned my throat as I inhaled it. My throat constricted as I began to choke. A firm hand tossed me through the air before I smacked against a wooden bench. I flopped around for a few seconds as droplets of water rolled down my skin. I could feel myself suffocating with every desperate gasp for dry air.

“Your time in purgatory is over. Your eternal fate has been decided.”

I felt a small pressure build up within my midsection when my would-be savior touched me again. I screamed once more as every muscle in my body began to expand. My scales peeled off my body as a new layer of flesh grew in its place. My bones began to snap and crack as they twisted and morphed themselves into a new form. My legs broke free from each other as feet grew in the place of a fin. I arched my back as a newfound spine began to grow along my back.

“AAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGHHHHHHHH!”

I rolled my head around atop my neck as I moved my shoulders in small circles one at a time. I pushed my hands out in front of my chest before interlocking my fingers and cracking my knuckles.

“What the….was I just a damn fish?!”

I looked down at the small canoe I found myself seated at the back of. The wooden bench was wet beneath my fully clothed posterior, but that was the least of my problems. I looked up at the man in the black cloak rowing me to the shore. I looked over the shoulder of my savior to see where we were headed. My jaw dropped as I laid eyes upon the all too familiar skyline.



“Brooklyn…”

The skyline was impossible for me to mistake. I made far too many memories here, good and bad alike, to ever forget Brooklyn….but what were they? I squinted my eyes as I cocked my head to the left. Why did this all feel so familiar to me? Like I had been here a million times before?

My trance was broken as a geyser of steaming water burst directly next to the boat. I recoiled reflexively as I avoided most of the water. The crimson droplets that landed inside the boat singed the wood before dissipating to steam. I looked back at the man rowing the small boat before tapping on the cloaked figure’s shoulder.

“I have to thank you for saving me back there….that, that was crazy. I...I don’t know what’s happening...”

The cloaked figure stopped rowing for a moment as it turned around to face me. The baggy black cloak was wrapped around the figure’s entire body. Underneath the hood I saw nothing but darkness. I extended my hand forward as I went to introduce myself to the mysterious helmsman.

“My name is….it’s….”

I trailed off as I tried to recall my signifier. The cloaked figure looked down at my open hand before slowly turning back around and dipping the oar back into the steaming scarlet sea. My hand slowly dropped as I stared off into Brooklyn’s bloodied skyline.

My increasingly absentminded gaze remained fixated on the unnatural hue of the skyline until the canoe slammed against the sands of a beach. The force of the collins flung me forward and caused me to collide into the back of the cloaked figure. Their body gave way as I the full force of my being crashed into them. I felt the helmsman's incredibly slender fingers reach around my waist before gripping me with familiar force. I barely had time to react before the cloaked figure tossed me onto the wet sand below!

“Hehehehe oh you look so cute in this makeup, Tickles! Hehehehehehe. Orphan blood really does bring out my natural brightness! Hehehehehehehe.”

I pushed myself up to my hands and the knees before coughing out a mouthful of dirt.

“Hehehehehehe ohhhhh, you finally brought im’, eh tough guy?”

I looked up and saw an oddly dressed man staring at me with a mirror in his hand.



“Who dressed you this morning, Pennywise or some shit?”

I spat the words out along with a mouthful of sand.

“Oh we have a smart guy, ehhh? Real clever, real clever!”

The oddly dressed man brought the mirror down to his side as he approached the cloaked figure lurking inside of the small boat. He stepped directly in front of my face, his colorful boots crossing right through my field of vision as he approached the helmsman. The man in the makeup reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of jingling coins.

“Have your damn toll, troll!”

The clown threw the coins at the beast inside the boat. The gold coins slammed into the cloaked body of the figure before clangling loudly onto the floorboards of the rowboat.

“Hehehehe.”

The clown turned around and began to walk back towards me. The cloaked figure reached out for the clown. A boney finger reached out from beneath the cloak. The finger stretched and stretched until it tapped softly on the clown’s shoulder.

*GULP*

The clown turned around and immediately reached back into his pocket as a nervous laughter flowed through his apology.

“You need more for a soul of this caliber? Haha, oh sure, pal! I just didn’t know, that’s all!”

The clown pulled a few more coins out of his pocket and extended them towards the cloaked figure. The mysterious entity snatched the coins out of the clown’s grasp nearly as soon as they were offered.

“And hey pal, about earlier- Tickles didn’t mean anything by it! You know? Haha...yeah...you know...right?”

The helmsman slowly turned away from the clown before it forcefully shoved the oar into the sand. The cloaked being pushed off of the oar to force the boat back into the shallow waters near the beach. The cloaked figure brought the oar up before pushing it down into the steaming waters, beginning the long row back out to sea. The clown wiped a few beads of sweat off its forehead before turning back around to face me. I rose to my feet and brushed the sand off of my jeans before meeting the clown’s gaze.

“Sorry about that, bud! Styx has been getting a bit pissy as of late!”

“Styx?”

“Yeah, he’s been pulling double duty ever since we loaned our Atlantic Abyssal to Mabolgia, but don’t even worry about it pal- you’re not going to be up here for very long hehehehe.”

“What do you mean?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, what is it with you newly burnt sons of bitches? I’m not your god damned tutor, all right? I just need to get you from point A to point B so I can get you off my hands and out of my hair. Now let’s get a move on, kid. Malinda’s hosting a fetish party at her place tonight and I’m not trying to miss it! I don’t get these kinds of invites often, all right pal?”

I blinked my eyes furiously as I take a few reflexive steps back.

“Wait- what hell are you talking about?”

“Hell, bud. I’m talking about Hell! Hehehehehe. You finally made it, pal! You’re in the big house now! Is it everything you thought it’d be? Hehehehehehe.”

I looked down at the familiar sands along the shore before shifting my gaze over the scarlet water shooting steam into the air. My gaze drifted up to the crimson hued sky before slowly falling back upon the man in the clown makeup.

“No...no...this is Brooklyn! You’re just….you’re just another bum that lives on the beach! You’re delusional!”

“Heh, the fucking gall, am I right? You were just one of Styx’s little floppy fishes and now you’re talking to a clown under a blood red moon! Except there’s no moon, bright guy! You’re talking to a botis of Hell, show some damn respect, eh?”

“No this….this is Brooklyn!”

“Brooklyn? Fucking Brooklyn? That’s what you’re seeing here?!”

I shouted in defiance at the clown before me. He wasn’t real. He couldn’t be real. None of this could be real. I must have drank too much last night. I’m having a bad dream. I’m hallucinating. Something else, anything else must be the truth.

“That’s pretty fucking lame ya know, pal. Everyone sees Hell differently. It’s a special place meant to torment each and every one of you sad sacks of shit in your own little unique and fucked up ways! The last guy I guided thought he was in Nam’! Now that was fun! I just made gun noises with my mouth and the guy freaked out! Hehehehehehehe. But fucking Brooklyn? What, am I supposed to tell ya the Nets playoff odds? Now that’s a horror story! Hehehehehehe.”

I shook my head from side to side as I brought my hands up to caress my face. My skin felt like….it wasn’t there. I pulled my hands off of my face and held them out in front of me. My jaw dropped to the floor when I saw the exposed muscles beneath my epidermis.

“WHERE IS MY SKIN?!”

“Oh here bud- take a look!”

The clown held the mirror up directly in front of my face. The face I saw in the mirror was nothing at all like I remembered!

“You look like Freddy Krueger’s fucked up cousin, pal! Hehehehehe.”

“What...no….”

I took a few steps back as I turned away from the mirror. I looked down at the ground as I keeled over, an overwhelming sense of nausea washing over me. Bloody bile shot out of my mouth and coated the sand near my leather boots.

“I’m gonna be sick…”

“Jesus fucking Christ! I’m not your damned nurse, there’s no fucking nurses in Hell!”

“Where, where….WHERE AM I?!”

“Hell! Hehehehehe.”

I buried my heels into the sand before turning around to face my tormentor.

“WHO ARE YOU?!”

“They like to call me Tickles! Hehehe. I’m your guide for the first layer of Hell, dog!”

The clown giggled to himself as he rubbed his belly with his oily mitts. My gaze drifted back down to the sands as I let the clown’s words echo through my mind. The clown let the silence linger for a few moments before chiming in once more.

“So now that I’ve entertained your little outburst, are you going to get with the fucking program or what?”

“I...I...I…”

“You don’t have a fucking choice!”

The clown reached his arm back before propelling it forward, as if he were going to throw the mirror at me, but as he extend his arm forward the mirror shifted into a rope! The long end of the rope wrapped itself around my neck as it shot towards me. The rope turned bright red for a brief moment before searing the side of my neck.

“ARRRRGGGHHHHH!”

I cried out helplessly before the the rope returned to it’s normal color. Tickles immediately yanked me down to the ground with a forceful tug of my new leash. I fell back onto my hands and knees as more layers of rope began to wrap around my throat.

“You better learn to fucking behave if you’re going to make it down to the sixth layer in one piece! Kaftan and Liquorah aren’t going to be as sweet to you as I am, buster! Those bitches on the third layer are really going to tear your asshole in two if you act like this!”

The rope grew tighter as the clown giggled from beside me.

“Hehehehe. You don’t have the power here, dog! You can bark and yelp all you want, but we hold all the cards in the deck!”

Tickles placed his boot onto my lower back before slowly pushing me to my stomach.

“Are we crystal -fucking- clear, bub?”

The clown rubbed his boot into my back as I flew into a choking fit.

“Thought so. Hehehehe.”

The clown removed his boot from my back just as the rope around my neck loosened.

“Now get your ass up! We got places to go, sights to see!”

Tickles started walking off ahead of me as I slowly pushed myself up to my feet. I coughed a few times into my charred hands before recoiling in disgust. The clown looked back at me with a shiteating grin.

“It smells worse than it tastes, if that’s what you’re thinking! Hehehehehe.”

I glared at my apparent guide before begrudgingly walking in his direction. The grin never left his face as he watched my every move. As I approached him I could hear his stomach rumble inside of his clown suit. Tickles belched loudly in my face before giggling senselessly.

“Hehehehehehehehe does it smell even better coming up? Hehehehe. Now come on, pal! I’ve got a lot to show you. Enjoy your tour, and be sure to tip! Hehehe.”

The clown turned away from me as he led me off of the sandy beach and into the concrete jungle. As soon as my boot stepped onto the concrete it began to sizzle.

“What the…”

I looked down at my boot as a small strand of black smoke floated off of them.

“The second layer is hot as FUCK! Hehehehehehe. You’ll feel it in its entirety when you get down there, don’t worry! HEHEHEEEHE!”

The clown threw back his head mid-stride as he cackled maniacally. I sighed as I stepped onto the burning blacktop.

“You know it’s not everyday a former XWF champion washes up on my shores! Usually it’s just junkies, thugs, and old timers! But hey- you’re a little bit of all three, aren’t ya?!”

I glanced up at the clown, saying nothing, as I followed closely behind him. Tickles strolled casually down the seemingly abandoned streets of Brooklyn, turning back around every so often to make sure I was still right behind him.

“I read through your whoooole file while you were pissing and moaning back on the beach. You’ve got a crazy long rap sheet! You’re a sick cunt, pal! Hehehehe. From what I read I thought you would have liked all that foreplay we had, but then again, you always liked to do the choking, didn’t cha?! Hehehe. Ohhhh yeah buddy I know all your kinks, sins, and dirty little secrets. You like choking bitches! And who doesn’t?!?! Ohhhhh but you took it too far, bud! That’s the kind of gang shit that’s sending your ass down to max! Hehehehehe.”

I stared at the ground as I trudged along behind the clown. Was that why I was here? Could I have done something like that? I try to remember….

“Hey, sicko! I’m talking to ya!”

The clown does a full 180 to stare me down face to face. The heavyset clown blocks my path down the sidewalk as he casts a curious glance my way.

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue? Hehehe.”

I slowly raised my head until I was making eye contact with my tormentor. We exchanged glances for a brief second before I turned my head away from the clown. I wasn’t going to play his games. I had no intent of humoring my captor. His jolly good times will have to come from the suffering of another. Tickles snapped his fingers in my face to regain my focus.

“Hey shitcan! You better fucking look at me when I’m talking!”

I raised my head and looked into the sky defiantly as Tickles called for my attention. A scowl spread over the clown’s face as I stared into the bloody skies overhead.

“Don’t piss me off! I don’t want to be pissed off! It’s not fun for anyone! Cooome oooon, pal! The strong and silent archetype is pretty played out by now, doncha think? Coooome ooon, I know you got more energy than that in that burned little carcass of yours! You used to be a pretty big fucking deal, guy! I mean, until you got injured and fell off the wagon….but before that you were Mr. Motherfucking Dominance! Doncha remember the good old days? Hehehe. Better relive them now, bucko. After you leave the first layer of Hell you’re not going to get a single moment of respite! Hehehehehe.”

The clown grinned as I refused to meet his gaze.

“Ohhhh come on now, you don’t gotta get so down on yourself! Are you sad because no one remembers your name while you’re down here burning in Hell? Does it tear you up inside knowing lesser guys are getting shots in the business that you never got? That you never lived long enough to see? You feel like you had so much more to accomplish, so many more belts to win? Hehehehehe. Tough luck! You’re fucked now! Hehehehehe.”

The clown turned back around and started walking down the lonely streets of Brooklyne once more. While my defiant spirit runs deep, I have never been a stupid man. I tucked my head as I slowly trudged along behind my devilish captor.

“You know this is just the first layer of Hell, right, pal? I think I’ve told ya enough, I thought by now you’d take the bait. Most do. Most people want to know everything about Hell when they get here! Even you were a chatty Kathy back on the beach! Huh. Wonder what’s changed. Hehehehe.”

The clown giggled down the road as I surveyed our surroundings. Brooklyn was just like I remembered it: the bodegas on the corner, the food trucks parked on the curb, skyrise buildings as far as the eye could see….but it all felt off. As I looked closer I saw that all the street signs were blank. The streetlights were all flashing red. Brooklyn’s eerie silence was only broken by the sounds of our boots slapping against the concrete sidewalks. Then, the silence was broken once more by the jester’s taunts.

“It gets much, much worse! You better prepare yourself. Anything you want to get off your chest, now’s the time to do it! If you don’t do it now, the harpies are certainly going to do it for you on the fourth layer! Hehehehehe- oh shit, we’re here buddy!”

The jester looked up at the dimly lit building across the street. ‘FCW’ was spelled out in illuminated yellow lettering along the side of the black brick building. Tickles turned his gaze upon the two men loitering underneath the canopy hanging off the side of the building. He started walking towards them. I instinctively followed. As we approached the staircase to the entrance the clown turned back to me.

“Alright now look here, fucker- you don’t want to play games with Tickles? Fine. But before we go in here that’s something *really* important that I gotta tell ya!”

I glanced up at the two men posting up at the top of the staircase. They looked like normal people. I envied their pale flesh. I sighed softly before looking back at Tickles the clown.

“So the short and skinny of it is this:....”

END SCENE

The camera cuts back to a shot of Thrax sitting atop his pile of bones in the center of the frame. Thrax seems to be relaxed. He is leaning slightly on his right elbow as he looks at the empty palm of his hand.

I was brought back to the mortal realm for one reason and one reason alone...but I’ve never been one to accept a handout. Call me deceitful, call me an oath breaker, call me a dissentient, call me whatever you wish…..none of your words can confine the scope of my actions or the reach of my influence.

I won’t keep my promises. I won’t tell you the truth. I will cast a web of deception so deep that none of you will be able to find your way out in time. You will know me only once I have reached out from the shadows to manifest my own destiny. I will cast the wool over your eyes as I bring my whip down upon your back!

But you should know that about me by now.

Kind men don’t find themselves in my shoes. Honest men don’t find themselves staring down the gates of hell. But honest men don’t successfully cash in 24/7 briefcases, either. Need we repeat Ned Kaye’s mistakes? A 24/7 briefcase is no use in honest hands. Honesty means nothing in the face of pedigree.

I am honest with the only one who matters: myself. I have always been the prideful type. Wrathful, too. I see what I am entitled to and I take it by any means necessary! I will never be a puppet on Gappeto’s string. I will never let another man control my fate or determine my destiny.

I will never sit around waiting for a bookey to write me into the scene. If I want something I will TAKE it on my terms! What are contracts, rules, and bodies if not playthings meant to be broken?

This 24/7 briefcase belongs in my charred hands. I am the only one fit to carry it. The rest of you fools and charlatans are trapped in your own little worlds, bound by the dictates of ethics and morals. None of you have been able to transcend your own mortal delusions. None of you are prepared for the entity you are encountering on the surface of the moon. You are all trapped in your own echo chambers, in your own idealistic villas where there are no monsters in the darkness, where there is nothing in the shadows waiting to rip you apart. You are all far too comfortable.

But what comfort could I know? What comfort is there in the depths of HELL?! I can’t go back. I will NEVER GO BACK! I will bite, scratch, and claw you all into smithereens before I let myself be pulled back down into the flames! Before I become nothing again!

I WILL NOT DIE BEFORE MY NAME IS LEGEND.

Not again….

Not while the unwritten chapters of my legacy wait for me on the moon.

Thrax looks up at the white light shining down through the cracks in the ceiling as the screen cuts to black.