How did he intervene?

Micheal Graves was gone. For all intents and purposes, dead. I had buried him deep in the subconscious, a prison that I had dwelled in for a very long time. He should not have had the ability to work against my actions, but he did. How? Is his will truly so strong? The fact that I threatened his wife, the love of his life, did that somehow empower him? Is it not bad enough that I now share this overwhelming desire to raise through the ranks of a pointless sport, but now I have to worry about him snatching control away at any moment, locking me back in that cage that I despise so much?

It's late night, February 11th, and I'm sitting in a jail cell in El Paso Texas. When the police showed up, I had no real options. I had to allow myself to be arrested. What was the alternative, kill the arresting officers and go on the run? It's not like they wouldn't have known where to find me come Wednesday, and then what? Being a member of the XWF, we admittedly get away with a lot of fucked up shit, but we aren't above the law, just ask Dolly Waters.

I assaulted 3 people at random. There was no real reason to do it, I've just grown bored. It's not like Nate Higgers and his mystery partner are giving me anything else to occupy my time. They pose no threat what so ever of me making it to the next round, even if Doctor D’Ville wasn't my partner. Higgers only claim to fame in the XWF is being a former Federweight Champ. It's actually unlike him to opt in for real matches. He probably doesn't due to the fact that his bullshit sucker attacks don't work so well in the ring. Higgers usually makes his mark by talking trash, and catching his opponents off guard. I think that he realizes that neither myself, or the good Doctor, are susceptible to his mind games. That's probably why he spent the majority of his only promo praying to a dead race car driver. Because he knew that he he were to open his mouth, and piss us off, he'd be joining his idol soon enough.

His partner on the other hand, as I have said before, he is nothing more than a coward. He will of course play it off as he was trying to catch us off guard with the element of surprise, but realistically, if he had any confidence in his ability, he wouldn't try to rely on such trickery. I've heard backstage ramblings about who might be our mystery opponent. Names such as Blizzard, Frodo, Centurion, and even my dear twin brother Sean Graves. Chances are, none of those names are actually this mystery man. I'd like to think that any of those returning legends would have the balls to stand up, and say “look at me, I'm coming to kick your ass!”.

The fact still remains, that none of this matters. At the end of the day, they will fall, and Doc and I will move on. Speaking of Doc, I love how sure of himself he is. So much so, that while he rest on his laurels, and I put in all of the work to promote this match, he still has the audacity to claim that I'm the one who will be canceled out by his, what, greatness? Don't get me wrong, Doc's a heavy hitter. I'm finally beginning to understand what Thadeus Duke meant when he said that his loss to Doc didn't matter, but the fight that he put up did. Doc has earned his place, his ego. At the same time, I would advise my partner to not underestimate what I bring to this team, because next round, we may end up on opposite sides of the ring.

An officer approaches the cell door and turns a key to unlock it. A loud clanking sound echoes through the room.

Graves, your bail has been paid

That's odd, who would pay to get me released, Stephanie? No, I wouldn't think so. We're not in the best of terms right now. I'm pretty sure that she would rather see me rot in here.

Graves stands up and walks over to the cell door, where the officer takes him by the arm and leads him out to the front lobby. Micheal is expecting to see whomever it was that paid his bail, but there's nobody.

Excuse me, who paid for my release?

The officer barely even acknowledges Micheals existence with his reply.

I don't know, some guy brought in the payment and left.

You don't keep records of that sort of thing?

Lying, the officer just shakes his head no. He can't be bothered to look up the name I suppose. Micheal collects his personal belongings and walks out the door. There is a black sedan parked in front of the station. As Micheal walks on to the sidewalk, the driver of that sedan honks his horn. Curious if this may be his mysterious savior, Micheal walks over to the passenger window. It rolls down, and inside of the car is none other that Jesus Christ.

Sup bro?